Gay Erotic Stories

"Do you like me, Z?" Paul asked.

"You're a bit loud," I said, not liking the question and shifting the phone to my other ear.

"Was I loud at Quik Stop?"

"No."

"That's my street face. It makes guys think I'm tough. It might not do any good but it makes me feel stronger."

"What's wrong with your hair?" I asked, nitpicking my way into his heart.

"My hair? What's that about?"

"Did you ever think of combing it?" I asked.

"You'll like me if I comb my hair?" He asked, sounding like he wasn't sure I was for real.

"No, I like you. It just seems like you go out of your way to look unattractive," I said.

"So, if I don't comb my hair and someone decides they like me anyway, that must mean they like me and not what I look like... or what I sound like, huh? I mean if hair is all you're interested in, I've got some hair I keep very neat."

"Very funny. You should comb your hair is all I'm saying," I said.

"Yeah, well, maybe I will one day. You want to go skating tomorrow if you don't have anything with Dart?"

"No, nothing with Dart. He doesn't want anything regular," I said.

"You do?"

"I do what?" I asked.

"Want something regular?" He asked.

"No, I don't know what I want. I sucked a guy's dick a couple of times. I'm just figuring it all out. I don't know that much," I said. "I don't know what regular means. I suppose it means more often than irregular."

"You should know enough to be careful around those guys. They find out what you like and they'll make it hard on you," he said.

"Like you staring at Dart's dick?" I said, not thinking too much about it before I said it.

"It wasn't like that," Paul said. "I wasn't staring at it."

"Bet me. I was there. He told me you wanted his dick," I said. "I don't think you're fooling him."

"He told you that?"

"Yeah, he told me that," I said.

"When?"

"Right after you stood and stared at it for five minutes and then started jacking off," I said.

"So I should be careful because he saw me looking at it. What about what you're doing with it? Don't you think he might start suspecting something?"

"What about me? I'm not trying to fool anybody. I like him. If I'm going to do something I want to do it with someone I like," I said.

"You said you liked me. You going to do it to everyone you like? You better get kneepads. Wait until you go to school. God, the guys are gorgeous."

"Maybe I’ll get some," I said, not knowing how to respond to him. "I'm going to do it with the ones I like that I want to do it to."

"Don't you think you should be careful?"

"I am. Dart's cool. He said he wouldn't tell anyone. Where do you want to meet?"

"Those guys will say anything to get guys to do what they want them to do. It's a game with them. They divide up into two groups. Those that get it done to them and those that do the doing."

"But they want guys doing it to them. Don't you see that the guys doing the doing are no different than the ones getting it done?"

"I know how they treat the guys doing it."

"So, I wanted to do it and I did. If he talks about it he talks about it. I'm not there. I'll deal with it when I'm there. Okay?"

"I live near the theaters between Main and Broadway just to the East of the mall in El Cajon."

"In front of the theaters?" I asked.

"That's cool," he said. "Do I have to comb my hair for us to go out?"

"Would you if I asked you to?" I asked.

"No."

I knew I didn't know Paul all that well but for the first time since I met Dart I was thinking about someone else that night. I'd enjoyed myself and I liked being with Paul. I looked forward to the next day when I'd get to see him again. Life is weird some times.

I met him the next morning. We skated on Broadway and he took me into a few shops where he bought stuff. He took me past his house so I knew where he lived. I told him where I lived. We spent almost the entire day together. We ended up in a park near the high school where we'd both be going. It was about an equal distance between his house on one side of the school and mine on the other. I really hadn’t thought about a routine or giving up my freedom but seeing the school brought me back to earth. It was a hot day but the trees furnished a lot of shade and it was pretty nice with a gentle breeze blowing. We chased each other around the sidewalks after we'd gotten over lying in the shade.

Paul was cool. He was a lot smarter than I thought. He played soccer, wrestled, and he threw the shot on the track team. He had been held back one year and was fourteen months older than I was. He liked talking and wasn't loud at all. It was a nice day and he was a nice guy. I found myself looking at him when he didn't notice. That discomfort I had felt around him previously had disappeared.

The next day we met at the park. We started off by chasing each other around on our boards, and we worked out on some of the equipment before the heat set in. We went over to the mall and just hung out near the small food court. We got lunch before we headed back to the park. When we lay up under the trees to get out of the sun, he put his head in my lap. He didn't ask and I didn't object. I figured he probably knew about my condition but you couldn't miss his with him lying down. We never discussed it but it started to be on my mind more than our conversation. I hadn’t seen that many and I still wanted to know more about them. I wanted to know more about Paul’s.

He wanted to talk but it was different the second day. Gone were the big questions about life, danger, and the ways of the world. He was more interested in who I was by this time. What do you like? What do you want? What’s your favorite color?

"You're neat," he said after he yawned and stretched, flexing for me.

"So are you," I said, thinking it wasn't the word I wanted to use.

"I'm afraid to ask you to meet me tomorrow," he said while fiddling with his board on his chest. "I bent my strut. I got one at the house I can use."

"Why's that?" I asked.

"You'll think I have a thing for you," he said in a sigh.

"You do," I said, hoping I was at least half right and not knowing why.

"How can you be so sure?" He asked. "I haven't done anything and I know you do stuff."

"The evidence is showing," I said.

"Does that mean you like me?"

"You're the one with the tent pole in his pants."

"Yeah, but you’re the one looking at it."

"Impossible to miss. You could run a flag up on it."

"Like I'm the only dude in this park that has a pair of shorts full of hard cock," he said with the back of his head on my erection.

"You've been looking," I said.

"No, but I could turn over and do you a lot more good than just looking," he said.

"I guess you could say that I like you if you wanted," I said, resting one hand across his tight hard chest once he tossed down his board. He wove his fingers into mine and his fingers did a little dance on the back of my hand while he checked the fit. They were thick fingers and they felt nice to touch. My fingers were longer and tapered thin but in the end they were the same length as his short thick fingers. My dick twitched and he put his other hand up on my thigh, not too high but high enough.

"You do know you're too young for me," he said, squeezing my hand as he held it tight against his muscles. "I knew when you started showing up you were trouble."

"What's a year?" I said. "Age is relative anyway. We're in the same grade so we're probably similarly endowed intellectually. That's more important indicator than chronology."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"I'm about as smart as you," I said.

"Nobody’s smart as me. They better hope they aren't. I told you I failed. Nobody fails."

"I been with you long enough to know you aren't stupid."

"Yeah, I am. Look at my report cards. Do the math. I’m dumb as a post."

"Whatever," I said, wanting him to squeeze harder. "Can you take off your shirt."

"What," he said, laughing and looking up over his shoulder at me. His eyes were twinkling and I could see most of his teeth.

"I want to feel your chest, okay," I said.

He rolled over on his hands and knees like a dog. He stood up on his knees and peeled his shirt up over his head. His nipples were pale and almost the size of quarters and they were set on two distinct patches of gristle. Under the gristle were creases like I'd never seen on another kid. His shoulders seemed huge compared to my frail frame and his waist was smaller than mine with a half dozen tiny golden hairs just below his belly button. He was a tight inny.

"Wow," I said.

He pushed down on the front of his shorts.

"Sorry, can't help it. Something in the air today. I might need to do something about it before long."

"No, wow, your chest. How'd you get one so solid? You’re a fucking stud. Why do wear all that baggy shit to comer yourself up."

“Well, you see the main reason. I seem to be stiff more than I’m soft these days. It’s really been bad. I have no control over it any more.”

“I’ve been having my own problem in that department. You must pump iron, huh?”

"Well, we lift for wrestling starting October and we lift for track starting before wrestling season ends. I was lifting up to late May so I'm about as big as I get. I stay below one eighty so I don't lose my spot," he said, rolling onto his back and taking my hand like he did before. He pulled my fingers down against his hot skin.

"How do you do sports if you failed," I said, after he slipped his fingers between mine again, I rubbed the back of my hand on his smooth skin.

"I failed eighth grade. I wasn't doing sports when my grades were down. I missed wresting and track even though there was no track then. Up here they put me in classes I can’t fail."

"You're funny," I said.

"I'm funny queer, not funny ha, ha. You're too young for me anyway. I gave up younger guys this year. They're a bit much after awhile," he said.

"How so. I thought I was pretty nice. Chronology doesn’t mean a thing. It’s all about maturity and emotional age and I think we might be okay there."

"Never mind. My brother's friends are a pain in the ass. You're fine. You seem old as me. You sure you aren’t my age?"

"Is that a literal pain or a figurative pain?" I asked, wanting to know more about his brother’s friends.

"Very funny. They're just always around. My house is the rec center. I had to entertain them while Craig was younger. All summer long I was stuck with those crumb snatchers. Craig's about your age and this summer he was allowed to have his friends over without me being around. Glory. So, I let him have the house and I get the great out of doors each day."

"Whatever do you do with all your free time?" I asked.

"Things," he said.

"What kind of things?" I asked.

"We don't need to reveal everything on our first date, do we?" he asked. Pushing my fingers flat onto his chest so I could feel it with my palm.

"Wow, you're hot," I said.

"It's the company," he said.

"No, you got a hot bod. Why do you say that stuff?"

"When do we have our first date, dude?"

"Well, I think you might have missed it. Why have another one if you don't remember this one," I said.

"I mean one when I know that's what it is. One when we say we’re going out together."

"Wasn't this a date?"

"If I'd asked you for a date a couple of days ago, you'd have laughed in my face. So, I found something out and now you're being nice to me to protect yourself. I ain’t stupid, Z. You know I like you. I want a date knowing you want it too, not one you feel obligated to have to cover your ass. I’m asking you out here."

"I'm not obligated to do anything I don't want to do. I don't do stuff I don't want to do. I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be here. God, what have I got to do hit you over the head? I like you Paul. You need to comb your hair though."

"Shut up," he said.

"I'm trying to figure it all out for myself. Let's see now, you don't hang at your house because of your brother and his little friends, and he's my age. So where do you hang?"

"I met some older guys from SDSU. I hung up at one of the Frat Houses until all the guys I knew went home for the summer. I liked them. They treated me good. That's when I started hanging at the tube once they went home. No point in going up there any more."

"How old were they?" I asked.

"Eighteen, nineteen. Actually Jason was seventeen, a couple weeks shy of his 18th birthday. He’s the first one of them I met. They could relate to high school sports and stuff like that. They were jocks and probably the only way I'll ever get a look inside of a college. It was cool though. I liked going up there and they liked me because they'd just left high school and I made them feel more connected. You know they feel lost up there the first year. Everyone is older and knows everything and these guys are left to figure it all out."

"You ran with college dudes? Weren’t you a little young for them."

"Yeah, but Jason played soccer and I met him at a pickup game. I was on a bus heading home from downtown. I saw them playing on a field near the bus stop. So I got off the bus and went to play. Jason kept body checking me until I slammed him on his ass. I was trying to play nice but he wouldn't have it. We were friends after that. I don’t think he wanted to piss me off any more. He thought I was his age. They thought I went to school up there.

One guy was a swimmer and we met him for Cokes after the game. That was Ben Nice bod, real thin. He was younger than Jason was. I’d just turned sixteen and Ben wasn’t a full year older than me as I recall. I met Jason a couple of times to play ball with guys from his house. They played other Frat houses and I was better than most of those guys. They kept asking me to come back for the next game. One day after a game Jason asked me back to the house. I thought he was straight up til then. They had a party that night and I found out he wasn't, Ben either."

"They weren't. What did they want with a kid?" I asked.

"I told you they were kids. Smart kids. Graduated early and were getting an extra years athletic eligibility out of it. Some how they play their sport but it doesn’t go against them. They never play varsity teams. They’re always up against guys just out of high school and not yet ready for the big time. There was about the same age difference between them as there is between me and you."

"Oh, they were just the right age then. I think for balance you got to go with guys a year younger as well as a year older. That way it all equals out," I said.

"There wasn't no difference that I could tell. They are just like guys on my teams at high school. Some of them do dumber stuff than guys in high school do. I told you they held me back in school and I lift weights and look pretty big. These guys didn't care about none of that as long as I could dribble a ball down the field. No one knew I was a tenth grader, once failed."

"You aren't stupid because you failed. They're stupid because you failed," I said.

"They said I was. Failed my butt because I failed English. I couldn't read the stuff they assigned. My mind was all over the place. It's like when I wash my hair. I have a frizzy brain. Can’t help it."

"You needed to concentrate," I said, being an expert on everything.

"Right! I couldn't concentrate. My mind went in three directions at the same time. I'd get to the end of a sentence and I'd need to read it again. I'd get to the end and still couldn't remember what I'd read, and I read it again, and again, and my time was up and I failed. I would read one multiple-choice question on the test and it took me five minutes to understand it if I ever understood it. They said not to spend too much time on any one question, but if you don’t understand the question, how can you answer it? They’re all screwed up with how you have to do stuff. I never finished a test and all we did was take tests on assigned reading. Not my specialty by any means. I could do it when a teacher talked about it first because I could remember what she said."

"That's bogus," I said. "Why couldn't you understand it if you read it?" I asked. "You're plenty smart enough. You must have been trying to fail."

"Brain farts," he said seriously. "My brain blows hot air while I'm trying to think. I end up thinking about the hot air. Vicious circle. Let's talk about something else, okay. It's another month before we go back to school."

"You're not stupid," I said, having made the only important decision on the subject. "You're not. I know you're not even if you don't know your not. You're not. Not!"

"Right! That's why all my report cards say--Paul doesn't apply himself. Paul could do better. Paul doesn't pay attention. Paul, Paul, Paul. Paul's retarded," he said, letting go of my hand and rolling away from me. "Paul doesn't want to think about this. Paul's got to go back to school in a few weeks. God I hate school. My old man knows a guy that has an auto body shop. He's going to get me on there if I'm flunking this year. I'll be able to quit school before they fail me again."

"Thanks a lot. I thought we might have some classes together," I said. "I was just thinking that would be cool."

"Oh, you're taking remedial basket weaving too, as in also, not one two?"

"Very funny."

"Truth hurts. I'm not hanging around to fail again."

"Then we won't be able to see each other in school. Don't drop."

"Why do you care. You want to be with Dart," he said, throwing it out like that's what we were talking about the entire time.

"Dart doesn't want to be with me. Besides, I like being with you," I said.

"You don't know what you want," Paul said.

"I never said I knew anything. I'm trying to learn. So what about these guys. What happened with them?"

"We matched up well. I told you I was horny all the time and guess what, so were they. It's practically all those guys ever talk about. At first I was hot all the time listening to them talk about all the girls they fucked and wanted to fuck and where they fucked them. College guys aren't bashful. They always have porn flicks on the television. Guys sitting around making rude comments about what they'd do talking about what they'd done. They're funny. I was already plenty horny when I got up there on Friday nights. I'd make myself go without from Wednesday on just so I'd be in the zone if something happened."

"You were having sex with old guys?"

"I told you they weren't no different than me. I was up there with the freshman. It was like being the only junior on an all-senior team. By the time you get to the end of the season no one remembers you're a grade back. You're one of ‘em."

"I'd remember I was if I was doing it with college guys. When you taking me up there with you? I want to meet them."

"You’re too young. School starts in a month. I don't know they'd let you in. You're young," he said. "I played soccer and stuff but you look young. They weren't looking to be with no kids. I was a bigger stud than most of them."

"I'm a year younger than you. If you're just like them why aren't I," I said. "I want to know stuff. Doesn't mean I'll do anything with any of them. I don’t want anything to do with adult guys that way."

"I told you they're just kids. Some guys look in their twenties and some guys look sixteen. That's why they didn't know I was in high school. I was like you. I wanted to find out things. I found out plenty. If you really want to go with me I don't care but they might. Maybe in the afternoon when only a few guys are around. We’ll play some hoops and you can see what they’re like. I don’t know if they’ll even be back but someone will be up there."

"What did you find out?" I asked.

“I found out it wasn’t weird thinking about sex all the time. I guess I could say you were my brother. If you were with me they'd think you were okay. Once guys get drunk they don't think about your age, dude. So, if you go up, you can't be doing no shit with no old dudes. You’ll get us all busted. My buds were all seventeen and they hung together so the house didn’t get into any trouble."

“Do you think you could be straight?” I asked, letting my mind work too hard as my free hand rubbed his stomach near his belt.

“Do I look like I’m straight,” he said, chuckling.

“I don’t know what it looks like,” I said.

"Well, I'll give you a clue, I'd be lying out here talking to some chick and not answering any questions about the guys I've been with, and that's what it's like when you look straight."

"Okay, you're not straight, but I'm out here talking to you and I'm not sure I'm gay," I said. "I'm sure I like Dart and what he likes me to do but I'm not sure I don't want to try it with a girl. I've never been in that kind of a situation. I might try it and like it."

"There's less pressure on you if you're straight. I think I'd rather be straight," he said. "I mean its cool. I have no complaints but I still worry people will find out. You hear stuff. Guys get beat and stuff. It’s not how I want to live."

"So choose that," I said.

"Can you choose not to do it with Dart?"

"Sure," I said. "I do it with Dart cause I like the way it makes me feel. I’d probably be better of not knowing how good it makes me feel but it’s too late for that."

"That's the wrong question. You can choose to do it with someone or not to do it with someone. You can't choose it when you like guys and not girls. You just do. I don't want to like guys. I don't want to like Dart's dick. I just do.”

“Been there done that,” I said.

"You're really bad, Z. Very funny. I can't help who I like. Dart’s okay even if he is a jerk."

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

“No power like the power of the pecker. I can live with it, I guess."

"What about the AIDS?" I asked.

"You use precaution. It's preventable. You get those little pamphlets out of the nurses office and you find out what to do and what not to do. It’s a no brainer."

"Yeah, and then she knows your fooling around with guys, right?" I said, not buying that one.

"You can get it from girls, Z."

"You can?" I asked. "All those people dying and its preventable? That don't make a lot of sense to me. Why don't they do something about it?"

"No one has to get sick or pregnant if they protect themselves. I protect myself and I read all the pamphlets in the nurse's office before I started fooling around. I'd take one every time I went down there. Took awhile to read all of them. I ran out reasons to go down there after awhile."

"I thought you couldn't read? What's that about?"

"Quit making stuff up, Z. I said I can't concentrate. A pamphlet every day and in a week or two I read them all. I kept 'em if you want them. I've checked the information out and it's right. Jason and Ben said it was. They don't do nothin without protection. Nobody that ain’t brain dead does."

"They protect themselves?" I asked.

"Mostly," he said.

"With you?"

"Always," he said. "Why don't you listen to me? I found out before I started doing stuff. I may not be bright but I ain’t got no death wish."

"I'm just making sure."

"Z, I already told you, now cut it out. You trying to fuck with my head?"

"I'm curious, that's all. I don't know this stuff."

"I gave them to my brother to read. They're in his room. I'll let you see them when you come over."

"You're brother. He has sex?"

"You ask a lot of questions, Z. You'll have to ask Craig what he does. I stopped taking notes. He knows about safe sex. The rest is up to him."

"You said you were with his friends."

"Let's change the subject. I'm not with them any more. I didn't start that. You don't need to know everything."

"So you are gay and that's that, huh? You don't think it's a stage or nothing like that?"

"It's not easy needing to hide it from people you hang with, especially with guys like Dart trying to find out who he can get to do what," he said. "You don't go through that unless you're gay. Life is easier for straight guys because they can let people know they're straight. Stages aren't what's happening with me. I know what I am. I think I’ve always known."

"I don't think it's easy on anyone. Dart doesn't know what he wants. His dick gets hard he wants it done. That's what he knows," I said. "In a way that's sad. Sex ought to be more than that. I mean it should be liking not just feeling good, you know."

"I thought you liked him so much," Paul said.

"I like what he makes me feel. I didn't say it was smart. It's the way it is. You don't half listen either. I don't like it he hurts people and doesn't care about it. I like him though. He's like a little lost boy."

"Yeah, and you found him! Dart's better than some. You say he said he wouldn't tell?"

"So don't let him get you to do anything he can tell about and you ain't got to worry none," I said, feeling a flash of anger at his thought.

"Look who's talking? I could give you the same advice."

"Yeah, but I'm not worried about Dart. He's cool and he won't say anything. You're worried about Dart and other people finding out about you."

"I've seen what they do to gay guys. I hope you're right, Z. He starts running off at the mouth once you stop giving him what he wants, I've got a feeling everyone will know about you. I'm not saying he will, I'm saying if he does."

"You know, I'm not worried about it. If it happens I'll deal with it."

"If you were a girl you'd be dealing with getting pregnant," he said.

"No, I wouldn't. I'd use a rubber and I'd be on birth control."

"Guys don't like rubbers," Paul said.

"You don't?"

"They break."

"If I were a girl you wouldn't be getting none off me. It might rain, wear your rubbers, my momma always says."

"You aren't a girl," Paul said.

"How could you tell?" I asked.

"Never mind," he said, turning his head so he could look at my face. "You still want to go out with me?"

"What's that about?"

"I told you the worst of it. The rest is kid stuff. If you still want to go out with me I'll figure we have a chance of being friends," he said.

"When? Where? You know about Dart and still want to go out with me, right? So I know about Ben and Jerry and I still want to go out with you," I said as he rolled over onto his stomach so he could look into my eyes.

"Ben and Jason and Clark. I don't care about Dart. I care about you," he said, taking his eyes out of mine when he said he cared. He looked around like I wasn't there. I could see him thinking.

"We don't even know each other," I said, working on the part about him caring and not sure I understood him. "I think we could like each other. I don't see why we can't."

"What do I have to know? I like you. How many guys can someone like? And if you like someone if you make an effort you accept what comes of it."

"You attracted to me, Paul?" I asked because it was suddenly important to me that he was.

"Geeze Louise! What do you want from me? I like you," he said. "Okay!"

"No, that's different. I know you like me. Are you attracted to me?"

Paul sat up and looked at me. When I looked at him, he looked away.

"Are you?" I asked, wanting an answer.

"You're serious? You're not going to make another joke about me liking you?"

"Paul, it's a simple question. Isn't it?"

"No, it isn't a simple question. I like you and I like looking at you."

"Why do you keep looking away if you like looking at me?" I asked.

"I don't know. You make me nervous. You make me feel embarrassed about liking you," he said. "Because I want to look. I don't like people knowing what I'm thinking. What do you think?"

"Exactly," Paul said. "I'm not attracted to the guys up at State. I like going up there and I like the way they treat me. It's like I'm one of them and they don't care about anything else. I like what we do, but there isn't anyone I want to be with. I just want to have a few beers, have some fun, and come home. With you I'd want to have some fun and stay the night. Is that attraction?"

"You want to have sex?" I deducted.

"No, I want to make love," he said.

"What's the diff?" I asked.

"Love is more than sex. Sex is biology. Love is emotion. Combine the two, Wow!"

"You complicate everything," I said exasperated.

"You're young," he said. "When you experience love the first time, you'll recognize it. It can't be denied."

"You've been in love?" I asked.

"No, not yet," he said, looking away from me again.

"How do you know what it is?" I asked, suspicious. "You make this stuff up as you go along."

"I don't," he said.

"You just told me what it was, Paul."

"I never told you what it was. I told you the mechanics because I've had plenty of sex and I know what that is and I know there would be a difference if I had sex with someone I loved. Do I need to be a rocket scientist to know what's missing?"

"I don't think so. So, I get a rush from Dart but that isn't love. It's what?"

"It's biology. You're satisfying an urge with Dart. He makes you feel something you like. Probably intensity. I like guys that are intense."

"So, if that's biology, what is it when you hold my hand and I get dizzy and horny from that?" I asked.

He smiled, looking away, squinting from looking into the sun.

"Well?" I questioned.

"You did that?" He asked, seeming real happy with himself as he played with my fingers and spent a lot of time not looking in my eyes.

"Well?"

"It means you're attracted to me," he said. "I was hoping you were. I got dizzy when I held your hand. Good dizzy not drunk dizzy."

He looked at me with the most curious smile on his face.

"You got something else too," I said.

"That's always that way. You don't get credit for every woody I get. I do like you, Z. Maybe most of today belongs to you. I mean if it doesn't sound too gross, me saying that."

"I don't know anyone has liked me that way before. Not that gross to me," I said. "I'm still learning this stuff. The more time I spend with you the more I like you though. I thought I was too young to be liking on someone already."

"More than Dart?" He asked.

"Different than Dart. When I'm with Dart I want to be getting down to it. Something about seeing him wanting it and knowing what it does for him. I like what it makes me feel."

"I can want it just as much as him any time you say," he said. "You just let me know."

"Right here?" I asked, and he started to unfasten his pants as two old ladies walked past.

"No. I didn't say right here," I said.

"You did too. You said, right here. You don't know what you say, do you?"

"I said, right here? That's a question, not a request. Not here, Paul. I don't know I like you that way yet," I lied, trying to hide my erection. "I'm still thinking on that."

"You like me that way. Look at your shorts. You're dripping in your drawers for me, Z. You want me bad. You know you want me."

"How do you know if I'm dripping or not?" I asked, sounding offended.

"You just told me," he said. "I can wait, Z. I've nothing but time if you like me."

My heart started pounding as I looked at him. I did like him just fine.

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