TRUE FIRST TIME TALES

Harley's First Time Tale

I got into some major trouble when I was a sophomore in high school. I lived in an apartment building near downtown Seattle with my mom. Dad had taken off when I was born, pretty much, and Mom did what she could. She worked long hours and kept up with most of the bills thanks to government aid and such.

I wasn't exactly a hellion, but I sure wasn't an angel. I was in trouble pretty often. I hung around with these guys from the apartment building, three older than me, two younger than me, in a sort of gang. We didn't do serious things, just stupid stuff we thought would prove how manly we were.

Well, one time the next-to-oldest of us got this stupid idea, and we broke into a construction site and one of the oldest guys hotwired a backhoe. We all hopped on and he ended up driving it right through the fence and then the guard shack and then into a couple of cars parked across the street. That was where a couple of us fell off of it. He kept on going, but not far before the cops showed up. I broke a leg and sprained that ankle and knee, and my back. I couldn't even get up to run, and I was easy pickings. So was the other guy who fell off and broke his ankle and his arm and had a concussion.

Long story short, after I was treated at the hospital, I was put on home detention and had to wear an ankle transmitter. With a broken leg and sprains I wasn't going anywhere anyway.

It was during the school year, so now I was going to end up way behind. I was already a crappy student and not much above failing. So now I was pretty much doomed to repeating sophomore year. All of my friends were involved with our little caper and were either in jail - the ones who were 18 - or on home detention just like me. Screwed.

So, about two weeks into my home detention, with Mom scolding me every day, it was about as close to hell as I'd ever experienced. No weed, no other drugs, nothing to do, no one to do anything with... and it was agony getting up to go to the bathroom. The doctor had been sure to give me the mildest painkillers he could, so I couldn't even get a drink from the kitchen without agony.

Then, one day, there's a knock on the door. I decided to let them knock until they went away. They didn't, so I hobbled my way to the front door, pissed as hell, and opened it to see a dork from school standing there. I wasn't even sure of his name. He was just one of the dorky dudes as far as I was concerned.

"I brought your homework," he said, holding out a really old backpack.

"Thanks," and I moved to shut the door without taking it.

"Wanna repeat sophomore year?" he asked as I closed the door.

Well, fuck. I opened the door and looked at him, then asked, "So, what. You're here to save me, or something like that?"

"Something like that," he said. "I asked, and I'll get extra-credits for tutoring you, if I can keep you from flunking out."

Figures. Do-gooder. Well, I really needed the help.

"I also brought your favorite past-time," he added, holding up a baggie of weed.

"How the fuck did you get weed?" I asked, shocked.

"I did the guy's history homework."

"So, what? I'm supposed to be all thankful or something?"

"Or something," he laughed, dangling the little baggie.

It wasn't much, about a dime-bag or so, but I had smoked all my own weed last week and hadn't gotten high for almost an entire week. And the shape I was in, getting high was about the next best thing to getting fucked. Not that I actually knew, I'd only gotten a couple handies from a couple slutty chicks so far. So I backed up and let him in.

"You wanna get started in here or what?"

"My room," I grunted.

He followed me, and I got my pipe and got busy filling it.

"You should probably wait until you've gotten some of your work done," he said, nodding at the backpack I'd tossed on the bed, next to where he was sitting.

"I'll decide what I do and when," I told him, then lit the bowl.

I even offered him a hit. Of course he shook his head no. He got some books out and got ready to tutor the idiot.

Well, I didn't make his job easy. I was in no mood for school work. But at least I was high. We didn't get much done. He left before my Mom got home.

He came back the next day. And the next. Every day except the weekends. When I ran out of weed, he brought another little baggie. He kept at it, sort of whittling away, until I was actually doing the schoolwork with him every day. Sort of. I wasn't going to turn into a scholar or anything, but I was getting the work done. He'd turn it in for me, and bring the graded ones home, along with the new assignments.

So, a month goes past, and winter comes on, and I'm getting graded papers back with Cs on them instead of my usual Ds and D- and Fs. And I'm actually understanding some of the shit. Weird.

Even weirder was that I was sort of getting to like the dork. He wasn't all that bad a guy. He could be funny, or serious, and he knew so much shit. And he was the only company I had. Mom got home late at night, so I was alone all day from before noon to nearly nine, except for six to eight when Mitch was there tutoring me. My friends and I still had months to go before our court dates, let alone any hope of getting off bracelet detention.

One day Carver sneaked out of his place and went up to see Darrel. It was four floors up in our building. The cops showed up and dragged him off a few minutes later, and now he was in juvie until his court date. Sucks for him. So now I was sure I wasn't going to be sneaking out of my place.

So Thanksgiving comes along, and Mom made a big meal and we sort of celebrated. Meh. The next day, Mitch brought over some food from his place. He stayed almost all day, until just before Mom got home. He came over most days during the school break, just to watch television and talk sports. He was more into baseballs than I was, so we had that in common too.

I'd say we were becoming friends, but I didn't want to think so. He was a dork and I wasn't. We weren't friends. But I had admit that without his help I'd be doomed to summer school or another year in tenth grade. And to a lot of lonely days.

Between Thanksgiving and Christmas break, the public defender said he'd gotten the charges down to a couple conspiracy charges. My court date was mid-March. I'd probably get off with just a few months in juvie, maybe even just do that on continued home detention. Cool. The two guys who were eighteen, one was the guy who actually hotwired and drove the backhoe, were looking at actual jail time.

During Christmas break, Mitch came over almost every day.

Then, the day before Christmas, he handed me a gift wrapped box.

"Christmas present?" I laughed.

"Yeah," he grinned.

I opened it to find a baggie of weed, a new-in-the-box fake 'life like' vagina, and a tube of lube.

I laughed.

"In case you'd like a little action instead of your fist all the time."

"Thanks. How the fuck did you get this?" I asked, holding the box up and opening it.

It was almost life-like, and rubbery and squishy and... you know, if you've ever handled one. It was the first one I'd ever seen, except the one we'd found in an alley one time that was all dirty and gross and we didn't dare pick it up.

"The clerks at the sex shop don't keep real close eyes on us goodie-goodie looking guys when there's a couple guys in there that look like the type to steal shit and they're wearing big, baggy coats."

We laughed.

Honestly, I couldn't wait for him to leave so I could try it out.

It was awesome! I fucked that fake pussy a couple times a day. I had to ask Mitch to get me more lube. He did, too. A bigger tube this time. And he made sure I had weed too.

Okay, by now I was thinking of Mitch as a buddy.

Probably his plan.

Anyway, not long after New Years, I was getting around better, the leg wasn't aching so much, I could move my foot and ankle, and my back was still sore but way more flexible. Another couple of months and I'd be out of the cast and able to get around.

Well, that was when he made his move.

It was the first week school was back from winter break. We were doing schoolwork on my bed, when I noticed his right hand, the one closest to me, was actually between us, and his fingers were sort of rubbing the side of my thigh.

I was really stoned. He'd gotten some great weed. He must have done something more than just a history paper to have gotten that hydro. It was killer shit. Still, I wasn't into having a dude stroking my leg.

"Dude, move your hand or I'll fucking break it."

He moved it, then said, "You know, Harley, I don't come over here just to be nice and help you not flunk out."

Well, you little conniving shit, I thought.

Then I thought, You fucking homo.

"What?" I asked, angry. "You really think I'm gonna go fag with you?"

He got really red-faced and I could see him forcing himself not to leave or something. He sat up a bit more and I could tell he was working up his guts. I sort of thought how he had some serious balls to be making moves on me, and then I thought how long he'd been coming here and thinking he'd get some fag action.

Dude had some balls. I almost admired him in a way.

"It's not like I thought you'd do anything with me," he said slowly, "It's just... I sort of hoped you'd, you know, be lonely enough, you'd... you know... let me blow you, or something."

Well, holy shit.

"I know you won't ever tell anyone, because everyone knows I've been bringing you your homework and turning it in for you. If you tell anyone, they know I've been coming here for months, and they're gonna think... well, you know what."

Well, holy fucking shit!

"I'm not asking you to do anything, just, you know... "

No, I didn't. But he'd told me.

"You want me to let you blow me?" I asked, really shocked and knowing I was sort of in a situation here I couldn't control.

Everyone at school knew he'd been coming? I hadn't ever thought about that. For months, he'd been coming over. Even during school breaks. He'd planned it out pretty fucking good.

"So, you told everyone you were coming here every day?" I asked.

"No. But I turned in your homework and I went around getting your assignments from your teachers. Figure it out. Everyone else did."

He dared to stare me down right then. Balls, I tell you. He had huge balls.

I'm not talking about his real ones, you know what I mean.

"So, what? If I don't let you blow me, what?" I asked, wondering what he'd do or say or what.

"Nothing."

Huh. Maybe he hadn't thought of that.

"Nothing. As in I won't bother coming back anymore," he finished, still staring at right me.

Mother-fucker.

I thought and thought. I didn't want no dude sucking my dick. I liked chicks. Totally. I'd gotten a few handies from a couple easy chicks. I still hadn't gotten any pussy, but I figured I get some not long after I got set free. I was a pretty decent looking guy, after all. In pretty good shape. I was so sure than once I went back to school, the girls would be all over me, what with me being just off home detention after that stunt. I was probably famous. Yeah, I was gonna get laid, for sure.

So, no, I didn't want no faggy dork dude sucking my wang.

He said, "You got another couple months on detention before your court date. You said you'll probably have a couple more months of detention to do after that. By the time you get off detention, you'll have a month, at most, to catch up on four or five months of work, and the month's worth of work during that month to get ready for finals."

Oh, I'd be screwed, and I'd be repeating tenth grade, despite all the studying and shit the last three months.

Fuck me.

"Or, you can just get really high, and let me blow you," he stated, grinning at me.

Then he pulled a little baggie out of his pocket. He shook it loose, and I saw a couple pills in it.

I looked back at him.

All he said was, "Ex," while giving me a huge grin.

Little fucking plotting faggot bastard!

I'd done ex a few times. I loved it. I had thought about asking him if he could get some, or some other of my favorites, but he was a goodie-goodie, so I really doubted it. I was pretty sure he'd even narc on me if I did. And now, there he sat, with two blue butterflies. They weren't exactly the strongest, but they were fucking fantastic. As long as it had been for me, one of them would trip me into warm bliss.

But... let him blow me for them?

Well, and the weed, and the help with homework.

And if I didn't... no help with homework, no more weed, and no blue butterflies.

Though I could whip those butterflies out of his hand and still have them.

"Can you get any more?" I asked, looking at the two blue pills.

"I have eight more," he grinned. "And another baggie of the hydro. And if you're really good, I can get some coke."

I used every swear I knew inside my head.

Seriously.

"Not like it's gonna turn you gay if you let a guy blow you," he said smoothly, using that tutor's tone. "You'll still like girls. That won't change. The only thing that'll change is you'll get a really good blow-job every day."

"Every day?" I asked.

That wasn't what I'd been thinking. Once. Just the once. And never again.

Every day?

For weed, some ex, and the homework help? And no summer school or repeating tenth grade. Hell, I'd flunk out of summer school, no doubts. If I even bothered to go.

Well...

Fuck!

"So, you're actually a fag?" I asked him.

He let the hand holding the bag of butterflies drop to his lap, looked kind of sad, then said, "Yeah, I am."

Let a fag blow me for two blue butterflies, some weed, and tutoring.

No summer school or repeating tenth grade.

No one would find out.

Man, I'd have to get seriously stoned and be trippin' out on ex, ... then maybe...

"You got a blue for every day?" I asked. "I'm gonna need 'em to... let a guy..."

Was I really even considering this? I thought, surprised at myself.

But those blues... and more weed... and not flunking out...

This bastard had me over a fucking barrel!

If I could get whacked enough...

 "I can get more," he said. "And some coke, maybe. And some acid. Just about anything."

I did not want to be a seventeen-year-old sophomore.

And I'd never had a blow-job.

I thought that maybe a fag could probably give pretty damned good head, too.

"Seriously, I'm gonna need a blue every time. And it's not gonna be every day. No way. Like... once a week. At most."

"Okay!"

Damn. I'd hoped he'd refuse and drop it.

"And no mess. You're gonna suck all the way and swallow."

"Okay!"

Damn. Well, that was predictable, I realized.

"I'm not touching your dick! Or anything."

"Okay!"

Shit. Was there anything I could do to make him drop the idea?

Nothing came to mind. Everything I could think of seemed to be something a fag would want or put up with to suck a dick.

"Look..." I said, wondering if I was really going to go through with this. "I like chicks. I'm no fag. I'm only doing this so I don't repeat tenth grade and so I have some weed and shit to get me through until I can get it myself."

"Yeah, sure. I get it."

"You don't tell a soul! Or I'll fucking beat you so bad your family won't be able to recognize you."

"You think I want anyone to know?" he answered.

"I sure don't!" I told him. "So... this stays between us. Right?"

He nodded.

I reached for those blues. He pulled them back and stuffed them into his pocket.

"Not until tomorrow," he said. "I'll come over right after lunch period and we'll have all day for you to trip out and relax."

Planned out and shit.

"Gonna skip?" I asked.

"I got ahead in my classes after lunch and cleared a half-day pass. In case."

Plotting bastard.

So, there I sat, having agreed to let a fag blow me tomorrow.

What the fuck???

Then he went into the schoolwork like nothing had happened.

Man, I needed to get high. I blew off most of what he went over, and he left before Mom came home. Talk about a weird night! It was almost like Mom could tell I'd agreed to let a guy blow me. I knew she couldn't... but still.

I couldn't sleep. I was awake almost all night. She got me up for breakfast, like usual, then went off to work. I thought about not answering the door when he knocked. I thought about knocking the shit out of him and taking the pills and shoving his body down the trash chute.

Instead, I answered the door when he knocked and let him in. He was all grins. Fag.

The second we got to my room, he opened his backpack and took out a baggie of weed and tossed it to me.

"The pill is in the bag," he said, taking his coat off and then sitting on the bed.

Man, how my hands shook as I opened the bag. I popped the blue, swallowed, filled the bowl, and toked hard. He handed me a little pill bottle. Inside was coke! Oh, man! Coke and Ex together gave a monster buzz! I tipped the coke out on a mirror and chopped it up. It wasn't much, not even enough to get me through a day when I was using it regular, but it was enough to really ride me up high once that blue kicked in!

And, sure enough, not even an hour later, I was trippin' balls. Blue butterfly, coke, and hydro... what a buzz!

I didn't even notice his hand on my thigh at first. I was sort of propped back on my hands behind me, just riding the buzz, feeling the waves, enjoying the warm fuzzies. Then the warm fuzzies were really nice, all soft and electric on my thigh.

His hand was running up and down my bare leg above my cast. I always wore shorts. I mean, they were all I could wear with a cast on my lower leg. And, damned if his hand running up and down that exposed skin didn't feel fucking great. Electric tingles with warm sparks and fuzzy waves.

To my surprise, and even a bit of embarrassment, I started getting a rager. Which, of course, on Ex and hydro, felt really amazing.

I didn't stop his hand. I watched it slowly circle and slide and glide. Hypnotic.

"Lay on your back," he told me.

I did, as if he were in charge or something.

His hand slid up further than before, just under the edge of the leg of my shorts.

Oooh!

I'd jerked off on ex, and weed, and coke, and acid, and a dozen other drugs, but someone else's hand stroking my skin while I was high... wow.

And... I was on ex, and weed, and coke, all at the same time.

And it wasn't my hand sliding and circling and tickling... further up the leg of my shorts.

It was scary. Honest. I was sort of scared. I mean, it felt really great - a hand on my thigh, almost under my shorts - so good I was almost shivering. Not to mention my dick was so hard it was making a tent through my briefs, boxers, and the shorts.

Then his hand moved above my shorts, outside them, and onto my hard-on. It followed the length of it, sort of gripped it, sort of stroked it...

Jesus! This was feeling too good!

He stopped groping my junk and then took my shirt off. I didn't resist at all. I was smooth and mellow and riding the waves.

He sat over me on his knees, straddling my lap, and started rubbing my chest. Mmm. Man, Ex was just perfect for that kind of stuff! It made your body so receptive and sensitive! I'd never had my nipples massaged before, so that was new, and nice, and really, really... wow.

My chest, my sides, my shoulders, my arms, my waist... his hands went everywhere, so soft and warm and smooth and relaxing and tingling and fuzzy and good.

I noticed that he was slowly sliding his ass up and down on my lap. My boner was aimed downward, trying to rise up, but trapped by the tight briefs. That felt so good it was wild. I was actually enjoying this fag ride my boner! And massaging my upper body.

Just for the hell of it, I started pushing my hips up, shoving my boner against his ass. That movement was intensely pleasurable! It sort of tightened my body and sent twangs up through my entire body from my raging boner.

"Feels good, huh?" he asked softly.

I said, "Oh, yeah," without thinking about it.

Hell, it did! It was the most pleasure I'd ever felt!

The way his hands moved all over my body, from waist to neck, was just so great. Tingles and electric sparks and warm fuzzy waves followed them. The best was the way my nipples went all hard and felt like little batteries were hooked up to them. When his hands would just barely brush over them it made me want to curl up. But when he stopped and played with them, softly pinching them, rolling them between his fingers... it was like... I don't even have the right words. I could feel the pleasure in my balls, my dick, my ass, my eyes! Everywhere.

I know I was moaning. I don't know what, not at all, just that I was letting it out and couldn't have stopped doing so. My body twisted and bent under his hands. I was probably breathing hard, too. Hard to remember all the little details. All that really survived the hydro haze was the high points and the overwhelming level of pleasure. It was like feeling my body for the first time, ever.

I don't have a clue how long he sat on my lap and explored my upper body with his hands. An hour? Two?

I didn't care, either. It was the best thing I'd ever felt and I was enjoying it immensely.

One of the best things about it was the way his ass brushed over my trapped dick. It sent ripples of hot sex all through me every time. I didn't care at all that it was dude's ass, or that it was a gay dude's ass. I don't think I even considered the fact that it was a dude at all. It didn't matter. All that mattered were the sensations and the new feelings of pleasure that wracked every inch of me.

At some point, with my nipples actually almost sore and tingling, he slid his hands all the way down my front, to my stomach, and finally to the waistband of my shorts. He knee-walked down over my knees, and pulled my shorts down. Then he got up and took them the rest of the way off my legs.

He moved my leg with the cast outward so that my heel was resting on the footstool there, and then slid my boxers off too, gently taking them out from under my heel. Now I was only in my colored briefs, and I watched him stare at me.

It was obvious he liked what he saw. I mean, his grin was proof plenty. So was the fact that I could make out his boner in his jeans. I'd never once considered him having a hard-on, but now I thought it was pretty cool that I was giving him one. And it seemed like a pretty decent one, too.

"You know, Harley, you have a really great body," he sighed.

I probably grinned from ear to ear. It was nice to have someone tell me that. I sort of knew it, but hearing it was great.

"Now, let's see that dick of yours," he said with an even bigger grin, and then tugged my briefs down. He got them down to my knees and stopped there, just looking. "I knew you'd have a good one."

That was great to hear, too!

But, yeah, I did have a good one. I was sixteen, almost seventeen, and I had a good six inches and a bit down there. Nothing amazing, but it was beefy and firm and had a nice plump head. Right now that head was amazingly red and dripping pre-cum. That surprised me. As I looked, a string of it dripped down and connected my hole and my skin above my pubes. Little pearls ran down it to land on my skin and start spreading out in a little pool. My dick slowly bobbed, feeling like it was swelling up with every beat of my heart. And, man, the way it and my balls tingled! That was some good Ex!

He took my briefs the rest of the way off, being nice and careful with my cast, and then moved my good leg out to the side so that he could get between my legs.

I propped myself up on my elbows so I could see what he did. Don't ask my why, I just did. So I saw him run his hands up the outside of my thighs, up to my waist, and then over my stomach and then down to my pubes. Damn how that touch was so warm and wonderful! Then he grabbed my dick with one hand and my balls with the other.

Oh, wow!

It was like feeling my first erection all over again!

His hand was warm and soft and smooth, and as it moved the loose skin down that first time my entire body stretched out and quivered. It was so intense!

He used his forefinger to spread some of my pre-cum around the tip, and that smooth, slick, gliding sensation made my muscles quiver and tense and relax in waves. I sucked in air and shivered all over, it felt so fucking good!

I felt his other hand rolling my balls around. Over and around, smooth and silky and awesome. So good it made me want more.

"So you never had a blow-job?" he asked, his mouth just inches from the tip of my head.

I was shaking all over, in a pleasurably intense way, and said, "No."

"So," he said slowly, almost teasingly, "Do you want one?"

"Yeah!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

"Are you really sure you want to feel my warm, wet lips slide over your soft, hot head?"

Oh, God! My legs went sideways, even the one in the cast! The tension and tingles in my body grew stronger and wilder!

"Yeah!"

"Are you sure you want me to suck your dick, and run my tongue all along it, and move my lips up and down and up and down?"

Jesus Christ!

"YES!" I yelled, way too loud. "Please!" I laughed.

Every muscle was tense and tingling and almost quivering. I wanted to kick my legs and pound my fists into the bed and scream at him to just suck me already.

I watched his mouth open, I watched it slowly drop closer to my head, and then I saw his lips gently close over my head.