Rated: PG Contains: Gay theme, sexual and drug references
Jeff, and The Circle Begins
two and a half years ago
The summer was over, and freshman year was just hours away. My guts boiled at the thought of dealing with the changes and worries of my first
year in high school. Will I end up getting 'The Freshman Treatment'? Is some bully going to pick me out for special attention? A bathroom
swirly? Or worse? I'm probably bigger than most of the bullies, though, even if I ain't fourteen yet. Ha, maybe I should be the bully. I'm almost big
enough, but it ain't me to be one. I'm the one to be bullied. Man, why do people have to be violent? Swirlies, wedgies, beatings, wearing my
lunch, the list seemed endless to me as I ran it through my head, fearing every one would be perpetrated upon me the very first day. Probably by first
period, I feared. I was a smart kid, a quick learner, and had a good memory for whatever I set my mind on. I had been bumped over fifth grade,
suddenly becoming the youngest in my sixth grade class, and thusly, the class whipping boy. I would from then on be one of the youngest kids in all of
my classes. I would have been among the smallest as well if puberty hadn't kicked in early, but thankfully it had, and I had been nearly average in
height during eighth grade the previous year. At thirteen and entering high school, I was a bookworm, played Dungeons and Dragons, liked video
games, didn't play sports, and got great grades. I wasn't expecting to be very popular, or having many new friends. My reddish-brown hair was long,
and I liked it that way, but it was unruly and preferred to curl loosely rather than be combed. I still wore those brown, plastic-framed
glasses. The biggest change, though, was in how I saw the people around me, mostly the guys. Tom, being almost a year older than me, was
showing interest in girls, and was being more and more vocal of his interest. I played along, making the comments that I expected he expected, but I
found myself far more interested in him, and other guys in general. Sighing at how long I had worn those 'beat-me-now' glasses, sleepless with
the excitement and dread of the first day of high school, I lay on the bed looking out at the bright, clear sky. The rain of a few minutes ago was
already drying in the warm morning, steaming off the streets, making the already uncomfortably humid day even worse. I smiled, thankful for the
central air conditioning in the two year old house. My stomach roiled again, not from hunger, but nerves. No breakfast, I knew, sitting up on
the bed. I wasn't horny, which was unusual, and I looked down at my limp dick and it's reddish-brown patch of hair. Close to being a hot
redhead, but not quite, like in everything, I bemoaned. I sighed again and stood, stretching. After a shower, I dressed in dark blue jeans, a
new, black Styx concert tee, and my good white tennies. When I checked the clock, I knew the bus would be at the stop in half an hour. I grabbed the
backpack and walked slowly out of the bedroom door and downstairs. My parents had the pep talk all ready for me on my first day of high school;
be nice and you'll make friends, listen to your teachers and you'll learn and succeed, all that stuff. I heard it mostly as a background buzz,
responding with automatic phrases. They wished me a good day as they each left for another day at their jobs. When the clock said it was seven-thirty,
I headed to the door, met Tom at the sidewalk as we planned, then we walked almost silently to the bus stop on the distant corner. It would
would have been faster to ride my bike, and I could have slept almost an hour longer, I knew; we both knew. I had almost ridden my bike alone, instead
of riding the bus with Tom, but then this was easier, just a lot earlier. And Tom was not going to ride a bike that far unless he had to. My
mind tried to find ways of getting Tom a moped for a short time, until it remembered that we were waiting for the bus to our first day of school.
Nearly every year of my life I had looked forward to school. I liked it, though I didn't make many friends there. My close friends were neighbors, not
classmates. What few friends I did have were few and far between, and I spent most of my time alone building model World War Two ships or classic
cars, or reading sci-fi or fantasy books when I wasn't with Tom at the arcade or the movies. I was extremely nervous and we both shuffled
our feet nervously standing together in nervous anticipation and near dread. It was hot and humid already, so there was an excuse for the sweat on my
face, but I knew it wasn't all caused by the heat. I belched after my stomach roiled again. Tom and I chatted some, about our classes,
about what we thought the teachers would look like, and wondering who would be in the first fight of the year, and if it would be the first day or
not. A new school year was always exciting, but this was high school. And we were riding a bus for the first time. Suddenly it rolled, hissing
and groaning to a stop in front of us, seemingly out of nowhere. The busy traffic on the major road had hidden it, and I hadn't been looking for it,
preferring my own inner theater between comments with Tom. The doors opened with many a squeak and a bang. The driver, who probably looked older than
he was, was balding with red hair and glasses. He looked very much like Bozo's sidekick, Cookie the Clown. I suddenly thought that I could be looking
at myself in thirty years; I shivered. "Come on dude, get on!" Tom said, pushing me through the doors and up the steps. I hadn't
realized that I had hesitated. The driver held up a hand and asked to see our student I.D. cards. I had been holding it at the stop, knowing I
would have to show it to get on the bus. I held it up for him to see. He gave it a quick glance that told me he only wanted to see if we had one, not
if we were who it said we were. The large red "42" under the word "Route" was probably all he needed to see. I turned
and saw that the bus was nearly half full. A few familiar, but not friendly, faces were there along with many new and strange ones. "Dude!
Get a seat, were gonna get tossed around in here!" Tom prodded, prodding me down the aisle from behind as well. The back seats were
completely occupied by the jocks, so I wasn't willing to go that far back. Up front, the total nerds and geeks filled the first few rows. Halfway up
the bus were some empty benches, so I headed toward them. As I walked down the aisle, I took glances at the other kids as secretly as I could. I was
nearly half the distance to the bench I had chosen when the bus groaned and lurched. Not used to the sensation, I stumbled forward. I grabbed at the
back of the nearest bench seat, and the kid sitting there, staring out of the window, suddenly snapped his head around to stare at me. On the
first day of my freshman year at high school, walking onto the bus for the first time, I stumbled and found myself face to face with the most gorgeous
guy I had ever seen in person. When I had stumbled, I had reached for the seatback out of instinct, hitting it hard enough that the guy
sitting alone next to the window quickly spun his head around. His thick, straight, shaggy, bowl-cut hair weaved around, swaying across his brow as we
locked eyes. I had never before felt anything like I did then. There was a sudden, almost electrical shock that seemed to paralyze me. I
could almost see a sparkling haze around the two of us, locking my muscles into position. My body tensed, my breath stopped, and my heart
hammered. My palms tingled then itched terribly. I instantly began to sweat even harder, all over. His blue eyes were a pale blue, like I had
not seen before, and they held me prisoner. They were beautiful, and strange, and wonderful. Their color was between light sky blue and blue ice. The
dark of his pupils drew me into them. The light lashes around those eyes seemed as tall as trees suddenly; they swayed over me, reaching majestic
heights. The slope of his nose was a pure field of snow covering a ranging mountain's sides. His lips, full and soft, lusciously curved, were a pair
of dark red seas. He licked them with a red tongue as he stared at me in shock. I didn't know what to say. There were no words I knew. His
gentle, round face seemed frightened, and I realized that he was waiting for the bully to strike. Tom pushed me from behind, shoving me
down the aisle of the accelerating bus. I stumbled my way to the empty seat and fell into it, sliding easily to the window. "What's the
deal?" Tom asked. "You gettin' motion sickness or something?" he continued with a laugh. "Huh? Nuttin'," I lied,
immediately knowing that I looked guilty. Oh, shit! I thought, First day of high school, first minute on the bus, and my faggy ass falls in
love? I'm not about to tell my best bud I thought I just I fell in love at first sight! And with a guy! But such a guy! I guess it's love. Or
something! It's sure not just like! Lust? Oh man! I do want to see what he's got, and what he looks like naked! I found myself wondering
what the new kid was built like beneath his clothes, and what he looked like naked. I imagined his shapes and sizes, and what he talked like, and
what he would like to do in bed. When I caught myself, I admonished myself for thinking such faggy thoughts. Then I hoped he was in my gym class with
all the will I possessed. Then I wished that he wasn't, because if he was, I was going to be hard as a rock if I saw him naked, and I knew it. I knew
he would have body hair, and probably light blond hair too, like I thought was so sexy. I bet I get to see lots more hot guys in gym! Oh shit! I
thought as I remembered what lay ahead. My first day in gym class! Showers! Hell! Can't be any different from junior high, can it? I mean, two years
of showers and changing in junior high, about the same right? More guys is all. Oooo, more guys! New guys! Older guys! So long as it's not him! I
thought, taking a glance at his bright blond hair. He seemed to be looking out of the window again. I wonder what the chances are he's gay? Or
anybody on this bus right now? I wonder how many guys on this bus want to suck cock like I do? I wondered. Or even have? Oh, my god! I'm becoming such
a fucking fag! Why? I can't let Tom know, I thought, and returned my attention to my buddy sitting next to me, shoving the overwhelming sexual
thoughts deep down where they were well hidden. We chatted as the bus made the rest of its pickups, then eventually arrived at school. As we
stopped in front of the massive, old building, my stomach dropped; not just in fear or loathing of being bullied, but in melancholy remembrances too.
It struck me how much my life had changed over the summer; I had become even closer friends with Tom, and Jon, and then met and befriended Eric, and
had smoked grass for the first time and had a pretty good dealer in Tim. Most importantly, or so it seemed, I had begun to realize that I
probably would like guys more than girls; over summer break I had jacked off and been jacked off by two guys, and a third and I had discovered oral
sex, I had given head to Tom's older brother Jon several times, and Tom and I had begun to jack each other off fairly regularly. Now, more
changes are imminent, I bemoaned, looking out at the huge building and the incredible number of kids visible. Tom and I had compared class schedules
the first day we had received them in the mail. We would have not a single class together. Lunch was the only time through the day we would see each
other, if we didn't passing in the halls of the sprawling complex. Tom stood up and waited for an opening to step into the aisle. I took a brief
glance at his ass as I still sat, hid a smile, then stood and watched the other kids as slyly as I could as they headed down the aisle. My eyes had
already begun taking in the guys and ignoring the girls by then. Once on the pavement, my eyes soaked in the sight of the new kid from behind as he
headed toward the school alone. Yep, nice ass back there, I caught myself thinking. Then I thought; I'm such a fag! I had been there
for orientation with Tom, filling out our paper work and getting our identification cards, and had walked around finding our classrooms, assigned hall
lockers, and putting the locks on them that the orientation letter had said to bring. The building was enormous! All one story, it stretched over four
city blocks. Several wings shot out from the seemingly main entrance, only to link up via random seeming hallways with each other on the other side of
the central quad. At lunch, the cafeteria was a huge, multi-walled arena, sub-dividable by moveable, cloth-covered wall partitions. It was
filled with more kids than I had ever seen before at one time. The sudden idea of an all-school assembly nearly seemed frightening. Hundreds of kids,
it seemed, were talking, laughing and eating! The lunch lineup was familiar, but much better than middle school. There was even pizza available all
the time, fountain soda, ice creams, and other stuff I had heard but not really believed were available. Tom and I found several friends to sit
with. We weren't in the total geek clique, but we were far from the popular ones. Several friends from junior high joined us, and we sat having lunch,
trying not to be noticed. It seemingly worked. Fifth period P.E. wasn't as bad as it could have been, either. We had to pick gym shorts and
shirts and try them on in the locker room after getting our locker assignments. I cursed at a school that assigned all your lockers. Changing
was as embarrassing as it had been the very first time in junior high. There was such a wide variety of guys changing around me, that I couldn't
keep the comparison with a buffet from rising again and again as I dressed quickly and headed out to the gym. Once approved by the teacher for fit,
and for the horribly embarrassing cup, I was given two more shorts and shirts of the same sizes and told to change back into my street clothes. I
roamed the gym then, admiring the legs and bodies of the many guys still being checked. I met up with some friends from junior high, and together, the
small group of us waited for the bell to release us. The next classes were unremarkable, and the last class, English Composition, was one I had
looked forward to until I met the teacher. She was a bun-wearing, bespectacled, floral dress-wearing, droning old crone. I had hoped to enjoy the
class, but it was clear from the first day that she was only interested in the hard and fast rules and the study of the stale classics. After
the first day was finally over, I got the things I needed from my locker and headed outside. I was hoping I would see the new kid while we waited for
our bus, and maybe even get a chance to talk to him for a while. Our bus didn't leave until four-fifteen, almost an hour away. Out by the bus
stop area there was no one familiar. I had forgotten to ask anyone where they got their bus, and considering busses left from three of the four sides
of the school, and in three waves spaced over twenty minutes apart, it was unlikely many I knew would be near where I was to wait for my bus. I made a
mental note to find out tomorrow where and when some friends got their buses. There were hundreds kids milling about in all directions outside the
school, and finding anyone was unlikely. I sat down against the brick wall a few feet from the doors and decided to wait and watch the others,
and maybe someone would walk by I knew. At the least there were the views of them all to take in. The range of guys was astounding. Not
only was it nice to see so many, and so many different guys, but so many older guys, too! It seemed nearly every senior was hot, even if they were
heavy, geeky, ugly, or jocky. So long as they didn't have a mustache or beard, sideburns or hairy shoulders, I couldn't resist. One guy stood out from
the rest. I saw his red hair first, from behind, and saw that if it was a girl, that she wasn't very curvy and she kept her hair really short. I
thought it might be Eric, but I knew he was in eighth grade, still at the junior high. This guy was taller, too. I watched for a long time, admiring
the slim ass and hoping there were goodies dangling out front, and not a slit there and breasts up top. I knew I liked redheads a lot, and seeing some
at school was interesting to say the least, but one that might be around to be admired everyday after classes was very welcome. Man, I hope
that's a guy! He's got a nice ass, and nice shape, has to be a guy. I'd love to go over there and tap his shoulder, have him turn around, and reach
out and grope him real good and see what was in the front between those nice legs. Stop it! Someone could catch you! I tried to change track and
think of something nice and normal, as non-gay as I could come up with. It was only moments before I was again thinking of the new kid on the bus, the
one with the great hair and the incredible eyes. I am being so gay! Why am I such a fag? What's with that? Why don't I dig chicks like Tom
and everybody else? Why the fuck did I like doing that stuff with the guys over summer? And why do I like sucking dicks? That was so fun! Jon's dick
is so nice! And I liked it. And Roger's over summer. That was great! Fuck. And I'd give anything if I could do some of that with the new guy. I do
like the new guy! He's fucking hot! I really like him, don't I? I like guys? I'm gonna be a fag? Why? Tom thumped down next to me with a groan
and the words, "So, how go'd it?" "Okay, I guess. No swirly or wedgies, anyway," I said, smiling at him. "No
shit! I got chased by Todd Warwick, but he gave up. Probably have to tomorrow too, I guess." We shook our heads and waited, chatting about
our classes, teachers, and classmates. We bitched about how we arrived too early and had to wait too long for our bus home. We knew that if we had
biked, that we would have been home before our bus even arrived at the school to pick us up. I knew it anyway, but I rarely pointed it out. Tom was
not the type to bike that distance. When the second round of busses finally departed, and our own pulled up, we slowly got up and gave the first
kids plenty of room to get on before we did. I searched around the area, even standing on tip-toes, looking for the adorable new kid. I hoped he
wasn't about to miss the bus! I had to play it cool as I got on the bus, but I looked frantically around for him. I didn't know him, or
even know his name or what grade he was in, but I was intensely worried that he would miss the bus. The various scenarios of how he could possibly
make the miles long trip to wherever he lived out past us played though my head. I felt worried and almost physically sick. There was an empty
seat on the left, the same we had used that morning, so I took it and waited impatiently, my leg bouncing on my foot. My watch said we had less than
five minutes before the bus left. As soon as I could, I asked as nonchalantly as possible about the kid I had almost fallen onto. "Oh?
Jeff? Yeah, he's in my home ec. Just moved from downtown. Seems okay. he recognized me and was sort of staying away from me like I was after
him," he laughed. The idea that the adorable new kid thought us, me, a bully, and was probably scared of us, me, seemed to hurt me more
than anything else; I hated that I could have made such an impression on someone so cute. What the hell? He's just some guy! Maybe he's cuter,
but what do I care if he don't like me? After only moments of thought, my own answer was obvious. Shit, hell yes I fucking care! Damn,
he's so cute, and I only saw him a little! And I don't have a clue where his locker is. Or where his classes are. Shit! "He seem
okay?" I asked, again trying to sound uninterested. "Yeah, sure, I guess. Quiet. Didn't talk to anyone. If the teacher hadn't done the
usual state your name crap, I wouldn't know shit about him." Suddenly he was running out of the doors toward the bus. He had too many books
and no bag, and it looked like he was running as fast he could. His hair weaved a halo around his face, the sun making it seem to glow. He ran with
his chest a bit forward, his arms cradling his load of books. I watched without seeming to as he got on, searched for a place to sit, and ended up
where he had been that morning. He kept his eyes downward, and wore a small frown. "He looks lonely, and sad," I said. "He
might be. I got that feeling, too. You know what?" Tom asked, putting his book bag on the bench between us. "Be right back," he said as
he stood up, surprising me. He sat down next to the kid and they talked. I felt horribly exposed and worried. What Tom was doing was obvious in
no time when the two of them stood up and walked toward me. I went into panic mode immediately. I felt more sweat suddenly break out on my forehead
and under my arms. My body felt as if it was being gently electrocuted. I was suddenly mad at Tom, furious he would do that. Tom sat back down next to
me, the new kid took the empty bench ahead of us. "Alex, this is Jeff. Jeff, my buddy Alex." Tom said, pointing to us in turn. "Hi,"
Jeff said, waving briefly, a small smile on his face that seemed to bleed away into nothingness immediately. As I saw him up close for the
second time, face to face, I felt my heart stutter. Full, red, soft-looking lips stood out clearly against the smooth, light skin of his gentle, round
face. The straight, light blond hair on his head matched his eyebrows, which were almost invisible above those cornflower-blue eyes surrounded by
light eyelashes. He was adorable. As he had waved, I made note of the size and relationships of his fingers to his hand size out of
habit. It was something I had been doing since my first sexual experience with another boy. I was watching the relationship between fingers, hands,
and penis sizes, taking every opportunity to validate an old theory with real world data. I wondered if someday I could get Jeff to help with the
research. Boy I hope so, I thought as I said, "Hi," back. "Where you from?" "Moved from Oklahoma to
Chicago. Live on Redburn now, Hemphill Apartments, near the big Anglican church, you know it?" Redburn Road. I ran the map of the bus
route that came with the school orientation papers through my mind's eye. His was the first stop in the morning, making him the first on the bus. It
was also the last stop after school. He lived across the highways, the interstate, and almost downtown. His apartment building was well known for its
name alone, despite the fact it was one of the oldest buildings around it. It was also fairly nice, and expensive, and that was no secret either. The
building was said to be very nice inside, its 1920's deco lobby intact, and famously so. It was surrounded by businesses and office buildings, holding
out against the renovation of the city's west-side suburban sprawl between the interstate highway corridors surrounding it. Looking at him
as he talked, I noticed first that he wore braces, and that his voice was smooth, light, and he rounded his vowels just a tiny bit. I liked it all. He
had the fullest lips, like red lusciousness defined. They stood out against his fair complexion and framed his white teeth and braces nicely. His
yellow hair was thick, straight, and full, in a tapered bowl-cut that was longer than most. It was cut so that the thickness of it was emphasized; the
only thing that I could compare that too was the shape of Tweaky's head from the Buck Rogers series with Gil Gerrard. It was mostly smoothly in place,
only slightly ruffled from his run to the bus. His intensely bright blue eyes were stunning. His eyes! They continually drew my own to them.
There were strange and weird feelings being stirred by this adorable guy. I tingled all over just looking at him, and having him so close almost
seemed to fill me with electricity. "Yeah, I know where that is," I answered. "Is it as cool as I heard?" "Yeah,
I guess. Where do you live?" Jeff asked. "Catherine, off Broadway." "Isn't that all like mansions?" he asked, his
eyes a bit wider. "Mostly. We live in the smaller houses. We live one house from each other," Tom offered. "That must be
cool." We talked and shared jokes and became three friends by the time our stop came up. We said bye to our new friend as we got off the
bus, and when I looked back as the bus started away, Jeff nodded, smiling widely, and waved at us through the window. I waved back, also smiling. "Tom,
that was cool of you, going over and asking him to come over," I said to my best buddy. The anger at him had been washed away the second
that I had started talking to Jeff, and the worry and embarrassment had worn off. It was as if I had known him before, or as if I had never been
nervous around new people. "Well, like you said, he looked lonely, and sad, and, well, why not?" Tom asked, pushing his glasses up his
nose again. "This way he don't think we're assholes and you were fucking with him." "Yeah, about that. What did you say to him to
get him to come over? He was probably scared I was trying to be his bully or something." "Nah," Tom laughed. "I told him how
you're so clumsy and just fell was all. Then I said you kind of felt bad about it and didn't want him to think you was being all shitty to him and to
come over and talk to us." "I didn't know you had the balls, and I should know!" I said, laughing. Tom displayed his
thoughts by smiling mischievously, bouncing his eyebrows, and blushing, then wordlessly raced me to my house. Two older guys at the lake over
summer vacation had been very instructional in things sexual. The three of us knew of a lost cave not very far from the lake, and there we had
experimented with magazines and big talk, then demonstrations, then mutual sessions with our hands and each other. Then a visit to relatives in
Michigan had led to some very fun times with the only neighbor for miles, and a truly educational time for me. On returning, I had caught Tom's
eighteen year-old brother jacking himself off, and he had continued to do so to the movie as we watched. He explained what he knew to me, and I asked
many questions. Soon we were matching timing and speed with the experience of the guy on screen, as I had demonstrated the technique I had so recently
learned. Before long, the girl began to suck on the guy's cock, and I leaned over and begun giving Jon a blow-job, emulating the girl in the movie.
Jon had begun showing me his few porn tapes over the next few days. I already knew that I was at least somewhat more interested in those things than
most guys, and I was interested to see where things with Tom would go. Tom and I had become very close friends instantly after moving into our
new houses two years earlier, and so far Tom had not shown any interest in doing anything like most of the other guys had. I was growing concerned
that I was becoming a raging faggot, and my best friend was becoming a homo hater. Back at the beginning of summer, we had started talking about sex
and girls. One afternoon, just weeks ago, after some grass and a look through the newest magazine, the conversation between Tom and I had
turned to orgasms, and how much semen was usual. By the end of that afternoon we had found out just how much the other came. Hastily performed
masturbation into my sink answered the question: I won for quantity, but Tom won for distance. It had been one of the most sexually charged things I
had ever done, including my very first sexual experiences. I was attracted to Tom, and found doing sexual things with him was interesting and
rewarding. And I had begun to understand that there was more to have and to want, and that there was more than the physical to like about it, or
a person. We were masturbating together several times a week, and that day after the first day of freshman year, Tom and I raced upstairs to my
room, intending to repeat it, and instead, surpassed it. I filled the bowl and Tom pulled out the magazines. Within half an hour, we were at the sink
in my bathroom. We stood side by side, our pants and shorts shoved down to our ankles, a Playboy between us. That afternoon, I asked Tom if I
could show him something really great. He said okay, and I jacked him off. At some point, he returned the favor, but I didn't notice until we began
cleaning up. Afterward, we watched television, mostly silently, and oddly so, myself feeling a bit embarrassed and completely unsure how to act,
even more than any of the times with any of the others. It was a while before Tom spoke. "Uh, Alex, is it okay if we do it that way
next time?" I played it cool and said, "Sure, anytime." "It was really good!" he said, grinning widely and
blushing a bit. I didn't want to tell him how much I had liked it, but I did want to, too. I knew not to. "It is better than doing it
yourself. Like I said. I wouldn't of showed ya if not." "Cool." We returned to the television, talking normally and just
being friends. I wanted so much more from him, but I wasn't sure what it was. I was happy to have what I did with him. It wasn't long before I
found myself thinking of Jeff. I hoped that I could call Jeff a friend. I was thirteen, but I knew not everyone could end up friends. I could hope,
and do what I could to try to get that to happen; and I intended to do just that. After the first day of high school, I was sure that I very much
wanted Jeff in my life. I was thirteen, but after the first day of high school, I was sure that I very much wanted Jeff in my life, and I was
becoming more and more sure that I was gay. ***** The next day on the bus, Jeff was in the same seat as we
climbed aboard and took ours. I was thrilled when I saw that. We talked and found out that we all liked horror and fantasy flicks, having seen many of
the same movies over the summer. We compared notes on Alien, which I demanded was the best movie of all time, eclipsing even Star Wars of over two
years before. Tom and Jeff were furious. Mad Max, The Black Hole, and Prophecy got thumbs up all around, though I was more enthusiastic over Prophecy
than they. We liked the same kind of comedies too. We began quoting Blazing Saddles, Young Frankenstien, and other movies. We all read the
same kinds of books as well, but Jeff had never played Dungeons and Dragons, and didn't want to, and didn't seem interested in fantasy or
science-fiction books. We all found the fact that they both had younger brothers named Todd bizarre, and spoke about them for a while.
Jeff's Todd was much older, ten, while Tom's brother was six. Both seemed to be identically pesky. I was a bit jealous that they shared that together,
and that I had no hope of such a close tie. My second day at high school went fine, even PE. It wasn't too bad, changing clothes in front of
everybody and showering in such large numbers, after all. We had to shower even though all we did was get dressed, play with the balls the coaches
passed out, jump ropes, or other mundane junk between picking sports or activities for the year. I found out that mountain climbing was
only for sophomores or older, to my anger. I ended up taking the cross country skiing option that would kick in when there was enough snow, and
volleyball and softball first and second semesters. My friends had taken much the same choices. In the showers, I found that that many
naked guys made the nudity almost nothing. Nothing, except it was a hundred naked guys ranging from prepubescent boredom to developed handsomeness. I
managed to not get hard, didn't get caught staring, and enjoyed the show more than I was worried. I looked forward to four years of it. ***** On
the third day I asked Jeff if he could come over and spend the night at my house on Friday along with Tom and Eric. Jeff, who apparently had never had
a sleepover before, was unsure if his mother would let him. He said he would talk to her about it, not mentioning the Dungeons and Dragons of course,
and would let us know tomorrow. Jeff still didn't know that Tom and I smoked pot, and it was obvious that he didn't, and probably would never be
interested. In that short time, we had became good friends, the three of us. Jeff lived across town, and it was a long, almost impossible bike
ride either way, so the only visitations we would get was on weekends, if we could get a ride from one of our parents. He lived with his mother and
brother while his dad was usually away working. His dad was a technology consultant, and while he made good money, he did it by flying around the
country from business to business. He often spent months at each location, sometimes with as little time between as it took to get to the next job. It
had been almost six months since he had been home for two days around Todd's birthday. The next day on the bus, Thursday, Jeff was beaming as we
climbed aboard, and couldn't wait to announce that his mom had said it was okay if she could meet my parents first. Once home, I explained to my
parents that I had a new friend, and that I wanted him to stay over for the Friday night sleepover, but that his mom wanted to meet them first. After
another day of arranging things, Jeff's mom was coming over for dinner next Friday night with her sons. It was one of the longest weeks of my
life. Tom and I spent nearly every afternoon after school in my bathroom, and at night I thought of Jeff. I even dreamt of him, and of doing so many
things with him. It was nothing new to have sex dreams of guys, but the ones of Jeff were very vivid, and very strong. I felt things in them that I
couldn't explain, emotions that were strange and seemed even more potent in the dreams. I often simply dreamt of holding him, stroking him, simply
being with him, but they were so sexual charged that the sex entered the dreams in strange images and blurred visions. I began to wonder if Jeff was
making me crazy. When that next Friday finally came, the three of us were so excited that the bus ride seemed to take no time at all. We had all
become seemingly best friends by then. Jeff was to go home as usual, coming over later for dinner with his brother and his mom. Tom was coming over to
my place after school, then home for a while, then back to my place with Jon if he came for the night. Jeff, his brother, and his mom were
due at six, the same time Eric usually showed up. I shut off the new T.G. Sheppard song after changing the station to the popular rock station and
rubbed my hands together, trying to calm myself. It's just a guy and his brother and his mom! No big deal. No big deal! It's just gorgeous,
sexy, hot Jeff! No! It's just Jeff, damn it! Shit! I'm so gonna fuck this up! I'm so faggy! Jeff is a great guy with a good sense of humor, who
likes cool stuff, I really wanna get to know him even more. His brother is only ten, but could be an okay little kid if he's like his bro. It's Jeff's
mom that has me worried. She seems really strict from the way he talks. Dune's on her long-ass not-allowed reading list for fuck's sake. Getting in
trouble with her has to be so easy. I knew she was very religious, and I had warned my parents of it. They had said that it would be nice
to have a faithful person over for dinner and looked forward to meeting her. Tom returned with Jon, and their parents permission for the
usual overnight at my house. They had never refused since our parents had become friends as well, often having patio parties or cards nights while we
were at the other house. Eric had arrived shortly after Tom and Jon, and we were all in the den, with Eric kneeling at the television,
flipping it back and forth between channel five and nine. I wasn't watching, was instead intent on my inner thoughts as we waited for Jeff, Todd ,and
their mom to arrive. Jeff had explained on the bus that his mom had pretty much agreed to let them stay, and as long as she didn't see anything
to worry her, she planned on going back home alone and picking them up tomorrow afternoon. When the knock came, the other guys waited in
the den. I was the first to the door, but waited until my folks were there before swinging it open. Jeff stood in front, Todd to the right, and their
mom behind, between, and over them. Todd and Jeff each carried identical, matching sleeping bags and packs that looked brand new. Jeff was
simply gorgeous. Contrasting with his stiff, new-looking school clothes, he was wearing softly faded jeans that clung to his thighs, also revealing
that he had enough down there to push out a nice package in them. He had a slightly tight blue tee-shirt on, tucked into his jeans. His bright smile,
pale face, and light hair stood out against the dark shirt and bags he carried. I felt my heart stutter a beat and felt as if a sign had just lit up
over my head reading "FAGGOT". His brother was much shorter, stouter, and just as blond and cute. While he was much heavier, he was
still not fat, and looked to be headed toward heartbreaker status himself. His eyes were even more blue, darker than Jeff's, almost intensely blue.
His lips were thinner, but still ruby red and framed a wide smile around his white teeth. Their mom was pretty. Blonde, tall, slightly broad,
she was a Nordic poster child. Large breasts stood out despite her loose blouse that attempted to hide them. She wore her hair down, straight, without
adornment, and she seemingly wore no, or very little, makeup. "HI!" Jeff chirped, beaming. I returned the greeting just as
enthusiastically and added, "Hi, come in, this is my parents, Bill and Linda. Mom, dad, this is Mrs. Brooks, Jeff's mom. And Todd's too!" "Hi,
call me Laura, please," she said, stepping into the doorway behind Jeff, who with his brother, scooted near the stairs with me. She talked
briefly with mom and dad about how nice it was that her son had made a friend, and how careful parents had to be these days about whom their children
associated with. She said she hoped Todd wouldn't be a problem, coming to stay overnight and not even knowing me and all. She complimented the house
and decorations, mom's pantsuit, and dad's tie before dismissing us boys with a wave. She was a powerful presence! I didn't recognize that fact at the
time, only feeling that she was in charge, somehow, for some reason. We filed into the den where we sat on the long couch in front of the
television. My mom had explained what to do when they arrived, and I understood why: The adults wanted a bit of time to say hi and get to know each
other alone. It was left to me to entertain the guys with a movie after introducing them all. Mom and dad had just bought a new VHS deck,
one that you didn't have to slam the tray down to keep closed. It loaded in front, and when you hit the eject button, the tape came out smoothly ab
out an inch or so, making it easy to grab. It also had a digital clock and timer, and lo and behold, a remote control! The wire was even long enough
to reach the couch! What would they come up with next? This one was smaller than a suitcase! Smokey and The Bandit had finally come out on
VHS, and all of us had a great time watching it. None of us had seen it at the movies, and watching a movie at home without commercials was still a
somewhat new sensation. Eric had to show off in front of the new guys and say how much better picture and sound Beta-Max had, and how on his system at
home he could shake the room. I noticed that Jeff and Todd didn't seem all that impressed. I sat in the middle of the couch, Tom to my
right, Jeff to my left. Eric and Todd were in the large recliner of dad's, and Jon was in mom's slightly smaller one. I spent quite a bit of time
watching Jeff, of course. The more I saw of him, the more I liked what I saw. There were no flaws to him that I had found yet. His faded
jeans fit his thighs and his package like a glove, and his short-sleeved shirt let his shape echo through it. His nearness fired my every sense. His
blond hair begged my fingers to weave through it. His laugh was soft, quiet, and amusing in itself; hearing it made me want to laugh just for hearing
it more. His ruby red lips begged mine to kiss them. My arms yearned to wrap around him and hold him tightly to me. I noticed he wore cologne,
but I didn't recognize it. I liked it a great deal; it wasn't musky, like most stuff, which I hated. It was spicy, light, almost sweet. I
wanted to stop time, like with that watch in that Disney movie that had been on television a week ago. I wished for that stopwatch so that I could sit
on Jeff's lap as I stared into his face, or rested my chin on his shoulder and inhaled his smell for as long as I wished. My mind wouldn't stop
thinking those kinds of things throughout the movie. I had gotten hard several times, once so hard that it had almost hurt. I had never felt such
powerful desires and emotions before. The sexual experiences over the previous year had woken new and strange and powerful things in me, but what Jeff
was doing to me was wholly beyond that. After half an hour, Jeff and I agreed to go see how things were going with the old ones in the kitchen.
We broke away from the pack and I knocked on the doorframe as we entered the kitchen. "Hi, just wanted t' see how things are going?" I
hinted. "Hi, son. Jeff. We were just getting to know each other. You know, Laura rides the same bus as your mom?" dad said. "Really?"
we both asked, surprised. "Yes, we thought we looked familiar to each other at the door. When she said she works downtown, we laughed and
realized we saw each other a lot on the same bus to the downtown transfer station." his mom added. "So is everything okay?" Jeff
asked, obviously dying to hear the good word. "Oh, yes, don't worry, you and your brother can stay," she said, smiling. "Cool!"
we said in unison. "Go back and watch the movie. Dinner is about ready," mom said. "We'll let you know when." We ran
back to share the good news with the other guys. The cheers were probably heard in the kitchen. The sleepover was a hit. By midnight we had
become a close group of friends. I had coined the title, The Circle, and it was unanimously supported in the first ever vote of the group. The secret
Circle handshake was created, modified and accepted. The swear, "Friends. Like now, like always" was accepted as our official slogan.
The third vote was to raid the kitchen. That idea, too, was unanimously passed, a plan was quickly drawn up, then flawlessly carried out. We took
turns playing the new Coleco once the spoils of the raid were eaten. When not playing that, we would mess with my models, books, or play a few hands
of poker or blackjack. Jeff had to call home at ten o'clock, as per his mom's rule. He used the phone in my room and we turned down the
radio and kept fairly quiet. He said he and Todd were fine, having fun, and nothing was wrong. He said he would call tomorrow morning at ten. She
asked to talk to Todd, who said the same things. Todd was obviously just told that he was loved, as he blushed deeply, mumbled something we couldn't
hear, then hung up quickly. He glanced around at us quickly, like an intelligent cow that had just been led into a slaughter house, obviously knowing
what was coming. The teasing was fairly moderate, and Todd took it well, even handing back a few hot lines of his own. From time to time,
I would sneak down to the garage with one or two of the guys who weren't busy and smoke a bowl with them. Jeff and Todd never noticed or suspected, as
we usually returned with drinks, snacks, or something else. The lives of every one of us there that night had already changed, when long after
my parents had said goodnight, and the Great Raid carried out, and The Circle formalized, Jon produced the evenings late entertainment. The brand new
Playboy elicited ooohs and ahhhs from all present. We looked at the images, and even took turns reading the stories out loud to each other. Todd,
the youngest, was awed to near silence at first. Jeff was smiling widely and blushing the darkest of all of us. Eric, who was barely twelve, was at
the end of the bed giggling uncontrollably. Tom and I were pointing and making comments the most often, while Jon often bragged of having 'done it
that way' or something similar. We looked through the magazine over and over, or played ColecoVision until we began to fall asleep one by one.
Todd fought as long as he could, after becoming the most voracious viewer of the Playboy, and fell asleep sitting against the foot of the bed waiting
for his turn on Coleco. Jeff passed out shortly after Todd, stretching out on his side on his sleeping bag watching Tom and I play. Tom lasted until
almost two o'clock before he fell asleep during Jon's turn against me. Jon and I outlasted Eric. We talked about more 'grown up things' for a while
before he trundled into the guest room. I took a long look at Jeff as he slept on the floor. He was cute even as he slept. I wanted to
smell him again. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to see if his hair was as soft as it looked. I wanted to see if his face was a smooth as it looked. I
wanted to touch more. He was asleep on his side, his legs just slightly bent, his flanks and his crotch so tempting. There was no doubt the desire to
do so was there, but the idea and the desire itself seemed unworthy of Jeff. Instead, I only masturbated alone in the bathroom, and then dreamt
of him yet again.
Wednesday: Close Calls
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