Back in my room, I hit the books for a while and did my homework. Bleh! Then I wrote Kyle and told him all about Muscle Teens, and how he'd inspired us to earn money doing chores around the hood. I also told him about Pop, and how the shit had hit the fan for a while with mom and Andy.
"Hey, Daniel? Can I come in?"
"Writing to Kyle again, I see. Has he said anything more about my pics."
"Yeah… he deleted them."
"Bullshit! Has he shown them to anyone else?"
"Only Steve… Wingnut and Mark would fucking freak."
"They're both straight?"
"Kinda… not completely, though. They're a bit like you, I guess."
Greg sat on the side of my bed, and rested his elbows on his knees. "Hey, bro, what exactly do you see in guys? I mean, is it like the same as Lindy does?"
"I dunno. I'm not a girl, and I can prove it." I banged the keyboard with my semi, which caused a bunch of crazy letters to appear on the screen." Anyway, not all guys interest me."
"So what do you see in the ones who do?"
"Like you? I guess it's a whole bunch of stuff. Little things, like the way you smile, the way you walk, your voice, your eyes."
"What about my eyes?"
I stopped typing, and turned to face my bro. "It's kinda like I can lose myself in them. You've got an awesome face, Greg. Fucking awesome."
"That's the kinda thing Lindy would say, 'cept she wouldn't say 'fucking'."
"Girls are different, though. I mean, you don't wrestle with girls, or race them to school on your BMX, or workout with them. You don't have the same kinda fun with girls as you do with guys."
"I still don't get it. Guys are… well, hey, they're just not sexy."
"Are you saying you're not sexy?"
"Not like a girl is."
"Cool. I prefer you the way you are."
"So if I act all macho and stuff, that turns you on?"
"Yep. But it's the same with Paul and Kyle, and the other guys… they're all macho. And me… I think I'm pretty macho, too."
"That's the thing I can't understand. How come macho guys like each other's dicks? Lemme tell you something… sometimes I look at my dick and wonder what the fuck you see in the damn thing. I'll never know how you can let me put it in your mouth. Fucking gross!"
"So why do you do it?"
"'Cause it feels fucking excellent," he laughed. "Which reminds me…"
"You'd like a blow job?"
"How'd ya guess?"
"I'm kinda busy right now."
"Never too busy to gimme a blow job, though."
"What makes you so sure?"
"'Cause you love it." Greg stood, dropped his shorts down his muscular, brown legs, and waved his boner in my face. I tried to ignore him, and kept typing, but it wasn't fucking easy! After a few moments, he continued. "Hey, bro, imagine this hard piece of boy meat gliding between your lips. You'd like that, right?"
I took my eyes off the screen, and studied his magnificent throbber for a little while. Fuck, it was gorgeous! And there was a tempting pearl of pre-cum oozing from its smooth, bulbous knob. "Seen one, seen 'em all," I shrugged.
"Don't gimme that crap, Daniel. I know you! You're just trying to tease me. Now, open up, and lemme slide my cock into your wet and warm mouth."
"A minute ago, you said it was fucking gross."
"Not for you, it's not. You love it. You've told me a million times already." He reached down, and cupped his perfect balls in his hand. "See these? They're full of my tasty juice, man, and you can have it all. Mmmm, imagine it sliding down your throat, Daniel."
"OK, here's the deal. You blow me first, then I'll blow you."
"What the fuck is this?"
"Maybe you're right. Maybe it is fucking gross."
"OK, bro… enough's enough. Suck my cock."
"Is that an order?"
"Yep. You like it when I'm macho, remember?"
"I'm macho, too, remember? And I don't like being pushed around. Go back to your room and jack off."
"What the fuck's gotten into you?" He turned around and pointed his delicious, bronze ass at my face. The temptation to run my hands over those two, smooth globes, and zap my tongue up his pinky, was totally overwhelming, but I resisted. I had a point to prove. At least, I thought I had a point to prove.
When I hadn't reacted after some seconds, Greg turned around, and faced me again. I couldn't help focusing on his bouncing throbber, which flicked a bit of pre-cum on my cheek.
"Hey, you know something, Daniel? You're behaving like a fucking girl. For no reason, you're playing hard to get… you're playing with my mind. So I guess you've answered my question about gays. They're like girls. They don't make any fucking sense. I'm outa here."
I must've stared blankly at the screen for several minutes after Greg had left my room. What was I trying to prove? That I could resist the temptation to blow my bro? I'd wanted to blow him… no doubt about that. And it took all my willpower to resist tonguing his cute ass. But why did I resist? Because he was ordering me to blow him? Was I just being stubborn 'cause…? Hell, I didn't know. But Pop probably would.
I was just about to rest my weary bones when I received your email. Seems to me that you felt as though you were being taken for granted, and you were being used by Greg as a sex object for his own selfish gratification. Nobody likes to be used, and I can understand your reluctance to allow Greg to have his way.
I also think that what prompted your behaviour was Greg's inability to identify with your sexuality, yet, at the same time, he was willing to take advantage of it for his own pleasure.
As for acting like a girl, that was a pretty sexist accusation on his part. You were acting like a human being, quite a normal human being, but, because he couldn't understand your motives, he categorized your behavior according to his own prejudices.
What Greg has to understand is that being in the majority, ie straight, doesn't give him the right to question your sexual preference. Do you question his sexual preference? My guess is that he would be very surprised if you did. Straights view their sexuality as being perfectly normal, and above being scrutinized or questioned. Only those who deviate from the norm should be the subject of scrutiny or curiosity.
However, there's a lot more to this 'game' than who's right and who's wrong. In any relationship between two people, there should be two winners. If it's not too late, why not go to Greg's room and sort out the prob before it festers and gets outa hand? Most probs can he solved with a bit of common sense and cooperation… plus a generous dose of honesty. Lemme know how you go. I'll put matches under my eyelids and stay awake for a while.
"Greg? Can I come in?"
I ignored his remark, and opened the door, anyway. "You wanna talk?"
My bro was laying on his side on his bed, wearing his boxers, and reading some mag. "Looks like you've made up your mind," he mumbled before turning a page.
The mattress sagged as I planted my buns on the side. "What are you reading?" I checked the mag. Whoa! "Playgirl?"
"It's got chicks in it as well."
"As well as what? Does Andy know you've got this mag?"
"Hey, about before… I'm sorry I kinda lost the plot. Have you jacked off yet?"
I spent the next couple of minutes telling Greg roughly what Pop had said in his email, despite the fact that Greg seemed to be ignoring me while he continued to casually flick through the mag.
"He missed the point," he said, eventually, then studied my eyes. "Well, one point. It's always me who goes into your room. You never come into my room… 'cept for now. So it's like I'm always the one who's doing the fucking asking. It puts me on the back foot. It's like I've gotta figure ways to get you to blow me."
"'Cause you figure maybe I don’t wanna?"
"It's not like I'm the only dick in town, bro. Anyway, you proved that tonight."
"That mine's nothing special."
"You wanna gimme another look? Maybe I made a mistake."
"Don't fuck with my brain, Daniel."
"I'm serious. Gimme another look."
Greg tossed the mag onto the floor, then stood in front of me for a moment before inserting his thumbs into the waistband and dropping his boxers to the floor. "I don’t have a boner 'cause I'm not in the mood."
"I never knew your dick had so many wrinkles."
"Are you fucking with me?"
"No." I spent some time examining his cute flacid cock, with it's cut head, dark bronze color, neat patch of shiny black pubes, and wicked hangers. Then I leaned forward and took a deep sniff of his spicy boy scent.
"Daniel, what the fuck are you doing? Did Pop tell you to do this?"
"Nope. He just told me to be honest, and I'm being honest. You smell fucking wicked."
"OK, be honest, then. You're looking at my cock. It's a cock. That's it. A regular cock. Tell me it's not just a cock."
"It's not just a cock. It's fucking awesome. The shape, the color… and it's yours, Greg. Yours. That's what really matters." I placed my fingers under the shaft and lifted his limp meat until I was staring directly at his pisshole. "And it's the fucking bomb to look at the place where all the juice comes out."
"Oh? I was right, then… you really do like my juice. So why did you get all fucking tied up in knots before?"
"You weren't listening."
"You mean to what Pop said? That I was using you? OK, so I use you. Hey, man, it's totally fucking cool to offload down your throat, and to feel your tongue lashing my cockhead while my juice is exploding like crazy. I admit it. But if you didn't like it, you wouldn't be doing it. So who's using who?"
"That's what Pop said… everybody's gotta be a winner."
"And you're not?"
"Sometimes it's kinda confusing. Anyway, your cock's not confused. It's almost hard."
"So what are you gonna do about it?"
I raised my eyes to his adorable face, with its smiling, chocolate eyes, and long, black hair tumbling over his forehead, and draped over his muscular, brown shoulders. "What do you think about when you fuck my face?"
"You're asking me? Fucking hell, Daniel! What do you think about when you fuck Paul's face? Or Kyle's face?"
"Maybe you're right. Maybe I do kinda think like a girl sometimes."
"I just wanna know if it's a face you're fucking… any face… any tongue."
"OK, it's honesty time, so I'll give you an honest answer. I dunno. Why? 'Cause you and Lindy are the only two peeps who blow me. So I don't have like a whole bunch of experience. I can tell you one thing, though. You sure could give Lindy some lessons."
"You're avoiding the fucking issue, bro. Am I like some blowup doll just so you can get your rocks off?"
"You wanna check my closet and drawers?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Are you trying to get me to say that I love you or something? OK, I love you. You're my bro. Next to my dad, you're the most important person in my life. If you needed a heart transplant, I wouldn't think twice about being the donor. But you know something? When I see my cock jammed in your face, it's like I've got mixed emotions. I get off on it, sure. Big time. But it's also like, whoa! that's my bro's face I'm fucking. And I'm like, hey, what am I doing here? And it's like I said before… I'm always the one who has to go to your room, so it's like does he really wanna blow me? Am I intruding or something? Why doesn't he come to my room?"
"I'm here now."
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Diary Part 142