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tutoring jerry

Chapter Six Jerry, And The Air That I Breathe

I guess I'll start at the beginning. When Danny walked into Mr. Janke's classroom, I didn't understand it, but some kinda 'sensation' went through me. Now, I'm not the hopeless romantic, or poet that Danny is, so I'm not nearly as good at describing my feelings as he is. When we shook hands, he wouldn't even look at me, but I felt something-- energy, vibes, whatever you wanna call it, it was almost tangible-- and definitely unexpected.

Well, actually, I should start by telling how I think, and how I felt at that time. Before that first day in the classroom with Danny, I had only thought about... kinda unspecific sexual things with guys, and only a few times. Unspecific, meaning I hadn't gotten into any big time fantasies or thought out what I would like to do with a guy. About two months before I met Danny, there was this guy on the swim team, Dave Hansard, who gave me this 'look', and got me thinkin' more about it. He wasn't the first guy to send me signals either, but he was really hot looking, for a guy, so I was thinkin' maybe sometime, something might happen there-- But I wouldn't try anything unless he came on real upfront about it.

I was a pussy hound, and had been since my 'first time' at fourteen, back in Ohio, with my first love, Elana Stankasky, Fantasky as I called her. She was seventeen, and wise beyond her years. I can't tell you about me, without telling you about her, cuz she taught me about love and how to really make love. She knew what she was doing and what she wanted from me. She taught me how to be what she saw in me-- backleading as it were.

She taught me how to be sensual and loving-- and the technique to do it. She nurtured the dominant aspect of my personality, cuz that's what she needed from me. She brought all that out in me. I know that it was already all there in degrees, but can only guess how long I would have fumbled through life, discovering it bit by bit, if I hadn't met her.

I still think about her... often. I'm so grateful to her. I mean, I loved her, but it was too easy to let go when we moved away; so I don't think of what we had as true LOVE, as powerful as it was, and as devoted as I was to her.

When I got to Texas, I didn't really even look at girls for a long time-- well it seemed like a long time, actually only two or three months. I convinced myself I should be missing Elana more than I was; but gradually realized that I looked at her as my teacher-- strange as that sounds. Anyway, I devoted myself to sports and working out and shit like that. I think, during that period was when I had my first thoughts about guys. I couldn't tell you what they were, or what triggered them. I only know they weren't all that hot and heavy... just there. Curiosity.

I started excelling in basketball and swimming. And pretty soon the girls started, well, throwing themselves at me. I'm really not an egomaniac. They just did. The thing is, I AM a serious horndog, I just can't seem to get enough sex. Girls talk. Word got around among them how big and good I was in bed-- I'm blushing, telling you this-- anyway, it's pretty much all I think about, so the steady supply suited me just fine. But there was a major component missing. I kept looking for it in every girl I dated, going through them at a pretty good clip. It just wasn't there. They couldn't come close to Elana. I latched onto Brenda Stilleno, cuz she came closest to making me feel SOME of what I knew was possible.

Then Danny Dresden walked into my life. Daniel Benjamin Dresden. DBD. Danny.

Honestly, when we shook hands, I felt this surge, this connection, but I didn't associate that type of thing with a guy, so I didn't recognize or understand it. My dick, however, did recognize it. Danny was just too precious!--that's one of those southern things I picked up from Brenda-- she said that about him once. I mean, he just couldn't maintain around me, he was so infatuated, and it was so obvious that he wanted me in the worst way. And Brenda spotted it too. She didn't 'say it', but in so many words she did-- like "Little Danny just worships the ground you walk on." and "Danny can't take his eyes off you." and things like that.

Well, I hate to admit it, but I was basically being a sexual predator at that point with him. I wasn't concerned at all about his feeligs-- but hey, I did admit it to him 'that day'. I saw the opportunity to experiment and feed my ego in one cute little package. I mean, I can admit that I feel insecure, even with my status at school and all the good stuff in my life, I'm still a little insecure, worried that I'm liked by people. I don't really have a 'best friend'-- I mean, I have friends I hang out with, but no one I can 'talk' to.

So I had a girl AND a guy in love with me! There isn't a teenager alive who wouldn't feel their ego swell a little at that-- even if they were disgusted by a guy wanting them; which I obviously wasn't. Cuz the most powerful ego booster there is, is knowing you are desirable, to anyone.

I started teasing him the first day. Trying to make it so we had as much body contact as I could without being too obvious, and standing up stretching, with my crotch right in front of his face, that kinda thing. He was so fucking cute! All shy and self conscious, and so horny he couldn't hardly contain himself, getting woodies right there and trying to hide them. And he was so... delicate, without being the least bit feminine. Does that make sense? And he just put himself out there for me like some kinda flashing neon sign, not even aware of how obvious he was.

I really liked him as a person from the start. He's so giving, and full of love. I realized that any sexual thoughts I entertained with a guy, would definitely turn me on more if I could do them with Danny.

So my mom having to go see my sister was perfect timing, and I got him over to my house. Oh yeah, I had teased him, but when we got to my house, I really poured it on. After teasing him unmercifully, I had him so worked up I knew I could pretty much have my way with him, like make him suck my dick, and most likely work it so he'd let me fuck him in his rock solid little bubble butt-- I was really surprized at how much the thought of fucking this boy in the ass turned me on. So I got us into the shower to make my move...

Not so fast, you silly boy.

Ya know how we're not always aware of what other people really feel, and how we don't bother to stop and think of how they see things? It's like, I thought I had been pretty obvious with signals and hints that I wanted to get it on. But I understand now, that if you've never used those methods, and you're scared, you wouldn't catch on.

Man, I wasn't EVEN prepared for what happened in that shower. When he started cryin' and talkin' about his feelings for me... it just felt like this fucking physical kick in the gut-- but in my whole body. It just ripped my heart into little pieces. I wasn't looking for anything like that. I wasn't looking for emotion-- I was looking for sex. But there I was, feeling emotions for a boy.

And when we got upstairs and he started kissing me... I hadn't even thought of doin' anything like that-- well, I don't know if he started it or I started it, but I really didn't think I could get into kissing a boy. But I did. And when he came the instant he touched my dick, it was so fuckin' erotic, that he was so overcome by just touching me, I just fuckin' exploded.

Then he gave me the famous 'tongue bath'. When someone licks you all over, they've GOT to be in love with you. He blew me away. He told me he was a virgin-- and I believe him-- so I guess he just naturally has a talent for blowing my mind. And I amazed myself when I got so into sucking his dick. I don't think I really told him at the time how good it felt, how easy it was for me to do, how much I actually enjoyed sucking HIM-- especially considering I'd never even thought of doing something like that before.

Now, it sounds like all I think about is the sex we had. That's not it at all; it's just that those moments were such intense ones. And if you pay attention to it, having sex and making love to someone, will tell you more about them than days of conversation will. Elana taught me that. If someone's really getting into it, it's really hard to hide their true feelings.

Anyway, like I told him, it hit me down in the jacuzzi. I realized that I'd accidently found someone who was making me feel what I'd felt with Elana. Problem was, it was a boy. That wasn't supposed to be possible. I was so fuckin' scared. I think I hid it pretty well from Danny most of the time, but I was fuckin' scared shitless!

I don't know ALL the consequences of something like this, but just the ones I can think of are pretty fuckin' major. Not the least of which was: I had suddenly become one of 'that type' everybody jokes about. The kind any number of high school boys would 'get with', in the right circumstances, and help beat to a pulp in any other. I had seen Anita Bryant on tv, and gays were demanding rights-- and getting beat up left and right.

Well, there aint no 'groups' demanding rights out here in suburbia. Hell, twenty miles from here, over in Pasadena, they still have the KKK bookstore over on Red Bluff Road! Can you believe that, here it is 1977, and they still have something like that in the suburbs of the fourth largest city in the country!?

I handled it like this: In my confusion, I just put myself into 'horndog' mode-- I'm not proud of that, it's just the way I coped at that time. I told myself to just enjoy the whole thing, the sex, the love, all of it, for the moment, and deal with the rest later.

Then we made love. . .

I just didn't know. I just didn't know ANYTHING IN THIS EXISTENCE COulD IMPACT A HUMAN BEING liKE THAT.

See, it wasn't just the fact that his ass felt better to me than anything else has ever felt--I won't even START on how incredible that was/is -- it was HIM, his total giving of himself to me, his NEED for me, his hunger, his pure and unbridled love-- that triggered all the same things in me. And all of his need and love just poured into me in some kind of mystical-- yeah I can use words like that too-- flow between us. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. It never felt that powerful with Elana, not even close. He took me to new, almost scary heights.

I could talk for hours on end about making love to Danny that first time-- if I was as poetic and beautiful as he is. The way he just consumed me, my need for him. It sounds like such a cliche to say how we became one, how we discovered more emotion and pleasure than we ever thought a human being could possibly feel, how it changed our lives forever. Loving Danny became my entire world and my existence that night.

I KNOW, life doesn't hand you THIS very often, and to many, it never does. I had always heard you can't choose who you fall in love with-- and how could you possibly want someone different than who you fall in love with anyway?

Now, it seems, I have to Deal with this complete and terrifying change in me. See, this is where the heart of my problem lies: It's just what I know about my personality. When I was with Elana, NOTHING ELSE in the world mattered. I would tell everyone in the world to go fuck themselves if they tried in any way to seperate us or come between us. I would do ANYTHING for her. I could be called obsessive, possessive, whatever, all I know is, nothing else mattered. Suddenly, it's a boy I'm feeling that way about, and much stronger than I ever felt about Elana-- in just one night.

What I'm saying is, I know me well enough to know that I value this love and emotion MORE than my life. That said, it hit me this morning. It hit me that I KNOW I will reject, fight, destroy, anything or anybody who tries to come between me and my love. With a girl, there wouldn't be much, if anything, that would be all that challenging. With a guy, the entire fucking world is gonna challenge us. Default. Automatic. Reflex. I never thought about any of that before, it's just something you know, about peoples' attitudes. Like my parents, liberal as the day is long, but I've heard them make snide comments about 'queers' a few times, and then turn around and say they should have rights.

Danny is riding high. Happier than he's ever been in his life. I don't know if he understands what this means. I don't know much about his life yet. I know he can understand my fear, cuz I've seen the same fear in him. See, there's the thing, I'm too defiant, and knowing that I CAN'T HIDE my love, automatically tells me I'm in for some battles. We're in for some battles. When I was with Elana, I couldn't keep my hands off her in public. I HAD to be holding her hand, kissing her, arm around her or something--I mean, it was a NEED. I know I can't do that with Danny.

This will change EVERYTHING in my life. I'm getting more and more scared. He's my anchor-- from up in the clouds. He's the only one who can help me work this out. I'm in total panic right now. It's slamming me in waves. I don't know what to do. He's so much stronger than me. Heh heh, I need him to 'tutor me'. Sorry, that was really lame. Man, this is building up by the minute inside me. You ever get a headrush when you stand up too fast? That's what this is feeling like, a headrush-bodyrush that builds instead of waning.

Picture by picture, different aspects of how my life will change keep taking over my vision. I don't know anyone who I can say for certain would 'accept' me being gay. I don't know if 'I' can accept me being gay. Is that what I am now?

There's another thing. Like I said, I've been a pussy hound for so long, but will I have any desire for it now? No, for one absolute reason: I'm in love with Danny, and I don't need anything else. Answered that question. I wish the rest of these questions and fears had easy answers like that. I'm getting nauseous. I have one Jerry on cloud nine with Danny, freakin' out on how awesome he feels, and the other Jerry down in Hell, freakin' out on how scared he is. I don't fuckin' know what to do...

Jerry is so strong! He's facing such an enormous, overnight, upheaval in his life and yet he tries so hard to make everything seem ok-- for me. When I struggled with this, it was a long process; denial then grudging acceptance, then denial, etc... but he's getting a total change and forced acceptance all at once. At least now, he'll talk about it with me. It took all morning, but he's been opening up. I'm seeing a lot of fear and pain coming through. He makes me tingle when he talks to me about his feelings. But then, he makes me tingle all the time.

I found my purpose in life last night when he made love to me: I will spend the rest of my life loving Jerry. Jerry Lawrence Loring. His name rolls off my tongue in the sweetest sylables, making Swiss chocolate and and cookie dough ice cream seem bitter in comparison. Can I describe how vast my love for Jerry Loring is? Like the poets say, mere words cannot encompass it. Picture him as the most breathtakingly beautiful thing you've ever seen, the song that moved you to tears, the music that made you dance when you thought you weren't even in the mood. It's like the first time you achieved something important, the first time you became aware of love, the first time you created something beautiful, the tingle that coursed through you when you did something that brought someone else joy... roll all those feelings into one bundle of emotion and exponentiate it to the Nth degree. You'll get a hint, a glimpse, of what I've felt every second since that heartbeat.

So how can I help him deal with all this? I need help. I don't know what to do. I'm just a boy who dreams. It's hitting him hard right now. I just can't bear to see him hurting. I can't handle it. I would attack like a screaming banshee and literally rip out the heart of anyone who tried to hurt him-- but I'd have to rip out my own heart right here and now. It's excruciating agony for me to know that my loving him is what hurts my love so deeply right now.


Here comes the rain again, welling up in me as I run my fingers through his hair, kissing his forehead as he sobs into my neck.

"I can't take this Danny... it's like I'm two different people fighting over me. I can't control what's happening to me. God I can't believe I'm crying like such a fuckin' baby!" he bobbed his head into my neck, his tears running down my chest.

"Oh Jerry, please don't cry-- No! Do cry--to me--it's ok, I love you so much..." I blubbered, trying to keep some semblance of control over myself. I chanted softly, "Please don't hurt, please don't hurt..." rocking him softly as I kissed his wavy brown hair. Even hurting as I was, stopped up and sniffling, the smell of his hair fired my senses and swelled my heart-- and my groin.

I was demanding of God to give me the answers, to show me how to ease my love's pain. I had read different things, and thought of God as All That Is, rather than the God of the Bible. I believed that the answers are there if you let them reveal themselves. So what was I doing wrong? Why couldn't I see any way to make him feel better? I could only share what I knew as reality up to then, hoping he could know that I felt it too, that I had been through what he was going through-- and still dealt with it every day.

"I think I know what you're feeling, Jerry... It's like... even in my happiest moments, like last night, I'm always... unsure..." I was barely audible, sniffling, searching for the words, "because, like... I Know... I know the rest of the world doesn't want people like me to be happy. And that's such a sad thing." I cried and angled down to kiss him under his eye, tasting on my lips the sweet n salty swirl of love and fear in his tears. "I'm so afraid `they' will take it all away in the next heartbeat... and that fear's always there." I sobbed, "I can't make myself forget it... and I just don't know how to make you forget it either........ I'm so sorry......."

Now I know what they mean when they say love hurts. It hurt me incredibly to know my love wasn't big enough to overcome his fear. We held each other.

We drifted off to sleep with wet cheeks touching. I awoke late in the afternoon to find we had moved, and I twisted my head to look at him. He was breathing softly, evenly. His left arm was slung across my chest, with my arm aching from being pushed up on top of his. We were laying spoon style, but my shoulder was pulled back into him. His heavy muscle snuggled happily into my warm crevice. It was expanding, and inching its way in between my thighs.

Maybe that's what woke me. I don't know. All the sadness hadn't come back to me yet, because his pain wasn't evident on his face in sleep. I gazed from an angle at his eyes, nose and mouth. The sunlight played joy for me across his beautiful face. Being in his arms made me feel so complete. I would thank my consciousness later for this time, for letting me wallow in the love I shared with him, without letting all the other emotions flood in and fuck with it.

Curiously, I felt my resolve expanding in tandem with my cock. I felt my 'self' growing stronger. How do you describe that? I don't think it can be described. I CAN describe how my cock grew rigid and my assring clenched. How just remembering last night took my breath away. My ass was so sore from last night, I tried to imagine how it would feel going in right now. The spasms of anticipation hurt more than the reminders, as I felt his member twitch and grow, knocking at the door, wanting in.

Every last muscle in my body strained to keep me from churning my ass back into him, from waking him up to what his growing cock was doing to me. I could be patient. I could wait until he woke up on his own. I wanted him to get his sleep, though I wasn't sure what time we fell asleep, or what time it was at this moment. I could lie here quietly...waiting... I hope my asshole clenching and cheeks flexing on his tool doesn't wake him up. I hope my hunching ever so lightly back into him doesn't wake him up. I hope my heavy breathing and pounding heart don't wake him up. I hope my hunching HARD back into him doesn't wake him up. I hope my hand going back onto his asscheek and digging in and pulling him urgently into me DOESN'T WAKE HIM UP!!!

"MMMmm baby..." His hand clutched at my ribs as he hugged me into him, kissing my neck and shoulder. He wandered his hand down to my raw, pulsing cock and manipulated it with a gentle touch. Then he brought it back up and gripped the base of my neck, smearing my boyjuice on my collarbone with his thumb. He leaned in and lapped it up like ambrosia with his tongue, breathing heavily on my neck and chest, making me shiver.

He grasped me into his body, his arm pressing down across my chest, digging his elbow into my stomach, while he pushed his manhood between my inner thighs, scorching them with precum. My left leg spread up of its own accord to give him ease of access. The second the head touched my scrotum I clamped my thighs together like a bear trap, feeling the thickness of him pretending to be inside me.

"Oh Jerry! Oh God," I croaked. "Plee-e-ease!" I pleaded like a kid in a candy store, as I rocked back and forth on it, like squeezing an arm between my skinny legs. The precum was flowing, letting his his now raging shaft glide fluidly, massaging my perineum, catching at my hole as he started back into my vise grip, making it pivot, just like he did last night. He already knows that drives me out of my fucking mind!

His teasing and tempting are exquisite agony for me as I beg him for it, trying to make it go in when it catches at my hole. I know he likes to feel and hear me beg for it, and I DO, digging at his hip, straining against him, begging like some kinda slut for him to fuck me.

When he finally reaches back to fumble for the lube, I sneak that opportunity to reach back and sieze the root of my need, embedding the size and texture of it into my hand and mind, anticipating the fullness, the completeness that is to come. I shudder violently and aim it at my opening-- without waiting for him to get the lube to it-- and try to moan back onto it.

But Jerry raises up and positions himself between my legs, smearing lube on his erection and placing my ankles on his shoulders. He pushes against my entrance and looks into my eyes,

"Danny Danny Danny," he sighs.

His finger traces my jaw, then searches for my lips. I capture the tip and suck it in, tasting my juice on it. Then he cranes his neck down and kisses me while he pushes firmly and steadily against my protesting muscles. I let out a cry when he breaches the barrier. He captures my cry with his sensuous lips, kissing it into ecstasy.

My body remembers that it hurt even more than this at first last night. My body remembers that it ended up craving more, even after the third round-- when I came without even being hard, and after the fourth round, thinking it couldn't get any more mind blowing or intense. My body remembers and opens up with instinctive hunger, acknowledging my need over cries for mercy from my muscles and tissues.

"OH--GODDAMN! Oh Fuck!" He yells like it's the first time, "Ohh, ohh Danny..." as he glides into me in one slow steady drive and bottoms out, instantly taking me to that place...

I look up into his eyes and see the love pouring down into mine, and feel my love flowing up into him on the same electric passage. I am crying out with the initial pain of the loving, grasping his strong back, feeling his skin, aware of his whole body surrounding mine and wanting to place my hands one after the other over every single surface to claim the love, to know it's mine-- even though I already know it's mine... I know.

I feel his huge pole boring its way in and out of me, stretching all those sore, aching muscles yet again, feeling like it's burrowing all the way into my stomach. It hurts so much and so good 'cause the pain turns into pleasure as I feel the rim of the head and the viens and little lumps, all pushing and pulling and stretching the tissue and muscles, ravaging them mercilessly, loving them intensely.

I am in that place, and I look up into his ecstacy and know I will give him all of me. I could never refuse, I could never hold back. I am his. I open up my body and pray I am enough for him. I squeeze my muscles on his shaft and cry out loudly at the intensity of the sensations, going deeper inside me than my body can understand, every single thrust is seared in to my body's memory for all time.

I was made to be his, made to receive him, made to be loved by him. I ride up onto him, urging him into me harder and faster.

He puts his hands under my back and raises me up with him as he sits up, and back on his heels. He grabs my hips with his strong hands and tosses me up and down on his pole like a toy, thrusting up into me from below. He kisses around, breathing hard on my chest, moaning little ecstasies into me.

I find my feet and start riding him fiercely, clawing at his back for leverage to slam myself down on his loins harder and harder. I slam down onto him and grind my ass in, trancing into his eyes. He lets go of me and sits in witness to my fever, watching me grind myself into him and raise up to the tip of his shaft and SLAM myself back down on him, grinding it in and I find his lips while I grind and suck his tongue into my mouth, and grind myself in, feeling him so far up inside me I can't bear it and I can't get enough of it, and I raise up and slam myself back down and scream as I grind myself in again, and he's just whimpering and grunting and trying to kiss me and saying my name over and over.

I put one hand on his shoulder and one hand on his back, digging my heels into the bed, and use every muscle in my body to jam up and down as fast and hard as I can and it's not fast and hard enough, and I grind into him and kiss him and go at it again, and I'm yelling at him to give me more, fuck me Jerry, Love Me Love Me! And I keep riding and slamming and riding and slamming into him, impacting him so he has to steady himself, and he's calling my name and he can't breathe and he's gasping, jaw open wide, with no sound coming out and I feel his cock expand even bigger and harder inside me, and I grind down into him, staying so I can feel it when it happens.

I feel his cum explode inside me with a force and heat that sears my entrails and throws me into his eyes. I fly up and down again and again on his pulsing shaft, slamming myself down on him and spray his chest and his shoulders and his chin, neck and ear with my love and I collapse on him and he collapses back on the bed, taking me with him and we lie in a heaving, panting pile, gasping and kissing and trying to say how much we love each other and how amazing that was and this is and knowing we don't even have to say anything because it's all just too beautiful.

We made love for hours, fucking and sucking and loving and caressing and kissing. He told me how much he loves me, and I told him how much I love him, how he is my everything. We made all the pain and fear stay outside peering in the windows that evening-- and the outside world was only a fading dream. I know the phone rang a time or two, but we never considered answering it. I did call home and left a message on the answering machine, saying I would stay tonight too. We had no need for food or drink or anything else.

"Peace came upon me and it leaves me weak..." the Hollies put it...

"If I could make a wish, I think I'd pass. Can't think of anything I need. No cigarettes, no sleep, no lights, no sound... nothing to eat, no books to read. Making love with you, has left me peaceful, worn and tired. What more could I ask, there's nothing left-- to be desired. Sometimes, All I need is the air that I breathe and to love you, all I need is the air that I breathe and to love you, all I need is the air that I breeeathe...."

"Jerry! Where the goddamn hell have you been all night?! I had to rent a car and drive myself home! I don't care if it's Saturday night, you shouldn't be out til three in the-----"

Her hand stayed on the lightswitch and her mouth stayed open, with 'morning' stuck somewhere in limbo, as she took in the sight from her angle, looking at the foot of the bed: Jerry and I, uncovered, asleep on our sides, his left leg up over my hip, with his vaseline and cum slicked pee-hardon either still embedded in my ass, or out but still at the entrance-- you'd think I'd remember if it was in, but I don't. And, naturally, her eyes would zero in on that first-- anyone's would.

Janet Loring stood motionless, in shock, speechless, unblinking.

We both raised our heads at the same moment, blinking at the sudden bright overhead light, not comprehending what was happening. That lasted about two seconds.

She watched as Jerry sprang to his feet like a cat, in the middle of the bed in blind panic, standing in his full naked glory, semi hard dick a swingin', darting his head from side to side, either looking for an escape route, or something to cover us up with, as his hands reached for things that weren't there.

I couldn't move a muscle, watching her watching Jerry, stunned and just as frozen in place as she was. The only movement in her body, was her eyes darting continuously between Jerry and me and Jerry's dick-- I swear to God.

Jerry was yelling something at her, but everything except Jerry, was frozen for me and Mrs. Loring. I couldn't tell you what he was yelling and babbling about as he jumped down on the end of the bed and frantically pulled the covers up from the floor and over us.

At some point, after maybe ten eternal seconds, I watched her regain time at the same moment I did, and respond to Jerry shouting at her as he sat down, covering us both up. She and I were still frozen in place, but now we could hear and process what was going on. Her hand was still on the lightswitch.

"Get outta here, mom! Why didn't you call?! You weren't s'posed t' be back til Thursday! Why didn't you knock?! Mom, I..." he was beet red, hyper-ventillating, and sounded like he was about to cry.

Mrs. Loring found her voice.

"I DID call! Who is THIS? WHAT THE HELL'S GOING ON HERE, Jerry Lawrence Loring!?"