Hank's Undeniable Cravings Part One - free erotic gay stories on MaleDirectory
“Now what?” Bobby shouted above the storm as we stood spread-legged over our bikes.
Drenched in the driving rain and hardly able to stand against the gusts of wind, we looked down the highway to the spot where the bridge was threatening to come apart. We needed to cross that bridge. A highway crew was already on the far side, setting up a barricade. We had sneaked past a similar barricade five miles back. I had convinced Bobby that as long as the bridge was still standing, we’d find a way to get across. But even with the bravado that comes naturally with being 18 years old, there was no way we’d tackle that battered concrete span.
When we set out early that morning for the 50-mile ride up the California coast, we knew the storm was coming in. But we were experienced long-distance riders, who had never given a thought to bad weather. We prided ourselves with being able to ride through anything nature could dish out. But this storm had hit the coast with a ferocity that was totally unexpected. And here we were, stranded less than two miles from our destination.
“We could climb,” I shouted back with a down and up motion of my arm.
I knew it was a dumb idea as soon as I said it, but I also knew that Bobby was going to give me a ton of shit about dragging him past the barricade where we could have hitched a ride back.
“You first,” was his quick retort.
“Bad idea, huh?”
“Worse than that,” he responded leaning over and giving me a hard, but playful cuff to the side of my helmet. “Right up there with you getting us stuck out here.”
* * * * *
It was the summer after our high school graduation. My best friend, Bobby, was heading off to Princeton in August. We had both been accepted at UCLA. I begged, threatened and cajoled him to join me there. However, he was determined to get as far away as he could from Sacramento. Now, he never actually came out and said that…even to me, his best bud. But I knew that behind his excitement at going to Princeton was the desperate need to escape from the most God-awful parents a kid could have: alcoholic, physically and verbally abusive and, get this, Bible-spouting fundies. It was a deadly combination to live with but somehow he’d made it. Their drunken rages drove him to sleep over so many times, my folks joked about him being “our second son”. And, that’s exactly how they treated him, which, I think, helped him a lot.
I was heart-broken by his decision to go back East to college. Yeah, ‘heart-broken’ is the right word…as in ‘I love the guy’. It was thirteen years since we first started playing with each other as little kids. We’ve always been quite the pair: he the tall, blond, All-American type…me the wiry, dark-skinned son of Vietnamese immigrants. He gave me my American name (Nhac becoming Hank) and he pulled me into his world. We shared it all: Scouts, Pop Warner football, paper routes, varsity swim team all four years (yeah, we were that good), bicycle racing. We each kissed our first girl on the same double date. He was only a month ahead of me in scoring that all-important first fuck. I can’t remember Bobby not being in my life.
When I was eleven I had my first orgasm while wrestling around with him on this mattress in the corner of his basement. My surprised, flushed face and jerking hips gave me away. Bobby got all excited. He told me that for almost 3 months he’d been ‘ejaculating’ (he had to tell me what that meant!). Anyway, for the next few months we spent a lot of time jerking off together. At first we watched each other. Then we started handling each other’s hard dicks. One night when he was sleeping over, he climbed on top of me and we humped each other until we unloaded in our briefs.
But then it suddenly stopped.
One afternoon I wrestled him to my bedroom floor and started rubbing the already rock-hard bulge in my jeans against his crotch. I felt him rubbing back and getting hard himself, but then he suddenly and roughly pushed me off.
“No!” he yelled as he jumped up.
I still remember how stunned I was by his outburst. Over the years we had gotten pissed off at each other many times, but in his voice I heard something I’d never heard before and it scared me. I looked up into his face. His expression scared me even more; it was one I’d seen only after his father had beat him. I dropped my eyes and found myself staring at his pants, at the pronounced outline of his still-erect dick.
“This is wrong,” he said, as he covered his hard-on with his hands. “I’m no faggot…and neither are you.”
Bobby then grabbed my basketball off the floor, turned and threw it hard, real hard, down at me.
“Shoot some hoops?” he asked, and before I could answer, he was out the door to the back yard. Confused and shaken, I followed him. I was the better player but that afternoon Bobby whooped my ass.
I was afraid to ask him what a ‘faggot’ was, so I later looked it up in the school library’s 2-ton dictionary, and the reality of homosexuality entered my life. For a year or so after that, Bobby was quite the vocal Bible-thumper around anything even bordering on queer. He even taunted this boy because he decided the kid was a ‘homo’. Later the kid’s older brother cornered Bobby after school and beat the shit out of him. When I came on the scene, the brother was just running off. Seeing Bobby’s bloodied face and quickly-swelling eye, I was ready to go after the brother to even the score, but Bobby stopped me.
“Thanks, Hank, but I deserved it,” he said quietly. Then he laughed as he gingerly touched his face. “For once…it’s not my dad.”
Bobby stopped putting down gays after that. I was sure his feelings hadn’t changed; he just kept them to himself.
It wasn’t until just after I turned 16 that I accepted that I was gay (brought out by the college intern our swimming coach had helping him, a story in itself I might write about someday)…and that I was in love with Bobby. Oh, I kept up a good front…having a girlfriend as foxy as Karla certainly helped. But in my heart, well… Enough to say that I kept my feelings closely guarded, afraid that if I let out any hint whatsoever, Bobby would leave me in disgust.