Drug of Choice (cont)

+

I can't help but masturbate while he's reading, just the thought of what he might or might not be feeling as he reads, turning me on all over again. What I've handed him is four stories, two homosexual, one lesbian, and one heterosexual. The questions I'll ask him will be mostly about how each story made him feel, and what his first impression and reaction to each of them was.

He's got impeccable timing, because right as I finish wiping up the little mess I've just made, he knocks on my door. For a moment, I feel this fear that somehow he knew exactly what I was just doing, but quickly dismiss it. There is no way that he knows. "Come in."

"All done," he glances around and then sits on my bed, leaning back against the pillows. I'm already seated in my desk chair, one leg under the other, and not a sign of my escapade in sight.

"All right, you read them in order?" Each story had been carefully numbered.

"Yup,"

"Ok, in number one, what was your first reaction?" The first story was graphic sex between a man and a woman, describing to a fault sexual intercourse in an erotic manner. He pauses for a long time before he responds, and again I have to remind him to not think on it too much.

"It was very, lusty." He says slowly.

"Did it arouse you?"

"Yes."

"Did you get an erection from it?"

"Yes."

"Ok, story number two, first impression please." This story was one of the homoerotic ones, containing merely a handjob and blowjob. Easing him into the idea of sex between two men.

"Very... umm, erotic," he mumbles his answer, his eyes lowering slightly, refusing to meet my own. Interesting.

"Were you aroused?"

"Umm, yes."

I try to stifle my glee; "did you find it aroused you more or less than the first story?"

"Well," he trails off, looking at the wall, as if he's trying to recall exactly how the story went. "I don't really know."

"Did you-"

He interrupts me mid-sentence, "yes, I got hard."

Very good, a definite indication of a willingness to perhaps involve himself in such an activity. "Story number three?"

"It was alright," and now he's looking at me again, meeting my eyes. "And yes, though it turned me on, it didn't do what the other two did for me. I just couldn't put myself in the place of a woman."

So he was able to more fully involve himself in the first two stories, though the third, containing the lesbian erotic fiction was apparently too far away from what he viewed himself as. Which ruined my little theory about his hair, perhaps. "Ok, and the last one?"

The most important, if I were to be asked. As story number four was a very graphic description of anal intercourse, complete with tender words at the end.

"Yes, yes, and definitely yes." He answers quickly, jumping up from my bed, and walking to the door in a little rush of activity. "I uh, I have to umm, do some studying, can we finish this tomorrow?"

And before I can answer, he's out the door, the sound of his own bedroom door closing not far behind. My determination is that he is receptive to another man, and that this has made him not only aroused, but also nervous and confused. I suppose, I'll have to finish the testing either later tonight, if he comes out of his room. Or tomorrow. Either way, this test will have its little finale by Sunday night.

+

I decide to lure him out of his room at around ten, determined to continue my "studies". My plan is fairly simple, I'll pretend I'm not trying to gain his attention, and in the process hopefully his curiosity will get the better of him.

I sit down on the couch, grabbing up the remote and turning on the television. The lights are off, all of my test photos have been put away, along with a rather ragged bunch of papers which I recognized as my four little erotic stories. Fascinated to note, that the homoerotic stories have been just a tiny bit more well thumbed then the other two.

Now it's time for stage two of my trap. I've already put the tape in the VCR, and I turn up the volume a bit. Laying back and pulling a pad of paper onto my lap, fingers posed with a pencil over it. All set, now to just hit play. I smile slightly as images and titles cross the screen; funny how even porno tapes have ads for other porn on them. Suggestive viewing material for whomever might be watching the current one.

It's just as the action truly gets going that I hear a soft sound from Maxwell's room. He's sniffing the bait, metaphorically speaking of course. I turn the volume up another notch as the two boys on the screen start going at it. Thank god for the Bel Ami boys, the perfect mix of young looks on male bodies, and hot, hard sex. It's the kind of thing you want to see as opposed to American porn, which tends towards older, overly built men.

There's another little thump from the direction of Duo's room, and the sound of his door quietly creaking open. I bend my head, writing some mangled sentence about the erotic fantasy of older men lusting after young boys, or some such nonsense. It doesn't really matter, my sole purpose in doing this is so that when he comes out of that room, all he'll see is me quietly writing, and all he'll hear, is some pretty cheesy music mixed with moans. It works, and he bites the bait.

"What are you watching?" he asks, coming around the corner; t-shirt and boxer shorts, sleep attire I idly note. Sure enough, he gives a little yawn, as if to support this theory.

"Gay porn," I say nonchalantly, pausing the scene, and nodding towards it. I gesture with my pencil at it, pointing at the two guys on the screen. "Homoeroticism in modern day pornography." I mutter, hoping he'll be confused by this.

"Huh?" he sits down beside me, nudging my legs out of his way, despite the fact that he could have sat farther away and avoided them all together. "This for your paper too?"

"Yup, they'll let you get away with anything if you know how to write a paper on it." Which is true, as this paper will contest.

He nods, and I notice he's stiff, tense again. Nervous, maybe. "Heero... I hope you don't mind my asking, but... "

I already saw this question coming from the start; I don't even need to hear the rest of it. But never the less, I hold my tongue, some part of me needing him to say it before I can respond. "Are you gay?" he blurts out in a rush of words, shifting and now looking definitely nervous.

"Would it bother you if I were?" I ask; as I said, I was prepared for this question.

"I guess not, I'm just surprised you wouldn't have told me... or said something... or shown any tendencies, that... way."

There's so much of an undercurrent to that entire sentence that I can barely focus on his next words. I'm too busy trying to dig for hidden meanings. And the next thing I hear is-

"Can I watch this with you?"

Well, that's a surprise. I didn't think it'd be quite so easy. I was certain I'd have to do a lot more talking before he'd actually want to watch a gay porn tape with me. Hallelujah. "Sure." And I hit play again.

But now my eyes are all over him, again I've poised my hand with the pencil above the pad of paper in my lap. I have to keep up appearances, of course. It doesn't help that already I'm getting hard beneath my barely-there haven of the legal pad on my lap.

Duo's eyes are glued to the screen, his mouth open slightly, and if I listen, I can almost hear him panting just below the edge of the sound of the boys on the screen. He likes it, good. But tonight I'm determined to try and merely observe his reactions. No matter how much my body keeps telling me to go for it. My body after all, only knows what its frisky little hormones can tell it, my mind on the other hand, knows that though he seems receptive enough at the moment. He might not be as open to an experience tonight as I am.

So I watch, watch him ease into the idea of it more, become ensnared by it. He begins fidgeting somewhere during the next set of scenery, new guys, and new situation. I chose this porno carefully for its summer exploration theme. Hoping it would be gentle enough to nudge his thoughts right over to my line of thinking. It seems to be doing its job. His hands have clenched into fists on his thighs, his eyes wide open, though occasionally I can see them close in a long and slow movement, savoring. Or at least that's what it looks like he's doing.

And if I tilt my head just right, I can see what definitely looks like an erection poking up his shorts from beneath his t-shirt. Though, that could just be a trick of the light and shadows. Something I can confirm when he stands up. I get so completely wrapped up in watching him watch the porno that I barely notice when it ends. Realizing a few seconds too late, that I've been staring at him.

He clears his throat, glancing at the coffee table and nodding towards it. "Is that another one?"

Is he coming on to me? Or is that my imagination again? It can't be this easy, can it?

"Yes, the sequel to this one."

"They make sequels to these?"

I try not to laugh, "of course they do."

"Oh, never really thought of it before," he says with a smile, shrugging. His body posture although more relaxed, is still tense, only now it seems to be tense in a different way. He is trying to hide an erection; it's all in the way he's holding his pelvis inward.

"So, do you want to watch it?" I watch his eyes move from the tape to me, and then back again.

"Um, no. I really should get to bed, goodnight." And just like that, he's nearly bolting from the couch, walking at a fast clip towards his room once more.

Damn, I thought I'd had him.

"What?"

I didn't just say that aloud, did I? "Nothing."

"See you in the morning, Heero."

I nod at him, barely remembering to try to catch a peek at the front him before he disappears from sight.

He was hard, and I, I think I'm happy with that test.

+

It took a good two hours of masturbation before I could even think of shutting my eyes and sleeping. And now as I sit here, staring at this screen, I wonder what will happen today.

I'm not too surprised when I finally leave my bedroom for some coffee, only to discover Maxwell's not home. He's run away. I was almost half expecting it. Though I admit, I wasn't expecting the little note he left beside the coffeepot.

// If you want to do a few more tests, I'll be home around 2. I promise to give honest answers. //

Well now, doesn't that just change everything? I can't help the wide grin that spreads my lips, pulling them back from my teeth in a rictus. Let the games begin.

+

By the time I hear him come through the front door, I'm about as ready as I'll ever be. I'm showered inside and out, clothes carefully chosen for looseness as well as comfort, hair in its usual mess. I'm sitting on the couch, my legs stretch out along it, a book held loosely on my lap. Not that I've been reading it at all, instead I've been clock watching for the past few hours.

I glance up as if just realizing he's gotten home, taking in his outfit choice for the day. It takes true will power not to do something stupid, as exactly what he's wearing registers on my brain. It's tight, it's black, and it needs to have a picture of it taken, so it can be cherished years from now. After my hormones calm down enough for me to speak, I manage to ask, "ready?"

"Yeah, just give me a minute to change clothes."

Damn, oh well. I watch as he walks away, unable to pry my eyes from his rear. It's my turn to fidget now, wondering how much he's guessed, whether he minds, and what exactly he feels about the whole thing. As I stated before, Duo isn't stupid. And I know he's seen through some part of my plan.

"Ok, let's start." He's changed into something baggy, long t-shirt, and sweatpants. Right off, I can tell he expects to be aroused this time, and he expects to be able to hide it. But, my plans have changed.

"Good, tell me Duo, are you willing to let this test become more physical in its approaches?" And can I make it any more obvious what my intentions are? Probably not.

Silence, and then he nods, no words. Sitting down beside me he nudges my legs out of the way again, and leans back, turning to face me. "Ok." His eyes are slightly closed, a soft smile twisting his mouth. I'd put this expression somewhere in the seductive category. For a moment, I'm at a complete loss. I know what I want to do, but what if he's not as willing as he seems. Up until yesterday, I'd no idea if he'd ever even entertained thoughts of sex with another male. How far was he willing to let me go? Probably as far as any male in his situation would go, hands, mouth, and body touching. Which I can deal with, my problem is would I be able to make myself stop? Mind made up; I lean towards him, looking for any sign of reticence. There are no signs, though his jaw tightens slightly. "Should I close my eyes?" he whispers, blinking at me.

Should I be trembling from the proximity? "Whatever you feel comfortable doing." I respond, leaning closer still, resting my fingers against his cheek for a moment. He's flushed, heat filling him, almost like a fever. My guess he's as turned on as I am, maybe even more than I am. His eyes close, a near silent sigh escaping from between his half-parted lips. It's hard to believe that it has taken me up until this moment, to realize he wants me. That he wants me to touch him as badly as I want to. Was it my "tests" or was this craving there before?

I smile, either way, the tests haven't ended, this is merely another one. My fingers trail down his jaw, etching a light pattern over the skin of it. It's smooth, soft, and almost silky in texture. I sift my fingers through the fringe of hair behind his ear, watching as his head rolls slightly to the side, exposing his neck even more. Body language rules would state this as an invitation, and who am I to refuse?

My mouth is on him before I even think about it, natural, primal patterns taking over. I let my tongue coast over his jugular, swipe at his earlobe, nibble down until I hit his collarbone. He tastes like what I thought he would, sex, his shampoo, soap, sweat, nervousness. It's all there on my tongue. And then our mouths meet, his face having turned towards my own at some point in my taste testing. It's even better, his lips parting beneath mine, a gasp escaping, and then a soft moan.

I note his hands have moved to grip at my shoulders. Almost as if he's trying to hold me away, where as his body, or certain parts of it, are trying to lean closer. For instance, his lap is now caving outward, his chest as well, all erogenous zones looking for action, stomach caving in, head leaning back slightly. He couldn't have said it louder if he'd spoken. His body wants me, his mind is still unsure. I give him another kiss, lighter this time, just trailing my mouth across his, pulling back, and eyeing him.

His eyes are still closed, lips parted and wet. My eyes drop to his lap, taking in the nice dimensions bulging those sweatpants out. His body knows exactly what it wants.

"It's a shame you don't," and I don't realize I've said it aloud until his eyes open and he stares at me. His expression is confused and aroused all at once.

"What?"

"Want me." I blurt out, ready to slap myself as the words escape.

"But, I do."

"Your body does, but you still don't know yet, do you?"

He shakes his head a bit, meeting my eyes before his own slide away and stare at the wall. "I guess not, but... "

"But you still want to try, don't you?"

"Yeah," he smiles, looking up again, " I do."

And how can I possibly say no? I can't. I don't think anyone in my situation could. Which is why I don't even try to stop as we come crashing together again, sliding down onto the couch, my leg already in-between his. Our teeth clashing as our lips meet. His fingers for a moment push against my shoulders before sliding down and wrapping around my upper arms, pulling my body closer.

When I lean back up, his eyes are tightly shut, lips open and panting. I slide my thigh against the erection I can feel digging into it, watching his features tighten as I do. "Open your eyes Duo." And he does, staring up at me, lust and confusion in those stunning eyes. "I want you to fully realize that you're not with a girl." I run my hand down his side, gripping his hipbone for a moment. "To know, that you are with me, and that I'm," I pause, dragging one of his hands down between my legs, folding it around my own arousal. "Definitely male."

For a second, I think this is it, now's the time he realizes it all, and runs away for good. But he surprises me again, instead squeezing me through my pants, and smiling up into my face. "Like that's a bad thing?"

I have no witty reply; instead arching my body against his hand, and leaning down to run my tongue along his lower lip. His mouth opens willingly, another muted sigh escaping as I start exploring it. It's as nice and tasty as his skin is, sweet and sharp, tongue slick and soft against my own. I have to tell myself rather firmly, that I'm not allowed to have sex with him tonight, at least, not yet.

Before I know what I'm doing, I have him flat on his back, head rolling against the couch cushions and legs spread to either side of me. My mouth leaving a wet trail from jaw to belly button as I chart a course along his shaking body. His sweatpants are a memory by the time I'm poised over his erection. His skin is hot, smooth, delicious, and exactly everything I'd hoped for. I smile as I take him into my mouth, glancing up along his stretched out body and meeting his open eyes. He knows exactly what I'm about to do, but for all his knowledge, still manages to look like a complete virgin. For a second or two, I wonder if this is what all those girls he brings home get to see.

But I forget that thought almost as soon as it crosses my mind, because he's wrapping his fingers through my hair, sexy little gasps falling from his lips, soft whispers of sound. His hips struggle to stay still, and then begin nudging upward, becoming more jerky and uncontrolled with each swallow of my throat around his cock. A few moments later, he lets out a shout, his hips arching upwards, hands pushing downward, and I swallow hard, knowing what's coming this time, is going to be him.

When I spiral down from the endorphin high, I realize my face is pressed against his flat belly, my lips moving softly on it. His fingers are still wrapped in my hair, spasming every now and then. Without a word, I slide up, wrapping my arms around him, and shifting to one side. My own relief can happen later, for now, I think we both need to take a deep breath, and just be.

+

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