Chapter 3

One might be tempted to think that being initiated into the joy of sex by a nymphomaniacal vixen like Rachael would have drawn our hero solidly and irrevocably into the hetero camp, but we all know that isn’t how sexual preferences are decided, don’t we? Still, while all that fucking, sucking, rubbing, licking and embracing may not have had the effect of turning young Eric into a passionate seeker after pussy, it DID stimulate an obsession for more sex ... gender optional. As he ravaged his beautiful cousin’s girl parts, he was falling in love with neither the girl nor her parts, he was falling in lust with the amazing, incredible sensations she could bring to and coax out of his very horny teenage body.

Perhaps that seems a little bit selfish on his part, but isn’t the most basic sexual motivation the drive to satisfy one’s libido? From the moment Eric’s impressive schlong was snugly encased in Rachael’s hot-box, his libidinous pursuit of the pleasures of the flesh was in ascendance. He was obsessed with the desire ... nay, the compulsion to DO IT! He couldn’t have been more addicted if she had plied him with opiates.

Only a day after Rachael and company motored out of town, Eric’s hyper-sensitive and over-used penis was already firing messages off to his brain demanding more satisfaction. He badly needed another warm body equipped with fuckable orifices to have mad, passionate sex with. Whacking off could give him some small, momentary relief, but after the real thing (and so much of it), after experiencing his cousin’s magnificent assets and her superior skills at putting them to use, his right hand and a couple of squirts of Vaseline body lotion was simply not going to cut it.

The problem was that Eric was so socially inept that the idea of getting on his new iPhone and calling around to line up a fuck partner was just about a total non-starter. For one thing, he didn’t really know all that many girls, and for another, he was pretty darned sure those he did know considered him to be a world-class dork. And coming right out and propositioning some guy could quite possibly get his ass kicked, not to mention the likelyhood of being publicly outed and spotlighted as an object of mockery and derision. While society in general seems to be growing more accepting of the various forms of alternative sexuality, most of that apparent tolerance is nothing more than lip service. Homophobia and bigotry still bubble just under the surface.

Ergo, Eric found himself once again focused on Jerrod Berman, his long-time fantasy sex object that just happened to be living right next door. They had known each other since first grade, and Eric didn’t think mild-mannered Jerrod was the type to kick ass and ask questions later over a simple social indiscretion. The issue, of course, was how might he (Eric) manage to persuade such a nice Jewish boy (Jerrod) to drop his jockeys and bend over?

Well, as the saying goes, necessity is the mother of invention. Our boy, Eric, definitely felt the necessity, and he had never been a slouch when it came to invention.

So, one day, maybe a week after the Rachael thing, he was standing at his bedroom window that just happened to face the Berman residence. He was eying their big backyard pool with envy and wishing his family had one because the weather had been downright steamy for the last few days. A refreshing dip would be just the thing to cool his body and dampen his ardor.

As he stood mesmerized by the glints of reflected sunlight dancing over the water’s surface, Jerrod exited the back door of his house and strolled casually across the flagstone patio. He tossed a towel onto the flower-print chaise, positioned himself with his toes hanging over the edge of the pool, bent over into the start position and dove in.

Eric pulled his binoculars out of his desk drawer to get a better view.

Jerrod was a good swimmer. In fact, he was better than good, which was why he was hailed as one of the stars of the school swim team. Eric watched in appreciation as the deeply tanned and muscular figure cut efficiently through the water, employing various strokes while swimming lap after lap for about fifteen minutes. As he climbed out, Eric could see that the guy had to be in incredibly good condition because it didn’t look like he was even breathing hard.

Jerrod spread his damp towel on the chaise and stretched out on it to warm and dry off in the late morning sun.

The thing that had initially attracted Eric to Jerrod way back in the first grade was that he was one of those unusually good-looking kids. That form of attraction in itself was unusual because kids that age don’t generally spend a lot of time obsessing over each other’s physical attributes.

A lot of little ones are considered kind of good-looking, what might be referred to as cute kids, but Jerrod had those arresting good looks that made people stop and really appreciate what they were looking at. Now, at the age of fifteen, he’d lost none of it; only morphed into the more adult, sexier form of incredibly attractive. He was shorter than Eric, about five-foot-eight; he had dark blond hair, warm brown eyes, and a slim, well-muscled swimmer’s body from working out regularly with the team. No doubt, many a young lady at their school fell asleep at night touching herself and indulging in fantasies rather similar to what Eric was having now.

What added significantly to Jerrod’s appeal was that he didn’t flaunt his assets or strut around like he was God’s gift like the other jocks did. Rather, he was, by nature, modest, pleasant and unassuming. Plus, he was intelligent, a good student, and probably a sure bet for a decent scholarship to a prestigious university when the time came, academic and/or athletic. There was a lot to envy in Jerrod Berman.

As Eric watched from his window admiring his neighbor’s form lying supine on the towel, he wondered what it would be like to do something sexual with or to him. He wondered if it would be anywhere near as thrilling as it was with Rachael. And what form would it take, assuming Jerrod wasn’t a closet homophobe who would rip his face off if he tried anything funny? What would it be like to give or get a blow job? Rachael sucked him off a couple of times during their four-day fling, but would it feel different with a guy? And if they fucked, would Jerrod be a willing bottom, or would he insist on being on top; being the alpha male; being the fucker rather than the fuckee? And could a normal guy’s butthole even accommodate a dick the size of Eric’s? He’d seen males and females take monster dildos up the ass on porn sites, but he figured they were just burnt-out whores who abused themselves for a living; kind of like circus freaks. While he was intrigued, even erotically stimulated by the idea, Eric felt some trepidation at the thought of a normal-sized or even a relatively small dick being jammed up his own backside.

And did Jerrod have a large, medium or small penis? Not that Eric really cared all that much because it was hardly a decisive factor. But he had never seen it, so he was curious. As far as he was concerned, as long as it could get hard and it was attached to Jerrod, that’s all that was important.

Jerrod’s genitals probably wouldn’t have been such a mystery if the boys hadn’t split up way back in fourth grade. Since Jerrod was so bright and such a good student, he had been moved up a grade, so he was a year ahead of Eric at school, meaning they were never in the same gym class. They had therefore never had the opportunity to shower together and appraise each other’s assets.

Eric, too, might have skipped a grade or two except for the fact that he wasn’t all that great as a student. IQ tests had shown that was blessed with smarts to spare, but he came up short in the motivation department. For the most part, school bored him to death, and that ennui was reflected in his grades. That, of course, drove his parents to distraction since they knew very well what their son was capable of. They tried everything they could think of to get him to apply himself and to make an effort, including an attempt to enlist the aid of his grandmother. That turned out to be a bust because Granny Sonya’s response was to shrug and say, “Eh! Get off of his back for God’s sake! He will find his own way.”

Anyhow, back to the subject at hand, even with the binoculars, Eric couldn’t even guess at Jerrod’s personal equipment from looking at him stretched out on his towel because his bathing trunks were of the oversize, floppy variety rather than the tight, revealing Speedo brand competitive swimmers usually wore for training and swim meets.

So, here’s the big question Eric was pondering: How would he be able to get close enough to Jerrod to even explore the possibility of getting intimate? They had never been what you could call friends, mostly because Eric was so distant by nature. They were friendly, but not friends. They said “Hi” to each other when they crossed paths, and they even attended each other’s bar mitzvahs, but a real friendship between them never sparked. They were what you might call life-long acquaintances.

But now Eric had a whole new level of interest and his hormones were speaking loud and clear. He wanted ... no, he needed Jerrod’s body, and that meant he was going to have to present a much nicer, much friendlier version of himself. He would have to be something that was not really in his nature. This was going to take some planning.

But first things first. Make contact! That’s where to start.

Before he could rationalize his way out of it, and acting purely on impulse, Eric put down his binoculars, raised his window, leaned out over the sill and shouted, “Hey, Jerrod!”

Jerrod lifted his head and looked around for the source.

“Up here!” Eric called out as he waved.

Jerrod located him and sat up, waving back. “Oh, hi, Eric,” he called out, “What’s up?”

“Um, I was wondering if maybe I could come over and cool off in your swimming pool.”

Jerrod shrugged and said, “Uh, sure, if you want. Mom and Dad aren’t here, but I know they wouldn’t mind if you promise not to pee in the water.”

Eric laughed and said, “Thanks, Jerrod! I promise! I’ll be down in a couple of minutes!”

Eric rushed around grabbing his trunks from the bottom drawer of his dresser, his sun glasses from off his desk, a large bath towel from the hallway linen closet, and headed down the stairs. In a flash of inspiration, he had already decided that since Jerrod’s parents weren’t at home, he would strip naked and put on his swim trunks right there in plain sight of his prey to see if exposing his goodies got any kind of a promising reaction. Not that no reaction at all would seriously dampen Eric’s enthusiasm for the project. It’s just that whatever impression he made on the object of his passion would help to determine how aggressive or delicate an offence he should mount. Difficult or easy, he was determined to give it his best shot.