We moved into the new year, 1958. My graduation year. I shared a class with a girl named Mary Rose. In fact we became chemistry lab partners. She was as smart as David, quite pretty, and seemed to enjoy my company. I enjoyed hers, though I wasn't aroused by her-that was reserved for David. But she moved into my life, and as she moved into mine she moved into David's. We found that we were often a threesome. We studied together, though the three of us had no classes in common. We were often at each other's houses and were dinner guests at each other's houses. I guess because there were two boys and one girl, none of our parents were worried about the sexual aspects of the relationship-and as far as Mary Rose was concerned they didn't need to be.
One day the three of us were eating lunch together in the school cafeteria, alone at a table where we wouldn't be overheard. Looking back, I am pretty sure that Mary Rose orchestrated the seating. She was very quiet for the first part of the meal, quite unusual for Mary Rose. David and I talked a little, but not much. I think we were contemplating the fact that my parents would be at the symphony until at least 10:30 that evening.
Mary Rose stopped eating and looked at us. She said, "OK, here goes. I have been thinking about this for some time, and I finally have the opportunity and the nerve. I'm going to tell you several facts. I want you to stop me if I have them wrong. Otherwise, shut up. First, Charlie, you're gay."
I was stunned. To begin with David and I never used the word "gay." It was too new and we weren't comfortable with it. Second, how the Hell did she know? Third, did I lie to her, or admit it? Before I could speak, she went on. "David, you're gay too."
David was shocked at the statement about me, and dumbfounded by the statement about himself. I finally spoke and said, "Wait a minute, Mary Rose. What are you saying?"
"You know perfectly well what I'm saying. Are you denying it? If not, shut up."
We were both in shock, but we didn't see anything to do but to shut up. So we did.
She went on: "You love each other."
Sirens and alarms! What did she know? How did she know it? What did she plan to do with the information? We had pretty much admitted it by our silence, but we hadn't said anything you could quote, thank God.
She went on, "I would never tell anyone. Wait, yes I would. I want to be able to blackmail you, and I can't if I promise never to tell anyone."
Where the Hell was this going? Blackmail? God, we were in trouble.
"Guys, don't sweat it. My blackmail demand is dinner out tonight. You really are safe with me. I know you guys are free for dinner, because you are going to Charlie's house because his parents aren't home. You can feed me dinner before you have sex! Pick me up at 6:00." With that she was gone.
Bombshell doesn't come close to describing her impact. We had been certain that we had never acted to give ourselves away. But we guessed we were wrong. I said to David, "I don't think we have any choice but to take her to dinner, do we?"
"Nope. Pick me up about ten of. I suggest coats and ties and a nice restaurant."
Lunch hour was ended and I only had time to say, "OK, see you then."
Mary Rose came to dinner ready to talk. She started with, "Look guys, I'll tell you how I knew. I fell hard for Charlie when we first met. But I couldn't get anywhere with him. It didn't take long to figure out why. Charlie didn't realize he was ignoring my come-ons; he's gay, he didn't even notice. Finally it hit me over the head like a baseball bat. I had really been blind. First, I was angry. But then I realized that Charlie was just being who he is. I either had to deal with it, or go away. Even though I knew I didn't have a chance of catching Charlie, I couldn't go away. You guys are just too much fun. This year has been a real blast for me. You're both great. I love you both. And I know that I won't be loved back, and least not the way I would like. I'll deal. College will bring other boys, and they damn well better not be gay."
I was floored. Mary Rose was right, I had been totally oblivious to her efforts. Hey, I was homosexual. Not "gay" yet, dammit. Mary Rose needed to give up that word. She never did. She made us learn it. Never underestimate a girl's power, even without sex!
Life went on for us. Mary Rose continued to spend a lot of time with us. She entered into our conversations about love, commitment, and exclusivity. And all sorts of other things. She helped us think about our issues, but we didn't really come closer to resolving them.
In late February my parents announced that they were going away for about four days on a little mini-vacation. David and I could hardly contain ourselves. Mary Rose was with us when the announcement was made, and she read our minds completely! Later when we were alone studying, she announced that she wanted to join us for dinner at my house the first night my parents would be gone-three days away. I said, "No way. This is a time for David and me, and I'm pretty sure you know why."
Mary Rose didn't bat an eye. She simply said, "It's time for a little more blackmail. If you don't invite me to dinner Wednesday night, I'll tell the whole school that you fuck David's ass every afternoon."
"I don't...." I knew I had been had. She smiled sweetly and said, "You don't need to pick me up, I'll find my own way. But it had better be a damn good dinner."
It was. David and I didn't really have a choice, did we? We broiled steaks, with baked potatoes, and a frozen vegetable-we really weren't cooks. As the meal drew to a close, David turned to Mary Rose and asked, "What's the deal Mary Rose? Why did you want to come to dinner tonight? Something's up. Spill it."
She did, in the very calm, straight forward way she had of dropping bombs of extraordinary force. "I want to watch you two have sex."
"Holy shit," said I.
"Jesus Christ," said David, even though it was an odd expression for a Jew.
"Boys, watch your language."
"This from the girl that threatened to tell everyone you fuck my ass every day."
"Mary Rose, sex is private. We aren't going to have sex in front of you."
"Why not? Are you afraid? You keep talking about whether you need to be exclusive. That means there can be other people. I'm not asking to join in, only to watch."
"OK, 'Why not' didn't get me anywhere. Let's try 'Why?'"
"I'm curious. And I want to see what I missed when I didn't get to first base with Charlie."
"Curiosity killed the cat."
"Oh, screw that shit. You are going to have to do better than that."
I said, "Mary Rose, we are seeing a different side of you. I have never heard you swear like that. And I certainly wasn't expecting the ... other."
"You guys swear. Are there different rules for girls? And why are there different rules for you guys when girls are present and when they aren't. I'll admit you guys are pretty good. You treat me like one of the gang and don't put me down because I'm a girl. Of course, it helps that I'm as smart as you are. But how do you treat other girls? You know your language is different when I'm not there, and if you think about it, that's a put down."
David tried to help me, "OK. Well allow that. Shit, you don't give us any choice. But we don't have sex in front of boys and we aren't treating you any different because you are a girl."
"Oh no, you don't get away with that. We have talked enough for me to know that you have thought a lot about sex and other boys. The main reason you don't is you don't know who to ask. As far as you know, or I know, you are the only gays in the school. That's certainly not true, but none of us know who the others are."
"Are you really serious? You want to watch us have sex? Tonight?"
"Yes. Yes. Yes. I'll never tell a soul, and I won't ask again. Both of those are promises and you are well aware that I keep my promises."
I looked at David. He sort of shrugged his shoulders. We knew we were beaten. I said, "OK. You seem to know what you want, so give us the gory details."
"I know that if I weren't here you would go upstairs to Charlie's room after dinner and have some kind of sex. I have no idea what you do. I want you to do exactly what you would have done if I hadn't come over tonight."
"I don't know if I can. It will certainly change the dynamics having an observer, especially a female," I said.
"Charlie, being observed will heighten the sex, not turn you off. You know that. And I'll accept that things may go a little differently with me there, and that you can't control that. Now I'm going upstairs. I'm going to put a chair in your corner, Charlie, and you just do your thing like I wasn't there."
"In all of our dreams that's possible."
"Bye, guys. Come upstairs in about five minutes."
I looked at David and it was obvious that he was already hard as a rock. So was I. She was right, this was going to heighten the sex beyond belief. I kissed David, and said, "Let's go. This might turn out to be fun."
David said, "What are we going to do? I can't suck you in front of her."
"Why not? She really wants to see what we do. Let's be honest with her. If she can't take it, she brought it on herself. But she can. And we know she won't use it against us."
"This is weird."
It did turn out to be fun, and it was weird.. She was true to her word. She was sitting in a corner where she had a good view of the bed but wasn't obvious to us. We tried to behave like we would have had she not been there. We always started by kissing each other, long and hard, and then undressing each other. It was easier to be undressed than to undress oneself in that situation. When my underpants came off I think my dick was harder than it had ever been. So was David's.
He pulled me to the bed, and I laid down on my back. My dick stuck up, and David grabbed it rather roughly and pulled and twisted, gradually changing to caressing and tickling. His other hand cupped my balls and tickled them. I knew I wouldn't last long, so I quietly whispered, "Suck," and he did. I was right; I didn't last long. He sucked me dry and swallowed it all. I wondered what Mary Rose was thinking-I certainly hadn't been able to get her out of my mind through all of this.
Mary Rose sat perfectly quiet in her corner chair.
David and I kissed again, and then I started to stroke him. Again, Mary Rose's presence affected what we did. I would have sucked David had she not been there. But I decided that Mary Rose would see more if I used my hand. I did, and he came as quickly as I had. His cum all over his chest now presented a new problem. Just how much were we going to let Mary Rose see? David seemed to sense my hesitation, and he whispered, "Go for it." I did and scooped up his semen and fed it to him. He licked it enthusiastically and then hugged me. We were soon enmeshed in a long, deep, passionate kiss. I don't know how long we lay like that, but it seemed like forever. Finally we separated and sat up on the bed. We looked over to Mary Rose, not knowing what to expect, but certainly never imagining what we did see.
There was Mary Rose, sitting in her chair like before. But she was nude. While we were madly kissing each other, she had to have been taking off her clothes. "Mary Rose!" was the first thing out of both of our mouths.
Mary Rose simply looked at us and smiled. David caught on first, saying, "I feel more blackmail coming. Either we take care of your needs, or you tell the whole school about my dietary habits."
"Right you are!" grinned Mary Rose. "I always knew you were a smart boy. And you know I won't tell anybody, but I want sex anyway."
I said, "Mary Rose, we are a couple of homosexual boys that wouldn't know what to do with a girl's anatomy, if we even understood that anatomy. We certainly aren't going to fuck you. Just what do you have in mind."
"You two gay boys are going to get the anatomy lesson of your life, and then you are going to give me the thrill of my life, at least my life so far. And just so you know, this is the only time you are going to get this chance. I have no plans of making this a habit. It is a once in a lifetime event-for all three of us."
She walked over to the bed, where we were sitting with very hard dicks. "First, I want to experience something." She took David's dick in her hand, caressed it, caressed his balls, and then slowly let it go. She did the same to me, lingering a little longer than with David. We separated with her giving my balls a little squeeze and the tip of my dick a rather hard pinch. It should've hurt, but it didn't. Then she lay down.
Girls just don't have the intriguing anatomy of boys, at least not to look at. Of course, I know that I am saying that from the perspective of a gay man. But Mary Rose insisted that we explore the inside, and that was more interesting. I couldn't believe that she was as bold as she was. In fact, she told us later that she had spent days talking herself into this, and steeling herself to let us poke around inside her. She introduced us to her clit and her cunt, which she insisted on calling her clitoris and her vagina, but which we, rather perversely, insisted on calling her clit and cunt. Then she said, "OK, it's time to get this show on the road. One of you on each side of me. One strokes the clitoris and the other slides his finger in and out of the vagina. Trade now and then."
We didn't have time to trade more than once, as she was soon shaking in a violent orgasm which just didn't stop. Soon she was begging us to stop and we did. She kissed us both, tongues and all. Then she stepped back, smiled and said, "Let's go eat dessert. You do have dessert made, don't you."
I said, "I think we should get dressed first, don't you?"
"Hell no! You both come downstairs just like this. Nobody is around, are they? I assume we are safe from being observed."
"Yes, I admitted." But I wasn't comfortable with the idea of eating dessert-just ice cream-with the three of us sitting nude around the kitchen table. Still, we headed downstairs just as we were.
Mary Rose was absolutely in control. David and I were simply in awe of her. We had never experienced anything like this before, and I don't think we have since. We each fixed a dish of ice cream and we started to sit down at the table. Mary Rose stopped us and said, "No sitting down. Stand over there where I can see something. She stood at the side of the table in full view. Our dicks stuck out in full view as well. When we finished our ice cream Mary Rose started talking. "God," she said, "That was better than my wildest dreams. You guys were wonderful, and I had absolutely no right to ask you to do what you did. But I'm so glad I asked and that you did it. Charlie, and David, I know that is as close as I will ever get to making love to you. Thank you for it. I think that now I can move on. I couldn't have before. But there's more. I think we all three learned a lot in the last hour. We all got the anatomy lesson of a lifetime. It was one that many gay boys never get. And, I feel that I know you now in a way that I never did. I didn't really understand, and certainly I had a hard time accepting, that you really wanted to have sex with each other rather then with a girl. Watching you made that obvious. And even you gay guys have to admit it was fun. But I don't want to do it again. It was the experience of a lifetime, but not an event I want to repeat. I want my sex to come with love. I could have loved you Charlie. I could have loved you, David, if I had met you before Charlie. The sex we had today was in honor of that love. The love is over, and so is the sex. Thank you both."
We didn't know what to say. She had said it all. We all three silently walked back upstairs and started to get dressed. But David snatched away Mary Rose's panties as she was about to put them on. He said, "This is our souvenir. And you get to find out how sexy it is not to wear underwear."
I laughed and laughed. Eventually we told Mary Rose the joke, but we wouldn't let her have her panties back. We told her she could either go home naked or put her clothes on without her panties. She chose the second choice. We walked downstairs with her, and each of us kissed her before she left. We wondered how our relationship with Mary Rose might have changed. I think we also wondered how our relationship with each other might have changed.
We went upstairs, and lay on the bed. Soon we had given each other another orgasm. We didn't talk much. We were just letting the experience sink it. Soon it was time for David to go home. We got dressed-no underpants-and I drove him home. There was no one around on his street, so we kissed goodnight in the car, and he ran into his house.
In fact, not much changed among the three of us. We didn't talk much about that evening, but it wasn't a forbidden subject either. Our friendships grew closer, but the fact that Mary Rose was a friend and not a girlfriend was completely clear. Any blurring had disappeared. Because of her skills, and grades, in science, Mary Rose was accepted in our larger group-in fact she was the only girl in that larger group. A number of people chose to think that she was my girlfriend, and we just let them go on thinking that. However, both David and I were sorry to see that she was not interested in any other boys. We encouraged her, but her response was always, "There's plenty of time. And you guys need me for cover." We couldn't argue with that.
As David and I talked we avoided one subject: Next year. I would graduate and he had a year to go. I wasn't sure where I was going, but it would be out of town. It meant separation. We weren't ready for that, but we seemed to have no alternative. As David worked on his plans for the next year, he made arrangements to go to Germany as a high school exchange student. He had taken sufficiently advanced classes that he already had the courses he needed for college admission. A year in Germany would be good. And, he figured that it would be easier in a new town, cournty, and school than being at Webster without me. While we knew we would be separated next year, we still avoided any kind of serious talk about the implications of that separation.
One day in late March, or maybe early April, Mary Rose hit us with another bombshell. In many ways it turned out to be bigger than the last one. At least it involved more people-a lot more.
"You guys are going to the Junior Prom, aren't you?" she asked one day at lunch. There were others around, so we couldn't reply as we wanted.
Later that day we jumped on her-not physically-and asked, "What is all this about the Junior Prom? Gay couples aren't invited as I remember it. And don't you think the invitation was a little public?"
She laughed and replied, "You would have to have dates. You know the silly rules, no boy can get in without a date. It is supposed to keep the girls from being wallflowers. Girls, of course, can come by themselves."
"So that pretty much ends the matter. We can't get in."
"Yes you can. Charlie, you bring me. David, you can bring Brenda."
David jumped in with, "That wouldn't be fair to Brenda."
"We can trust Brenda. We would have to tell her what was going on. She is a member of the Prom Committee, just like me, and she doesn't have a boyfriend. She will be coming by herself and she'd love to be your cover. And you would be her cover-no girl wants to go alone."
"I don't like the way this conversation is going," I said. "You get us in, and the two of you head off with the Prom Committee, to do whatever Prom Committees do during the Prom, and you leave David and me together. What are people going to think?"
"Let them think what they want. It is time for you guys to come out a little. There will just be three weeks of school left. Charlie. you graduate. David, you're off to Germany. So what if people think they have figured things out. All they can do is guess."
"Why would we want to go to the Prom? It's a dance. David and I aren't going to dance with each other."
"Oh, yes you are."
"Mary Rose. David and I are not going to start dancing with one of us taking the boy part and one the girl part. It simply won't work, and we aren't going to do it."
"Guys, Brenda and I expect you to dance a couple of dances with us. The rest you can sit out. But don't forget the big contest. It's a long standing tradition at Maxwell."
"Of course. Oh, you guys have never been to any of the big dances here, have you?"
"No. There might be a fairly obvious explanation," David reminded her.
"At the big fall dance, and at the Junior Prom, there is always a Charleston contest. The Charleston does not involve the girl and boy dancing in the traditional position. If a boy and a girl dance the Charleston together, there is no boy's part and girl's part. They do exactly the same thing. It is the perfect dance for a couple of gay guys."
"You want us to take you and Brenda to the Prom; dance with you a little, but essentially be with each other most of the evening, and then enter the Charleston contest?"
"You left out one thing. I expect you to win the Charleston contest. Nobody takes the whole thing very seriously, and nobody is very good at it. If you would work at it, you could easily be the best Charleston dancers in the school. What a coup!"
"What a coming out party!" I commented a little acidly.
"That's the idea. But nobody will know if this is a big joke or whether you really are a couple. Kids will argue about that for the rest of the year, and maybe next year as well. Brenda is a junior, she'll be here next year and can tell us."
"You are talking like it is a done deal."
It was. Neither David nor I were able to say no to Mary Rose when she didn't want to hear it. The next thing we knew we were taking her and Brenda out to dinner and she was outing us. She told us later that she knew it would have taken the whole meal for one or the other of us to get around to admitting we were gay. So just after we had ordered Mary Rose announced, "Brenda. This is confidential information. I know we can trust you to treat it that way." Before Brenda could acknowledge or disavow her willingness in that department, Mary Rose continued. "David and Charlie are gay. They are a couple. They are madly in love with each other. You need to know that before we can get on with the business of the evening. So, simply put, do you have a problem with that?"
Well, that was putting it right on the line. We shouldn't have been surprised; Mary Rose talked to us the same way. Evidently she talked to everyone that way. In fact, she only talked that way to her intimate friends whom she trusted completely and loved dearly. Brenda was right up near the top, but since science was as interesting to Brenda as French literature was to David and me, we didn't really know Brenda. Mary Rose, on the other hand, knew everybody. But she was very particular about who she became close friends with. Brenda was "in" with Mary Rose.
Brenda didn't miss a beat. "Why would I have a problem with that? Surely, Mary Rose, you didn't think I would, did you? I can't believe you had to ask."
"I had to ask because these two boys had to hear your answer. They did. And I presume that they are happy with it."
Later as we thought back on the whole evening we had to admit that Mary Rose knew her friends well-just as she had known us well. Brenda was really a lovely girl. But she didn't have a current boyfriend and wasn't really looking. She was very happily involved in a number of different social and activity groups, some mostly girls and some fairly mixed. One of those was the Junior Class Prom Committee. At Maxwell, the spring prom is called the Junior Prom. It is put on by the Junior Class in honor of the Senior Class. Classes did fundraising starting in ninth grade in order to have a big kitty put aside to pay for the Prom. Seniors attended free. Ninth and tenth graders paid $5.00 per couple. Juniors paid whatever the tickets needed to be to pay off the Prom. If the fundraising efforts had been successful, it cost the Juniors nothing to come. This class had broken all records, and the Juniors were free along with the Seniors. There was still going to be a kitty that would go toward a graduation dinner the following year. Brenda had been one of the leaders of this hugely successful effort, and was now the Vice-President of the Prom Committee. Mary Rose was the Senior Class representative on the Committee. That is how they had gotten to know each other.
Brenda said, "What do you want me to do?"
"Let David take you to the Junior Prom."
She never missed a beat as she responded with, "Wonderful, I'll have one of the handsomest boys in the class to take me to the Prom, and I get the double benefit that I can be sure that he won't be trying to get inside my pants at the party afterwards."
David was floored. He had met his match. We were both going to have an exciting time as we doubled dated for the Prom. It was just that nobody was going to be sure whose date was whose.
"Here's the deal," said Mary Rose. They will pick us up and take us for a nice dinner. Then they take us to the Prom. They can't get in the door without us. They have to agree to dance with us a few times when we want. But, in general, we'll be with the Committee and they will be on their own. They are going to dance in the Charleston contest and win it. The last dance will be with us. Then we go to the Committee party afterwards, again with them, and let everybody try to figure out what the deal is. But, unless the boys want to tell, nobody gives anybody a clue about who is dating whom."
Brenda threw her head back and laughed and laughed. "The Charleston contest? Won by two boys. That will be the sensation of the year. Mary Rose, it's great. This has to have been your idea; boys aren't that clever!"
"This from a girl that wants to be taken to the Prom," David said.
"Oh, David, I would just love to go to the Prom with you. My girlfriends will be green with envy. They are constantly talking about 'handsome David' and when is he going to ask someone out. They just think you're shy-it has never occurred to them that you are gay. What a trip! I'm going to have a ball-especially watching the Charleston contest. When did you learn to do the Charleston?"
Mary Rose came to our rescue, "Oh, they don't know the Charleston. They are going to learn it in the next seven weeks."
"You're kidding. Who is going to teach them?"
"You and I are."
They did. God what a month. Every other afternoon we went to one of their houses and they put us through our paces. The steps are easy. The hand motions are easy. Putting them together is moderately difficult. The pace is absolutely impossible. But we got better and better, till the girls assured us that they had never seen it danced so well at any previous Prom.
We still were concerned about two boys dancing together. The girls had an answer for everything. They assured us that at most you touched hands, generally waving your arms in the air or sliding them across your knees. They also noted that the dance had been done in the movie Runnin' Wild by a men's chorus. "How the Hell do you know that?" David asked.
"The Prom Committee is responsible for the contest, and we have to know what it is about. I have been reading up. The Charleston was the dance sensation of the late twenties."
"Enough," one of us said and the other thought. We are in. You haven't given us much choice.
"OK," said Mary Rose. "Here is the way it works. We start with all of the couples on the dance floor. We go several rounds with the judges reducing the group to four couples. We have one dance with the four on the floor together, and the group is reduced to three. Then each of the three does a solo performance, and a winner is picked. The winning couple then leads everybody in the Charleston for a regular dance. That is a real mess, because almost nobody knows what they are doing, but they get out and kick each other anyway."
Brenda said, "You need something extra to add to your routine when you get to your final solo. We have to work on that."
That night David and I decided that we needed the "something extra" to be from us and not the girls. We worked out a really complicated routine for the portion of the dance when you knock your knees together and slide your hands from knee to knee. Our routine included sliding our hands over to the other's knees and back, hooking our feet while kicking. It was preposterous, but we made it work. When we demonstrated it to the girls they assured us that we were the guaranteed winners.
The night came. I drove, picking up David and then Mary Rose. We picked up Brenda, and David, as I had been with Mary Rose, was the perfect gentlemen, calling for her at the door, orchid corsage in hand. For Mary Rose I had brought roses! Both girls were delighted. We had a wonderful dinner. Our hearts pounding, we went on to the dance. The girls took us right out on the dance floor for the first dance, and we tried a little jitterbug. We realized that they should have been teaching us that as well as the Charleston, but that bit of our education had been forgotten.
The girls soon disappeared. They were off with the Prom Committee. We sat at a table alone, but were soon joined by a couple of other couples we knew. We got teased a little about being left by our girls, and we finally got brave enough to hint that we were happy together. Since nobody in 1958 was even thinking of a gay couple at a dance, we could make suggestions like that fairly safely. Besides, we had agreed with the girls that with only three weeks of school left, we really didn't give a damn.
About ten o'clock the band did a few bars of the Charleston and Brenda stood up at the microphone and announced the big contest for the evening: The Charleston. Couples were invited to the dance floor. I took David's hand and led him onto the floor. We stood facing each other, as did all the other couples. But while we were looking at each other, everybody else was looking at us. Someone said, "Is this legal."
Brenda was ready, "Yes it is. The Charleston can be danced solo, in pairs, or in groups-mixed, all male or all female. We are delighted to have a group of two boys join the contest." Clearly she was ready in advance with that answer. Later we learned that she had planted the question! Brenda didn't miss much, and if she did Mary Rose filled in.
The music started and we concentrated on what we were doing. The first round the music wasn't very fast, and we did quite well. Our feet and hands were under control and were in synch. Only for a brief part of the routine we had memorized did our hands touch, and then we held them out front without any suggestion of a male or female role-a situation that we wanted to avoid.
We made the first cut, and then the second. Soon the music was outrageously fast, and the group was being cut down to the final four. Then three. And we made it. Actually, Mary Rose told us afterwards that nobody was even close.
Then it was time for the solo performances. We were told we were last, and we got to watch the other two couples. They weren't bad, but we didn't think they were as good as we were. And they didn't do anything special in their final solo performance. Our turn came, and we really put on a show. Our hands flew around each other's knees in well orchestrated patterns, and our feet kicked together better than in any of our practices. The music ended, and we were astounded by a loud cheering and applause from the crowd. Mary Rose and Brenda were out on the floor with us, hugging and kissing us. Mary Rose whispered in my ear, "I dare you to go over and kiss David."
I almost had guts enough, but I didn't!
The rest of the evening is a blur. We were called "queer" a few times, but mostly the reaction was hugely supportive. We were the hit of the evening. But we had to have the last dance with Mary Rose and Brenda and not with each other. We were willing to push the envelope only so far. It was, therefore, both a happy and sad time. But as we have thought back on it over the years, it has been one of the highlights of our lives. Mary Rose and Brenda, who took full credit for the whole thing, thought it was the most spectacular thing that had ever hit Maxwell High. I don't think they were right, but it is fun to think so.
The Prom threatened to be the first day of the end of our lives. In three weeks I would graduate and be off to my summer camp counseling job. David had a summer job flipping hamburgers at a new food chain called McDonalds. We realized that we couldn't put off conversations about our future together any longer.
Talking late one evening, I said to David, "We simply have to accept that it may be over, or at least be over for a long while. We can't control out lives, the college admissions process, our parents, our summer jobs. We can't insure a chance to be together for more then a few days at a time."
"Shit, I don't want to hear that. But you are right. We are going to have to deal with it."
"First, I want to deal with something else. We have never spent the night together. We never were into sleepovers, like some kids, so we could hardly start that at age 16 and 17. Even the nights my parents were away, you had to go home eventually and wake up in your own bed. Even if it is the only night we ever spend together, I want to spend a night with you."
"How are we going to do that?" David asked.
"We need to take a weekend trip together."
"It doesn't matter."
"We have to give our parents a plausible destination, or they aren't going to approve the trip and yours won't let you have the car."
"I'd say Chicago, but I don't think they'd let me drive to Chicago. They'd say, 'Take the train.'"
"We could. That's it. We take the night train Friday night. To save money we'll share a lower bunk. We'll spend one night in a hotel in Chicago, and come back on the late train on Sunday."
"We are going to share a lower bunk to save money? I love it, and it just might work. We can see sights in Chicago for the weekend and enjoy the night doing other things."
Both sets of parents actually thought it was a good idea. They realized we were growing up and taking this trip was a step toward adulthood-in their view. It was in our view as well, but for very different reasons.
So the weekend before I graduated we were off to Chicago. Two horny boys in a lower bunk. It seemed like the time for something new. David suggested that exploring our asses might be appropriate for that night. But we decided against it. There were several reasons. Neither of us was really interested in the other's anus. But we also had a sense that we were talking about the ultimate sexual act: fucking, if that term is appropriately applied to gays-we weren't sure we were comfortable using the term back then. Since our circumstances were so unsettled, and we weren't able to make a lifetime commitment to each other, we decided were weren't ready to cross that threshold.
So sex on the train was little different from what had gone before. But there was more of it. I don't think we slept at all that night. We lost track of the number of times we came. I am glad that I wasn't the porter that had to handle the sheets in the morning. But we tipped him well. God, it was a night to remember. As was the next night in a hotel, but we did sleep that night. We even did a little sightseeing in the "second city"-and it included a trip to a new comedy club by that name, that would become a lot more famous over the next few years.
But our lives together were about to stand still. We promised each other that we would keep in touch; that we would try to order our lives to bring us back together. But we also had to give each other freedom. We realized that we couldn't spend the next however many years carrying a torch for each other. We had to get on with our lives. We had to meet new friends, and be open to falling in love again. And with those thoughts we arrived at our last evening together. We would still have a few days, but not likely another private time. We both instinctively knew that we wanted to suck and be sucked. David sucked me first. And then I sucked him. He was ready for me to kiss him and feed his cum to him. But I declined. I kept it all for myself-swallowing it all. I wasn't going to let go of that last part of him. We hugged, kissed, and cried. We would like to have cried ourselves to sleep. But I was at his house and had to return to mine. Telling our parents about our relationship was simply beyond where we could go.
And that ended a wonderful phase of my life.
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