Maybe You're not Better After all
by Jonathan Perkins
Eric is looking forward to his freshman year of high school until he meets a new student who feels he is superior to any of his classmates. Eric goes about trying to find ways to prove him no better than anyone else.
This is a fictional tale of sexual relationship between two teenage boys. You must be eighteen to read this story. If it is against the law where you are to read stories like this you are kindly requested to leave and not read this story. It is only a fictional story for your reading pleasure.
I look forward to your comments. I appreciate you feedback, good or bad. Send to tryitlikeit27@yahoo.com.
Maybe You're not Better After all
Eric Brown woke up early on this Monday morning looking forward to his first day of school as a freshman at the new high school, anxious to see what was in store for him. A new school, a new school year and a new outlook on life. He and his friends considered starting high school to be a major step on their way to manhood. No more sitting in one classroom with one teacher all day, but now they moved from classroom to classroom, for each different subject. They had a chance to mingle with each other in the hall between classes and if they were late for class, well that was on them. They might get a reprimand or even detention, but it was their choice. Eric could smell freedom in the air. No, wait, that was bacon his mother was frying for breakfast. Eric jumped in the shower, not even taking the time to deal with his morning boner, and finished in record time. Down stairs to eat breakfast and get first day advice from his older brother, Pete. Being a senior this year, Eric's brother knew the ropes at school. Who to be friends with, who to stay clear of, which teachers were easy and which one graded hard. Eric finished his breakfast and went outside to wait on the front steps for his ride. The high school was on the other side of town, a lot further than the neighborhood middle school he and his friends had attended last year. To make it easier, his friend's mothers all got together and worked out a carpool plan to share the driving between five of them. Pete had a license but didn't have a car yet so he couldn't drive them, as much as he tried to convince his parents he could drive Eric to school if he could use the family car. No deal, they only had the one car and his parents needed it during the day. Pete got picked up every morning by some of his friends who had a license and a car.
Both of Eric's parents worked to make ends meet. They weren't what you'd call poor, but there wasn't a lot of extra cash at the end of the week. But that didn't bother Eric or Pete. Pete had an after school job to make some spending money. He would occasionally share some with Eric, as his parents didn't rely on his money to run the house. He earned it so he could use it as his wished. Between his parents and Pete's generosity, Eric was able to buy a few new shirts and a pair of pants to start school.
Eric and his friends bailed out of the car almost before it came to a stop. They were headed for the front door when a stretch limo pulled up to the curb, parking in the bus lane. The driver got out and ran around the other side of the limo to open the door. The boys just looked on in awe, waiting to see who was going to get out. It had to be a celebrity or someone really important.
Instead, a boy about their age stepped out and looked around, flipping his head to throw his hair back. A school bus pulled up behind the limo and honked its horn. The boy looked at the bus with disgust and flipped the bus driver the middle finger. The limo driver ran back around, got in the limo and sped off.
The boy was dressed in a Paul Smith black suit, wearing an Emma Willis shirt and Gucci leather shoes. He had a certain air about him. His blond hair was perfectly combed and when he flipped his head, his hair fell perfectly right back in place. He had blue eyes that made the sky look drab. His chiseled features made his face look like it was carved out of granite from an ancient statue as its model. He was an inch or so taller than most of the other freshman but his broad shoulders and exquisite wardrobe made him look much more impressive. This was not the wardrobe you'd wear to school, especially not on the first day. This would forever mark you as a dork, a handsome boy, but a dork none the less.
The boy strode toward the front entrance with an aloof attitude, not paying any attention to anyone or anything around him. Eric and his friends where already at the front door and were going in one at a time. The new boy came up behind them.
"Out of my, pheasants!" he loudly commanded the boys in front of him.
Eric was normally an easygoing boy who got along with everyone, even those he didn't know yet, but the attitude caught him off guard.
"And who do you think you are? Eric turned to him.
"I'm Bartholomew Lancaster Worthington the Fifth and I'm better than all of you so get out of my way!" he commanded in a booming voice.
Eric couldn't help but laugh at the boy's name. Not wanting to start trouble on his first day, he backed up, bowed and waved the boy through.
"My pardon, your eminence, please come right through." Eric said with mock formality befitting a knave.
The boy huffed and stormed through the door.
"Y'all have a nice day, Bart, ya hear?" Eric said with a southern twang.
The boys spun around and got right in Eric's face.
"The name is Bartholomew, not Bart! Do you understand or is that too long of a name for your underdeveloped infantile mind to comprehend?"
Eric was easy going but quick with rebuttals when called for.
"Being 14 years old, my brain is in fact underdeveloped at this stage of my life, so I'll stick with Bart for now," Eric smiled.
This insolence enraged Bartholomew. He moved closer to Eric so their noses almost touched.
"Do you have any idea who I am?" he shouted.
"Hold on, my brain needs a second to process this. I've got it now. You're Bart something. I don't remember the rest. And you're better than me you think. Did I get that right?" Eric said with a straight face.
All the other boys who had crowded around starting laughing loudly. Bartholomew spun around and grabbed one of the boys by his shirt and lifted him up off the floor.
"The name is Bartholomew! Anyone who can't remember that will answer to me for their stupidity!"
Just then the school principal, Mr Phillips, came along.
"Mr. Worthington, I so glad to see you this morning. Let me show you to your homeroom."
"I would prefer my own room, thank you."
""I'll see what I can do but for right now you'll be placed in a regular homeroom."
The two walked off down the hallway.
"Geez Eric, way to tell that asshole off," one of his friends said.
"He's new. He'll get used to us," Eric laughed, slapped his buddies on the back and went to find their homeroom.
The next few days Eric and his friends were settling in the routine of high school. Even Bartholomew was dressing more casual but still wearing outfits that cost more the Eric and his friends clothes cost all put together. Bartholomew sauntered around the school with his aloof sense of entitlement, not paying any attention to anyone but himself.
It was the third week of school and Eric was in line in the cafeteria to get his lunch. He looked up ahead and saw that the special for the day was running low. He counted how many servings were left and how many were ahead of him and knew he would get the last one. He spotted Bartholomew entering the cafeteria so Eric waved him over.
"He Bart, take my place in line. I'll be the last one to get the special and then everyone else will get peanut butter and jelly sandwiches," Eric told him.
Bartholomew walked up slowly and took Eric's place in line, looking at him with contempt, not thanking him or in any way acknowledging Eric gesture. Eric's friend behind him did say something though.
"Why did you let that prick take your place. Now you will be stuck with a lousy PB and J sandwich."
Eric held his fingers to his lips to quiet his friend.
"I over heard the lunch lady say they were going to run short so they cooked up some cheeseburgers and fries to make sure everyone got a hot meal."
His friend smiled and slapped Eric shoulder.
"Slick move."
Bartholomew got his meal, an English muffin pizza and potato chips, looked at it and frowned. The kids all had a nickname for it, the name as foul as the meal itself. Eric slow walked to the serving station and waited as they brought out the cheeseburgers and fries. Bartholomew was looking for a place to sit as Eric and his friend walked past him.
"You may be better than me Bart, but your lunch sure as hell isn't," Eric giggled as they passed him.
Bartholomew looked at the juicy burger on Eric tray and threw his lunch in the garbage can.
"You've fucked with me for the last time, you philistine!" Bartholomew snarled.
The boys went to their table and laughed as they enjoyed their meal.
Right after lunch Eric was called to the principal's office.
"Mr. Brown, I have received a complaint about you from Mr Worthington."
"Oh, you mean Bart? What's the matter? Is he mad because the stick up his ass is bothering him and I wouldn't help him pull it out?" Eric giggled.
"Mr. Brown! That will be quite sufficient! Mr. Worthington deserves your respect, just as much as any other student in this school, even more. His family is very, very wealthy and influential. It could be extremely beneficial to this school if he enjoys himself while he is here. His family is traveling overseas and he will be leaving by Christmas."
"That's the best Christmas present I could ever ask for," Eric said with a smirk.
M. Phillips glared at him.
"Okay, I won't bug him anymore, (nor any less he was thinking). But if we have to respect him then he should respect us. Respect is earned, not given."
"Just behave yourself. I'll be watching you."
Eric normally didn't let other kids bother him for very long but something about Bart really bugged him. Eric didn't care if the kid was a bazillonaire or if his father was president of the world, he was still just a teenage freshman. Dressed in nicer clothes and brought to school in style but than didn't make him any better than Eric, or any of the other kids in his class.
And as much as Eric tormented Bartholomew there was something about Eric that he couldn't explain. Maybe it was because he was the first boy he knew who stood up to him in a non-confrontational way. Eric seemed to be well liked by everyone else in school so maybe his personality was affecting Bartholomew the same way. What ever it was, he didn't want to dwell on it and he certainly wasn't going to be friends with him.
Eric tried to control his urges to needle Bartholomew but finally he couldn't resist a golden opportunity. They were both in the same math class. Eric being assigned the seat behind Bartholomew. Eric assumed Bart had arranged it with the teacher so he would be in front of Eric, always wanting Eric to be behind him. The teacher was writing an example on the board and asked it anyone knew the answer. The teacher called on Bartholomew who had been looking out the window and not paying attention. Eric noticed his inattention and whispered the answer to him.
"Hey Bart, the answer is 17," Eric said under his breath.
"The answer is 17, sir," Bartholomew said loudly.
"Incorrect. Does anyone else like to make a preposterous guess?" the teacher asked.
"The correct answer is 'Y squared plus X equals 72', sir" Eric proudly announced.
Bartholomew turned and glared at Eric.
"My first guess was wrong. That was my second guess. Sorry, Bart" Eric snickered.
Bartholomew knew that Eric had gotten the better of him again. As they were leaving class, Eric passed Bartholomew and told him,
"You may be better than me, but I'm not as gullible as you," Eric smiled and kept on walking.
Bartholomew was madder at himself than he was at Eric for letting him fool him that easily. No one had ever been able to make Bartholomew look foolish before. There was definitely something different about this boy.
Eric fully expected to be called to the principal's office again but the rest of the day was smooth sailing. Another few weeks passed before another unexpected opportunity came up. Eric and Bartholomew were in the same gym class but Bartholomew never participated. He had brought in a doctor's note, bought and paid for, that excused him from any activities. The first day of gym class he walked into the locker room, looked around and announced that there was no was he was going to disrobe or shower in the germ infested, petri dish of bacteria that was called a shower room.
That day the class had been practicing basketball. One of the balls had gone behind the bleachers where Bartholomew was sitting while reading a book. The class was over and headed to the locker room when the coach asked Eric to get the stray ball. By the time he had retrieved it, everyone else except Bartholomew had left. Eric walked across the court and threw the ball at the basket, missing a relatively easy shot. Bartholomew had seen it and commented loud enough for Eric to hear.
"What a looser, Anyone could have made that shot."
"Really? Let's see you try it if you're so much better than me."
Bartholomew came over and took the ball from Eric and took a perfect shot, right through the net.
"See, easy shot."
"Okay, but try this one," Eric challenged him.
The challenges continued until both boys had worked up a sweat, Eric missing every shot.
"I think that's quite enough to prove who is the better player," Bartholomew proclaimed as he threw the ball into Eric's stomach.
"You're right. You're better than I am at basketball. But now you have to walk around school all sweaty and stinky for the rest of the day. I'm going to take a shower and freshen up. Have a nice day, Bart"
Eric skipped his way to the door to the locker room, leaving Bartholomew to realize he had been bested once again.
The following weekend there was a rock band coming to town for a homecoming concert. The Howling Hounds was a group of five local boys who formed a band and were discovered by a record label. They had been touring all over the country and were doing a surprise homecoming concert. There were no advance tickets sales and capacity of the venue wasn't very large so tickets were at a premium. The line was huge when the tickets went on sale. Eric had skipped school so he could have a chance of getting a ticket. The line was wrapped around the concert hall and down the street. There was a middle-aged guy dressed in a three-piece suit about ten people behind Eric. He looked like he didn't belong in line for a rock concert. Eric took note of him and then turned back to talk the others in line around him. The line was moving and Eric was getting closer to the ticket booth. Five more people and he get his ticket. Just then a car pulled up to the curb and an elderly woman got out. She tripped on the curbing and fell to her knees as the car pulled away. Eric looked around and no one was getting out of line to help her. Eric asked the boy behind him to save his place and ran over to help her up. She had skinned both her knees and both were bleeding. Eric helped her to the ticket booth and they let him take her into the lobby. Two of the security guards came to help so Eric went back outside to get back in line. The boy who was saving his spot had already bought his ticket and left. Eric looked at the line and saw the older man was gone and standing in his place was Bart. Eric tried to get back in line but Bartholomew protested.
"No cutting the line! Go back to the back of the line!" Bartholomew yelled.
"I was in front of you so I'm just getting back where I belong," Eric yelled back.
If he had to go back to the end of the line, he'd never get a ticket.
"You got out of line so you gave up your place." Bartholomew reasoned. He turned to the people on line behind him. "Do you want him to cut the line an get a ticket and you might not?"
A roar of protest went up from everyone in line. It became evident to Eric that helping the elderly lady had cost him his chance to see the concert. He turned and started to walk away from the theatre, his head down and his shoulders slumped. Just then a security guard ran out of the building and looked right and left.
"Where's that kid that helped the old lady? I want to talk to him," he shouted.
Eric turned to face him and raised his hand, wondering if he was in trouble for some reason.
The security guard came over to him and said something to Eric and then led him by the arm into the lobby. Eric had a worried look on his face but knew he'd find out what was going on once inside.
Meanwhile the line moved forward and Bartholomew was able to buy a ticket, the next to the last one sold. It wasn't in the best section of seats, but at least he had a ticket. Once again he proved he was better than Eric was. He walked away smiling that he had a ticket and Eric was in some sort of trouble.
The night of the concert arrived and the whole town was a buzz with excitement. Bartholomew arrived in front of the theatre and his family limousine as usual. The crowd on the sidewalk and the reporters from the local papers thought it was Mad Dog arriving and flocked to the side of the car. When the door opened and Bartholomew stepped out, smiling at the attention he assumed was directed at him. The crowd moaned when they saw who it was and walked back to the front of the theatre.
The doors opened and everyone scrambled to get in and find their seats. Right on time, the lights dimmed, the curtains opened and Mad Dog and the Howling Hounds were on the stage ready to play. The crowd went wild, cheering and clapping. They started playing and everyone quieted down to listen to the music. They went right into a second set before they stopped playing and Mad Dog addressed the audience.
"Thank you all for coming out tonight. It is so great to be performing in my hometown. I see many familiar faces and many new faces here tonight. I would like to take a moment to recognize my mother, Madeline Daniels. Stand up mom and let everyone see the prettiest lady here tonight."
An elderly lady in the front row stood up and turned to wave to the crowd. Bartholomew thought she looked familiar but he couldn't place where he had seen her. When she sat down, Mad Dog spoke to the audience again.
"I'd like to thank a special young man with us tonight who stepped out of line and gave up his chance to get a ticket to help my mother when she had fallen earlier today. Eric Brown, stand up please."
Eric was seated next to Mad Dog's mother in the front row. He stood up and waved to everyone, finding Bart in the crowd, pointing at him and saluting.
"Let's give Eric a big hand," Mad Dog said as he began to clap.
The applause died down and Eric turned back to look at Bart just in time to see him stand up and push his way past people to leave the theatre. Eric turned back and enjoyed the rest of the concert. When it was over, he was invited back stage for the after concert party and to get autographs.
Eric hadn't planned this but he sure was happy with the way the day turned out for him. Eric was given a hero's welcome at school, everyone wanting to hear the details of the party. He was surrounded and didn't notice Bart walking in the school, making a snarling face as he walked by.
Bartholomew was on edge now, keeping his guard up to make sure Eric didn't catch him again. For the next few days he was getting more and more nervous, constantly looking around to see where Eric was and what he was doing. No one had ever affected him this way. It wasn't just getting the better of him several times but there was something else about Eric that he couldn't get past. He had to do something drastic. Finally he had enough of this and confronted Eric.
"Why do you torment me trying to get the best of me. Haven't you learned that you are not better at than I am in spite of your infantile little games you are playing?"
Eric looked at him with a concerned face.
"There is one thing I definitely know I'm better at than you but I know you'd never try to prove me wrong. We'll just have to leave it at that," Eric said as he walked away.
"No we won't!" Bartholomew yelled after him. "Tell me what it is and I'll show you who's the better of the two of us."
"You'd never do it so let's forget about it."
Eric turned and started talking to one of his friends that was nearby, leaving Bartholomew standing in the hallway by himself. He was furious. How dare Eric throw down a challenge and them refuse to go through with it. Bartholomew wasn't going to let him get away with it.
Eric had a plan. He had talked it over with his older brother who, like everyone else at school, was fed up with Bartholomew's attitude. Eric's brother had told him about experimenting with his friends when they had hit puberty. It took some convincing but Pete finally agreed to go along with Eric's plan.
Several more days of Bartholomew taunting Eric to follow through with his challenge, getting more frustrated when Eric kept refusing to give in finally had Bartholomew right where Eric wanted him. He pulled him to one side so no one could hear the conversation.
"Okay, look, here's the deal. My brother is quite a lady's man and has more sex with girls than anyone else in school."
"Yes, I've noticed the girls following him around."
"But like every other guy in school, he occasionally hits a dry spell. He really gets miserable when he isn't getting off. Being a good brother, I'll give him a blow job to get him over the hump until he gets a girl back in the sack again."
"You what!" Bartholomew yelled.
"Shhh. We don't want anyone else to know about this."
"To know that you're both gay?"
"No way. Neither one of us is gay, I'm just helping my brother, that's all."
"So what are you saying?"
"My brother says my blowjobs are the best he's ever had, way better than any of his girl friends. So I know for sure I'm better than you at that. You ever give a blow job?"
"Certainly not! I would never lower myself to do such a vile thing."
"You might like it. Oh well, I guess I found what I'm better at."
Eric walked away from Bartholomew hoping he had planted the seed. He was sure Bartholomew would be too egotistical to dismiss this. For the next week or so Eric would walk past Bartholomew and smile and wave.
"Hey Bart, how's number two doing today?"
After a week of this Eric could see the frustration mounting in Bartholomew. Eric made his final play by having his brother walk along with him where they knew they would run into Bartholomew. As they passed in the hall, Eric and his brother stopped.
"Hey Bart, this is my brother, Pete."
"Hi Bart, glad to meet you," Pete said as he extended his hand to shake Bartholomew's hand.
Bartholomew didn't offer his hand but looked up and down Pete as if he was looking at a side of beef hanging in a butcher shop, pausing when he looked at Pete's crotch. Bartholomew shrugged his shoulders and walked away. Pete turned to Eric.
"He really is a pompous ass, isn't here?"
"The pomp-pest-tuest," Eric replied.
"That's not even a word but I think I agree. You think he'll finally go for this?"
"Did you see how he looked you up and down? I've seen girls do that to you just before they strike," Eric laughed.
A few more days went by when Bartholomew stopped Eric outside the cafeteria.
"Fine, I'll participate in your obscene contest just so I can prove you wrong. How do we do this?"
"My parents both work so you can come to my house after school and do it there."
"There are conditions."
"Such as?" Eric asked knowing this might not be easy to arrange.
"First and foremost, complete discretion. No one, and I mean NO ONE can know about this. Is that clear?"
"Of course. That was the first thing my brother was concerned about as well. What happens behind closed doors in no one's business but ours," Eric assured him.
"Second, your bother must be clean, freshly showered with no after shave or deodorant of any kind."
"No problem."
"Third, it will only be he and I in the room. I don't want you to watch. When it's all over, your brother can tell that I was better."
"I trust him to be impartial."
"And last, he mustn't ejaculate in my mouth. He has to tell me before he has his orgasm."
"He won't go for that. That's the best part. After he's finished shooting his load, you can pull off and spit it out. He doesn't mind that, you don't have to swallow."
"Oh god, what have I gotten myself into. When he tells you how much better I was than you, you have to stop calling me Bart and harassing me in the hallways and in class. Understand?"
"Absolutely. This will be the last thing to decide once and for all who's the better person"
The next day the big limousine pulled up at the address Eric had given Bartholomew. He looked around as if everyone in the neighborhood knew what was going on and would be looking out their windows to see who this boy was that was making a house call to suck Eric's brother. He was about to knock on the door when Eric flung it open.
"Hey Bart, I didn't think you'd show up."
"A Worthington never goes back on his word, not even for something as crude as this."
"Come on up stairs, my brother is just getting out of the shower."
Bartholomew looked around the house with contempt, shaking his head at how people of Eric's kind could live in such Spartan quarters. He followed Eric upstairs and stopped at the top step as he spotted Pete coming out of the bathroom totally naked, carrying his towel over his shoulder.
"Hey Bart, ready for the big event?"
Bartholomew's face turned bright red as he looked down and saw Pete's cock already half-hard and sticking out at an angle from his body.
"In here." Eric said as he stood to one side and ushered Bartholomew into his brother's room.
"You stay out here, remember?"
"Of course. I am also a man of my word."
Bartholomew entered the room and closed the door behind him. Pete was sitting on the edge of the bed with his legs spread wide.
"Show time. It's all yours. Eric told me you wouldn't swallow so I brought my towel for you to spit in. But not until I'm finished cumming."
Bartholomew nodded and slowly made his way to Pete. He kneeled down in front of him and looked at the massive stiff manhood in front of him, the wet piss slit staring back. A small drop of precum had formed at the tip. Bartholomew had spent all of last night researching fellatio on the Internet, the process, the techniques, the good and the bad of sucking a cock. He researched famous people in history and people in pop culture today who were gay or bisexual. He assumed they had all sucked a cock at some time in their lives. What else could gay people do together? It didn't give him much comfort to know that so many other people had done this. At least he wouldn't consider himself a pervert or a weirdo. Or maybe he was?
"Come on, let's get going. I don't have all day," Pete complained.
Sweat was starting to form on his forehead as Bartholomew looked up at Pete. It was crunch time, he had to put up or shut up. He wasn't going to back down now and let that impertinent Eric claim the win. He reached out and took a hold of Pete's boner. The feel of another's man cock gave Bartholomew a momentary panic attack. He was actually doing this. He stroked it a few times, amazed at how much this unfamiliar cock felt so familiar, just like his own which he held in his hand countless times. But yet it was different. He was getting a totally unfamiliar feeling as he stroked it, not getting the satisfaction that he got from stroking his own, but a thrill ran through him at the feel of another person's flesh in his hand. The small drop of precum at the tip grew into a glob of clear fluid, ready to drip to the floor if Bartholomew didn't do something. He took his finger and smeared it around the head of the cock then brought that finger to his mouth and tasted it. Very similar to tasting his own, but in a more shameful manner. Pete put his hand on the back of Bartholomew's head and just rested it there. He thought if he put any pressure, it would spook him. The reassuring hand did the trick as Bartholomew moved his head lower and opened his mouth as wide as he could. He covered his teeth with his lips as he read about and took Pete in his mouth, inch by inch until he went too far and gagged.
"Oh yeah, that's the way. Take Daddy's cock all the way in," Pete moaned.
Pete referring to himself as Daddy made Bartholomew immediately pull back and let the cock fall from his mouth. It had made him think of his own father and what he would think of him on his knees doing such a despicable thing.
"Please, no commentary," Bartholomew growled.
"Sorry. Just get back to what you were doing."
Bartholomew lowered his head again and once again went as deep as he could before he gagged. He had also read about his and how to overcome it and take his subject deeper. He used all the hints he could remember and soon had his nose in Pete's bush, the cock sitting just inside the entrance to Bartholomew's throat. He held it there for a while then backed up and began to bob up and down, using his tongue and the roof of his mouth to add more sensations. He reached under his chin and took a hold of Pete's scrotum and massaged his testicles. What he knew what he read about that trick was right on the money when Pete let out a loud moan and ran his finger through Bartholomew's hair. He was considering the other hint he had read concerning stimulation of his anus but that was too much for Bartholomew. He wasn't going to go there even though Pete had made sure it was especially clean.
Eric was outside the door listening to Pete moan. He was as giddy as a young boy waiting to open his Christmas presents would be. He had actually conned the high almighty Bart into sucking another guy's cock, his brother's cock no less. He couldn't resist the temptation, opening the door just a crack to look in. Sure as hell, Bart was on his knees between his brother's legs, his head bobbing up and down. He could see Bart's hands on the side of Pete's thighs, presumably to steady himself.
Actually, Bartholomew was using another technique to give the best blowjob he could. As per his research, he was rubbing his hands up and down Pete's thighs then up his chest and tweaking his nipples, then back down to his lower extremities.
Pete's hips were starting to jerk and his cock stiffened. The little extras Bartholomew had included had their effect and brought Pete to his climax. He began to pump shot after shot of cum into Bart's mouth, causing Bart to choke at first. But like any good Olympian athlete, he quickly considered how many points would be deducted from his final assessment if he didn't take all of it in his mouth. He swallowed a small amount to make room for the rest and found it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. Again, analyzing Pete's reaction, he didn't want him to think that Bartholomew was actually enjoying swallowing cum. He waited until Pete had stopped his spasm and pulled off, leaning over to spit the remainder in the towel.
Pete knew the game plan Eric had laid out. Bartholomew stood up and looked down at Pete's softening cock, surprisingly still finding it a pleasant sight.
"Well, was that better than your brother does?" Bartholomew asked, anxious to confirm he had won the contest.
Eric came in the room when he heard Bart talking.
"It was good, no doubt about that. Are you sure that was your first time?" Pete asked.
"It most certainly was! So it was better than your brother's?"
"I don't know if I'd go as far as to say that. It was damn good but I think it is a tie," Pete said as he scratched his chin in deep thought.
"I call bullshit! You're just saying that because he is your brother."
"Oh hell, I'd love to tell him he's not good enough and needs more practice but I have to be honest. One is as good as the other."
" I don't accept that answer. There must be some way to tell who is better."
"There is one way if you want to come back again," Pete smirked.
"No, Pete, no way. Bart won't go along with that. We're just going to have to consider this a tie. You're not better than I am and I'm not better that you. Looks like we're equals," Eric proclaimed.
"No we are not!" Bartholomew yelled. "There is no way by any measure, in any way or form, in any realm that you are I are equals. I will come back and put this to rest once and for all. Just tell me when. I fully expect you to render a decision in my favor," Bartholomew yelled at Pete.
"Okay, great. Just make sure you take a good shit before you come over next time," Pete advised.
A good shit? Just what did that have to do with anything, Bart wondered? Suddenly it dawned on him.
"Are you out of your mind? There is no way I'm going to let you put your penis in my rectum! I'd rather consider your low life little brother call me his equal!" Bartholomew screamed.
"Okay, have it your way."
Pete got off the bed and got dressed. Bart stormed out of the room and down the stairs. Eric looked at his brother and they both started to laugh.
"Think he'll come back?" Pete asked.
"You can count on it. I'll work on him at school and he'll cave in soon. Make sure you come straight home and shower again when I let you know he's ready."
The next day at school Eric was laying low and watching for a chance to catch Bart and Mr. Philips together. His opportunity came as they were headed to the cafeteria for lunch.
"Hey Bart, how's things?"
"Mr. Brown, I would suggest you behave yourself," Mr. Philips warned him.
"Of course, Mr. Philips. Always. Bart and I are buds now, aren't we Bart?"
Bartholomew just glared at Eric as his face turned red, thinking back to what happened yesterday.
"Well, Bartholomew, I'm glad to see you and Eric have become friends," Mr. Philips said with a big smile.
"Yes, it's surprising what can happen when we make up our mind to do something," Eric said with a smirk, winking at Bart.
Bartholomew was conflicted. He was nervous that Eric might say something about yesterday but getting irritated that Eric was taunting him again. He was embarrassed that Eric had talked him into sucking his brother's cock, even though it wasn't as bad as he feared. He was starting to break out in a sweat and excused himself to go get his lunch. As he was walking away he heard Eric tell Mr, Philips that there was no real difference between Bart and him. Bartholomew wanted to turn back and declare that he was still better than Eric but that would lead to possibly exposing what had happened with Eric's brother so he kept walking.
Bartholomew really couldn't fathom why Eric bothered him so much. He could understand why Eric was constantly trying to prove he was Bartholomew's equal. He had seen this kind of envy so many times before and he normally shrugged it off, smug about them knowing he was better and there was nothing they could do about it. But Eric was different. He wasn't aggravated or coming at Bartholomew in a hostile way, just persistent, often getting over on him when Bartholomew let his guard down. Was he actually enjoying this kind of sport? Was he growing to like Eric in some weird manner? No. Eric was so far beneath him that they could never be friends and Bartholomew was sure he never wanted to be. But there was something about the boy.
Eric got in the lunch line, looking around to see where Bart was sitting. He spotted him sitting in the back of the cafeteria with Mr. Philips. Eric took his tray and went over to sit with the two of them.
"Mind if I join you?" Eric asked with a big grin.
"Certainly, Eric," Mr. Philips answered. "I have to get back to lunch room duty anyway."
Bart glared at Eric as Mr. Philips excused himself and walked away.
"Why are you tormenting me so?" Bartholomew asked.
"Now that we're equals there is no reason we can't be friends," Eric replied.
"We are NOT equals, never have been and never will be. I am better than you and always will be!" Bartholomew snarled through gritted teeth.
"There is one way to find out for sure but you won't go through with it to be proven you're no better than me."
"And what would that be? To let your homosexual brother have his way with my rear end?"
"He's not gay, but he does love to fuck anything he can. He tells me I'm not very good at it so he only wants me when his girlfriends won't let him and he can't get anyone else to take care of his urges. I'm sure you'd be better than me at that so I'm glad you aren't going to do it."
"The hell I won't! If it will shut you up for good, it will be a small sacrifice for some peace and quiet around here."
Bartholomew's eyes opened wide and his mouth shut tight. He realized what he had just agreed to. There was no way he wanted to have Pete's penis inserted inside him. But he couldn't back down now.
"Are you sure? I'd just like to leave it as it is, us being equals now and all," Eric baited Bart.
"I am one hundred percent sure. I can come over this afternoon and get this over with," Bart said and left.
Eric was beside himself with glee. He had just conned this pompous ass into letting his brother fuck his tender virgin ass. He ran to see if he could find his brother before classes started again and give him the news.
"I don't know how you did this but I can't wait to ram him hard and deep. I've never fucked a guy before but this will be worth it, not that I'm into fucking guys mind you, I'm just looking to help you out and teach that prick a lesson." Pete said.
"Sure, whatever," Eric laughed.
Bartholomew showed up at Eric's house shortly after school let out. Eric opened the door and invited him in. Bartholomew was looking uncharacteristically nervous and quiet.
"I'm glad you decided to come. I'm sure my brother will be glad too," Eric said with a smile.
Bartholomew replied with a half-hearted smile then looked towards the stairs.
"Is your brother home?" Bartholomew asked.
"He sure is. He's upstairs waiting for you."
Eric led the way up to Pete's room, standing at the doorway to let Bart go past him. He stopped just inside the door when he saw Pete standing by the bed, naked and hard. Bart swallowed and slowly made his way to the side of the bed.
"How do we do this?" he asked.
"First, you have to get your clothes off. Then get up on the bed and kneel on all fours. I'll do the rest," Pete smirked.
Bart slowly started to undress then realized Eric was still standing in the doorway.
"A little privacy, please," he quietly asked Eric.
"Oh, sure, no problem. Just let me know when you're done so I can come back and find out who is the better of the two of us."
Eric backed out and closed the bedroom door. Bart finished undressing and climbed on the bed as instructed.
"As you know, I've never participated in anything like this before. Do you have any advice as to how I can make it better for you, better than Eric?" Bartholomew asked.
Bartholomew has started to do some research on the Internet as he had done with oral sex. He got so nervous reading the details that he couldn't continue and shut down his browser.
"I'll let you know as we go along. For now, just get ready for me to loosen you up."
Bartholomew was thinking he had made a poor decision to do this. He was putting a lot on the line to prove he was better than Eric. But it would be worth it when it was over. This would shut Eric up for good.
Pete got a tube of lube and squeezed a generous amount onto his hand. Standing on the floor, he moved to the side of the bed and reached over to Bart's ass. He rubbed is with his dry hand then used his other hand to smear the lube up and down Bart's ass crack. Bart inhaled sharply at the touch of Pete's hand and the cool sensation of the lube. Pete rubbed up and down, hesitating at Bart's hole briefly. Bart was feeling a strange tingle, an unexpected arousal from someone touching him there. Feeling his cock stir, he thought maybe this might not be so bad after all. No, it was disgusting and not something a person of his stature should be participating in.
Pete played with Bart's hole a little then inserted a finger. The sudden stab of pain on the intrusion caused Bart to again inhaled sharply then let out a soft expression of pain when he exhaled. Instinctively his ass tightened around Pete's finger.
"Relax. If you tense up it will hurt a lot worse," Pete advised.
Bart slowly relaxed his ass while Pete worked his finger in and out, pressing from side to side to help loosen him up. When he felt he had done as much as he could with one finger, he gently pushed a second finger in. This didn't hurt as much as the first finger, not going as far as to feel comfortable or even as arousing as the first finger was, but tolerable.
"I think you're ready for more," Pete announced.
Bart was bracing himself for another finger when he felt Pete climb up on the bed behind him. Pete thighs were against Bart's legs, Pete's hands spreading his ass cheeks.
"Relax and don't tense up."
The moment of truth had arrived. Bart felt the tip of Pete's hard cock being positioned at his hole. Bart began to breathe rapidly, not knowing exactly what to expect. Pete pushed and then pulled back, trying to see how relaxed Bart was. He pushed again a little harder and the tip of his cock made its way in. Bart cried out in pain.
"My gawd, that hurts. I don't think I can go through with this," he said with his teeth gritted.
"Now you're starting to sound like Eric. He's always trying to chicken out."
Pete knew exactly what he was saying. Baiting Bart like that was all that Bart needed to hear.
"It hurts, but I'll show you who is the better man. Keep going!" Bart exclaimed.
Pete grinned as he pushed harder to get past Bart's sphincter and get his cock half way in. He stopped to let Bart get used to the feeling.
Bart was in agony, his ass feeling like some one had shoved a hot poker in him. The searing pain, the feeling like he had to take a shit and the shame of what he was doing all had to be put aside to he could prove he was better than Eric.
"So, is this it?" Bart asked.
"Yes, this is it," Pete lied.
"Oh thank god. It's done with."
"No, this is it for as far as I've gone so far. Now its time for the rest of it," as Pete plunged his cock deep into Bart, his groin smashing against Bart's ass cheeks.
"Fuck! That hurts! I thought you were done?" Bart yelled out.
Eric was standing outside the bedroom door and smiled to himself. Bart wasn't so high and mighty now.
"I've only just begun," Pete answered as he slowly began to rock back and forth, his cock sliding almost all the way out before going deep again.
The pain started to subside after a few minutes of Pete's gentle rhythm. Bart's ass was numb but he could feel Pete's cock up inside his bowels, pushing against areas that had never been touched before. Bart's arms were getting tired so he let his upper body down to rest on the bed, leaving his ass up in the air. Suddenly Bart felt something inside him that sent a shiver through his body. Changing the angle he was at had made Pete's cock hit a spot that made Bart's cock swell up. 'How could this be happening,' he thought. The pain was replaced with a wave of pleasure for that brief instant. Then it happened again. Then again. Bart's cock was stiff and starting to leak. He was familiar with precum when he masturbated but he hadn't touched his cock. Another jolt hit him when he felt a small amount of ejaculate at the tip of his piss slit. This was too much for him. There was no way he was going to allow himself to enjoy this. He had to think about something else to take his mind of this until Pete was finished. He thought about what his father would think if he knew what he was doing. That helped. He could feel his cock softening slightly. Why did his father have to send him to that damn public school anyway? Ah, yes, that damn low-class institution of mediocre learning. If he hadn't gone there, he never would have met Eric and be goaded into doing this. Eric did have a way bout him, though. No one else could have talked him into this. Or sucking Pete's cock. What was it about him? He was always so friendly, smiling with those cute dimples in his cheeks all the time. He was cute, in a general kind of way, And his easy going attitude. All wrapped up in one package.
Thinking about Eric had made his cock harden up again. Bart wasn't particularly paying attention to what was happening with Pete until Pete grabbed his hips and thrust hard and held himself there. Bart could feel the pulsing of Pete's cock as he unloaded his sperm in him. The pulsing cock was throbbing against that spot that he had just discovered and caused Bart to explode in an unexpected orgasm like he had never experienced from jerking off. Eric was still on his mind and he buried his head into the blankets and murmured Eric's name.
Pete and Bart stayed coupled for a few minutes in the after sex euphoria. Pete finally pulled out and slid off the bed. Bart lost his balance and fell of the bed, landing on his ass next to the bed.
"I'm going to take a shower. You can get dressed and be gone by the time I'm done."
"Wait! You can't leave yet. You have to tell me that I was better than Eric," he begged.
Pete smiled as he opened the door and spoke to Eric.
"Eric, Bart wants to know if he was better than you. Explain it to him, will you? I have to take s shower."
Bart was sitting on the floor, Pete's cum slowly oozing out if his gapping hole. He had worked up a sweat and felt unclean and smelly. His father had always told him that gentlemen don't sweat. That is for people who do menial physical labor. He looked up at Eric and almost smiled seeing his face but then caught a whiff of sweat and cum. Seeing Eric gave him a strange feeling, like there was a connection between them.
What Bart didn't realize, as many his age don't, is that the human body is a very complex thing. When someone had an orgasm, male or female, it results in some very strong emotions. Oh, sure, there is the feeling of ultimate pleasure and the release of built up tension. But in the mysterious path of evolution, an orgasm can create a bond between two parties, the two that are present at the time or the between the one experiencing the orgasm and who ever they were thinking about at the time. Usually the bond is strengthened between a man and wife. But it could also be a mental bond with movie star, an undeclared girlfriend/boyfriend or a picture in a porn video. Bartholomew thoughts had drifted all over the place trying to get his mind off the pleasure he was enjoying. He was thinking about Eric at the time he was pushed over the edge, giving him a brief but undeniable sense of closeness to Eric. He hadn't fully realized this had happened to him.
"What did he mean, you'd explain this to me? He would have to be the one to make that decision, right?"
"There is no decision to be made. When it comes to sucking Pete's cock and getting fucked by him, you're definitely better than me."
""I knew, I knew I was better than you!" Bart exclaimed.
"But only because I've never sucked his cock or let him fuck me."
"What do you mean? You said . . ."
Eric interrupted him.
"Pete has never had a guy suck his cock or let him fuck a guy's ass. He only did this for me."
"But why? Just to humiliate me?
"No, to show you that despite your wealth and prestige and your 'holier than thou' attitude, you're nothing but a naïve boy who is vain enough to exchange your dignity and your virginity to try and prove that you were better than anyone else. So I guess you can claim you're better than me, but I'm a whole lot smarter than you."
Eric smiled and turned to head out of the room. A dejected and humiliated Bartholomew looked up at him and asked,
"You won't tell anyone about this, will you?"
"No, I just wanted to prove a point. I've done that and I'll keep between the three of us, as I'm sure my brother wouldn't want this getting around school either."
"You're not going to just leave me here like this, are you?"
"You better get dressed and get out of here before he gets out of the shower. You were so much better than me that he might want seconds," Eric laughed as he left the room.
Bartholomew sat on the floor in a puddle of cum, sweaty and ashamed of himself, not knowing what to do or where his life was going from here now that he really wasn't better than anyone else. The shame and degradation he felt were just some of the feelings he was experiencing. The feeling of loneliness and betrayal surfaced as well.
Voting
This story is part of the 2024 story challenge "Inspired by a Picture: I'm Better Than You and I Know It". The other stories may be found at the challenge home page. Please read them, too. The voting period of 29 August 2023 to 20 September 2023 is when the voting is open. This story may be rated, below, against a set of criteria, and may be rated against other stories on the challenge home page.
The challenge was to write a story inspired by this picture:
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