Disowned
by Victor Thomas
Chapter 6
Kenny
My last class was about to end and I wrote final notes in my notebook. The bell rang, and everyone stood up to leave. I was normally among the last to leave class, but this time I wanted to rush since Javier would be waiting for me by the lockers.
"Do you have plans for the evening?" Chris asked when I had collected all my stuff.
"Um, I… yeah," I hesitated.
"Oh, I see. You're going to hang out with Javier."
I raised my finger in front of my mouth.
"Could you please not shout it to everybody?"
The grin on his face vanished, and he glanced around. Luckily, nobody had paid us any attention.
Even though I liked school, I felt tired. Monday always felt like the longest day of the week.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"It's okay," I said, keeping my voice low. "But you know my mother."
"She probably would prefer Hannah over Javier."
There was no doubt about that. Unfortunately, that wasn't what I wanted. Even if I had to stay in the closet until I was in college, it was all worth it. It didn't require more than just a tiny thought of my cute boyfriend to bring a smile to my face.
We walked to our lockers, but unlike what I had expected, Javier wasn't there. It was odd since his last class had ended an hour ago. I took my books from my locker and packed my backpack in the crowded hallway.
Maybe he's studying in the library, I thought, but I realized how strange that sounded. I could spend hours studying there and forget the time, but Javier barely knew where the library was.
"Should I drive you home?" Chris offered.
I frowned.
"I'll try and call him."
I searched for a quieter place and pulled out my phone. If Javier was mad at me, at least I wanted to explain my behavior this morning. While seeing his car in my driveway had caught me off guard and my response had been a bit sour, we had kissed in the parking lot and even walked to the school hand in hand. If I knew him at all, there shouldn't be any reason for him to be cranky.
Before I managed to find his number, a car horn honked. I looked up through the glass door and saw him standing beside his car waving.
Jesus, you've got to be kidding me, I thought, rushing outside. Not willing to glance around, I assumed at least half the students must be watching me.
"You're not supposed to drive here," I said as soon as I had climbed in the car.
He flashed a big grin.
"Let's go to my place, and I'll show you plenty of other things I'm not supposed to do."
He reversed the car back to the parking area, and I thanked god that none of the teachers saw us. Only when we got to the street did I begin to relax. His hand massaging my thigh helped as well. I leaned my head against the headrest and enjoyed the short trip to my boyfriend's house.
Ten minutes later, he parked the car in the front yard and turned to look at me.
"Can I kiss you now?" he asked.
I smiled and nodded.
"Sorry that I…"
He kissed me to interrupt the apology and folded his arms around me. His lips were soft, and his hands rubbed my back gently. I stroked his black hair with my right hand. It was shining and thicker than my own curly light brown hair.
"You're so cute," he said, looking me in the eyes.
I didn't have time to reply when his hand found my crotch and rubbed it. There was a sexy grin on his face. Our kiss had aroused me already, but now my erection grew rapidly to it's full length in his hand.
He squeezed it a few times before he pulled his hand away.
"Let's go inside."
"I don't want to be the only one who gets out of the car with a boner," I protested.
I moved my hand up and along his thigh.
"You're too late."
My fingers found their target trapped inside my boyfriend's jeans. And I was certainly late; he was as hard as a rock. We kissed again and I felt through the fabric how his erection jerked. Our eyes met, and needless to say, we both had the same thing in mind.
"Good thing that nobody's home," he said when we hurried to the front door.
"Suits me fine."
When he put the key in the lock to open the door, I leaned against him and wrapped my arms around my boyfriend. I pushed my hands under his shirt and ran my fingers along his abs. He must have felt my erection against his butt.
"Who's a bit impatient today?" he asked.
I laughed.
"You," I said, grabbing the bulge in his jeans.
We stepped in, and my heart almost stopped beating. Not that she was scary, but neither of us had expected his mother to be home cleaning the kitchen. For a moment, the three of us were looking at each other. As always, he was the first to open his mouth.
"Kenny and I will be doing homework in my room," he said.
"Hello, Ms. Santos," I said politely.
She nodded in response. She wasn't exactly smiling, but there was something shy and friendly at the same time on her face. Her hair was as dark as Javier's, and she wore hardly any makeup. He was taller than her, which didn't require much, but otherwise there was something similar in their looks.
I was grateful that my long t-shirt covered the front of my jeans. Trying to be nonchalant, I followed him toward his room.
"Javier, please keep your door open," his mother said.
She knows. My cheeks went up in flames. He opened his mouth and was about to say something when he noticed the awkward expression on my face.
"Mom," he said, "we're not dating."
I closed my eyes. Because of me, my boyfriend was now lying to his mother. Why did life have to be so complex? When I opened my eyes, Ms. Santos was wiping bread crumbs from the table.
"I saw you in the car."
She glanced at him and walked to the sink to rinse the rag.
He said nothing. He gestured for me to follow him to his room, which I gladly did. As soon as we got there, he closed the door and locked it. I stared first at my boyfriend and then at the door like I was expecting his mother to knock at any moment.
"Didn't she ask us to leave it open?" I said.
"You really want my mom to watch this?"
He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me.
"Is she okay with us doing… this?"
He shrugged.
"We haven't really talked about it."
We sat on the bed and he told me the story about how he came out to his family a few weeks ago. I had heard it already a few times, but his boldness continued to impress and amuse me. I wished I was brave enough to do the same.
"My dad is cool about me being gay," he said.
"I wish I could say the same."
I talked to my father only a few times a year and it was earlier this summer when we had last saw each other. The week I had spent on his farm showed we had little in common. My father apparently enjoyed farming while I wanted a job where I could work in an air-conditioned office.
"How do you think he would react."
"Dad hardly knows what gay means."
"Then there shouldn't be a risk in telling him."
He grinned at me, but I shook my head. Matthew Sherman wasn't a man who had a gay son. It just wasn't part of his walk of life. The more I thought about it, the more ridiculous it sounded that me and Javier would sit on the porch and drink beer with my father and his farmer friends.
Just as unlikely would be a family dinner with my boyfriend and my mother. Whether I liked it or not, my life was drifting more and more apart from my parents. Just when my thoughts were getting darker, he woke me from them.
"Don't look so sad," he said. "You're much cuter when you smile."
I hesitated a moment too long, and he pushed me on my back on the bed. My boyfriend's body on top of me was an excellent distraction. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him firmly against my chest. Being so close to him was amazing, and I couldn't get close enough.
I love you, I thought, but I was too afraid to say it aloud. What if he didn't say it back? That would be beyond awkward.
"That's much better," he said, kissing me.
I was aware of what was happening between my legs. The more we kissed, the harder the bulge pressed against my jeans. Soon, his fingers found my erection and began rubbing it. His touch was gentle at first, but gradually he increased the tempo.
Our chemistry was more vibrant and passionate than before, and my whole body pulsed, hungry for his touch. Had his mother not been home, I would have moaned louder. He kissed my neck, and a short gasp escaped my mouth.
"Um, you need to stop," I panted.
There was a familiar tingle between my legs.
He pulled away.
"Did I do something wrong?"
"God no," I said, blushing. "I'm just…"
The sexy grin returned to his face, and he opened my belt and unbuttoned my jeans. Slowly, he pulled them down, revealing my blue boxer briefs. My arousal was evident, and he studied it with his fingers.
"Did you cum already?"
I looked at my underwear, and the red color on my face deepened.
"It's just precum."
He laughed.
"I've never seen anybody leak so much."
I was about to die of embarrassment. At the same time, his fingers touching my erection through my briefs was probably the most amazing thing I had ever experienced. The only problem was that I was dangerously close to losing control. My erection pulsed, and a new drop of precum moistened my underwear.
"Shit, take it out," I said, my voice filling with urgency. "Quickly."
He barely managed to pull down the waistband on my briefs before I started to shoot my load on my stomach. I closed my eyes and let his hand finalize my orgasm, definitely the best orgasm ever.
"I love you so much," I said, my eyes still closed.
A broad smile grew on my face, and I wasn't even sure if he replied. It didn't matter. I was in love, and I had the best boyfriend in the world.
Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.
[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]
* Some browsers may require a right click instead
