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In the year that I had just turned 18, I had come to high school a religious zealot, heavy with the residual dogma of my former private Christian school’s teachings. The world outside those modest (but not so humble) walls was a heathen, blasphemous devil’s playground full of sinners who lived in unholy ignorance. I was disposed of the school a warrior in the name of God’s army, sent on my crusade to heal the land and drive out the folly of my fellow man. But on the outside I seemed enigmatic, distant, and even wise. Signature golden blonde hair and prize blue eyes. My features were always slightly feminine and often seemed veiled by a sadness as if I were inwardly mourning some depth of secrets of which I never spoke. And even though I was only fourteen, I already felt weary from the weight that my spiritual quest had laid upon me. Prior to the two years at the private Christian school, I had dabbled in Buddhism, Agnosticism, and, for a brief time, the more shallow and trendy forms of various pagan practices. I was trying to satisfy a spiritual itch. But it all came with the added knowledge that religion itself could never fill me the way I had hoped. I knew my current holy war was a vanity fair but I suppressed that feeling until I could ignore it.
As that boy, I came out of the the private school and into a public high school. The clash of going from one to the other was exhilarating and eventually shook me out of the daze of my Christian mindset. At last I was exposed to other spiritual beliefs and shockingly different people. I fell immediately into the currents of teenage social hierarchy, swept back and forth from one social circle to another, taking in the entire experience and learning from it. Although I was certainly “qualified”, as it were, and welcomed to be part the in crowd, I was far too pensive by nature and eternally troubled and sad. So I was embraced by the druggies. A group of young and beautiful outcasts who lived in a private world of pleasure, emotion, and narcotics. They were reincarnated directly from the 60s. They needed their drugs to alleviate the pain of their existence. Poverty, discontent, abandonment… this was their world and they reveled in their company, worshiping the beautiful enigma of each other even if they did occasionally fight violently and vandalize all that was not their own. Yet in all their self-destruction they invariably created an art of their very lives. Tragic beauty. Every one of them was so sad and that sorrow became them like chords on strings. Death itself was well acquainted with them, having come so near to claiming each of them at one time or another that it was quite a wonder that some of them were still alive. They spent their lives mourning the insurmountable condition of themselves and each of them privately clung to secret hopes that they would someday find someone to rescue them out of their despair. Someone, anyone, other than themselves. That’s why they chose me to look up to. Because I was exactly the same as them and yet I was infinitely more powerful, especially because I abstained from their self-deprecating habits and drug-induced euphorias. So powerful enough that I was their spiritual messiah in their faithless hearts. I had never before been needed the way they needed me then.
They were all different on the outside. Kirsten and Mary were best friends, one bleach-blonde and the other pale and sullen. Above all else, they loathed Christianity and the social flourish they never attained or reached out for. Russell was a poet and actor who loved the Beatles and Hendrix. He was also a Buddhist who devoted his mind to enlightenment, his body to hash, and his heart to his artistic nature. Then there were the faceless jesters. Those whom fit in no where else yet managed to find the shaded corner outside of the cafeteria and almost behind the school where we all got high. They were full of energy and moved so much faster than the rest of us. Unwise and foolish, they came and went, lasting with us only as long as they could make us laugh, then they would ban together and leave our nest to reenter the progressive pace of time. A luxury we never afforded nor wanted.
And then there was Jaymin. Jaymin Robertson. In more ancient times he would have been a god, long since forgotten, but a god nonetheless. He was strong and fit with tanned olive skin, pouting lips, deep brown eyes into which all the universe focused, and thick chocolate hair that fell in slight disheveled waves just above his shoulders. He was the perfect combination of masculine and feminine beauty. Neither one nor the other, but seductive and made for sex. Everyone fell in love with him, but no one got close to him in fear of breaking his heart any further than it already seemed to be. He was an ideal for us. Jaymin was charismatic and iconic. When he was present, everyone was different and fawned on him, suddenly roused from their despairing lethargy. Yet he never noticed. He was too removed and lost into the recesses of his infinite Travesti mind to care about the love that surrounded him. Instead, he damaged property, struck down all who crossed him, and laughed all the time. His laugh was always sincere, but very ironic. For underneath he was the extremity of what we all were: beautiful and sad. If he ever knew how powerful his image and personality really were, he could have taken over the world. But instead, he was elusive yet affable. Gregarious yet altogether absent.
I made friends with Jaymin. His bedroom eyes hypnotized me and his hand always found my skin, stroking it suggestively but always as a joke. Still, even though the way he spoke to me of love and romance and sexuality was in jest, his eyes were utterly naked, jeopardizing the vulnerable truth within. He wanted me. He wanted me to revive him and spend eternity with him, as if we two were kindred souls, vampires lost in a strange modern hell. Week after week went by and he and I spent quiet hours together after (and often during) school in the parking lot or in some hidden place on campus. The love that passed between us in those silent moments was a language that only he and I spoke. Yet still, we never acknowledge the truth of our relationship. We never spoke openly of what was going on and the emotions remained unsaid and impermanent. But after searching endlessly for another soul who understood the other so completely, we found each other in the midst of our pain that then turned to a blissful reverie. I found my new religion and he found his.
The fumes that lingered in the backseat of our friend’s car were intoxicating and thrilling. It was nearing 5:30 in the afternoon, and time continued to pass strangely and quickly. We had all gathered in and around the car to smoke (except, of course myself) and talk of politics and intolerable sufferings, taking turns to tell of the injustices that were dealt each person. I fell asleep on Jaymin’s chest, who was on my left behind the driver’s seat. When I woke, considerable time had passed and his arm was around me and my head swam with all my overactive senses. I heard someone cough outside the car. Russell sat in front of the wheel, his head rolled back and his eyes closed. Still breathing. Kevin, who was large and had black stringy hair and a thick beard yet maintained a Jesus-look of peacefulness sat in the passenger’s chair. Behind him and to my right was an already unconscious boy who had just joined our group recently and whom I never really met.
I heard the soft drone of conversation through both of the doors that were opened to let out the smoke. The warm breeze swept into the small and crowded space in the backseat. Then I felt Jaymin’s hand glide down my back. I turned to look at him. His delirious eyes glittered at me but his mouth only smirked slightly.
“You’re high,” I said in a subdued tone, my voice muffled by the strong breeze.
“No.” He drowsily shook his head and his smirk increased slightly.
Jaymin’s eyes focused so intently on mine that I knew he was aware of what he was saying. He was high on something else.
“…What is it?”
“You’re something special, Mike.”
I still didn’t smile back, only wondered what was on his mind. Another breeze swept in and filled a silent moment until I spoke again, asking quite gravely, “What am I, Jaymin?”
His reply first appeared as a coy smile on his face and then into one word. “Queer.”
He leaned up out of the seat, rising to meet my face as he looked intently into me. Locked in that gaze, neither of us truly saw the other. He was so close that I could feel his hot breath. Then our lips met. Wet and burning, soft and plush like pillows that pressed against each other in our embrace. His lower lip was luscious. His mouth slowly parted. I felt him explore me like this. One hand held the back of my neck while the other roamed through my hair. I could smell his familiar scent and even now I remember him by it. A rich perfume of smoke and pheromones.
I gave into him so easily. There was nothing so hopeless as resisting him, not that I would have wanted to even if I could. My religion and my morals at long last burned away completely like dying embers as he kissed me. And I forgot them. He was delicious in every way. The two of us leaned into the corner of the seat and car door again. My hand slipped underneath the thin material of his tank top and I felt the audacious hills of his pecs; smooth, rounded and pulsing with his quickening heartbeat. My fingertips passed over his nipple, causing it to become erect and hard.
Eventually, I had managed to maneuver myself so that I was sitting on his lap, straddling his pelvis. His rockhard penis was tangible even through his jeans, prodding up beneath my ass and boring into the seat of my pants. His mouth was now on my neck while his hands reached for the bottom of my shirt and pulled it off. Once I got it over my head, I looked at his İstanbul Travesti face, seeing how much the sheen of my golden hair tussled in the shirt as it was pulled over me had dazzled him. His mouth returned to my neck, then he licked downward, stopping every few inches to kiss and suck on my skin. He found my nipple and licked at it then gently bit. As I moaned, the sound of my voice must have made him wonder if he was hurting me for his eyes darted up at me momentarily worried. Yet he smiled. His mouth returned to my skin, biting and chewing and sending electric sensations through my body and causing my manhood to throb. It was raging to be freed. I was so hard I felt each beat of my heart swell tightly in the head and shaft and jump each time. His hand mounted the tent in my pants and rubbed it. I knew I was already oozing a large quantity of precum. I continued to moan and rode the pointed member in his lap. His pelvis met the sway of my hips and he dryfucked me.
Jaymin then leaned me backwards so that I slid off his lap. My back was against the shoulder of the passenger chair and my legs spread so that Jaymin could work his way up to get on top of me in that awkward position. His mouth once again came to my neck and he bit down harder than ever.
My hands that had been tangled in his brown hair reached under his chest to my own pants. I unbuttoned and unzipped. Hearing the sound, Jaymin quickly moved a hand to my penis. At last there it was. There was a surge of relief as I finally felt the sensation of hot flesh on flesh. It was almost enough to get me off right then, but I held back, allowing his strong grip to pump the length, slipping with the lubrication of my precum.
His hands left my cock only to quickly and clumsily fumble with the waist of my pants as he pulled the down along with my underwear, exposing my ass to him. I pulled my legs together and up to my chest to allow him to pull the pants to my thighs so that he had access to both my hole and my dick. I watched his face lovingly as he hurriedly fiddled with his own jeans and freed his cock. He was about seven inches and thick. The cock was a deep tan and uncut, pointing at me, hard and begging to be buried inside of me. I could already see the shine of a healthy river of precum suddenly slide from his slit and stream down his long shaft. He was dying to fuck me. I knew the fumes in the car had greatly uninhibited us both, but I wondered if he would still be considerate enough to enter me slowly so as not to tear me apart on the first thrust.
As it happens, he was considerate enough. As I stared lovingly into his expression of almost childish euphoric fixation, he put a finger to my shaft and wiped up as much precum as possible. He then took it to my hole and delivered it there, also taking his finger to his own cock and doing the same thing until I my opening felt wet and ready for insertion.
Jaymin gripped my hips and positioned his cock between my cheeks. The head entered me too quickly and I felt pain shoot throughout my body. I rolled my head back onto the shoulder of the passenger’s seat where Kevin was unconscious. Jaymin paused and then grunted in a husky voice as he penetrated me with one slow push that was punctuated occasionally as he bore into me, pushing the limits of my interior. Finally I could feel his manhood inside me. We had connected and my insides seemed to try desperately to regain its former size but to no avail with the hard and hot member lodged so deeply inside me. I felt my sphincter close instinctively all around the base of the penis, milking it. As Jaymin pulled out, the inches of the shaft were dragged along that sphincter which choked it until it gripped all around the base of the mushroomed head.
I tried to force myself to relax so that my opening would dilate enough for him to better fuck me, though he seemed to be enjoying the tightness of my rectum well enough. He pushed in again, his length sliding back into the hollow feeling he had left from the first thrust. And so it continued with him fucking me in and out, in and out. The cock deep in my bowels was too big for me and gave me new measurements. But as I watched him, my head leaning against the passenger’s headrest, I began to relax. This god, this wondrously beautiful boy, was fucking me. His scruffy face and shaggy hair mingled with sweat from the exercise of fucking me. His gorgeously muscled body swayed and I followed it downward with my eyes until I came to his open fly where I saw a tuft of hair. Every time he pulled out I saw a few inches of the length was going in and out of me until it disappeared to be rammed into my hole.
Just then I noticed that the new kid in the backseat next to Jaymin was still lucid enough to know what was going on. I could see him trying as hard as he could not to turn his head and look over at us. But I didn’t care. I was getting serviced by Jaymin. I was receiving his rough treatment and loving it, finally finding something Ankara Travesti that I didn’t know I was searching for.
Meanwhile, Jaymin had straightened out a leg and now was fucking me from a slightly different angle. He didn’t know until I started moaning and writhing in his grip that he had found my spot. His cock rubbed against my prostate deep inside me and my cock hardened even more. It suddenly emitted a generous amount of precum which I mistook for my actual orgasm. But I was soon corrected as I felt the energy swell in my depths of the impending cum. Jaymin’s dick still fucked me senseless and from it I could feel an emanation of pleasure that fueled the climax. The orgasm instantaneously flushed from my rectum and then my p-spot, causing me to swoon as everything around me turned to white light. Then it built up and crept into my cock where it was released, unbridled and I apexed. The cum shot out faster than any orgasm I had had before while masturbating. I could still feel Jaymin’s cock massaging my prostate as the first shot erupted, shooting up into the air and onto my chest.
“Oh, dude, you’re cumming!” Jaymin’s weary and broken voice said. Just then I saw his eyes roll back and immediately I knew he was going to cum as well.
As I shot my second, third, and fourth jet of semen into the air with as much force as the first load, Jaymin filled my interior with his seed. As he did so, he involuntarily collapsed onto my stomach. My cock, previously untouched by any hands at all, was now rubbing between my belly and his. I couldn’t help but thrust my hips and rub my dick between us. Our shirts were soon soaked as my cum puddled between us. The ejaculations were so easy and substantial that for a time I wondered if I was actually peeing. And Jaymin’s orgasm was clearly just as intense. His member wriggled down deep inside me where I could feel it spasm each time it released cum into my ass.
My back arched against Jaymin’s body as the orgasm subsided and my penis became ultra sensitive between the material of our shirts. I trembled and Jaymin’s strong, thick arms came up around my chest and held tightly to me to comfort me.
It was then that the more sober-minded friends outside decided to poke their heads in the doors. They saw us and screamed, turning to one another to see if everyone else had seen what they had. They stared intently. Their eyes never left us. I was thankful that Jaymin and I still held to each other so that his body hide my cock. The girls giggled while the boys outside were in a slight mania, not knowing whether to despise our homosexuality or be turned on by it. In either case, in that moment every one of them was in sheer awe. Meanwhile I kept my eyes downcast and away from them. I lifted my head only to look at Jaymin whose eyes were as innocent as ever beneath his dark eyebrows. He didn’t smile. In fact, he looked particularly sad. Not disappointed, but sad that we had been caught before we had to time to cuddle reassuringly with each other. I felt it too. Kevin in the passenger’s seat was roused and got out so that the seat could be leaned forward, allowing the new kid to crawl out, for which I imagine he was very much relieved. With great care, I pulled up my pants and hide my cock before anyone could see it. Jaymin did the same, covered by my pelvis as I still straddled him.
The two of us stood beside the car in the afternoon sunlight, our shirts with a large wet stain all over the front. We didn’t look at the others who only stared at us with grins and wide eyes. How young they all seemed. So immortally young. “What the fuck was that all about?” one of them said. But Jaymin and I only stood in silence, standing to face away from them and against the breeze. I turned my head slowly to look at him. Now he was smiling. Arrogantly. Defiant against the moment that would have otherwise been awkward for us. Then Jaymin put his arm around my waist as if claiming his property in front of them and kissed me.
People talked around school, yet the rumors of that afternoon were practically nonexistent to us. As legendary as our performance was, we heard nothing. Strangers continued to avert their eyes while others stared, trying to figure out the mystery of each of us, just as they always had. But as that week came to a close the following day, the melancholy of our lives caught up with us again. A storm was beginning to roll in after school let out, causing the sun’s light to become red and orange prematurely. I saw Jaymin come out of the front doors after everyone else had gone home. He was later than usual as I was waiting for him in front of the school like I always had before, thinking that he was serving his routine detention. Then he came out. An officer was next to him. He walked as one condemned by the law. He turned to go down the hill and around the corner to the on-campus policeman’s office. On his way he passed a stop sign on the sidewalk by the road. He momentarily broke free of the cop’s authoritative presence and jumped up, banging the sign with his fist so hard so that he bent it back. He never looked back at me. Nor did I call out to him. And from that day on, I never again visited the dark druggies’ hideout. Jaymin was never seen or heard from again.
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