We left Zach’s house a short time after that and went back home. Saturday passed fairly uneventfully. Josh made some serious bonds with my little brother, and my brother even said to him, “You’re like the older brother I never had.” Adorable.
We went to Jojo’s house sometime in the evening and then after that we went to Zach’s house again. This time we brought Jojo’s older sister Ciskei (pronounced ‘sis – key’). She was bored and we figured that she and Zach could chill and stay off of our backs. How wrong were we.
After the initial bullshittin’, the couples started making out again. Josh and I were on the bed, and Jojo and Mike on the futon. Zach and Ciskei decided to be commentators on the making out session.
Using Jojo’s cell phone, Zach called Ciskei to record the commentary on Ciskei’s voicemail. “And as you can see here,” Zach started, talking about myself and Josh, “the male species has placed his hand on the female species’ ass, to further enhance the sensations of making out. The female species is grinding her pussy into the male, obviously enjoying herself.”
“Zach! Shut up!” I yelled, laughing.
Josh moved his thigh between mine and I started to dry fuck his leg. “And now the male is allowing the female to dry fuck his leg, when we all know he wishes it were his dick.”
Zach and Ciskei started singing part of a current rap song; they kept repeating the words, “grinding and grinding and grinding…” I didn’t care though, it felt good, and I was grinding into him.
“ZACH!” I protested. I couldn’t believe him sometimes.
Zach and Ciskei kept laughing, and then started commenting on Rigo and Jojo. That didn’t last long, as I guess Rigo and Jojo didn’t put on as good of a show. Oh well.
The end of the night finally came, and we all left Zach’s house. We took Rigo, Jojo, and Ciskei back to their house, and then went to mine.
“Why aren’t the cars here?” I asked my sister as I walked through the front door.
“Rene had to go get dad, he didn’t have a ride home. I think he’s getting the van looked at.” My younger sister replied.
“Oh, so he’ll be home soon?” I asked, wishing the answer was no. I was eager to continue where we left off.
“Yea, they should be home in a little bit.”
“Aight, thanks,” I finished, and walked into my room. Josh and I changed into bedclothes, and I had to let him borrow my PT shorts because he didn’t have anything else. I found it cute, to see him in my clothes. They weren’t faggity, don’t get me wrong. The shorts went nearly down to his knees.
We went into the living room and started watching a movie so that when dad came home we wouldn’t have to worry about dad giving us crap, and because Josh had yet to meet my dad. We started flipping through the channels, and Josh lay down in my lap with a pillow under his head. A few minutes later, the door opened.
“Boy, who the fuck do you think you are laying on my daughter like that!” my dad shouted at Josh.
He popped up out of my lap and looked at dad. “Hello, I’m Josh,” he said, fairly unphased.
Dad shook his hand. “Tarzan,” he replied. Tarzan is dad’s nickname from way back. It’s a long, silly story. “I figured you were Josh, I just had to give you a hard time,” dad told him.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
We started watching Formula 51, a screwy movie about drugs, lying, and manipulation. It was ingenious, the story, but the movie was a little on the fucked up side. After the movie, dad went to bed. A few minutes later, Josh and I resided into my room.
I had agreed not to sleep in my bed that night, so that Josh could sleep there. I slept in my sister’s queen size with her, because there was plenty of room. But we didn’t have a bedtime, so it was really just a matter of where I woke up.
I went to the bathroom, and when I came back, I saw Josh on the floor, pumping out push-ups. I froze in the doorway, baffled.
“Why?” I asked him.
“Why not?” he responded.
I did have to admit it was sexy to watch him PT like that. I didn’t say anything, though.
We lay down on my bed and just started chit chatting. I turned off my bedroom light, and turned on my black light and the Christmas lights that went around my room. It produced the softest glow.
Josh was being really goofy. I had never seen or heard him like this. He was just insanely hyper, bouncing around, talking at 90 million words per minute, jumping on top of me and tickling me. It was refreshing, to see someone else who could be goofy as hell and all. It was made even better because I knew I was the source of this boundless happiness.
Then he did a 180 and got really serious. He started telling me about some problems he had as a child and was having now. It was really awesome that he could talk to me like that, but I was still baffled by the hyperness.
It got really late, but we didn’t care. I guess it was around 0430 when we started messing around. It started with slow, tender kissing. I had a habit of rubbing the back of his head as I kissed him, and this was no different. He pulled me closer to him, and then our bodies were firmly pressed against one another. I was so in love with him, this was all I could ever want. I really wasn’t thinking very sexually, I had calmed down since earlier that night. I just thought about how good it felt to have him next to me.
He rolled me over so that I was on top of him. I couldn’t help but smile; it was obvious that he liked this position a lot. He slid his hands up my shirt, around my back. He was really tentative about how much he touched me. I thought it was absolutely charming, and I wasn’t used to it at all. He didn’t want me to think that he was only after “that,” and it was obvious that he really wasn’t.
I continued to rub myself with his dick by sliding up and down. I stopped kissing him for a moment and asked, “What are you thinking?”
He paused, and then replied, “I was wondering what you would do if I started taking this off,” he said, pulling on my T-shirt.
I laughed softly. “I’d probably help you.”
We started kissing again, and a short time later he was pulling my shirt up. I sat up a top him and took off my shirt, my chest now fully exposed. There was plenty of light in the room, and I couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscience. I bent down towards him in a half push up position and started kissing him, becoming comfortable with being topless. I knew that he was a breast man, and I just hoped that he was happy with what he saw.
“Jinger,” he started a short time later. “What would you say if I told you I was ready?”
My heart pounded in my chest. I knew I was going to be his first, but I didn’t think that it would be that soon.
“I would want you to be totally sure; I don’t want you to regret anything,” I replied, and started kissing him again. I somewhat ignored the comment, half wondering if he just wanted to see my reaction. I kissed him deeply, expressing my love with my lips. I wanted this happiness to last forever.
He broke from our kiss. “Jinger, I’m ready,” he said simply.
“Are you sure?” I said, trying to not relay the nervous feeling I was now getting.