I struggled trying to find a reply, breathlessly I whispered, ‘Sometimes I do too.’ Gathering my courage, I went on. ‘You weren’t alone, I wanted you just as badly.’ There was an energy between us, burning and consuming as the sun itself. When we were together, its rays would bring me a joy I had never felt. In ecstasy I would bask in them, hoping they would never end. I always knew they eventually would, over and over I would take the risk and suffer the heartache, waiting for time to pass and soon to return again. ‘Oh, I doubt that.’ He said a devilish grin splayed across his face. For a moment we revisited that first night, first whispers, first kisses, and first love. The truth was, I had wanted him then and I wanted him just as badly now, but the price was much more than I was willing to pay. I longed to hear his feverish whispers. My body longed for his gentle touch and unyielding caresses. My mouth for his lips our tongues dancing a primitive dance. I longed for his hardness. At first I shamefully tried to suppress the urge but found it useless most times. I told myself that nothing would ever come of such thoughts and desires and wondered if my father had told himself the same thing. Before I knew it, these feelings led to masturbation and to my surprise, some very intense orgasms. I was obsessed.Except for the occasional glance or the fleeting feeling, I pretty much kept my dark fantasies to myself. It was August 19th, Brian’s 17th birthday, as a matter of fact, when all that changed. It was early on a Saturday morning; I had just come in from a run and figured I’d gather up the dirty clothes and do a load of laundry before I took a shower. I approached Brian’s bedroom door with an armload of dirty clothes from my room. I quietly turned the knob and took a step in as quietly as I could, hoping not to wake him. To my disbelief, Brian was stretched out on his bed with his pajama bottoms pushed down past his knees. I froze there, mid-step. His eyes were.
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