That Duck Was Pissed!
Wetzel, a popular friend of mine and me had just turned eighteen; he in October and me in December. I had, had the adolescent exploration, experimental gay attraction encounters when I was in school but, I was never! in lust with anyone like I was with Wetzel.
Wetzel was a comedian, very energetic and one hell of a looker. He had honey brown hair that he kept so clean that you could count every gleaming strand. His facial features were smooth and delicate and very! attractive—he had that innocent little boy look that I loved so much. He always smelled great like, he just got out of the shower. And he had a ass that was unbelievable!
Now, don’t get me wrong I had girlfriends; as a matter of fact I had all I could handle and we fucked on a regular basis—I loved pussy and I liked head from girls even more. I always picked the extremely attractive, petite girls; I loved that little ass and little titts—I loved that feeling that I was their protector because they were small and they looked up to me. I liked eating their wet, wild, young pussies.
Be that as it may, when I first met Wetzel, he in no way knew I was attracted to him sexually; at least that’s what I thought—no one else ever thought I was gay, I’d kick their ass and they knew it because, in school I’d fight at the drop of a hat and I’d supply the hat.
Wetzel on the other hand, let people scare him. When a bully in school would pick on him, he would avoid that person at all cost. When I would ask him about it—he was so scared I just wanted to hold him. I had never met any one like him and I don’t to this day know why but, when he was scared like that—-it gave me a raging hard on.
We never talked about it but, now that I look back on it maybe he was offering me a trade off in a way——you take care of me and make sure I don’t get hurt and I’ll take care of your needs, this is how it started with Wetzel and me.
Although, I didn’t realize it then it wasn’t long after I took up for him the first time he started letting me know “what the deal was.” One day I skipped school and a guy that was in another class than ours started some shit with Wetzel because he said, he looked so feminine; the next day when I came back Wetzel was setting where we always did looking like a lost puppy.
“Hey, what’s wrong Wetzel,” I ask. as soon as I was seated beside him, he was about to cry. “Has someone been fucking with you,” I ask, shaking I was so pissed. Wetzel still didn’t answer, just hung his head like he was ashamed.
That’s when I noticed a few people that sat around us staring; I looked around the room like what the fuck? When, finally another of our friends Joe spoke up and told me what was going on and he wasn’t to happy to do so because no one! liked it when I got mad—-I’d go nuts and they all new it.
“One of them guys from Evendale was picking on him when you weren’t here yesterday,” Joe informed me.
I winked at Joe and said, “Thanks man—thanks for telling me.” When, I looked back at Wetzel he was still looking scared and dejected. “That’s cool, that’s cool—-THAT’S FUCKIN’ COOL—he’s fuckin’ dead!” I yelled, and still setting in my seat I kicked three chairs and a table, at one time—-twelve feet into the blackboard at the front of the room—-no one looked at me—they were use to me fighting someone everyday and they knew Wetzel was my friend.
This is where it gets weird, try to follow me here okay? I knew that whoever had done this was already going to get there ass kicked in but, I also thought because I got mad, that Wetzel would be even more scared than he was which subconsciously that’s probably what I was trying to do–which was fine with me because I knew no one was going to hurt him as long as I was around, not even me but, that was just the thing that gave me a hard on—-and I liked! having a hard on, especially around Wetzel.
When I was done ranting and raving, I looked over at Wetzel to see his reaction; more like to see if he understood that whoever did this to him, was just as good as finished. I thought he’d be shaking in his seat. Quite the contrary, he looked relieved, smiling almost, happy it seemed. And no matter how much I loved it when he was scared or needed my protection, I was glad to see he was ok.
For the first, time and almost immediately after I let him know he had nothing to worry about, that he was ok—-he placed his hand on my inner thigh, his palm touching my cock and balls and squeezing gently, looked at me licking his tender lips and went “mmmmmuh!”
Yes, Wetzel was a paradox, scared to death of a bully and yet! had the nerve and courage to grab one of the biggest rednecks in the schools cock!—–gotta love’im.
Soon after that someone pointed the guy out to me that fucked with Wetzel and I beat him down! in the hallway.
Now, that I knew how to get a sexual response out of Wetzel, I couldn’t wait for someone to fuck with him. They would fuck with him, I’d fuck with them and Wetzel would “fuck,” with me—almost, every ones happy.
Knowing what I know now, after that first time Wetzel grabbed my dick, I see that I should’ve taken him out and got him real horny and introduced him to my cock—head to head. I’m almost positive he would’ve went down on me if I had only ask him to. But, that was back in the day when things weren’t so open—-that’s a shame, people need to do that when they’re young. No, I had to figure a way that not only was he playing with me but, I could make an advance on him and feel his wonderful body too.
One day, we were sitting in a lab class at one of those tables that hide your lower half and Wetzel wasn’t paying attention to me and I got pissed and I directed my anger at him, “what the fucks wrong with you Wetzel?’ I said, angrily. And, that was all it took to wake his ass up.
“What do you mean?” Wetzel replied, wide eyed and scared.
“Well, I’m sittin’ here talking to you and you’re acting like you’re a thousand miles away!” I said, more angry than before. Wetzel’s face and neck were turning red, he started getting nervous then, he laid his hand on my knee because he knew how to calm me down when I was mad at someone else—-he knew that when I was mad all he had to do was touch me and look at me with that good looking face with that worried look and I’d calm right down—-I was whooped.
Thing about it was, I had him going and I knew it and he had never saw me mad at him! I was going to parlay this situation right into—– “you owe me a good feel of your cock for not paying attention,” I thought. Then he would learn the lesson that when I’m mad——-he needed to put out; that he needed to submit! Yes, that’s what I wanted—I already had the best looking girls in the school sucking my dick—-but, if I could make the best looking guy! do it! I’m the King.
My cock was rock hard and I think Wetzel knew it which belied my emotions of anger which he couldn’t quite figure out. I shoved his hand off my knee glaring at him “fuck you Wetzel,” I said, hoping to increase fear in him and his submissive nature even more.
It worked like a charm. “Don’t be mad at me please,” he begged, his beautiful emerald eyes welling up with tears.
“Damned,” I thought, maybe I went to far——-I wanted to just hug him right then and there and tell him “every things gonna be ok Wetzel, I’m not mad at you honey, don’t cry I can’t stand it when you cry” but, I couldn’t. This was one lesson I wanted to make sure he understood so that things could escalate from there—he was already touching me—now I wanted him to know, I would be touching him.
He tried putting his hand back again and I shoved it off “just fuck you man!” I said, staring at him because I knew that would increase the fear factor.
He was truly crying now and trying not to let anyone see him doing it “Hey,” he whispered to me trying to get my attention but, I ignored him which really! made him cry “Hey—please,” he tried again and I turned and just stared at him; he stared back—tears rolling down his face. I turned my head away from him and I could see out of the corner of my eye Wetzel hanging his head, playing with his fingers, staring at his lap—-crying.
Without, turning back to look at him I patted his knee closet to me several times, wrapped my hand around his leg in no uncertain terms—-rubbed the inside of his thigh and let my hand come to rest directly on his cock. To my surprise, his dick was half hard! Hmmm, I get hard causing fear and he gets hard being scared—-I think I love him. I could feel a massive amounts of heat from his groin as I played with his penis, the material covering his now stiff cock was getting moist and I could smell the cotton of his pants and underwear—–I could swear there was a faint smell of what must be his gorgeous cock.
Still not looking his way but, being able to see him, he had stopped crying, straightened up in his chair—-moved closer to me and seemed to have come back to life. Finally, I turned looking at him and when he looked back I gave him a sideways grin and looked off again—-Wetzel moved closer giving me better access to his cock so, much to my satisfaction——-it was on!
To be continued……..