I was still fuming as I walked up the long driveway leading to my house on the bend of North Park Road. My fists were clenched and I was grinding my teeth, a bad habit of mine. I just could not stop picturing Jerry and Laser making out in the woods across the street. They'd been feeling each other up all over, kissing and hugging, two of my teammates on the football team. I could still see it in my mind and it was driving me crazy.

Damn! I'd wanted to run right over to them and jump in, get my hands all over them, too, and join in with whatever was going to happen next.

But no way could I do that. They didn't like me. Nobody liked me, except maybe Arnie, our team manager. And I knew it was my own damn fault because I'd always been such a big bully.

But fuck, I was hot stuff too. Those guys would have to admit it. I was built just as good as them, handsome too, and taller. But my personality sucked and I just couldn't help it. I didn't want to be queer, liking dudes instead of girls. It made me embarrassed, ashamed, made me think about jumping off bridges or driving the car into the river. And I took out my frustration on everybody else.

I'd known what was going on with Jerry and Laser for some time now. It was all over the school. The quarterback and wide receiver, madly in love with each other. They were seniors, first string players, and eighteen years old, both of them, just like me. But unlike me, they were popular. Everybody loved them. And I was so fucking jealous!

They were gay and out and didn't care what anybody thought about it. How could they be like that - not afraid, scared, or embarrassed about what people might think?

I punched the garage door as I walked around the back of the house, then yelped "Ouch!" because I hit it so hard it hurt. I could never be 'out'. My dad was a really rich man, a big shot car dealership owner. He was in TV commercials all over the central state area. And he expected only the best from me. He hated gays, always talked against them. He'd throw me out if he knew I was one of them.

Landscapers were working in the big yard that curved around the bend in the road, a whole crew of them. They were riding on big lawn mowers and using noisy blowers and weed whackers that made a racket. They'd probably been at it all day, the yard was so big. Usually I stopped to talk to them. Some of them were pretty hot dudes, especially the cute Mexicans who came up north to work for the season. But I didn't even look at them now. I hoped they'd hurry up and finish because I didn't want to have to listen to all that noise from inside the house. I was already totally annoyed and pissed off and didn't need more aggravation.

I went in the back door. The house was a mansion, so big I sometimes didn't see my mom and dad for days - if I was lucky. I lived in rooms in the long west wing that covered the kitchens and the five-car garage. Their bedroom suite was about a half mile away far on the other end of the house. Between school and football, it was easy to make myself scarce and see them as little as possible, saving myself from my dad's endless speeches about business and finance and my mom's incessant bragging about all the wonderful things that get done by the committees she chairs.

Ugh! What I wouldn't do for ordinary down-to-earth parents.

I ran up the back stairs to the second floor. The housekeeper was gone and my mom and dad were out of town for the weekend, thank God. They were visiting my brother Tom up in Cleveland. He was a hot-shot lawyer there and he and his wife had just had their first baby, a boy.

I loved it when I had the big house to myself. Sometimes I'd roam the halls and the rooms just yelling and shouting, booming out stupid football cheers, or beating my chest and howling like Tarzan.

But not today. I hurried down the hall to my rooms and just about ran through my den and into my bedroom. There I dove onto my bed and buried my head in the pillows, breathing in the sweet scent of the freshly laundered shams.

My dick was still tingling and swollen from thinking about Jerry and Laser and I humped it against the mattress, groaning at the memory of those two hot mother hunchers. It started getting harder as I humped on and warm rushing sensation started flooding my groin and thighs. I groaned as I pictured them kissing, and it was just so overwhelming. But all the noise outside made me want to scream.

So I did.

"Arrrggghhh! Damn it the fuck!"

The landscapers were making such a racket I couldn't even have a good imagine in my own bedroom!

I flipped over and put the back of my hand over my eyes to block the sunlight streaming in the windows. The noise outside had caused me to lose my desire for Jerry and Laser and I was just plain pissed off at them now. They had just stared at me when I'd accidentally run into them on the path. What? Had I actually expected them to call me over to join them?

I sure knew better than that!

I started thinking about Arnie instead, cute nerdy Arnie with the surprising muscle-pup body. The only one who liked me in the whole school. He was nineteen already, having flunked a grade in elementary school. Not the brightest kid out there, but he sure loved to manage a team of jocks and hang out with them. And I knew he way more than just liked me, but I couldn't get myself to make any kind of moves on him because I was too hung up on not wanting to be queer. While, in the meantime, not having sex with dudes was driving me crazy. And I wasn't even having it with girls!

I struggled to calm myself down and ignore the noise outside, and I pictured Arnie's hot bod and how he liked me so much because I was way bigger than him. I began rubbing my dick through the fabric of my jeans again when the house phone rang, shrilling through the rooms like a siren. We kept the volume loud. Real loud. So we could here it in this big mausoleum of a house.

I usually didn't answer it, but with the racket outside and losing my train of erotic thought again I jumped off the bed and angrily stormed out to the den and picked up the phone extension. If it was one of those stupid marketing calls I was really going to tell those idiots what they could go and do!

"Donovan here!" I growled into the speaker.

"Wow, do you ever sound mean and macho," came the voice on the other end, a really sexy man's voice. "How you doin', kid. I'm your cousin Conner from Pittsburgh."

Whoa! Hearing that my dick went all the way back to super hard. Was I ever horny today! I hadn't seen Conner in five or six years and the last time I saw him he'd been here in town for some kind of bodybuilding contest and he looked like a gladiator.

I loved gladiators!

"Hey Conner!" I exclaimed. "I'm great. How the hell are you? I haven't seen you in years."

"I'm real good, Donovan. Yah, I haven't been around lately. You know, your dad stopped talking to me, so I haven't been calling when I've been here in Columbus."

Conner was my brother Tom's age, twenty-eight, ten years older than me. I'd had no idea my dad wasn't talking to him. "Gosh, I didn't know about that, dude. What happened?"

He laughed. "Meh, it's a long story. Maybe I can tell you later? You busy tonight? I'm in town for a contest and it'd be nice to meet for dinner. I talked to Tom earlier today and he said your folks are up there with him in Cleveland."

Oh man, I instantly forgot about Arnie and Jerry and Laser. Conner was like the porn stars on the Internet, a real actual muscle hunk.

"Sure dude," I said, trying not to sound way the fuck too excited. "I'd love to see you. You still do the bodybuilding?"

"Yeah, but I've slimmed down a bit since the last time you saw me. I'm not so big. Now I do 'aesthetic bodybuilding'. It's leaner, more for form and symmetry than size."

"That's even better," I said enthusiastically. I was rubbing my dick imagining how hot he'd look, leaner and more defined.

"I think so too," he agreed. "How about you? Tom says you've really grown up. You were just a kid last time I saw you."

"I'm eighteen and play defensive line on my school's football team. And I'm six feet tall and weigh two hundred pounds."

"Sounds good, kid. Are you just big and husky or muscular and buffed too?"

I laughed. "Buffed, ripped, shredded, all of that. We gotta weightlift now twice a week for football. I look pretty good."

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"Wonderful. I'm a little bigger than you. We'll have to compare bods. I'm staying in Worthington at the Days Inn. There's a Bob Evans right next door. Can you meet me there?"

I hadn't heard a word he'd said after his suggestion that we compare bods. My cock flooded with sensation and I thought I was going to come in my pants. Ohmygod! He was such a hunk. And dark Irish too - black hair, dark eyes, handsome as fuck. My heart was banging. I had to ask him to repeat what he'd said.

I agreed to meet him in an hour and I hung up the phone with my body tingling and my dick absolutely throbbing. I knew that a lot of those muscle dudes were gay and I was sure hoping he was. Even if he wasn't, spending some time with a hot muscle hunk was sure going to be a turn on. I knew I'd have to wear a jockstrap to help keep my dick in check.

I ripped my clothes off and ran out into the hall to my bathroom where I showered and washed my hair. I had showered at school after football practice but I wanted to be super clean and smell really nice, just in case. In case of what, I didn't know, but my mind was full of ridiculous possibilities as I dried myself off and blow-dried my hair. It was a little bit long, shaggy, but I liked it and thought it was cool. Short hair was boring.

Then I pulled on a black jockstrap Arnie had given me a few weeks ago. It was sexy as hell and nice and new and firm. Real good in case I got too excited around cousin Conner.

Over it I pulled on a pair of nicely faded jeans that hugged my butt and thighs real cool, and a black knit pullover shirt with an elastic waist that fit just right, hugging my biceps and pecs. A pair of trainers on, I checked myself out in the full-length mirror and I looked hot as fuck.

It sort of surprised me. I really looked nice. I never tried dressing up nice for anybody nor even thought about it. I never went out on dates. Even the girls didn't like me. Why the fuck would they? I wasn't nice to them.

But I was determined to be real nice to Conner and if there was any freaking chance he liked dudes, he was definitely going to like me!

I ran down the stairs to the utility room and grabbed a set of car keys from the rack, then shot out to the garage. The landscapers were gone now and the yard was nice and quiet. I took the Mustang. It was fire engine red and made such a smooth rumbling 'schwoon' sound that it was like flying in a rocket through space. I drove the ten miles to Worthington, a town that bordered on Columbus near the Ohio State campus, and over to the motel district.

I parked in the Days Inn lot and walked next door to the Bob Evans restaurant. I was really excited. Like, I knew this wasn't an actual date or anything, but just going out was awesome. I hardly went anywhere at all except to after-game parties. They had to invite me to those because I was on the football team.

I was five minutes early when I walked in. The place was crowded with families and high school kids, but I didn't know anyone. The town was three 'burbs away from Carlton Heights, where I lived. I got in the line of people waiting to get seated and craned my neck looking for Conner.

I spotted him right away in a booth near the front windows. He was looking over a menu as I squeezed through the crowd. He didn't look any older than the last time I'd seen him and he was really hot as a mother fuck. Jeez! His face and neck looked a little leaner and, as I got closer, I could see his shoulders and chest and arms. He wasn't all pumped up musclebound like he used to be. Instead, he looked more natural and just seeing what I could of him above the tabletop was enough to set my whole body tingling.

I stopped in the aisle right next to him and said, "Conner!"

He glanced at me like I was the waiter and he was wondering how I knew his name. Then his eyes popped wide and he looked me up and down with a really surprised expression.

"Are you Donovan?"

I nodded. "Yup. That's me."

I had never experienced anyone actually being happy to see me, and cousin Conner looked so happy I thought he was going to jump up and grab me.

"Jeezus H. Christ!" A smile stretched across his face. "Last time I saw you, you were a kid. Now you're a real fuckin' dude, huh?"

"Yah, I guess I am. I told you I was big." I extended my hand to shake his and he reached out. But instead of shaking it, he grabbed it and pulled me into the booth right next to him.

"Sit down, man. Let me look at you." His eyes were roving all over me. "You look like Tom. But he's plain and boring. I see him now and then when I'm over in Cleveland. You are really hot stuff, kid. Nice sandy color to your hair. Cool. And you sure are built."

That's when his hands started roving all over me, like his eyes. "Nice guns," he said, squeezing my biceps, and his hands slid down to my sides. "Lats too, huh? And ... whoa!" His fists pounded at my pecs. "Great chest!"

It was all happening so fast it took a few seconds to sink in that I was sitting in Bob Evans being all felt up by my older male cousin.

I edged away toward the aisle. "Shouldn't I sit on the other side?"

He laughed and grabbed my thigh and pulled me closer. "Fuck no. Sit by me. That way we can talk. It's noisy in here."

I must've had a really goofy expression on my face because he laughed and said, "Don't mind me, Donovan. I'm a competition bodybuilder. My whole life is about perfect male bodies. And you've got one." His hand still on my thigh, he squeezed it. Twice. "A really nice one."

I mumbled some kind of thanks and then a waitress came over with a couple glasses of water. She asked if I wanted a menu and I declined, ordering a coke and a burger and fries. Conner ordered some kind of salad with chicken in it, and a coffee. When the waitress left, his thigh moved over to rest against mine, and I figured the jockstrap I'd put on earlier wasn't really going to be of much help tonight.

"You really look nice," I told him. "Younger than last time I saw you. The leaner look suits you. Some guys get so big it starts looking gross."

"Yah, I realized a couple years ago I was getting too big, and it was a heck of a lot of work maintaining that size. I got into the aesthetic bodybuilding, lost thirty pounds, and started doing the circuit of shows and contests. There's one tomorrow at a facility on the Ohio State campus."

He applied more pressure on my thigh and I could feel my dick starting to get hard.

"Umm ... what happened with you and my dad?" I asked. "Why'd he stop talking to you?"

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Conner was my dad's nephew, his brother's son. My dad had always been close with his brother and I couldn't imagine why he'd stop talking to Conner.

He grunted. "Nobody told you?"

"No. Nothing. I really don't talk to Tom much." Laughing, I added, "And my mom sort of lives in outer space and I try to avoid my dad as much as possible."

"He shut me out, Donovan," he told me. "Because I'm gay. I came out to my mom and dad and they were cool about it. They've always been very liberal about things. But when my dad told your dad about it, well ... your dad did not like it. And he hasn't talked to me since then, five years now. I've called a couple times when I was in town, and I've written to him, but he doesn't want to hear it."

My heart was thumping. He'd pulled his thigh away from mine after his little confession. It made me kind of panic. Obviously, he'd been digging me and I wanted him to keep on doing it.

So I moved closer to him and pressed my leg against his. But I couldn't say anything because the waitress had come and was placing our food down in front of us. It was like my head was spinning. He was actually gay. And he actually liked me. And he was the hottest dude in the entire freaking world!

When the waitress went away, I said, "Sounds like my dad. He disapproves of just about everything, except making lots of money. I never try to tell him anything."

"Smart boy." He stabbed at a piece of chicken. "And what about you?"

I thought he was asking if I was gay too. I'd just taken a huge bite of my burger and had a mouthful. Good excuse not to talk. But he must've noticed my expression.

He laughed. "Nah, I didn't ask if you're gay. I meant, will you stop talking to me, too?"

I swallowed and drank down some coke. "Of course I won't stop talking to you." Hell, my thigh was pressed against his. I gave it a little push for effect, hardly believing I was doing so. "I know some gays. Three guys on the football team are queer."

He smirked. "I like how you kids use 'queer'. We used to hate that word." Then he chewed thoughtfully on some salad and said, "But I am going to ask you now if you're gay. Are you?"

I almost spit out the piece of burger I'd just chomped off. Fuck. This kind of talking was really hard! I was unable to give him an answer, so I said, "Umm ... I haven't moved my leg away from yours."

He snorted. "Just say yes or no, Donovan. I'm not gonna tell anyone."

Ohmygod! How could I admit it?

But his leg against mine felt so freaking good. So I blurted it out: "Yes!"

I wouldn't look at him but I could feel his smile spreading all over me.

He placed his fork down and next thing I knew his hand was on my thigh, rubbing gently. "Glad to hear it, kid. You're a really hot dude and I like you."

He used his other hand to lift up his coffee cup and he took a sip. "The boys on the team. Do you fool around with them?"

"No," I said, chomping on French fries. He wasn't eating much but I was really hungry. "But I'm close friends with one. He's not a player though. He's the team manager."

"Ahh, so he sort of adores you, huh? Cool. What about the other boys, the players?"

Man, he asked tough questions. His hand tightened on my thigh.

I sighed. "We're not really friends. They don't like me much."

"What? Why?" He looked genuinely shocked. His hand smoothed over to my crotch and he palmed the bulge there.

I could've died it felt so good.

I let out a long breath, then, "I've always been a big bully, Conner. I act like a tough guy, bust everyone's balls, aggravate them, push them around. People don't like me."

He was staring at me like he was trying to look through my eyes into my brain. "And why is that? Whaddaya got to prove?"

I hardly knew what to say. I shrugged. "That I ain't a wimp. Not a pussy. Not a ..."

"Queer?" he filled in for me.

I nodded my head shamefully. "Fuck! You know what it's like. I never wanted anybody to know. So I always act totally badass so they'll never think that about me."

"Fuck that shit, Donovan. You gotta learn what being gay really is. How wonderful it is to love men. How manly it is. How strong and tough and yet sweet it is. It certainly isn't wimpy or being a pussy, and there's nothing queer about being queer. That's just a term the haters started using a long time ago. Eighty percent of the men in the shows and contests I attend are gay. And they're some of the manliest dudes in the world."

I washed down more fries with a swig of coke. "I know. Believe me, I know. I've just been all fucked up about it. And I take it out on everybody else."

He squeezed my dick. Hard. Then he jerked his chin toward the rest of my burger and fries. "You need to start learning how good it is to be gay so you can stop dwelling on the negative crap. Eat up. We'll go next door to my room and I'll give you a helluva lesson."

Holy crap! I shoveled down the rest of that food in a flash. I figured I was really going to need the energy!

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