My First Love Cums At 21 Pt 5

I raise my face to his cock’s head, and I take just the very tip into my lips’ grip. A cheeky smile comes across his face. Then, I dive bomb down to the base of his cock. His whole length launches through my mouth and into my throat. He definitely wasn’t expecting that.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“I told you she would love you,” Jackson said as we got back to my apartment. I opened the door let myself fall onto the bed. I was stuffed with food.

“Your mother is lovely. I was just nervous, ya know,” I explained. We had just had a rather late Christmas dinner with his mom. It was actually already New Years Eve. Jackson fell beside me and sighed. It seemed like he blew all the air he had right into my face.

“Nice ham breath,” I commented. We laughed.

“You should give it a taste. It was good ham,” he flirted. I giggled into a kiss.

“So I know we were planning on going to Times Square for New Years, but like, I have zero energy left,” I said.

“Join the club! Don’t even worry about it. There’s always next year. And the year after that. And the year after that. And the year after that. And the year after—,” he started.

“Okay, okay. I get it!” I said, shoving my hand over his mouth, but that didn’t stop him from continuing on.

“And the year after that. And the year after that. And the year—,” he continued, though it was muffled by my hand.

“What if I made us hot chocolate? Would that get you to stop?” I asked him, remembering I had gotten some for the occasion. He immediately quit. His attention was peaked. I slowly removed my hand.

“I know I’m stuffed, but wow, that sounds amazing,” he said. I threw my arms upwards to get some momentum to get out of bed. I went to the cabinet and got the mugs all fixed.

I brought the drinks to him, and we sat up against the headboard so we could relax a bit. It tasted so good, and the heat was a welcome feeling. It went down, leaving a trail of fire behind, but it was the kind of fire that meets you in the dead of winter. That’s when we heard booming from outside. At first, I was so confused. Then, I realized that it was New Year’s fireworks.

“Let’s go see if we can see the fireworks!” I suggested. We both grabbed our hot chocolates, and he followed me out onto the fire escape. The metal was freezing, but we climbed up anyways. We made it to the roof where there was nothing but snow-dusted concrete.

“This is strangely beautiful, in its own kind of way,” Jackson commented as we reached the ledge of the building. There wasn’t some beautiful skyline before us or anything like that. In fact, the only thing we could see was the city block because my building was among the shortest around.

“I come up here sometimes to get away. In the summer, I’m gonna set up a punching bag right over there,” I said, pointing in one direction.

“Gotta stay ready for these muggers, huh?” Jackson joked. I smiled, but didn’t say anything. I could feel it coming. Shit.

“Do you have a quiet place you go just to go sometimes?”

“Kinda. I like to sit in the park and feed the birds. I’m pretty much a grandma,” he replied. “I even bought the special bird feed because you’re not suppose to give them bread.”

“We’ll have to go sometime,” I said, taking a long sip of my hot chocolate. Jackson did the same. He held out his hand to catch some snowflakes. They lingered in his palm for a moment before dissolving.

Then, we heard a loud boom. There they were. I looked down the street to see the tail end of the fireworks. They were bright red, and they disappeared as soon as they appeared.

“It’s too bad we can’t see them,” Jackson said.

“Oh well, I’m okay with not seeing them. I’ve seen plenty of fireworks.”

“Next year, we’ll go to Times Square.”

“Oh no. Not again.”

“Fine. I’ll spare you.”

“It’s gonna be quite the night.”

“A night that you can’t get all the way out in Kansas!”

“This place is so great,” I said, solemnly. Jackson gave me a look. As I looked out, I saw a young couple and a kid that was probably 5 or 6 walking down the sidewalk. The little boy ran to a small pile of snow and made a snowball. His dad braced himself dramatically for a snowball fight. The kid threw the snow and missed completely, so his dad ran at him and scooped him up in his arms. The mom laughed as she came in for a kiss from both of them. I felt tears welling up in my eyes.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Jackson asked quietly. The cold air seemed to be biting my cheeks. I gave him a look as if to ask what he was talking about.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing. I don’t really want to talk about it,” I signed. I knew he probably didn’t know sign language, but my vocal chords were not wanting to work. He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me closer.

“It’s okay. You know you can talk to me, right?”

“Yes,” I signed. He nodded his head and let things be. I sighed as that family disappeared around the corner.

“It’s just… a long story,” I said quietly.

“I’ve got all the time in the world for you.”

I didn’t say anything in response to that. Instead, I reached and rested my hand on his arm. I could tell his ears were open for me without him saying so.


“Come on! Push harder! You don’t wanna be a scrawny kid forever, do you?” Ron yelled. I was laying down, trying to bench press some weights. I had always been a skinny kid. I couldn’t help it. My body eventually gave up, and I had to put it down.

“That was only 2 reps! You’re not done yet,” Ron continued. I sat up, covered in sweat. It was in the middle of summer, and we were in our garage with no air conditioning. My dad was crazy.

Ever since middle school, the canyon between us had only grown wider. We never saw eye to eye on anything, but he was determined to see me become muscled out. His thinking was that he didn’t want a ‘nerdy’ kid. If I could lift weights, I’d be okay. I’d get the girl. I’d be happy.

“I can’t do anymore,” I said, out of breath. I got up and went back inside to get something to drink. Ron took my place on the bench.

“How’s it going, sweetie?” My mom, Susan, said as I closed the door.

“Pretty shit,” I said without thinking.

“Hey. Don’t use that kind of language in my house. Your father is only trying to help you,” she defended. I rolled my eyes and got a water bottle out of the fridge.

The majority of my senior year went like that. My dad would force me to go workout with him in the garage, or he’d take my phone or laptop away. I absolutely hated it at first. Then, I started noticing my body toning up, and I wasn’t mad about it. I found solace in the punching bag rather than weight-lifting, and my dad took what he could get. That was definitely where I learned to love working out. Sometimes, without him knowing, I would picture my dad yelling at me when I was punching the bag. He commented on my intensity, but I shrugged it off.

High school was alright. I was definitely ready to be graduated. I had signed up for several advanced classes, but since I’m from such a small town, they were more of a joke than anything. It took zero thought process to get through them. It didn’t matter. I was more interested in how they would look on a college application. The plan was to look like an amazing student so I’d get a decent scholarship to somewhere far away. I wanted nothing to do with Kansas anymore.

There were a few friends. The only one that mattered though was Charlotte. She and I hung out almost constantly. We took the same classes, the same lunch, everything. I tried to get myself into choir when she was playing for them, but that turned into an argument with my parents. They said that I don’t need to be wasting time on singing when I could be doing something ‘productive.’ Instead, I took sign language.

Then, came the fateful night that would change my seemingly average life. I had known I was gay for several years by that point. It came as no surprise that my parents were full blown homophobes. I bit my tongue whenever the subject was brought up. One night, close to winter break, I had had enough. It was a rough day so my patience was gone.

“Ugh, change the channel, Susan. I don’t wanna see that,” Ron commented. There was a commercial on, and it was featuring a gay couple. My mother took the remote and switched it to find the same commercial on the other channel. I laughed internally.

“Jesus. Is there no decency left in the world?” Susan remarked. It hurt to hear them say those things, but I had been hearing it for so long now that it turned into resentment for them. I went through a period of believing that they were right. Of course I did. Who can believe if not your parents when you’re a child?

“Ya know. Back in my day, people weren’t all a bunch of pussies over political correctness,” Ron said, directing it towards me as if I would ever agree with him on the subject.

“The good ole days when you could be openly bigoted and not have to deal with the consequences?” I said sarcastically. There was a burning in my cheeks because I was just so angry and fed up with their hatred all the time.

“Excuse me?” Ron said, turning to face me. Shit was about to hit the fan.

“Nothing,” I said flatly.

“Are you trying to defend those faggots?” Ron said, spitting out the f-word as if it were poisonous.

“And what if I am, Ron?” I snapped back, putting the same emphasis on his name.

“You know you’re not supposed to use his first name, Robert,” Susan said to me, but it went unheard.

“Being a faggot is a sin against God. Are you gonna defend murderers and rapists next?” Ron said.

“That doesn’t even make any sense! Do you even listen to yourself when you talk?”

“What the hell is your problem? Huh?” He yelled, standing up. I did the same. Susan was visibly worried, and she instinctively stood up too.

“Maybe… Maybe I’m sick of hearing you two sit there and spit absolute hatred out against people just because they’re different from you!”

“Why should it even matter to you? We’re not talking about you,” Susan interjected, attempting to calm me down. She put her hand on my arm, but I shook it off.

“Maybe you are!” I said. I didn’t think those words would come out. Silence fell over the room, leaving the tv as the only noise left. They looked at me as if I had just killed someone.

“Robert, no you’re not,” Susan said, clearly in denial.

“My son is not gonna be some faggot!” Ron yelled out.

“Stop using that word! Jesus Christ. You always talk about decency, but you don’t have an ounce of it in your entire body!”

“I can’t deal with this right now,” Susan said, and with that she left, tears streaming down her face.

“Look what you’ve done. You’ve upset your mother. Happy now?” Ron said, and he chased after her.

I was left there in silence. Some cheery commercial came on, and I slammed the power button so it would quit. That night, I left the house and slept in my car. I was gone the whole weekend. They didn’t even try to contact me.

When Monday came, I went to school in the same clothes from that night. I borrowed some stuff to clean myself with from Charlotte. I smelled pretty at least. Thankfully, the people at school couldn’t care less about who I kissed. I was never bullied by my peers. Finally, when I was out of what little money I had, I went back home. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

I lived at home in a constant war for the rest of the semester. College was within my reach, and it was all that was keeping me going. I worked harder than ever in school so that I’d get a scholarship big enough to support me. Ron and Susan had made it clear that the only way they would support me financially was if I went to conversion therapy, but that was not about to happen.

We fought every night at dinner. I actually sprouted some grey hairs in that time. Ron took my bedroom door off the hinges, Susan cut off all internet access I had, and if I even looked at a guy, they’d burst into a lecture about AIDs or hate crimes or something of that nature.

Christmas was just as awful. My presents consisted of a book on some guy who ‘turned straight,’ a plain sweater with the tag still on it, and a Bible. I also got a lecture about how I better not ‘ruin Christmas’ by talking about my sexuality at the family dinner.

The worst of it was when my college applications began getting responses. Every one of them looked the exact same.

‘Dear, Robert

We thank you for your submission to [whatever] university. Unfortunately…’

That’s all I had read. One after another, I was denied entry. The only school to accept me was the one in town, and I just couldn’t do it. Then, the last one came in. It was from a school all the way out in California. I about jumped through the roof when they accepted me. Then, I was quickly grounded again as I found out that they wouldn’t be giving me any financial support. I ripped the thing up and threw it in the trash.

“You could go to a trade school. Plumbing and things like that are really underrated these days. You don’t need some fancy diploma from a university. You can work for a living like the rest of us,” Ron said sternly one night over dinner.

“And it might help toughen you up,” Susan said, obviously referring to my gayness. I was still working out, just not with Ron, so clearly it had nothing to do with ‘being tough.’

“Yeah, I guess,” I said, wearing my disappointment on my sleeve.

That time of my life was probably the darkest. I felt so alone all the time, especially in my house. Charlotte was my only friend, and while I was thrilled when she got into her dream school in New York, it still stung to be reminded that I had no plan. Every day became harder and harder.

“You know, Robert, you probably just haven’t found the right girl yet. There’s no such thing as being born gay,” Susan said out of nowhere one evening. They would bring it up almost constantly. It was such a tiring subject that every time they opened their mouths, I would have to prepare myself for utter bullshit.

“That’s not how it works, Susan,” I said without a hint of emotion.

“What about the afterlife, Robert?”

“What about it?”

“Do you really want to spend an eternity in Hell? The Bible says that homosexuality is an abomination.”

“Guess I’ll roast like a marshmallow,” I replied, and she audibly gasped. Honestly, I was so over the conversation with them because they weren’t even trying to understand it.

“God is going to punish you. I hope you know that,” Ron butted in.

“You know what I find funny? You guys are always preaching about what the Bible says and what God says, but I haven’t seen either one of you go to church in years! You’ve never prayed once that I’ve seen either. Just admit that you’re both bigots and stop trying to hide behind something else,” I snapped at them. They were stunned silent for a few moments.

“Fine. Is it so wrong that I find it disgusting? A man should be with a woman, not another man,” Susan said, looking at me as if I weren’t her child. I glared at her. Then him.

“Great! Congratulations on having the balls to admit that you and Ron are just awful people who think I’m fucking disgusting!” I yelled. Usually they would tell me to watch my language, but this time, I left the room before they had the chance.

Thoughts were racing through my head. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t have enough money to leave. I didn’t have any other family that would be any better. My future was in shambles. I kicked my dresser on the way into my room, cracking the wood in it.

My eyes fell onto a bottle of pills. I picked it up and poured them all into my palm. I stared at them for what felt like an eternity. My other gripped the bottle so hard that it cracked. In those pills, I saw my parents’ disapproval of my very existence. I saw college waving at me, taunting me. Then, I saw Charlotte. I cried. I cried and cried and cried.

I held those pills well into the early hours in the morning, unable to let go or sleep. Finally, around 4am, I came to a decision. My life was in a shit hole, but it couldn’t stay that way. What did I have to lose if I left? What would I miss? Charlotte. But if I went to the same place as Charlotte, it wouldn’t be so bad.

I didn’t have a clue of how I would make it to New York City or how I would afford to stay there without starving to death, but I had to do it. I couldn’t stay in this place any longer. I remembered that Charlotte had said her parents were temporarily renting a place in the city over the summer so she could get a head start on jobs and stuff like that. That was my in. Rhonda and Chris liked me. Surely they would understand if I explained my situation.

I gripped the pills harder and then threw them as hard as I could across the room. They pelted the wall and made a huge mess. My eyes were puffy from the tears, but now, I was filled with the urgency of getting out of that Hell.

For the next few weeks, I got things put into order. I quit my job, took all of my savings out, made myself a new bank account, talked to Charlotte’s parents about it, and anything else I could think of to prepare. The hateful words that came out of my parents no longer hit quite as hard. Instead, they bounced off and made them angrier since I wasn’t reacting. It was a challenge to convince Rhonda and Chris, but after a few days of telling them what my life was like, they reluctantly agreed.

Before I knew it, I was watching Kansas get smaller and smaller from the window seat of an airplane. I told Susan and Ron where I was going the day of. They flipped out, but there was nothing they could do to stop me.

“If you leave now, you’re not welcome back here,” Ron called out after me as I loaded into the cab. I was filled with excitement, so there wasn’t any room for anger. I simply smiled and waved at my pissed off parents.

I knew it would be like walking on glass to stay in the city. All I had to survive on was my will to live, but I knew I could do it.


“I haven’t seen either of them since… Sometimes I just get a wave of sadness that I can’t shake. Like, those were my parents. They’re supposed to be the ones to love me and be there for me. What do I have now?” I said. I felt myself lying in a puddle of self pity, but sometimes I couldn’t help it.

“You’ve got me. You’ve got Charlotte, her parents, Mrs. Russo seems to like you a whole lot too. Bobby, you’re not alone here. I bet your parents will come around,” Jackson said, rubbing my back.

“I’m not holding my breath,” I laughed. I looked at him, and the tear trails down my cheeks were frozen now. I laid my head on his shoulder, and he hugged me. His lavender cologne entered my nose. It was always there, and it always comforted me.

“Thanks, Jackson,” I said after a few moments of silence. He kissed my forehead.

“Your lips are cold,” I commented, and we started to chuckle a little bit.

“Well, the hot chocolate isn’t too hot anymore,” he commented. Suddenly, Jackson’s phone started going off. It was an alarm. I looked at the screen to see that it was already midnight.

“Happy New Year!” Jackson called out to whoever could hear.

“Happy New Year!” I responded. Jackson placed his frozen hand on my cheek, and I shivered. Soon enough though, he brought his frozen lips to mine. The coldness melted between us as we kissed each other. What a perfect way to start off the new year.

“Do you wanna go back inside?”

“If you don’t mind. I can’t feel my nose anymore,” he said, and we laughed as we climbed back down to my apartment. Meeting the warmth of the place was nice.

“Do you want another cup of hot chocolate to warm up?” I asked, grabbing the packages from the cabinet.

“Yeah, sure,” Jackson replied, laying on the bed. I looked at him laying there for a moment. His eyes were closed, and he had let his head hang back. The only movement was his chest rising and falling with his breath. Something in me switched.

“Actually, never mind. I wanna keep warm another way,” I said. Jackson opened his to look at me, confused at first but then catching on. He grinned and watched me as I moved towards him.

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