bleed or something, that's what I worried
about," I said.

Bobby was obviously excited. He started to walk quicker and talk
faster. "Don't worry about that, I bought a tape that is really amazing. It
has two queers in it but it still shows you how it should be done."

I now realized that Bobby was totally fucked in the head. He was talking
about a gay sex tape as though it was a video of his favorite NASCAR
race. And he talked about homosexuals in the far-removed and derogatory
third-person. I thought it strange that he referred to them as
"queers". If so, what did that make us? Or more to the point, since I was
the one to get fucked, "What did that make me?"

He told me to come over on Saturday night at around 7:00. His folks were
heading to the shore again and he needed the day "to get ready".

III.

Bobby met me at the screen door Saturday night with a Rolling Rock in one
hand and a large glass of vodka and lemonade in the other. His hair was
still wet from his shower and he stood before me in bare feet - shirtless -
his chest still beaded with moisture. I had to admit to myself that he
looked pretty sexy.

"Great, you're here. I was just making some drinks. I thought you might
need two of them, just in case," Bobby laughed.

"I'll have the vodka, why waste time," I said.

Bobby said, "I thought you might not show."

"Hey, I'm you're bud, right?" I asked.

He smiled back and said, "Yeah, I know you are. And a pussy too".

We both laughed as we went into the kitchen where we sat at the table
drinking quickly.

After about a half hour of small talk Bobby went on to explain his plan,
"Now that we're all honest about this stuff I can tell you that when after
what happened between us three weeks ago I got to thinking that you were
right. I had no business making moves on you when I had no idea what I was
doing."

The vodka and beer started to have its effect on both of us and as our
inhibitions waned, so did our polite language.

Bobby continued, "If I had tried to fuck you that night I'd probably have
ripped you in two. When you fucked me up at the lake the only reason it
didn't bother me much was because your dick's smaller and I'd been
practicing."

"Practicing? What the fuck does that mean?" I asked, completely taken
aback.

"Well, it's embarrassing, a year or so ago I started fingering myself when
I beat off. Especially when I came home drunk and it was tough to get off,
I'd do a little something extra. After a while I used stuff in my room to
fuck myself and it felt great. That's why I wasn't screaming while you were
doing me. Shit, your dick's smaller than mine, but it ain't puny you
know. Didn't you think it was strange that I barely flinched when you
pushed inside me?"

"Actually, it never even crossed my mind. I've never fucked my own butt, so
I just never thought of it," I said.

Bobby kept on with the plan, "Any way, after what happened, I went out and
bought a tape of a bunch of gays having sex. I got it when I went into New
York for