Peter considered all the answers he could give that wouldn’t traumatize the young man, but then decided that the truth as the best and only answer.
“I think that he saw me for what I was, or maybe I was just another eager, vulnerable kid to him. I did a few weeks of after school practice with him, and he kept telling me I was going to make the team. The week before tryouts, he kept me for an extra hour and when I was in the locker room changing he came in. There was no one else there - all the other kids had left. He told me that he wanted me - that he knew what I was and that he understood.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“Yeah - but not deliberately. It wasn’t like he forced me. It was just...ugly.” Peter clenched and unclenched his fists. “I didn’t like him - I mean, I didn’t dislike him. But I was curious and I wanted someone to touch me the way I wanted to be touched. But doing it in a cold, smelly locker room - with someone who really didn’t care about me made it all wrong.”
Neal didn’t say anything.
“I don’t want that for you. You are smart - the smartest person I’ve ever met.” Peter was careful not to call Neal a kid - because this was not a discussion for kids. “You have so much promise, so much potential. You do something like you’re thinking about - it could ruin you. Do you understand that?”
“I … I guess so.” Neal shrugged, clearly uncomfortable that Peter had brought the discussion back to him.
“Neal - you go to the city and hook up with an older guy. What do you think is going to happen? Is he going to take the time to make you want it as much as he does? Or are you thinking about going into the men’s room at letting the guy put his dick in your mouth - on your knees in a room that stinks of piss and semen, surrounded by a dozen other guys doing the same thing.”
Neal flushed beet red, uncomfortable with Peter’s frankness.
“Neal - that’s not you and it’s not for you. You deserve better than that.”
“But there’s no one here. I hate the guys at school - they’re all idiots and jocks and there’s no one to talk to who understands me ... except you.” Neal’s speech was breathless and all of a sudden, Peter could see the wheels and gears in the young man’s head locking into place.
Between one moment and the next, Neal lauched himself at Peter, burrowing close, his hands everywhere, his mouth everywhere, a bundle of hot temptation.
“Neal, Neal - stop. Stop it.”
“No - Peter - don’t you see. It’s perfect. You understand - you know what it’s like. You can teach me, you can show me. You won’t hurt me. I know that. Please, please, please.”
Neal was clinging to him, climbing on him - offering himself in ways that Peter would never even let himself even dream about. It would have been so damn easy. He could make it right for Neal, he could show him, teach him - bring him happiness and pleasure.
But it would be wrong. Wrong beyond imagination.
He grabbed hold of Neal’s wrists and tried to push him away. “Neal - no. You have to stop. Please.”
They grappled - Neal trying to climb on top of him, rubbing against him, and Peter doing everything he could to keep away. It shouldn’t have been that difficult, Peter had the advantage of height and weight and strength, but Neal was like an eel. Finally, Neal slid off the couch and crouched at Peter’s knees, eyes wide, mouth opened, hands on Peter’s spread thighs. He closed his eyes at the provocative picture the young man made.
“Neal - listen to me. You have to stop this, now.”
“Why - why. Don’t you like me? Peter?” Neal used his first name again, the way he said it sent chills down his neck.
“Neal - I like you. Of course I do - you are my student, someone I am very proud to know. But what you are asking for is wrong.”
Re: Teach Me - Part VII
“I think that he saw me for what I was, or maybe I was just another eager, vulnerable kid to him. I did a few weeks of after school practice with him, and he kept telling me I was going to make the team. The week before tryouts, he kept me for an extra hour and when I was in the locker room changing he came in. There was no one else there - all the other kids had left. He told me that he wanted me - that he knew what I was and that he understood.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“Yeah - but not deliberately. It wasn’t like he forced me. It was just...ugly.” Peter clenched and unclenched his fists. “I didn’t like him - I mean, I didn’t dislike him. But I was curious and I wanted someone to touch me the way I wanted to be touched. But doing it in a cold, smelly locker room - with someone who really didn’t care about me made it all wrong.”
Neal didn’t say anything.
“I don’t want that for you. You are smart - the smartest person I’ve ever met.” Peter was careful not to call Neal a kid - because this was not a discussion for kids. “You have so much promise, so much potential. You do something like you’re thinking about - it could ruin you. Do you understand that?”
“I … I guess so.” Neal shrugged, clearly uncomfortable that Peter had brought the discussion back to him.
“Neal - you go to the city and hook up with an older guy. What do you think is going to happen? Is he going to take the time to make you want it as much as he does? Or are you thinking about going into the men’s room at letting the guy put his dick in your mouth - on your knees in a room that stinks of piss and semen, surrounded by a dozen other guys doing the same thing.”
Neal flushed beet red, uncomfortable with Peter’s frankness.
“Neal - that’s not you and it’s not for you. You deserve better than that.”
“But there’s no one here. I hate the guys at school - they’re all idiots and jocks and there’s no one to talk to who understands me ... except you.” Neal’s speech was breathless and all of a sudden, Peter could see the wheels and gears in the young man’s head locking into place.
Between one moment and the next, Neal lauched himself at Peter, burrowing close, his hands everywhere, his mouth everywhere, a bundle of hot temptation.
“Neal, Neal - stop. Stop it.”
“No - Peter - don’t you see. It’s perfect. You understand - you know what it’s like. You can teach me, you can show me. You won’t hurt me. I know that. Please, please, please.”
Neal was clinging to him, climbing on him - offering himself in ways that Peter would never even let himself even dream about. It would have been so damn easy. He could make it right for Neal, he could show him, teach him - bring him happiness and pleasure.
But it would be wrong. Wrong beyond imagination.
He grabbed hold of Neal’s wrists and tried to push him away. “Neal - no. You have to stop. Please.”
They grappled - Neal trying to climb on top of him, rubbing against him, and Peter doing everything he could to keep away. It shouldn’t have been that difficult, Peter had the advantage of height and weight and strength, but Neal was like an eel. Finally, Neal slid off the couch and crouched at Peter’s knees, eyes wide, mouth opened, hands on Peter’s spread thighs. He closed his eyes at the provocative picture the young man made.
“Neal - listen to me. You have to stop this, now.”
“Why - why. Don’t you like me? Peter?” Neal used his first name again, the way he said it sent chills down his neck.
“Neal - I like you. Of course I do - you are my student, someone I am very proud to know. But what you are asking for is wrong.”