Blake

It happens to everyone - they say.

It's nothing special.

Nothing to worry about.

But when it happens to you, it still comes as a big shock.

You first argument with your new boyfriend.

With Blake and me, I thought it would never happen.

After all, we were both so well suited to each other - both 18, good looking I guess, and with everything in common.

Well, perhaps not one thing.

Blake had been "out" with his family and friends since he was in ninth grade. He had absolutely no problems at all with being gay - whereas I was still so far at the back of the closet that you'd have needed to send in a search party with a week's supplies to find me.

But, after living with him for the past four months, I'd finally agreed with Blake's suggestion that perhaps, after all, I ought to bring myself to tell my folks the truth - so I'd invited mom and dad over to dinner that night and was planning to spill the beans.

I only made one condition when I'd gone along with my boyfriend's suggestion.

He'd have to behave himself.

If dad was going to have to get to grips with the fact that he was gaining a son-in-law rather than a daughter-in-law, then he couldn't be expected, on top of that, to have to face up to the real Blake all at once.

The real Blake? Well, much as I loved the guy, even I had to admit that he could be loud and outspoken - especially on the subject of Gay Rights - yet sulky and moody all at the same time.

So Blake promised that he'd cut his hair, try to look his best, wear a suit and generally behave respectably - at least for that night.

But, in retrospect, it was that night that was the problem.

Because, not knowing any better in the depths of my closet, I'd scheduled dinner for the evening of our city's Gay Pride march - in which, since the age of just 14, Blake had taken a prominent part every year.

I couldn't believe it. He was hot, sweaty and making no attempt to get to the shower and change out of the stuff he'd worn on the march - including a pair of rainbow wristbands that I knew would drive dad absolutely mad.

But the worst thing was Blake's face.

He'd been out in the hot summer sun all day and had a face the colour of a strawberry.

I could hear my dad now, laughing himself silly as he made one of his un-funny "jokes".

"You look kinda like a strawberry, Blake… So you and Nick sure are fruits after all!"

I went mad.

How the hell could my Blake not have noticed the effect the sun was having on him?

How could he create a good impression on mom and dad when he himself looked like a very close relative of the pot roast I'd prepared for their dinner?

"Hey, Nick", he replied.

"Cool it.

"It ain't my fault, man.

"After the march I looked for a pharmacist to get some balm for my face but they were all closed for the day.

"C'mon, man. Give me a break."

Blake could see that I was still furious. But he knew me well enough, by now, to have a good idea of how to get me to lighten up.

He shoved the baby's dummy that he always wore around his neck into his mouth and started making gurgling sounds.

"Daddy Nicky cross baby Blakey (gurgle)…. Baby Blakey sorry (more gurgling)… Daddy Nicky f'gives Baby Blakey? (Even more gurgles)"

I wanted to laugh but, with great difficulty, managed to keep a straight face instead.

I'd worked darned hard all day to make this evening a success and he'd need to put a lot more effort into getting back into my good books.

He did.

He stood up.

"Well, I guess I'd better get changed for your folks", he said.

And that's what he started to do.

But far more slowly and sexily than he needed to.

He lifted his shirt and lowered his pants…

 He turned his back on bent and me over to take off his socks…

The effect was, I knew, 100% intentional…

And then he turned back round and shoved his hard and obviously eager dick right in my face.

I surrendered.

"OK, OK", I said.

"Just get dressed as soon as you can."

Blake look relieved - though maybe a little disappointed, too, that I hadn't given him the chance to go a little further with his act.

"Oh, and by the way…", I added as I slowly pushed down the zipper of my own pants and pulled my own stiff dick out of my boxers.

"…I think I may have found some pretty good balm to put on that sunburn."

I was happy to stay home all day and prepare the food - but by 6pm I was starting to get really worried. Not about Blake - I knew he could take care of himself - but about the fact that mom and dad would be arriving in less than 90 minutes.

At 6.15pm Blake marched noisily into the living room and threw himself on the sofa.