**Note- this was originally part of a novel I was writing, and there is a REASON why eighteen year old Antoine has never masturbated before: When he was very young, he witnessed the beating of a boy for being caught masturbating by the dormitory's deacon (Catholic school). The boy then had to tell his classmates what he did and was flogged again, naked before them. This left Antoine scarred through his adolescence and+ is why it is only now that he feels comfortable enough to indulge in his body's pleasure.
Marius and Antoine sat adjacent to each other on Antoine's bed, casually doing homework. Marius, about six feet tall and eighteen years old, finishing his senior year of high school, yawned as he lazily ran a hand through his disheveled brown hair. His lean and toned body stretched across half of the bed like a lazy cat as he wrote in a notebook.
Antoine sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed, his intelligent eyes studying the contents of his Physics textbook, his pencil breaching the barrier of his sensuous, shapely lips, his feminine features in concentration as he memorizes a formula. In frustration, he knotted his fingers in the shock of black hair that extended down to his chin.
Antoine, mused Marius, is one of those people who're never aware of their own beauty. Marius was in no way interested in men, but he had had a strange affliction with Antoine from the day he met him.
The boy's eyes shine with innocence, captivation, and honest joy. His face was flawless, sans a slightly hooked nose which made him human, rather than unnaturally beautiful. His slender, lithe body stands at six-foot-three. Antoine, Marius thought, is erotic because he is so innocent.
Marius was something of the boarding school's playboy. He had had many women in his eighteen years. He lost his virginity at fourteen.
His fetish was pleasure. Not his pleasure, but his partner's pleasure, specifically their moans. God, nothing turned him on like moaning, or sometimes the faces they made. Faces captivated the adolescent, erotic or not. Faces with the expressions ranging from pain to anguish to ecstasy. And Antoine had a face which frequents the world about as often as Halley's Comet.
Antoine, who had turned eighteen two days ago, had never been touched. This added to the list of reasons why Marius was so afflicted with him. Once, the elder stayed up all night for an entire week trying to see if Antoine ever masturbated. Antoine never did.
Marius knew he must be tetched in the head, but he'd always wanted to see that beautiful face of Antoine's screaming in pleasure; always wanted to hear that delicate, refined voice cry out as he came.
They were roommates. There was plenty of opportunity. But Marius could never get the guts to actually do anything to his friend. Marius, with this terrible affliction of wanting his roommate.
It wasn't that Marius wanted to have sex with Antoine, either. Marius felt repulsed at the concept of sex with another man. He just wanted to see that face...it was so hard to comprehend...
But a new development may have changed all that. Antoine had befriended a lovely young woman from the girl's school across the street named Vivien.
Vivien didn't appeal to Marius's tastes for voluptuous women, but he could appreciate her appeal to Antoine. Vivien was a few months older than Antoine. Marius remembered her having ashen hair, blue eyes, and a petite, delicate frame that seemed to Marius alarmingly fragile.
Vivien and Antoine had been friends for about six months, and as Marius sat on his bed watching Antoine and pretending to work, a thought struck him. It was an evil thought, one that involved Antoine in a vulnerable state; and Marius, master manipulator that he was, knew he could make it work. His lips involuntarily curled into a smile.
"Antoine," said Marius, disturbing the other from his physics-induced reverie. "Do you happen to have a thing for Vivien?"
Startled, Antoine's eyes flickered from the textbook to Marius' cool features. He laughed nervously.
"Where have you been for the last few months? Vivien and I...it's complicated." Antoine bit his lip.
"Oh? How so?" asked the other, intrigued.
"I think we both like each other, but can't do anything about it. It's strange."
"Have you told her?" Marius inquired, sitting up to juxtapose Antoine.
"It goes unsaid," answered Antoine, smiling to himself innocuously.
"Do you want to tell her?"
"Eventually. I don't know how I'd go about it."
Marius smirked inwardly. This was the exact response he was hoping for.
"Antoine, do you want me to help you? I could give you a scenario."
Antoine's face lit up. "Yes. Oh, that would be most helpful."
Marius chuckled. So easy...
"So, you know that park down the street from St. Mark's?" Marius began.
"Uh-huh," said Antoine, closing his Physics textbook and putting it beside him.
"Take her there on a walk, probably when the sun's going down. It's a real romantic spot. You two will sit on a bench together and converse for a little while, and then you will cautiously take her hand in yours."
Antoine's eyelids fluttered shut as he imagined the situation; he smiled to himself, obviously seeing what Marius described. "Go on..."
"So you turn to her and look into her eyes, and you put your hand on her cheek and say 'Vivien, I think I love you'." Marius paused to gauge Antoine's reaction. His serene smile still occupied his face. Marius took this as a sign to continue.
"She will look into your eyes, and seeing that you mean it, she will whisper softly, 'I think I love you too'. Then your hand will brush back her hair. You two lean into each other a little bit at a time until your lips meet."
Antoine sighed, his face wistful. Marius continued before Antoine could protest.
"You feel her hands on your shoulders, holding you there. She wraps them around your back and deepens the kiss slightly. You let your arms droop down to her waist and embrace her. She is beautiful in the evening light. Her hands fist in your shirt slightly as you-"
"Marius," said Antoine, suddenly alarmed. Marius saw the other's flushing face and stopped.
"Marius, I...I think we should stop this."
Marius feigned innocence. "But don't you want to know what to do should it get this far? It's only for the best."
Antoine nodded. "Yes...I suppose that would be alright. Thank you."
A pang of guilt hit the storyteller, but he waved it off as he picked up the tale once more.
"Her hands fist in your shirt and you can feel her body against yours. You break the kiss and say 'maybe we should go back'. She nods, blushing. You take her hand and kiss her once more, and begin to walk towards the dorms. Your bodies are close together as you approach her door. She kisses you again, this time more seriously. Her hands are on your hips."
"Marius," stammered Antoine once more. "Where is this story going?"
"Wherever you want it to go. Why?"
"There's something I've never gotten the guts to ask you. It's really embarrassing, but I figure I'll ask now."
"What is it?" Marius' heart hammered in his chest.
"What is it like? Making love to a woman, I mean," blurted the flushed boy.
This couldn't be better, thought Marius.
"Amazing. Mind-blowing. It's one of the greatest feelings in the world, one which I cannot begin to describe...but do you want me to give you an example using this story? It'd be informative if you ever end up in that kind of situation."
To Marius' astonishment, Antoine nodded, his innocent face flushed, his hands tangled in nervousness. The older boy swallowed hard and nodded solemnly as he continued.
"You feel her hands on your hips and her voice as it whispers your name on your lips. You deepen the kiss, letting your hands subconsciously travel down her back. Your bodies are now pressed to each other. You feel her breasts against your chest through her cotton shirt. You tell her again that you love her, and convey it with the emotion in your eyes. She opens the door and lets you into her dorm."
"What's the room look like?" Antoine asked, his long eyelashes fluttering across his cheek as he closed his eyes. His hands shook slightly.
"The room? Oh it's Spartan, really. Beige walls, a shelf, dresser and desk. The bed is small, just like our beds. There is a mirror in the closet. You see papers scattered on the desk."
"Oh. Okay. Continue, then," muttered the younger boy.
"She wraps her arms around your neck and tangles them in your hair. You kiss her deeply, devouring her. She is weak in your arms, Antoine. You break the kiss, and she, to your surprise, kisses you on the neck. It feels good, and you capture her lips again. She grows quiet and lays her head on her chest. You hear her whisper, almost sadly, 'Antoine. Make love to me'. Her breath is a shudder as she chokes out: 'Please'."
"Please," Antoine tasted the word on his tongue.
Marius' heartbeat enveloped his senses as it pounded through his veins. Antoine told him to begin again. Marius edged closer to the other, their shoulders touch. He noticed the shiver that possessed the lithe body of his friend.
"You nod solemnly, acknowledging her request. Slowly, decadently, you kiss her. You can feel her heartbeat hammering in her chest. She begins to unbutton your shirt. You are nervous and excited at the same time. You imitate her by kissing her neck, softly sucking, leaving a small mark. You love the sound of her voice as she sighs."
Marius, finding himself more and more aroused by the situation paused to collect his thoughts.
"Okay. Your arms embrace her, traverse her back-"
"Wait," said Antoine. Marius stops in fear that Antoine will back out of the story, but to his relief, the boy just asks.
