I had just called my guy best friend cute. My gaybest friend. I looked back into his light green eyes, and he stared back. It was silent as he leaned...down and pressed his lips to mine. My mind told me it was wrong to be kissing him, but who was I kidding. I knew I liked it, I wanted it. I kissed him back, gently, and then pulled away. He pulled me back to him and kissed me again, with just a touch more pressure. I could sense the urgency, the want and need of my lips on his. I realized I. So reckless was it that during the hour drive back, while navigating the darkened NH 4 Highway, he had twice sent a fresh stream of liquid lust flying through the air to land somewhere on his jeans. So reckless was it that upon his arrival home he had little time or interest in others as he rushed through the kitchen, giving his Mom just a brief chat and look, past the living room, extending only a wave and a warm but rushing “Hi Dad!” to his father.Having found his destination: his bed behind. More

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