By: Unknown Author & Ryan Michaels
"So, what do you want for your birthday?" I asked Shawn, the boy from next door. His twenty-first birthday was in just a few days.
Shawn scratched his head and looked puzzled.
"Gee, I dunno, Rick," he drawled. "Maybe... well, how about a good blowjob?"
I nearly dropped my drink. Seeing my look of shock, Shawn let his poker face break into a grin, and he laughed out loud. I forced a laugh, too, though I was a little puzzled about why he'd chosen this form of humor, and I was a lot disappointed that he wasn't serious.
"What's the matter?" I countered. "Won't your girlfriend suck it for you?"
"Shit, she calls it a blowjob, but I call it all teeth and hot air."
We laughed again and left it at that.
Shawn and I had first met four years ago, when I moved into the house next door to his. Although I was fourteen years older than him, a friendship soon blossomed between us. It wasn't like he didn't have any friends his own age, he did, but we just really seemed to hit it off well, at first just shooting the shit whenever we saw each other outside, and then, eventually, Shawn started dropping by to just hang out, whenever he was bored.
And he got bored a lot, mainly because he attended a local college while most of his friends had gone off to attend out of town colleges and universities. Whenever he wasn't too busy with his school work he'd usually be hanging out over at my place, even more so in the summer. An only child, I think he thought of me like an older brother or something.
My feelings toward him were far from being brotherly, though. Not that it mattered; Shawn had no idea that I was gay, and, as far as I knew, he was straight. Hitting on him would likely only result in putting an end to our friendship, so I had resigned myself to the fact that the only way I would ever have him was in my fantasies.
When the day of Shawn's birthday arrived, I stopped by his house to drop off a gift for him. We had never exchanged birthday gifts before, but turning twenty-one was considered one of those milestone birthdays, and so I had decided that I wanted to get him something, and I got him something I felt was appropriate for the occasion: a nice bottle of Jack Daniels.
Shawn laughed when I gave it to him, thanked me and told me that he would definitely put it to good use later that night. Shawn's birthday was in the summer, so most of his friends were around again, and he went on to explain that he had invited a bunch of them over to his place to celebrate his special day. He didn't offer me an invite, but that was ok; I totally understood. After all, it would seem kind of odd for a twenty-one-year-old guy to invite his thirty-five-year-old neighbor to a party full of other twenty-one-year-olds.
Late that evening the doorbell rang, and there stood Shawn. His party had obviously come to an end, and he stood there with a smile on his face, holding a napkin-covered paper plate. "I thought you might like some cake. I even brought something to wash it down with," he said grinning and holding up the bottle of Jack Daniels I had given him in his other hand.
I could smell the whiskey on his breath as he spoke, and could tell he was very close to being drunk. I accepted his offer and invited him in.
Once inside, and after handing him a glass for his whisky, I asked about his party and he began to fill me in on it and told me of the gifts he got.
"I'll tell you, though," he said, now sipping his second whiskey, "I was kinda disappointed that all I got from you was a bottle of booze. I was really countin' on that blowjob," he laughed.