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After Takamiya left, Izumi went to bed and tried to fall asleep, but lying there with nothing else to distract him, he ended up thinking about that man and the day before.

"He seemed like such a nice guy, then he went and did 'that' to me."

"That" was a thought so horrible that Izumi hated to put words to it though the visual was burned forever onto the retina of his mind's eye--legs up, naked and vulnerable, his very most private self invaded.

Izumi inhaled sharply as he relived the moment, closed his eyes, rubbed his burning face and finally said the words aloud, "He raped me."

The date had started out innocently enough with the fun of riding horseback, the fabulous food and great view at that elegant restaurant, not to mention the delicious drinks.

Takamiya had acted so nice that he easily won Izumi's trust.

"Isn't that what they do? I'm such an idiot," the boy reflected. "It must have been like taking candy from a baby, and stupid me--thinking that was what it might be like to have a big brother. Big brother, my ass!"

Izumi sat bolt upright in bed at the memory of how he'd been seduced and whispered angrily to the walls of the bedroom, "I hate him!"

With painful memories fresh in his mind, he sank back onto the bedclothes feeling tearful about how things had turned out.

To have his body and his trust violated like that--well, it hurt, and the worst part was that he had liked the man, really liked him.

Takamiya's open smile, bright personality, good looks, his generosity, even his nice manners with the wait staff at that ritzy eatery-- "I don't think a person could fake all of that," Izumi thought.

"He seemed to be a great guy. How was I supposed to know he was a homo? And all that time we spent together, he was planning how he was going to get into my pants. Gah, it makes me sick! And I can't believe he thought I was gay!"

But looking back on how Takamiya acted when he called the Blue Boy Club and found out his mistake, when Izumi recollected the shocked silence, slumped shoulders, and pained admission that he could never make up for what happened, Takamiya seemed sincerely sorry.

"You can't fake reactions like either," thought Izumi.

"I suppose he really was just a lonely homo who called a date club so he could get laid and I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time," the boy concluded with a reluctant sigh.

He was now glumly sure that Takamiya hadn't planned to rape him, but if it wasn't rape, then it wasn't Takamiya's fault, and it just had to be his fault because otherwise--Izumi tried to block the thought, but it welled up all the same.

"It can't be my fault, can it?"

Tears spilled over and rolled down his cheeks, blinding him.

Someone else had to take the blame.

When the emotional storm passed some few minutes later, he looked for answers to a question that had flitted at the edges of his consciousness all day, and now troubled him deeply.

"But why didn't I make him stop?"

After they came back from the restaurant, to a warm quiet room he only dimly remembered, he had plumped back on a soft mattress with the feeling of floating.

"I was drunk, but not that drunk," he recalled.

"Feels good," he'd mumbled and drifted into a dream in which he groaned with pleasure from the feel of a hot wet kiss. He opened his lips to answer it and woke, startled, to find Takamiya's moist soft tongue slipping in and out of his mouth.

His pulse quickened as memories of the previous night took on vivid immediacy.

"This is wrong...a man...I'm kissing a man," Izumi had thought, but things seemed to change so quickly that by the time the words entered his mind, the man's mouth had moved on to other things.

And oh, how Izumi's nerves had tingled when that tongue trailed hot down his chest, looping the raised nub of his nipple round and round and round until he felt so dizzy, he couldn't think straight and all he could manage to say was, "This is..."

Did he say "wrong'? Did he say anything at all?

When the mouth slid lower to suck his penis, all rational thought came to a standstill as he tried to process this important new sensation.

Momentary clarity came during a lull in the action.

Question. How can I be feeling this? Answer. Because...

I'm naked, he thought, surprised by the discovery.

He had to speak up.

"Why am I naked?"

The man didn't answer, but kept sucking as if he hadn't heard.

"What are you doing?" Izumi had asked.

Again, there was no response, but the suction of that mouth on the sensitive skin of Izumi's penis left him nearly breathless.

"Wait a minute...stop..." Izumi had gasped, but the tongue kept licking, lips sliding up and down his shaft until he began to wonder if had he actually spoken the words or only thought them.

From then on, there had been gaps between the words he spoke, like punctuation in a slow-motion dream.

The action of the man's mouth on those shameful, shameful parts made Izumi feel like he was burning up. He'd felt too hot, so hot, like he was going to...

...get...off...

"Get...off...me!"

He'd said that for sure. A whisper, a groan, not a shout, he vaguely recalled...

...or had he said, "Get...me...off..."?

Just what had been dream and what had been real?

The head buried in his lap. Before last night, he could never have imagined such a thing on his own. That had been real all right.

Trembling under Takamiya's tongue, despite the weakly mumbled "Stop...no way...," the eager reaction of Izumi's body that night denied the truth of those words, even as he relived the sharp gush of pleasure, "I can't believe I came in his mouth."

He blushed as he remembered the taste of himself on Takamiya's tongue.

"I can't believe I let him kiss me again...and when he put his fingers in me--" Izumi's face flushed even hotter then, "why didn't I tell him to stop?"

He was so confused, as he tried to reason things out.

"I'm small, but I'm strong. I could have fought and kicked him off. Why did I just lie there and let it happen?"

In the quiet room, an answer came.

"It felt good, didn't it?" whispered a tiny voice from deep within Izumi

This was not an answer the boy wanted to hear.

He remembered how Takamiya tried to reassure him..."Relax, Izumi, relax..."

And Izumi had tried to relax, but, "It's too big. It's too big," he'd thought when he saw the size of it, but he was too embarrassed to say anything, then, and when he'd felt it opening him, pushing deep into his body, he'd cried out in shock and pain.

"Ah-h!"

Takamiya had hesitated, voice husky from arousal, he'd asked, "Does it hurt? What should I do?"

The man sounded surprised, confused, concerned even.

"I could have stopped him then, but I didn't," Izumi thought as he remembered the moment, "but by that time, he was already in and it was too late anyway, wasn't it?

Izumi had said nothing, done nothing, but only lain there with feelings so mixed he was could not choose between them. He had burned with shame as Takamiya started moving again, but then another fire built within him from the friction and the motion.

"It hurt!" declared Izumi though gritted teeth though he did not know for sure how true that was.

"Hurt so good," amended the small voice within him. "You wanted it."

Wanted it?

Izumi refused to accept that, and yet...

He had been in the grips of a feeling as close to starvation as anything he'd ever experienced before, a sexual hunger that shocked and shamed him so much that he had to close his eyes.

"The better to feel it," the small voice whispered.

"No," Izumi denied the thought. "I didn't want it..."

But 'it' wasn't over in a few seconds. Nor even in a few minutes. There would have been plenty of time to stop things but with Takamiya's naked body pressed so close to his own, passionately rubbing up against Izumi's most sensitive parts, the boy couldn't help it. The reaction went straight to his groin, and then he was lost.

Fevered kisses wet his neck, strong hands gripped his hips, cupped his ass, pulled him closer and closer, pushing in deeper and faster in a tight rhythm, slap, slap, slap...

Though he'd gasped and moaned and tried to say no, Izumi felt his body aching, arching, reaching for climax, and he came for the second time that night even as he felt the man's hot flood spurt inside him.

And now, alone in his room, aroused by the memory of how deep the man had ridden inside him, Izumi stroked himself to the rhythm of that fast hard, slap, slap, slap, tension building, rising, peaking, until his sperm jetted and leaked over hand and stomach.

In the aftermath of the lonely act, as the feeling of release ebbed away, only shame remained.

"What's happening to me?" Izumi wondered, bewildered by his own behavior.

"I'm not a homo," he declared, voice aquiver, in the silence of his room.

"Right," the whisper mocked him.

"It's his fault, not mine!" Izumi protested as he tried to quiet that inner voice.

"I never want to see that man again!" he shouted his agony to the four walls and burst into tears.

It wasn't until later, that he found himself wondering why he'd cried so hard after he said it.