The answer was immediate with a phone number and reference to Mr. Wilson. I replied. He sounded younger than I had expected. A date was set and he would inform me of the address and time by email. It came the next morning, just four days away, a Wednesday, July 13th. Nothing else planned, nothing else would be planned.

Finally, the day came. Mother saw that I was nervous at lunch. My 'appointment' was at 1:30. “You appear nervous, jumpy.” she stated. “What's bothering you?”

I was trying to act normal; but I was nervous. I answered the best I could, “Mom, this is big for me. I am going away to college. I may never live at home again. If I marry and have a family, how am I going to support them? It is just scary looking forward.”

“We all felt that way at your age. It is a big responsibility that you have to meet maturely and confidently.” She touched my hand. “What are you doing this afternoon?”

“Some of us are meeting at the athletic field at UCLA to play softball. I'll be back by four or so.”

Leaving the room, she remarked, “Have a good time.”

“I always do.” I answered. Nothing now between me and Mr. Wilson's house. Actually, he lived across Sunset Blvd. in the Bel Air area on Bellagio Road, maybe a mile away. I had my own car, an old red Honda Civic. I left at one-fifteen and knew through Google Maps exactly where it was and what driveway to turn into. It turned out to be near the Bel Air Country Club golf course. Old, two story sort of mansion with four tall chimneys. I parked in the circular gravel drive and rang the door bell. Mr. Wilson answered. He was young, maybe in his thirties. “Good to meet you, Robert. We will be having our game in the basement play room. It is around back.” He led me around the house to a stairway leading down under it. Really nice, well kept yard. No other houses were visible. Tall trees kept the property isolated. He led me down and unlocked the door, turning the lights on. “Two others will be joining us shortly. One that you will be dead with and one who is going to have control of the two of you. Have you ever done anything like this before?”

Gulp, “No, sir.”

“I can imagine that you are pretty nervous and excited about what might happen to you?”

“Yes, sir. Very nervous.”

The basement was like a nice, large room, with a pool table as you entered and a lounging area at the other end.

“We'll be down here. No one will disturb or hear us. Don't worry about spoiling the carpet or furniture, I have a steam cleaner that makes it like new and sterilizes also. I mention that because I don't want you to worry about anything. ”

Thinking, 'I'll be naked in here for an hour with another boy, and Mr. Wilson will be watching, touching? I don't know... What does he mean by anything? He might have to use a steam cleaner to clean up after me? Shit, this is scary.' I pictured myself naked, laid out on that shaggy blue carpet and a chill went through me. Would I get a boner? Would they make me cum? I don't know. Maybe I will be too scared.'