Bending Straight Lines

Chapter 2. Bending Straight Lines By Bain Taylor Copyright 2013

**All content disclaimers posted in Chapter 1 apply to the entire story.

Bending Straight Lines. Chapter 2

One of my favorite things about myself is that I'm secretly happy.

No one knows it.

Sometimes I try to fake it when I wake up in the mornings, and I stagger out of my room all grumpy looking, because that's what teenagers are supposed to do. Besides, it makes me feel complex. I like watching my grandma as she tries to figure me out when I'm like that. She thinks I'm a messed-up whack-job, and I don't want her to know that I like life. I think that would dissapoint her somehow.

Saturday morning was no different. I was in a good mood, and pretty stoked that I hadn't overslept. Troy had said that he would be picking me up at around 10:00, and that had me feeling high.

I sat on the edge of my bed for a while, like I always do, letting my mind adjust. I still had images of Troy's flexing naked body floating around in my head from the day before. And I know it doesn't make sense, but that's why I didn't beat-off. Sometimes I'd rather have a full morning of horny than 10 minutes of awesome.

Weird, right?

Anyway, grandma had approved of the weekend outing without so much as a twitch. I think she specializes in doing the unexpected, and she hadn't even given me a short lecture or warning about anything. Maybe she thought of me as a homing pigeon in human form, knowing that I would return even if I didn't know why. I did worry about her being alone for two nights though, but I figured as long as she had her infomercials and kettle chips, that she would be fine.

By the time Troy got here, I had already shoved my clothes and bathroom items in my school backpack, and I was ready to go - like an hour before he even showed up.

When he came to the door, he looked pretty sexy, wearing a brown and white checkered flannel shirt, with the sleeves ripped off - probably to show the lucky world his great muscles. And he had on a pair of baggy-ish jeans, that had been converted into cut-offs. They were hanging about two inches low, and dipped slightly further into a 'V' just above the top fly button. It was the perfect combination between almost loose enough to look inside, and tight enough to keep you out.

As we walked out to the carport, I noticed he hadn't driven a car, but instead, a blue and white motercycle was parked there. It looked brand new, and it was the kind where the driver has to lean way forward all the time - like you're always in a race. I was glad I'd packed light.

And yeah, riding on the back of a revving motercycle with my arms around the waist of a legend was crazy-cool. My crotch was smacked up against his perfect butt, and it just really doesn't get any better. Anyway, the property where Troy lives was a lot different than I had imagined. For one thing, the place was further out of town than I'd expected. My gandma calls them 'outskirts'.

The land was fairly flat, where the 'working farm', as he called it, used to be. I guess there were crops and animals scattered around at one time, but the only thing they had now were a few horses that I could see way in the distance. They were munching on grass over by an abandoned farm tractor.

In the other direction you could see where the property backs up to heavily forested land, but Troy said they don't own that area. He said that it's BLM, whatever that is.

The barn sits a good 200 yards from the main house, with a choppy, unmaintained dirt road leading between the two. On the outside the barn looks like the ones you see on the side of country roads, and it even has moss growing on the roof. It's not exactly dilapidated, but the termintes haven't ignored it either, and it has that 'almost falling apart' look. It didn't seem like the kind of thing you could convert into a frat pad.

Just as we were getting ready to enter the place, a woman in a red dress with big boobs and big hair came walking out. When she saw us, she lit up, like someone had tazzed her.

"Hello mother." Troy said, sounding a little embarrassed.

"Mornin' sugar, how's momma's boy?"

Her eyes looked huge, like maybe she had a face lift.

Instead of answering the question, he nodded over at me.

"This is Devon, a track mate from school; the one I told you and dad about."

She wiggled up to me, nearly falling from her high-heeled pumps, and held up her hand for me to do a backward handshake with. I'd seen it done in the movies, so I knew what to do.

"Well bless the Lord's best angels," she said in a southern twang, "couldn't you just be unwrapped? You're paractically adorable!"

I don't speak southern, so I'm not sure what she'd said - but it sounded super polite.

"It's a pleasure to meet you ma'am." I heard myself reply.

"Enthralled," she said withdrawing her hand, adding, "You boys don't pay me a ghosts' never-saw, I was just sneaking a little somethin' over for ya'll to eat for breakfast, and I could nearly faint that ya'll've caught me red-handed."

She batted these cool-looking long eye-lashes at me, and winked.

"That was sweet, mother." Troy said, sounding irritated.

"Anything for momma's strappin' young mawyin." She said as she wiggled passed us, and in the direction of the main house.

I wondered what a 'mawyin' was, as she walked away.

Troy was shaking his head in disbelief as he led me through the large wooden doors of the barn. He mumbled the words 'step-mothers' under his breath, as if to signify that he had no blood relationship to the woman.

On the inside, there was a completely different world considering how the outside had looked. It's at least 8000 square feet in size. And the first thing you notice when walking in is that instead of a dirt floor, there's a thick layer of fresh sawdust covering the ground, and it almost smelled better than the forest itself. It made me want to go barefoot, but I didn't.

Troy just kind of let me take it all in. Maybe he thought the place spoke for itself and he didn't have to show me every detail. Instead he gave me a highlight tour.

The first thing he showed me was the bathroom, which was the only thing in the barn that looked new. The walls were made of drywall, and hadn't been textured. But the plumbing was in, and there was two of everything: Two sinks, two toilet stalls, two walk-in showers and two urinals. Seeing that made it click with me that they were serious about converting the place over to something that's meant for a lot of guys living there.

From the bathroom we walked over to the kitchen area. It wasn't a real kitchen, as he explained, just an area where the kitchen will be added some day. But everything was basically there. It had a mini refrigerator with a microwave on top, a single sink, a camping stove, and some cardboard containers where they kept their dry goods, like chips and macaroni and cheese boxes. There was a half-eaten peanut butter sandwich and a tipped-over coke can sitting on an ironing board, which I figured must be the breakfast bar. And next to that was a plate with aluminum foil on top, that must have contained of whatever his step mom had brought for us.

The last area he pointed out was the loft, and I'd never admit it to him, but I was disappointed. It was nothing like the one on Little House on the Prairie. It was at least 30 feet up, and was built into one of the corners of the place. Instead of a cool rail that you could see through, it had a flimsy looking plywood half-wall that didn't match the wood that the rest of the barn was made out of.

The loft looked like a place where someone would go to avoid Amber alerts. I think that Troy was surprised that I didn't ask to go up there. Guys my age usually love that shit.

The rest of the inside area was wide open space, with the exception of one far wall where there were six horse stalls. I imagined them as being places where beds could go for some of the guys that would eventually live here.

Anyway, the main thing about the barn I liked was the openness. It seemed like being outside almost. The horses or cows that used to live in there must have loved it.

Off in the distance, on the other side of the barn, I could see the backs of two heads, which I figured must have belonged to James and John. And Troy led me in that direction.

They were sitting on one of three futons that were placed in a U-shape around an old wooden cable spool that acted as a coffee table. Just across from that was the TV - which was on full blast. Football.

The two guys hadn't heard us walk in, so James was startled at first when he saw us.

"Hey, look who's here. Batman and Wonder Boy." He said, as he stood.

I wondered if that was going to be my nickname. Wonder Boy. I hope not. Why couldn't it be something cool, like 'Rip-Tide' or even a nice indian name, like 'Mad Dog'?

He stuck out his hand to shake, and I shook back.

"James, I hear good shit." I said, trying to sound normal.

"You too." He said back. "I guess you've met John." He added, nodding at the heap on the futon.

John gave me a nod, but didn't bother to get up. I was pretty bummed that he wasn't naked and masturbating after what Troy had told me concerning his personal habits. But that didn't stop me from wrapping my eyes around the sizeable junk that his raggedy grey sweats were trying to contain. Some guys can pull-off going commando, and he must have somehow known that he looked good that way.

"'sup?" He asked, as if we'd known each other much longer.

I wanted to call him 'flash' since we had raced each other on the track, but instead I said, "Hey," to him. He looked back to the TV, unconsciously slipping his hand up under his worn out 49er shirt, I guess to make sure that his body was still awesome.

James plopped back down next to John, and I knew right away that it was going to be hard to know who to look at with all three of them there like that. James is pretty sexy, but in his own way. He seemed a little high-strung, and that was a buzz-kill. But his super short blond hair, which is an even lighter color than mine, looked awesome on him, and it made me want to dye my hair lighter so I could look like that. And his eyes were blue like mine, but they were lighter too - clearish blue. I felt like the least handsome guy there.

Whatever.

Me and Troy sat on one of the empty futon couches.

"So, dude, what do you wanna hear about first: The plans we have for the frat barn, or the plans we have for our weekend?" James asked me.

I flipped a coin in my mind.

"Um, how about the plans for the place you've got here." I replied.

That even perked John up, and he looked away from the game, adjusting his huge floppy dick as if he were taking it out of neutral and shoving it into first. If I grow me a big-ass dick like his one day, I plan on doing things like that too.

Troy gave the intro:

"James is the brains behind all of it. He's got it worked out to the last detail. So credit where credit's due - it was his idea."

"Nah," James said, brushing off the praise, "it's not like that. It's actually more fun thinking about it than doing any work. But the idea is to eventually have 12 guys live here. We figure that with 8 of them paying rent to the 4 of us, we'd have enough money to keep the place stocked with food, and maybe have some left over to make improvements. There won't be much privacy or anything, but we don't think most guys care about that. They just want a place to chill, study, or crash."

"Awesome," I said, "I hope you leave the floors like this. The sawdust is totally cool. You don't even need a bed, just a sleeping bag." I offered.

"Yeah, the sawdust stays. John and I got this stuff for practically free down at the mill. So if it gets shitty looking after a while, we'll just give it another layer."

James looked totally excited about it all. If anything, too excited. And I will say that something seemed off - not just him, but little things. I think that one of my faults is that I notice too much shit. Stuff that normal people miss. But I mean, where were the cell phones? All 17 year-olds have those. And what about video games? Nothing. Just the TV. There were no Ipods, and no sign of music at all. There were no naked pictures of girls on the wall. And if there was a place to stash porn, it wasn't in plain sight.

I'm sure I was imagining it though, and there'd be a reason of some kind. I listened as James continued.

"We think there is going to be a lot of interest in the place - like we'll actually have to screen people out and choose who we want. The plan is to give a big rent price break to guys who want to move in before this year is over - in exchange for the free labor to fix 'er up. And we are only picking seniors from various high schools around - no college age guys. Then, one year from now it will be a college freshmen frat house. We're pretty stoked about it."

And that's how the conversation went. James did most of the talking.

Eventually I started feeling pretty comfortable, like I forgot the guys were upper-classmen. But it was hard for me not to look at Troy's biceps, James' eyes, or John's dick outline. All of those things were distracting me, and it's already hard enough for me to speak coherently. So I looked down a lot.

As the late morning progressed, James continued talking about some of their ideas on and off while we all watched the football game. And while he never came out and said it directly, he made it a point to include me in the plans, without actually asking me to become the 4th man in their 'boys club'. Of course the hidden message in all of that was the hint for me to join the track team. They needed me in order to ace the mile-relay sectionals so they'd get noticed when SMU gives out tuition scholorships.

It made me wonder if they'd like me if I was a plain old freshman that was crappy at running. I kinda doubt it.

At one point, James decided that everyone must be hungry, so there was a vote, and pizza won. I was glad I wasn't the deciding vote - it was completely unanimous.

So James said that he'd go do pick-up, as he wanted to hit the grocery store as well, and Troy volunteered to tag along.

And as Troy stood, he flashed his dimples at me for the first time that day.

"You like meat lover's pizza?" He asked, grabbing himself in the crotch.

"You wish," I said, "salami gives me heartburn."

"We got Rolaids", he offered.

"Fuck off," I said refusing to laugh.

OK, I sorta laughed. But I'd heard meat lover's jokes before, and they're always pretty obvious.

He messed up my hair, like I was a cocker spanial, and I acted like it pissed me off. But in a weird way, I kinda wanted him to keep doing it. I imagined what it would be like to be his pet - you know - a real one. Think about it. Dogs can lick people right on the lips, and do cool things, like stealing their underwear, or playing a nice game of catch. That would rock.

I know, I'm sick.

I walked over to the door with them, and watched as they drove off in one of the two cars that had been parked out front.

Once they vanished from sight, I walked around to the far side of the barn and checked out the forest line at the property edge. I liked being out there a lot better than being inside. The trees looked old-growth, probably there since the days of Columbus. I imagined taking off for a run through them, stumbling upon some hidden swimming hole that was so deep you couldn't hold your breath long enough to touch the bottom. Or a jagged cliff, just waiting for someone who likes to climb rocks to take the dare. Or an anceint cemetary, with crumbling headstones and sunkin earth from collasped coffins.

Normally I like to run alone, but it would be sorta fun if one the guys went with me - on a run through the forest. But I doubted any of the three would be up for it any time soon. I doubt they think that running is as fun as I do. And even if someone wanted to head out there, I suck at talking with guys, so I'd probably be a bore.

When I returned to the barn, John was gone, probably to the bathroom. So I sat down and watched the game. I still didn't know who was playing, which is pitiful. Football isn't my thing.

When he returned, he sat next to me, where Troy had been sitting, but he was quiet.

I figured that he probably wasn't very thrilled about me invading his territory or something, and he was just tolerantly sucking up to make James happy. So I just sat there and watched the game, saying nothing.

Finally, he turned to me, after several minutes, which surprised me.

"So dude, do you have any idea what you are getting yourself into here?"

Huh?, I thought.

"Umm, what do you mean?"

"Well, there's a pretty big difference between what guys your age think of as fun, and what guys our age like. It can get pretty crazy around here. Think 'Animal House'" He said.

I'd heard of that movie, but never actually watched it. He threw both feet up on the wooden spool table, and leaned back.

"Yeah, I sorta thought that's what it would be like here. I think I can handle that stuff." I said.

"Glad to hear it. It's like a creep show at times, but after hearing that you have a 'dark side', I wondered if you might say that. The three of us have skeletons too, so maybe you'll fit in."

I have a dark side? That must mean that Troy had told him about me.

I decided to just play it down, since he didn't seem to think that what I had was contagious.

"Um, yeah... the guy thing I got goin' on sucks. I figure it's a phase." I said as casually as possible.

"No worries. We've all talked about it, and it's cool. This is California, so hey. And besides, like I said, we all got our issues dude."

Well, just great, I thought, isn't that just fan-frickin-tastic? They'd all talked about me being a perv?

I took a breath.

"Well," I said, "I'll feel a lot better once I find out about some of your skeletons. I don't want to be the only douche."

He laughed.

Eventually we got on the subject of running, thankfully. So I asked him if there were any good trails to run on back in that forest behind us. He said that he knew about a few good ones, and that there was a certain place to likes to go that's pretty awesome. And instead of giving me details, he asked if I wanted to go on a run. And of course I said yes.

So he slapped on his running shoes, and left a note on the microwave for the other two as I changed.

The note said, 'Went on a run. Leave some pizza for us or you die.'

It didn't take long to work our way over to the logging road. And it was amazing running through the woods like that on a old dirt road that hardly ever gets used by the trucks.

We had been running up a fairly steep grade when John hung a turn onto a narrow trail. That wound us through some really great scenery. At one spot, when we had dipped lower down into a sort of gentle canyon, there were all of these aspen trees everywhere, with bright yellow leaves and white bark. And winding through them on the shady forest floor was a small creek that disappeared under ferns in some places, and popped up and bubbled over boulders in others.

We had taken so many turns along the way that I had completely lost my sense of direction. But after what had to be a couple of miles, we came to an opening, deep in the old-growth pine forrest.

It looked like it had been cleared of trees by workers in the logging industry, and it opened to an area that was nearly as big as a football field. There were fragments of iron and steel laying all over the ground, like giant rusty screws the size of my arm, and deteriorating cable pullies with twisted fragments of old cable laying nearby.

Near the edge of the clearing was a large structure which had somehow withstood the test of time. It had four enormous metal pillars anchored into the ground, and they angled inward towards each other. And those supported a giant platform, about the size of a two-car garage, up top. In dead center of the platform was a tall rusted cylinder, as big around as a school bus, that looked like it was used to hold water at one time. And you could see where a metal chute was used to move water from the bottom of tank to a water quarry at ground level.

John motioned me to follow, and when he approached the stange looking tower I saw that the pillar he was heading for had telephone-pole-style ladder spikes for climbing.

He went first, and I followed.

Up top was pretty neat. I mean, it wasn't all that high - maybe 20 ft. off the ground - but it still made you feel like you were up there a ways. He showed me where on one side of the water tank that they'd punched out an opening, and how you could go inside. We didn't go in there, but he said that over the last few years, he and the two other guys go up there a lot to work on their tans and swim. So inside they've got a stash of stuff like beach towels and whatever. And I guess in the winter when it's raining, they go inside and play cards and things like that.

The platform part is bigger than you'd think from when you look at it from down below. The coolest part was where the chute sticks out over the water. It's broken off, and doesn't go all the way down, but if you walk all the way out to the end of it, you can actually jump in the quarry from up there.

I just sort of kicked around at stuff laying on the deck and scouted around a little. He went over to the edge and sat, hanging his legs over the side and leaning back on his arms. I could tell that it was a sorta special place for him. He seemed all happy and shit. I felt pretty good about the fact that he had shown me their secret place.

Every now and then he'd pick up a metal fragment, or whatever was small enough to throw, and fire it off into the air, the same way guys throw rocks when skipping them on water.

I came over and sat next to him, trying not to ruin everything by talking too much. But he ended up being the one to say something.

"So now that I embarrassed the fuck out of you back at the barn by bringing up your secret, I was thinking you oughta hear mine. You up for hearing what crazy sounds like?" He asked.

"Yeah, sure... if you feel like it. You mean I don't have to hold a gun to your head to make you talk?"

He smiled at that.

"Well, since I don't really know you, I figure you're the perfect person for me to unload on." He said.

He seemed to collect his thoughts for a minute, then started. I wondered if he was a serial-killer, or an arsonist.

"OK, so my skeleton is that I like to take risks. I mean, a lot of people like doing that, but not like I do."

He paused for a second, then continued.

"I get turned on by doing the unexpected, or risking getting caught doing something that would make most guys want to end it all and jump off a cliff. Like being naked in public places, where someone might see me. Or jacking off somewhere where there's a chance I'll get busted."

"Damn." I said.

"Yeah damn is right. I know I'm weird, but that doesn't stop me from doing shit like that. It's like, I don't feel I need to seek help or anything, and maybe I should. But the thing is, when you're scared shitless of getting caught it intensifies everything you're doing. It's like mixing being scared and excited all at the same time. So imagine that, and then throw in a little bit of horny - as in jacking off - and you got yourself a nuclear bomb. That kind of stuff causes me to have some of the most mind-blowing, air-sucking, heart ripping orgasms than you can possibly imagine. And... I'm hooked on it. That feeling. So I put myself in situations like that on purpose. And I do it all the time.

I tried to just act like what he was saying didn't phase me. I guess he was trying to make me feel better about my perv status, but I'm not sure if it did.

"You ever get caught?" I asked.

"Not yet. Just some close calls."

He picked up another fragment, and heaved it.

"I don't know," I said, "it sounds sorta cool to me. I could never do that, but I can see how it would be daring and make you feel all panicky and awesome at the same time."

"I don't know," he continued, "one of these days I'm gonna get caught by the wrong person, and they'll bascially just lock me up and toss the key. But sometimes I play it a little safer, and jack off in front of James and Troy. They were shocked at first, but now they just figure I'm whacked, and they don't ever say anything about it. I like it when they watch me."

I almost told him that I knew about that, but I decided against it.

"That part's cool at least. It's like you have a permission slip." I said.

He shrugged a shoulder.

"So dude," he said, "if you think you've got problems trying to hook up with a staight dude, imagine what it's like trying to find a chick that will give you head on a crowded school bus, or a hand-job under your desk at school. I'm a freak."

After that remark, I realized that we were both screwed... in life that is. But I would have traded places with him. Someday, he could chill out with the thrills, settle down and have a family. I'm not so sure that was in my future though.

He looked at his wrist, like he was looking at an imaginary watch.

"So dude, I know those other two, and if we don't head back, our share of the pizza is history."

The subject was over, just that fast.

I nodded my head in agreement. I was starved, and hitting the trail was a good excuse to be less serious.

He stood up, and walked towards the chute that hung out over the water below.

"That's the fastest way down. Just do like me." He said.

He shucked his clothes, held them out over the side of the platform, and dropped them down so that they fell just next to the water's edge.

It all happened so fast, that I barely had a chance to think. But I did get a chance to check out this senior ass, and it was every bit as great as Troy's - if that's possible.

And without even hesitating walked to the end of the chute, and jumped.

It took me a little longer, but I threw my clothes down there too, and bravely took the plunge.

We splashed around for a while just to get the heat off, and it was pretty fun. He dunked me a few times, but I didn't do it back, since it's probably not cool for a freshman to do that to an older guy. And I thought about what he'd said about himself. I'm not sure why he admitted everything to me. Maybe admitting it was a thrill, like the chances he likes to take, and it gave him a rise or something to open up to a near stranger like me.

I had gotten out of the water first, and don't ask me why, but I was suddenly in the mood to test his fear factor a little. What can I say, I'm 14 and I'm supposed to do stupid things.

After he got out of the water, and after the sun had dried us off, he started to reach for his shorts. So I asked him what he was doing.

"Um, I'm getting dressed?" He replied.

I grabbed my tee-shirt and running shorts, and rolled them tightly together.

"Too bad," I said, "I was hoping I'd have someone to run buff with. Ever heard of long distance streaking?"

He got this awesome evil grin.

"What the fuck? Dude, you're being serious?"

I put on my running shoes, and as I tied up the laces I said:

"Yep, really. I just invented it."

I've never seen a dude get so stoked. And I'll admit, I was doing it all for him. I mean, I'd never normally run through the forest naked. No way. But knowing that it would be a turn on for him and his 'secret' side, I went for it. Hot guys cause me to do weird shit, it seems.

It didn't take me long to decide I liked it - running through the trees like that. And he had been right, there is a certain thrill to the risk of getting caught. I'm sure I'd never felt that alive before.

There were a few times that I nearly tripped over my feet though. Think about it. He was running in front of me.

We took a different trail back towards the barn, so everything was uncharted territory. And it didn't take long for me to get my bearings back. We were headed in the direction of the main highway that leads to the cut-off road to Troy's place.

It's not the busiest road in the world, but on weekends like today, you could hear cars in the distance zipping by.

And as the road came into view, and even though it was a good 100 yards away, people driving by would be able to see us if they happened to look in our direction.

And John just kept running. I came close to chickening out at my own game. But there was no way I was going to let him think that I'm a wimpy punk kid, so I kept up, staying just a few feet behind him - naked for the world to see.

By the time he came to a stop, we were close enough so that you could actually see people inside of their cars as they drove by. And while the trees provided some cover, it wasn't much.

"Feel it?" He asked. "Dude, feel that?"

"Hell yeah, I do." I said, nearly panicked. But it was a good scary.

He turned toward the road, fully exposing himself to whatever eyes may have found him.

I stepped in close behind him, mostly to take cover. His heavy breathing was beyond what the running had caused. He was turned-on.

I reached my hand around his waist.

"Maybe we should get out of here " I said, tugging him in my direction

It must have been the touch of my hand that set him off, because he took hold of it, and pressed it tighter against his hard stomach.

We both dropped the clothes we were carrying at the same time.

And once he knew my hand was frozen there, he dropped his arm to his side.

My cock surged, as it brushed lightly against his sweaty butt cheeks, and that single sensation alone caused all caution I'd had to evaporate into thin air.

I moved my hand up from his awesome abs, to his chest. His breathing intensified, and I could feel his heart beating like mad.

"Fuck yeah." He mumbled under his breath.

It was like his permission - those two words - and I began to move my hand over his sculpted body, up and down, dipping a little lower every time. Crazy as it sounds, he loved it.

Nothing mattered just then, except for him. This was what he lived for. Dangerous thrills. And on the final slide down his sexy stomach, I let my hand wrap around his throbbing hard-on. Don't ask me why, and he could have punched my lights out.

The feel of my forbidden touch sent him into instant euphoria, and he was making these cool moaning sounds, like he had left earth.

On the long stretch of highway, and to the far left of our view, A car pulled off to the side of the road, and I felt his cock swell even harder.

I tightened my grip and began to move my hand up and down. I wrapped my other arm around his waist, and pulled myself against him, so that now my hardened dick was flat between his powerful and flexing ass-cheeks.

He moaned loudly with time, and uncaringly.

"They're gonna see you..." I whispered in his ear.

He began to buck back against me, and then forward into my hand, helping me to pump him.

A man got out of the car...

I moved my hand faster.

"Oh my God, oh God..." He hissed.

"That man's gonna see you cum," I whispered.

I felt his fear nearly expload, as he watched the man check on a rear tire.

I moved my free hand from his waist down to his over-sized balls, and held them as he shuttered in the overwhelming shock of the moment. And I continued doing that to him for several minutes. I was in control now, and it made me feel like I owned him. I think I did.

"Devon... oh fuck... I might have to cum... oh fuck."

"The man is watching," I said.

This time he groaned in pleasure even louder, and it echoed through the woods.

"Dude," He said gasping.

I felt his cock expand further into a throbbing frenzy as he bucked into my hand and shot a massive, arching strand of cum, that twisted in the open air like a fleeing spirit.

His hunked-up body took over, and with each thrust he used my hand as a sweaty vacuum.

My own raging cock was slipping ever deeper into the slippery crack between his muscular cheeks, and I fought it. I swear to God.

Each of his next blasts sent shockwaves through my fingers as I felt his heart pump blood through waves of terrified bliss.

His hard-on sent off still another rocket as he let my hand help him shoot. And his is tightly clamped ass muscles grabbed my cock and nearly ripped out my soul, as I hung on for my life and tried not to cum.

And as the last of his sperm flowed over my clenched fist, he moaned words that had no meaning. Jumbled words. It was awesome.

When it was all over, we pulled away from each other, and we were doubled-over; our hands on our knees, panting like crazy.

He spoke through his breaths as he recovered.

"Devon. YOU are... fucking INSANE."

I couldn't think of the right reply, but I should have just agreed with him. 'Insane' nailed it - because that's what it was.

He looked at me with a straight face, and I couldn't read it.

He picked up his clothes, and I waited for him to cuss me out for taking things so far. I fucked up, and I knew it. My fear was replaced by guilt; I had no way out, and I was pretty sure I knew what was coming next.

And then he said:

"But Damn, dude, we seriously gotta go on more runs."

And with that, he tossed on his tee-shirt and flipped his red dripping hair from his eyes; his body still glowing and hot.

I stood there with every hair on my body still on end, trying to control the lust that never escaped my still-pounding hard-on. And as I sucked in his words of approval, I felt myself smile deep inside. But I didn't show it.

"Are we outta here, or what?" He asked, pulling on his running shorts, and stuffing them with his still-twitching senior cock.

I reached for my clothes, and threw them on, as I tried to get my act together.

"I think I smell pizza." I suggested in my shaky reply.

But the only smell in the air was of sex, and I followed it as he took off running.

Thanks for reading this far! This chapter came out kind of crappy and weird, but that's what I get for typing along with no plan, lol. I promised myself I'd write three of these, so I'll try to make the final chapter have a decent ending. And thanks again for the comments from the first one. I loved that!

Cheers, bain

*Here's my email just in case you feel like commenting on this one: dozedaze@gmail.com

I hope you like the story so far. Thanks again for reading. Cheers! Bain

***I'd love to hear your comments and ideas: dozedaze@gmail.com.