A very nice guy (Rob) has edited my last couple of chapters for me so when you notice the improved grammar and punctuation etc you can rest assure that I haven't gotten any smarter, it's just that I've received the great help of an editor. Thank you, Rob!
GEOFF'S POINT OF VIEW
chapter 4 by Donny Mumford
The alarm sounds on my bedside table so I sleepily open one eye to see the time; hmmm, it's too late to be a school day so this must be Saturday, a work day. Consciousness rushes in and I lay there in bed rewinding the events of Friday afternoon with Bruce; then fast forward it in my head recalling the highlights and oh my God did we ever have a scalding hot sexy time. The memories are so hot I run my tongue around my lips and pull on my semi-hard dick a few times. A thought of doing a nice jerk-off flashes through my head; then quickly back to reminiscing about yesterday. Of all the different aspects of that sexy afternoon, my favorite was fucking Bruce as he hung from his wrists in the doorway, me stationary behind him manipulating his body forward and back, my boner sliding up inside him then back out until the swollen head of my cock catches at his tightened sphincter muscle. What a rush of sensations! My climax had been out of this world too, cum gushing out of Bruce's asshole as fast as I was pumping it in. Grunting now, then adjusting my cock, I recalled the sexy odor coming off his body as he helplessly swung back and forth moaning and begging me to stroke his cock for him. That little cock as hard as a steel spike, sticking straight out from his shaved crotch, dripping clear precum, drip drip drip. And his sexy legs, and those stinky feet of his; stinky in the most erotic way imaginable! That's the hottest sex I've ever been a part of; it makes my heterosexual experiences seem like child's play. Ya gotta love Bruce's leather toys and his fetishes; jeez, what a hot combination!
Then I remember my bud Dajuan's problem. He's out of commission with food poisoning this weekend, the poor bastard. On top of that Bruce is going to be busy tonight with a family dinner, somebody's birthday or something. Damn, I'm abandoned on a Saturday night, what a bummer! But wait, I almost forgot I have a so-called "date" with Garrett tonight. Ha, it makes me smile remembering his call yesterday, complaining that it's unfair of me to date his sister instead of him. That boy doesn't seem to mind groveling, no pretenses with Garrett. Just when I thought I'd have nothing to do Saturday night, Garrett, of all people, pops-up to save the day. Going out with him might be a lot of fun although I haven't yet given much thought as to where we'll go or what we'll do. Sighing deeply, resigned that I don't have enough time to enjoy a leisurely whack-off, I slip out of bed and pad down the hall in bare feet to do my daily ritual in the hall bath. My grandparents won't be up for another hour so I have this precious little bit of time to myself in the bathroom, no one rapping on the door to hurry me up. Man, I'm jealous of Dajuan and Bruce because they both have their own private bathroom... life ain't fair!
In the shower I think about Bruce and me at the movies last night and how strange it was that both of us were laughing, eating popcorn, and chatting like two normal friends when just a couple of hours earlier we'd been naked and wildly into our fetish-induced sex play; it's as if we existed in two different worlds. Bruce, however, tends to overlap the two worlds by being deferential to me in all matters and repeatedly bumping into me on purpose to whisper how much he loves me. It's obvious Bruce enjoys the casual physical contact with me and I should be flattered except I'm not in love with him so it can be awkward at times. I almost wish I was in love so I could return his affection instead of losing my temper and snapping at him, but what the hell, you can't force yourself to love someone. Actually, his fawning behavior used to annoy me a lot more than it does now because he's such a good kid and I do like him a lot. And boy, he's funny with that self-described "toxic outlaw" routine of his when he's nothing of the sort. He's got that nutty idea in his head because of two incidents that happened around the same time last year. Both incidents involved driving and police intervention; when mixed together they're two combustible ingredients for sure. They also represent the total extent of Bruce's so-called outlaw activities. He's been dressing himself mostly in black since then and tries to act tough with everyone except me and Dajuan; Bruce likes games. The two of us know he's a sweetheart and so do most of the other kids in school, but Bruce chooses to see it differently.
Anyway, I'm cleaned-up and dressed and ready to face the world so it's off to work I go driving my grandparents' old Chevy. They won't need their car today, but they might need it tonight so Garrett's borrowing his mother's car for us to use on our date. He'll pick me up at seven, then I don't know what we're going to do. Who the hell knows what to expect with Garrett; he's already admitted he's queer for me and then there's that time we made-out and he creamed in his jeans; a random act to say the least. Those things were basically unexpected but now that I know how hot Garrett is for me, I gotta believe we'll be involved in some sexual endeavor before the night is over. He's wicked cute and his sister is too, but still it feels a little weird to be dating a brother and sister. My goal is to fuck both of them of course and unless I've read Garrett totally wrong it'll be him who gets fucked first, meaning tonight.
Pulling into Starbucks' parking lot I see the line of customers stretching to the door; nothing unusual there. I'm on second shift today; first shift begins at five-thirty in the morning getting things set-up to open the doors at six. This month I'm working nine till five. The best thing about my current shift is T.J. Jersey who's the assistant manager. That's his name, T.J., but I call him Tom because that's what he told me to call him. There's a chance he's bi, but probably he's straight. It's more likely Tom just has fun being a cock teaser to the boys he thinks might be gay or bi, and there are a few of us working here. If he were to ever make a serious play for me though, he could easily have me. Ha ha! No really, he's cool and I'm crushing on him a little. I'm just not sure where he's coming from so I keep the crushing to myself and maintain my aloof tough-guy attitude with him as much as I can. That's the attitude I adopt whenever I'm not sure how I should respond in a situation. Mostly Tom seems amused by my aggressive posture; come to think of it he's amused by just about everything. He's wicked good looking and the girls on my shift are hot for him too; he flirts right back at them as well.
Parked and looking in the rear view mirror, I re-comb by hair combing it up in front then down on top. Damn, I wish I'd gotten a haircut after school like Bruce and I were gonna do yesterday. The haircuts were abandoned because Dajuan got sick which meant Bruce and I had a rare afternoon to ourselves; the idea of doing some sex together easily won-out over haircuts, no contest there. Yeah, but I still wish we could have fit in the haircuts; I like to look good for Tom although I guess it's kind of stupid because he's never once commented on my hair. I can be a bit of a goof around him for some reason. As soon as I walk through the door Tom comes right over to say good morning and, as usual, he gooses my ass and I give him a grouchy frown in return. His goose is a full-hand goose that lasts a couple of seconds and gets my dick squirming in my pants. The goose, by the way, is the reason I think he may be at least bi. Unfortunately that's it, just one goose a day isn't much to base assumptions about his sexual orientation on, but it is something. He's twenty-one years old but looks younger than that by a few years. The first time I met him I thought he was a new kid just starting with Starbucks like me and then I find out he's my boss! He's also a college senior at Framingham State. Nice looking white kid; very nice looking actually, but the oddest thing happens when he smiles... it fucks-up his looks. It's rare that a smile screws-up a guy's looks but it most definitely does in Tom's case; makes him look retarded. It's disturbing how this good looking kid's appearance can radically change to a totally doofus-look when he smiles. This morning, after goosing me, he pulls me by the arm into the corner of the back wall, behind the coffee machines display. There's this small alcove back there that's hidden from the view of anyone else in the store. Back here he ironically says I need to smile more. I give him a stern look and he begins whispering"dumb blond" jokes to me, his lips brushing my ear as he's quietly telling the jokes, laughing and smiling his dorky smile as he talks. The jokes go like this:
"A dumb blond lost a breast stroke swimming competition only to learn later that the other swimmers cheated by using their arms and legs during the race."
"That same dumb blond was heard confidently insisting... 'Capital of California is C! Right?"'
"She got mad because she made a mistake with dinner. She cooked her Thanksgiving turkey for 2 and 1/2 days... instructions said one-half hour per pound and she weighs 108 pounds. To further irritate her, the next day she had to return a newly purchased scarf because it was too tight on her neck."
"Later in the week she got very excited. She'd finally finished her jigsaw puzzle, it took her only 6 months when right there on the front of the box it said '2 to 4 years"'. Ha, ha!
Being careful not to look at Tom's face while he's laughing, I do some begrudging chuckles; but mostly I'm just taking advantage of the opportunity to lean against his slim body. The jokes aren't all that funny; it's Tom's contagious laughter that gets me to laugh a little. Plus, while I'm leaning into him my arm accidentally-on-purpose goes around his neck; he's another one of those boys who smells good so I like to get as tight with him as I can. Tom gets his arm around my waist and we sort of wrestle-dance together which he thinks is a riot. As for me, I've got a boner in my pants that won't quit. In my straight days I never got these frequent boners that I do nowadays. Now, boys seem sexier to me, so I spring boners much quicker than I did with the girls. Anyway, Tom and I untangle, he pats me on the back and then rubs my shoulders saying something really unusual before sending me off to get ready for work. What he said was, "I can see the true you when you're laughing." That's an odd thing to say and I can't even guess what he meant by it. On my way to the storage room door I'm watching him for a quick second as he begins to check register receipts, his face back to its normal calm, handsome look. I think, "He looks like Brandon Flowers." Brandon is the lead singer for the rock group The Killers, in case ya don't know. Staring at him, I felt the usual attraction I always feel when I see him, but more than that I thought how hot it would be to dominate him sexually, or the other way around maybe. Surprisingly, lately I've been fantasizing about me being dominated by Tom and I never thought I'd go for that. Adjusting my crotch I walk into the back room to put on my green apron and begin my shift.
For a few weeks now I've had vivid fantasies involving Tom. As a matter of fact, I dreamed about parts of my latest fantasy last night. Dreams are funny, they often hide from you until some little thing jars the memory of it into your consciousness. I like tall guys and Tom's a little taller than me so that makes him at least six feet tall. He's slender with wide shoulders, and long legs, a great bubble butt ass too; in other words, he's got just about my favorite idea of a boy's perfect body. Unfortunately I've never seen his dick but I'm betting, based on his long feet, that it's about eight inches. Now here's the odd part: my dream fantasy had me, not Tom, swinging from the wrist restraints! And yep, Tom was fucking me like I fucked Bruce yesterday afternoon, fucking me with that eight inch boner of his; in my dream it felt real good. It's odd to dream something like that because I swore to myself no one would ever put me in the female role when it comes to gay sex, no way. I'm not sucking cock and I'm not getting fucked, but from last night's dream, apparently, I've changed my mind about part of that. I've had a few other fantasies about Tom and now, sitting down on a carton of Starbucks napkins, I make up a new fantasy on the spur of the moment. It has Tom wearing Bruce's wrist and ankle restraints, his legs spread wide with the thirty-inch metal spreader bar. The picture of him straining to stand steady is so real in my head. Naturally, I'll want to spank his ass so why not use the strap that Dajuan likes me to use on him. It probably hurts like hell getting spanked like that so I fantasize Tom crying like a big baby and begging me to stop with every thwack across his bare ass. Hee hee, I'm groping myself seeing that picture in my mind. It's an especially cool fantasy because dominating someone bigger and older than me is an extra erotic turn-on for me.
Fantasies are fun but I got to get to work here. Standing up to tie the green apron around my waist, then groping my pecker again, I had another vision. In this picture Tom, totally naked, is bending forward so that I'm able to attach his wrist restraints to his ankle ones. Oh God, I gotta try that with Bruce! Grabbing Tom's hips, I ram my hard, six-inch cock up his spanked, red ass. His moans of pain turn to pleasure as his ass juices and my precum ease my cock's sliding to and fro in his tight, tight hole. In my fantasy he has a hairless ass but in reality Tom's got hairy legs, so in real life he probably has hair on his ass too, which simply won't do. I can do anything I want in my fantasy so I've already ordered him to keep his legs and ass shaved, like I shaved Bruce's pubic hairs yesterday. Boy oh boy, I'd love to fuck Tom and just maybe I'd love him to fuck me too. That's such a new concept it's hard for me to believe I actually dreamed it.
Mmmm, sooo hot! Then I hear Tom calling me for real. Oops, I've been daydreaming back here again. Flying out of the back room I mumble something about a broken shoelace. My job this morning is to relieve the girl on register one; the register that's next to the plate glass window overlooking the patio area where we have a half dozen tables with chairs for those who want to drink their beverage in the sunshine.
It's a busy place throughout the day which helps the time pass quickly. I've learned something here; dealing with the public can be problematic. For example, two weeks ago an old bag lady, maybe homeless or maybe just drunk, came in and drank milk straight from the thermos containers. Our jaws dropped at the unexpectedness of it; the atrociousness of it. The manager, Ty Burton, was stocking bags of coffee beans not far from her but before he could get to her she was out the door with fistfuls of sugar packets, her bristly gray mustache white with milk, yuck! Naturally, the customers didn't want to use any of the thermos containers because it wasn't clear which one she'd drank from, so I had to replace them all; what a pain in the ass. A few weeks before that, prior to my shift, a drunken man came into the restaurant and used the unisex bathroom. One of the baristas was suspicious so she went in to check the bathroom after the man had left and found he had pooped in the sink. Many bizarre stories, though happily most of the customers know where to poop! When I heard the poop story, I suggested to Tom that we put a hand soap dispenser down low on the wall for those who want to wash their hands in the toilet. Tom got to laughing at that and it earned me a second goose that day.
In my opinion the majority of our customers seem to be concerned with life style issues, they think of themselves as trend-setters. They're in love with the concept of custom blended beverages and are, for the most part, totally price indifferent. I mean, five to ten dollars for a coffee drink or hot chocolate? Come on! These people pay the price because they like being seen in Starbucks; they like the social experience of sitting there with their laptops. It appears to be a cross cultural thing and many of them have an intentionally pompous way of placing their drink orders. "Venti white mocha with exactly ten ice cubes, please," "Venti chocolate cream frappuccino with three pumps of mocha and one pump of vanilla, twice blended with no whip cream," or "Venti soy, triple shot latte, no foam, and double cupped, if you don't mind." It's an effort at times to keep myself from saying "OK, that'll be seven dollars, you pompous asshole." Except I make eight dollars and twenty-five cents an hour plus an average of two more dollars per hour when the tips are split-up among all the employees. So, with a smile, I grin and bear it, "Have a nice day!" or "What can I get for you this fine morning?" You know, play the game I'm getting paid to play; it's the smart thing to do. Ironically, I can't stand Starbucks' coffee; even the mildest roast is too bitter and strong tasting for me. How the company managed to get this snooty niche in the coffee market is beyond me, but I've got a pretty good job here and I'm intent on not screwing it up. I need it until I graduate high school and join the Army; and what the hell, Tom makes the job interesting too. I can't imagine him being submissive, but still it's fun fantasizing him being that way... oh boy, what would I give to spank his cute ass.
Today the barista is Eric Solarie, who's an obviously gay nineteen year old boy. In addition to not being good looking, he has lots of facial piercings, quite a few stud earrings, and he wears many bracelets that he has a habit of playing with in between every other thing he does. He'll pour some cream in a cup and then roll his wrist to jiggle the bracelets, then add a pump of mocha after which he'll lift his arm so his bracelets clash together, then add some coffee and again with those fucking bracelets, and so forth... it's his thang. He also has a movement thing with his head that says, "I'm gay in case you haven't noticed," and he wears wild clothes from second hand shops to go with his long, dyed red hair. But get this, Starbucks is an inclusive company and since Eric is a friendly, smiley, and efficient barista who's considered a valued employee; the rest of that stuff doesn't matter. And, that's a very good thing about this company in my opinion. I like Eric but haven't confided in him that I'm bi and the truth is I'd never have a boyfriend like Eric, he's too flamboyant. It's my firm belief that if a guy is cute or nice looking he shouldn't have any visible body piercings, they just detract from his natural perfection. The exception to that being small hoop earrings in the ear lobes, which are cool. Now, on the other hand, if a guy isn't cute at all and has very little going for him in the looks department he should get all the piercing he can afford; they'll attract attention away from his sub-par looks and this philosophy is obviously being adhered to by Eric. Naturally this is just my opinion, everyone's entitled to theirs.
Once I discovered my gay side, one of the best things about this job became the sight-seeing possibilities. There's a parade of exotic people coming through Starbucks everyday; naturally most of them are regular adult customers, none of whom interest me at all. There's also the newbies parading by too, and I'm talking about newbie guys around my age; they're the ones who interest me. Occasionally a hot chick will get my attention but since my transfer to Dover/Sherborn High, I've given up on dating girls in favor of boys and consequently the boys have been getting most of my attention lately. Hey, maybe Garrett's sister will change me around again, we'll see; but for now it's the boys.
Boy watching is fun but it can also be frustrating because of how rare the special looking boys are. I'm always looking for them in the line of customers as they slowly order their custom made beverages, shuffling past me hour after hour. In case you didn't know, we aren't known for speed here; mostly just friendly, chatty service. From all the customers I'll see in a day, maybe three or four boys will be really interesting looking. Ya never know when one will appear, they're mixed-in with the ordinary looking ones and the equally rare ones who are so bad looking they're in the "avert-your-eyes" category. Now, to be clear about this, while it's quite true that only about one in twenty-five or so are special, I can find something cute or sexy about almost every boy in my age group. That is, except for the fatties and the rare, hideous ones. I've become an expert admirer of boys, you might say. It's fascinating the numbers of attractive features boys possess; I never realized this fact until I opened my eyes as a bi boy and recognized all the eye candy available for those of us attuned to appreciating it. One of my favorite varieties is the tallish slim boy with long legs and nicely defined buttocks. Ideally he should have a baby face; one on which he's reflecting a sullen, pissed-off expression which is so typically boyish and appealingly cute. His face most likely will have a pale complexion, fine eyebrows, and dark brown eyes with light blond hair, cut short. Puffy bow-shaped dark pink pouty lips and a shy attitude reflected in his body language. I see one of these exotic creatures maybe once a week and it really makes my day. I like the slim Hispanic boys too, the ones with that beautiful flawless tan complexion, rosy lips, dark eyes and hair, the hair cut short with an outline shaved-in with a straight razor across the forehead, down the sides and around the back. They usually strut arrogantly with their pants pulled half-way down their butt showing the top of their underwear; that's so hot.
Coincidentally I just served one of these special boys a few minutes ago; not one like I've just described, but interesting enough in his own right. He's outside at one of the tables on the other side of the plate glass window next to the register I'm working at. This boy's got the "black Irish" look going for him; a whitish-pale complexion, dark blue eyes and very dark hair combed straight back from his forehead, his hair cut short on the sides. Nearly perfect facial features with the usual serious expression, as if he's working out an important problem. He's with a girl who resembles him so it's probably his sister although he's the much better looking of the two. This boy's slightly taller than me, slim to almost skinny. I'd guess he's about sixteen years old. He has that same pale tight skin on his long fingered, narrow hand and I stared at it when he paid for his drink. I clumsily touched his fingers for a fraction of a second longer than necessary when giving him his change and his eyes raised to mine for fleeting eye contact; it was an awesome moment. Yeah, it happened just a few minutes ago when I looked up and there he was. To start with I'd given him my best smile and after a quick grin, he'd politely ordered a venti bold with a shot of espresso which he's now drinking while smoking a cigarette outside reading the Herald's sports page. He's sitting up straight with his legs crossed in that way where the back of one knee is across the top of his other knee. Not crossed at mid-calf like you normally see a guy cross his legs. Neither he nor his sister are talking, just sitting there drinking their overpriced coffees, cigarette smoke drifting from their nose and mouth in between swallows. He just glanced up at me through the window and our eyes met again for a second or two, the tip of his pink tongue ran around his lips as he grinned at me and then shyly looked down. Good God! I groped myself and continued staring at him, wishing I knew him. Then, in front of me, an adult customer wearing a fedora made a fake coughing sound to get my attention. That was embarrassing, but the boy outside is so exotically exciting to me I didn't mind getting caught staring at him. The boy has style and confidence; things I wish I had, but don't. What I have is fake bravado and a nervous stomach worried about the next fight I might need to be in to protect that image. I'm planning on changing my attitude after graduating high school, and it's probably a damn good thing too since I'm joining the Army National Guard and they probably don't appreciate recruits with attitudes.
Driving home after work I've got all the car's windows down enjoying the unseasonably beautiful weather; especially beautiful for an early May afternoon in New England. The nice weather makes me think "baseball". The Red Sox just happen to be playing against the Blue Jays tonight so I've decided that's what Garrett and I will do. That's what we'll do for the early part of the night, that is; later on he'll obviously be looking for some domination from me, along with some sex no doubt. I'll need to service that of course, but first a relaxing baseball game. Jeez, putting it that way makes it sound like it's a chore for me to do some sex on Garrett's ass which is definitely not the way I feel. Garrett's eatable for Christ sakes, sex with him will be a blast. I'm just saying that sex will be number one on his mind, that's all. What the hell, after the game I'll give him a good spanking and a good fucking and then he'll be following me around like Bruce does, but who's complaining? Certainly not me. Let's see, we'll need to score some bleacher seats from scalpers outside Fenway Park, not that that's a problem. Garrett will have money on him so I'll get him to spring for the seats; even for bleacher seats the fucking scalpers will want fifty bucks a ticket. Hmmm, we'll wait until just before game time when those blood-suckers start worrying about getting stuck holding tickets and then we'll get the best price... I'm terrible at bargaining with those guys though... oh, never mind that now. Okay, I've got our night figured out so that's cool.
At home my grandparents have our Saturday night dinner of pizza and salad already on the table so I eat with them telling them about my day in between bites of pizza. They're always interested in what's going on in my life, which is nice. Gramps was especially interested that I'd be seeing the Red Sox at Fenway tonight. He goes, "You and I should go to a game, Geoffrey. How would ya like that?" Apparently he doesn't know that every game's sold out for the entire season and scalper tickets are priced way too high for him, but I say, "That would be great, I'd love it!" and we talked about that although I know it isn't going to happen. Hey, but what if I can somehow get the tickets for us and surprise him. I really want to do that; I gotta think of a way to make it happen. That got me wondering just how old my grandparents are; I know my mother's forty-something. Well, gramps is collecting Social Security so he must be wicked old. He's very nice though; always cheerful and looking at things positively which has to be hard considering my mother is a huge disappointment. It must really hurt that their daughter is so fucked-up; it hurts me, I can tell ya that much. She has an addictive personality I guess, and once she got hooked on booze she wasn't able to get unhooked. They don't mention her to me and I'm not sure I should ask, but I'd like to know if she's getting any better. It's depressing thinking about it and, as with many things in life, I feel totally helpless with this situation. Well, in a few weeks I'll be in the Army National Guard earning money for college. I'm determined not to be a huge disappointment to anyone. After my six months active duty I'll still have six years of monthly weekend meetings and, in addition, two weeks each summer of active duty. It's a lot, but I'll be going to college while working a job at the same time and I'll be financially able to take care of my mother and my grandparents if I need to; well, that's my plan anyway. My plan doesn't include telling them I'm bisexual though, it would just confuse the issue and it's basically not important that they know anyway.
After a shower I hurriedly get dressed and I'm outside smoking a cigarette when a new blue Volvo convertible comes cruising down the street with Garrett driving it. Unexpectedly I get a twitch in my dick seeing Garrett. Surprising to discover I was anxious to see him. Huh? I don't know where that came from; he's got the hots for me, not the other way around. Telling myself to get a grip, I adopt a smug look and give Garrett a casual wave then flick my cigarette butt into the street and get in the car saying, "Hey, 'sup, Garrett? Nice ride, dude!" He looks brand new himself, shiny new; he's a million dollar baby-faced rich kid. Bright smile, his face clean enough to eat off of, his big blue eyes behind his John Lennon glasses looking bluer than blue, he's sporting a crisp haircut in the same style as mine and altogether he looked like the perfect teenager. To be honest though, he doesn't look old enough to be driving a car. He gives me an excited, "Hi Geoff, isn't this great? You and me on a date! When I told Patty, she laughed and said she knew I'd get to you before she did." That was an odd comment. I asked, "Ah, Garrett... does she, I mean, does your family know, you know... that you're, ah, gay?" He says, "Sure, I told them two years ago." I'm like astonished... what the fuck? I go, "You mean your sister knows you're gay and knows you and me are hooking up tonight? What the fuck's going on?" I was pissed off. We're still sitting at the curb; I grab his arm and snarl at him, "This makes me look like an asshole. Me not knowing that your sister knows you're gay, and then when she said to me that you'd be soooo jealous she meant because I'm... or that you're..." I was flustered; Garrett stared at me trying in his normal sincere manner to comprehend my concern. He's too polite to interrupt, but when I sputtered to a stop he calmly says, "I'm sorry if I misled you, Geoff; I didn't mean to. Patty knows I'm gay but she doesn't know you're bi, that's personal and I wouldn't reveal a confidence like that. Just because I'm gay doesn't mean everyone I hook-up with is gay too... ya know? Don't be mad, Geoff. Okay?"
Now I'm staring at him, he's so delicious and so consistently nice about everything, and furthermore he also happens to be right about this. Almost everyone Garrett knows is straight because almost ninety percent of everyone in the world is straight, and for all I know everyone he hangs with is straight, well, except me. He told me he's never had gay sex and I believe him; I can't imagine him lying. Just because a guy happens to be gay doesn't mean he's having gay sex around the clock, like I seem to be attempting to do. I say, "Oh... Okay then, never mind. I thought, you know ... oh, just forget about it!" I waved my hand at him like the topic is over and then announce, "We're going to the Red Sox game tonight, do you know how to get to Fenway Park? Get on the Mass Pike for starters..." Garrett holds up his hand like he's in class, so I stop talking and make a face like "you gotta be shitting me with the hand thing..." and he says, "Excuse me Geoff, but we're not going to Fenway tonight; although I do know how to get there. I was there Monday night with my dad as a matter of fact. Tonight you and I are going to the Charles Playhouse to see Blue Man Group. I got us seats in the poncho section, row two, center aisle. It'll be so cool! Have you seen them yet?" Garrett's pulling away from the curb now and stepping on the gas; he's an aggressive driver so I put on my seat belt thinking "Did he just take charge here, or what?" I find myself shaking my head "no" to his question about me seeing Blue Man Group as I'm mumbling "Ah, Blue Man Group? Nah. Never seen 'em." It's eerie the way he brushed away what I'd said about the Red Sox, I'm used to Garrett doing what I say, not contradicting me. On the other hand I'd love to see that show even though I don't get what he means by the "poncho section". The second-row rocks though. Garrett, acting surprised, says "You haven't? You've never seen them? Wow, you're in for a treat then. This show is so much fun! This will be my sixth time seeing it, they change the shows once in a while so it's not like I've seen the exact same show six times." He's babbling excitedly like he does at times, but with more self-confidence than I'm used to seeing from him. It's probably because he's driving his car, and he's the one who bought the tickets, and he knows where the Charles Playhouse is, and stuff like that.
It's weird but I feel kind of relaxed not needing to manage our night right now. If we were going to the Red Sox game I'd need to decide everything and it gets to be a pain in the ass. I'll let Garrett decide about the show and afterward I'll take over and reassert my dominance over him. Maybe get a little rough with him initially to be sure he doesn't over-reach, he's submissive and might pull a muscle if he tries to be too confident! That little joke I told myself made me feel better about things; also the knowledge that Garrett's going to be looking for me to take the lead in the sexual part of this so-called date gave more normalcy to the situation. Garrett was chatty as usual, he's telling me what to expect at the show. He talked on and on as he drove us expertly through Boston to a parking lot close to the Charles Playhouse, which I couldn't have found if I looked for it all night. It's tucked away, hidden by a smallish theater which actually turns out to be the Charles Playhouse. This is the first theater, other than a movie theater, I've ever been in. It's odd, but seeing the darkened stage set-up with mysterious stuff and knowing live people will soon be on that stage entertaining us, well it's all quite exciting somehow. The buzz from the people already seated and the snooty feeling of walking all the way down to the second row, past all the people sitting further back, and we're right in front of the stage, that was cool. Garrett was very matter of fact explaining everything; he did it without making me feel stupid, but there wasn't any doubt this kid is in charge of our date, so far anyway. It was a very strange feeling not being in charge, but the thought of making a fool of myself in this theater environment over-rode all my other concerns, especially as Garrett is patiently explaining the clear plastic poncho at our seats. He goes, "Just unroll it and pull it over your head like this, Geoff. Go ahead, Geoff... do it now please so we can sit down." Okay, now that was bossy! Garrett definitely had some authority behind the 'Go ahead, Geoff... do it now!" In almost a trance I'm staring dumbly at him as he nods his head indicating that I need to pull the poncho over my head, which I do in slow motion while wondering, "What the fuck's going on here?"
As soon as I started doing what Garrett told me to do, he pulled his poncho expertly over his head smiling sweetly and nodding his head encouragingly, now indicating that I was doing good. I found myself smiling back at him, even though I had no idea what the ponchos are for. Garrett's still excited, saying, "This will be so much fun, Geoff! Thanks for being such a good sport about everything." That's better, I thought. And fuck it, I'm beginning to feel a little excited about things myself. The show ran for an hour and forty-five minutes and was chuck-full of constantly bizarre action. Just like the advertisements for the show say, the Blue Man Group is original, funny, visually stunning, and musically powerful. Garrett and I and most everyone around us got splattered a couple of times with paint that the three bald, blue-headed cast members spit and sprayed and drummed-on throughout the show... jeez, I was real glad to be wearing the poncho! In addition to the three Blue Men there was a hot rock band high above the stage. It was all crazy-nuts and too hard to describe accurately; you need to see it for yourself. After the show Garrett, for twenty dollars, bought one of the "spin art" pieces that had been made during the show; he explained he had spin art from each show he'd been to. I was revved-up by the high energy level of the performance and can now understand why someone would want to see the show multiple times. By the way, the tickets cost sixty-two dollars; each ticket represents almost a day's pay for me. I tried not to sound like a pathetic poor boy while thanking Garrett for treating me tonight, I told him "Yo, thanks Garrett, that really rocked, dude... I appreciate it!" You know, I tried to keep it light and casual. What I wanted to yell was something like "Oh my God, that was so fucking awesome!! I could never afford it myself, but thank you so much for treating me; it was one of the most exciting things I've ever seen," and so on, but that's not me. I gotta take back control of things or Garrett will see I'm no more confident about many things than he is. Also, I think he likes me mostly because I am the hard-ass, over-confident, bullish type; not a pushover like... well, like him.
In the car Garrett says, "We'll drive over to the North End for some coffees and Italian desserts now. I know this place...." and he blathers on. I was going to tell him what we're doing next except I've never been to the North End and it sounded cool so I kept my mouth shut and did what Garrett said; it was a very strange feeling though. I stared at Garret's face as he talked while driving us through the ridiculously heavy Boston traffic. Biting my lip I got a boner in my pants watching his mouth and hearing his voice, not that I paid any attention to what he was saying. It's more like I'd never seen this side of him before, he wasn't being overbearing at all; just confidently going about what he wanted to do and it made him appear sexier somehow. In school he apparently wasn't in his element, but driving his mother's car, going to the Charles Playhouse to see Blue Man Group, and getting Italian desserts in Boston's North End is his element. It's cool and I found myself mesmerized by Garrett... a totally unexpected development and I don't have any idea what to make of it. He gave his car over to valet parking and we sat at a tiny round table and had delicious sweet coffees and Italian cookies like I've never tasted before. Garrett paid for everything with his debit card. I don't have a debit card and didn't realize that many kids routinely pay for stuff with them. Rich kids, ya know. In between eating and drinking we talked mostly about the show, laughing as we recalled the highlights. Finally Garrett says, "OK, time to go, Geoff. How about if you give this parking ticket to the guy at the valet desk, I need to take a leak. I'll meet you out front when I'm done." Only while walking toward the front door of the restaurant, staring at the ticket Garrett pressed in my hand, did I realize how bossy he sounded just then and I began getting pissed-off. Who the fuck does he think he's dealing with here? Does he think I'm his fucking flunky, or what?
After giving the ticket to the valet kid, who's this hot teenaged Italian boy with a swarthy complexion, long dark hair in a ponytail, and beautiful black eyes that stared into my eyes when he asked, in this husky voice, "What kinda car is it, dude?" I stuttered, "Huh, ah... that is. The car? Oh, it's a blue, Volvo convertible." He'd caught me off guard and made me act and feel like a dork. Why didn't Garrett tell me the kid would ask questions? God damnit! I'm so out of my element tonight, and Garrett's definitely been bossing me the fuck around... and now I'm getting intimidated by valet boys! Then I tried to think straight. I know I've got a chip on my shoulder, just be cool with this. For once don't make a federal case out of nothing. The valet didn't do anything wrong, and neither has Garrett. Try to relax; it's been a great night. I hear, "Is everything okay, Geoff?" Turning my head I see it's Garrett with a concerned expression on his face, "You look angry, are you?" I go, "No, no... it's all cool. The kid's getting the car. Those fucking cookies rocked, ya know?" Garrett, smiling now, told me how his family comes here every couple of months after a show and blab, blab, blab. I was back staring at Garrett's incredible face and looking forward to making out with him; making out with that fantastic mouth, with those sexy lips. Oh my God, I'm hot for Garrett... I can't believe it. Life's full of surprises. He's so little too, four or five inches shorter than me with that slim body of his, very much like Bruce's. Then I remembered Garrett's long dick, the boned-up one I'd grabbed through his pants outside the cafeteria weeks ago, and the time we made-out at the DPW building when his long hard pecker was poking my belly button just before he blew his load into his underpants, Jesus! Damn, I'm hot for all of Garrett and I don't know how or when this happened. I can't let Garrett know, that's for damn sure.
On the Mass Pike driving out of Boston, Garrett says, "You gotta work tomorrow so I better drop you off now, alright?" I frowned because he'd just put the burden of suggesting some sexy activity onto me. By him asking that question I'm now the one who will need to suggest we get sexy instead of doing the sensible thing and getting to sleep. Damn! Did he do that on purpose or by accident? Well, I'm not going to be the one who seems needy. I mumble, "Yeah, sure... thanks, Garrett. It's been great." There, I turned the tables on him. He says, "OK, I think it'll be quicker if I get off at Route 30 though, instead of staying on the Pike into Framingham, don't you think?" God dammit, isn't he going to ask me to do anything sexy with him! I say, "Whatever..." Garrett gets off the Mass Pike at Route 30 and is driving directly to my house. Oh, the hell with it; I say "Hey, how about we park down by the DPW building and mess around for a little while, you know..." Garrett's thinking about it, "You sure, Geoff?" He's making me ask him a second time! Can I believe this shit?! I'm exasperated now, I go, "Yeah, I'm fucking sure! Okay?" Garrett's apologetic, "I didn't mean to piss you off, I'm sorry, Geoff. Don't be mad, okay?" Now the mood's fucked up, but I look over and see the side of his face with his sincere expression and soften my voice to say, "Let's just do it, Garrett." With a nod of his head he turns off onto the road leading to the high school and then down behind the high school to the abandoned DPW building where he parks out of sight on the far side. He turns in his seat to look at me and quietly says, "I'm nervous, Geoff. I don't know exactly what I'm supposed to do." I'm thinking... "Good, I'm back in charge!" I say, "Take your glasses off first, then we'll get in the back seat. I'll walk you through it, Garrett." He takes a big breath, and mumbling, "Okay" takes his glasses off and puts them on the dash board, then looks over at me for more instructions. I find myself leaning over towards him and then cupping my hand behind his head to pull our faces together; the hell with the back seat, I can't wait to taste his mouth again. My lips close on his and we both sigh at the same time. What's happening to me? Garrett's supposed to be the infatuated one, not me.
Oh my God, his lips, then his tongue, feel so special. His arms around my neck, we lean together separated in out bucket seats only by the gear shift between us. He's so delicious, I just absorb his saliva while moving my head slightly back and forth rubbing my nose against his and inhaling his boyish odor. I go back to French kissing him, and Garrett's imitating everything I do. I've got his head held between my hands kissing his mouth, then licking his tongue and sucking his top lip, both of us moaning with sexual arousal. Shortly the stimulation becomes too high for Garrett; he lets out a long moan, "Ahhh mmmmm." He drags his face to be side by side with my face, he's breathing fast, and then murmurs, "I'm going to cum in my pants again, Geoff... you're so sexy to me, I can't catch my breath!" Then, before I can say anything, he's mumbling quickly, "Was tonight fun for you? I wanted it to be special and I planned it out all day today so you'd like me and..." He was going off on one of his talking jags so I interrupted him with, "Shhhh, don't talk Garrett, it was excellent tonight. Thank you." Our head are just inches apart; I looked into his big blue eyes, and asked, "Would you like me to fuck you?" He nods his head up and down, then whispers "Yes, but I'm scared to do it." I move my face to his and kiss his lips quickly; then, without thinking about it, I found myself deep into another mad make-out with Garrett. I've never felt like this before; sex play and all that is fantastic with Dajuan and Bruce, but my feelings for Garrett are different. I care about Garrett differently somehow and I don't know how that happened. I can't get enough of him, his taste, his looks, his voice, his smell. Our faces are wet with spit and now a little perspiration mixes in as well... it's hot in the car with the top up and the heater on to ward off the chill of this spring night. Garrett's making squeaking sounds, he again pulls his head away reaching between his legs this time to adjust himself and moan, "It feels so good... I thought I was going to cum in my pants again." I say, "Let's get in the back seat now."
We're both breathing hard, he looks at me biting his lip with a worried look on his face. I ruffle his hair and kiss his cheek, then put my lips against his ear and whisper, "I'd never hurt you, Garrett. Don't worry... I'll look out for you." When I look back at his face, his eyes are big, he's nodding his head with tiny nods as he mumbles, "Thank you, Geoff. I trust you... tell me what to do." "First, let's get these front bucket seats as far forward as they'll go, then we'll get in the back. Ya got a blanket or something?" Garrett and I use the power seat adjustment to move the seats forward; he turns off the car, takes the keys and says, "In the trunk there's a picnic blanket. I'll get it." I'm thinking "What the fuck's a picnic blanket?" but I say nothing. He gets a thin blanket that we spread on the leather back seat and then we get in and close the doors. Lights high on the DPW building reflecting off of something keep it from being pitch black in the car. "Take off your pants, Garrett. We'll do a lap-fuck." He nods his head saying, "I've seen that on the "Gaydar" web site, it looks cool but oh my God I'm nervous." I ignore his nervousness and ask "I don't suppose you have lube, do ya?" He shakes his head "no" as he's struggling out of his pants. When he takes his underpants down his face turns red, blushing. "I'm not shy about being naked for gym showers, but it's just the two of us and somehow I'm self conscious about you seeing me." He's using his hand to kind of shield his package from my view but I can see it anyway. A long, uncut penis surrounded by blond pubic hair in a neatly confined area; below that are regular sized balls nestled nicely in a hairless pink sack. His thighs are pink and hairless; I get the urge to lick them right where they connect to his torso, next to his groin. Reaching over slowly, my mouth open slightly, I gently push his hand away and then push up his shirt to expose his hairless belly and his innie belly button, then my glance goes back down to what's between his legs. His cock might be the longest cock I've ever seen. Not particularly fat, just long.
Slowly my hand moves down to gently lift his semi-hard penis. Making a fist, I move my hand downward toward his belly, pulling the foreskin off the hidden head, and there it is: a perfect pink, one-eyed cock head that I want to have in my mouth and, at the same time, can't believe I even had that thought. It made me shake my head hard, as if waking me from a trance. My eyes look up to see Garrett staring down at my hand wrapped around his cock. I stroke up to cover the head of his penis with the foreskin again and then down, and his cock's head appears once more. I do that a half dozen times, neither of us saying a word; no sound at all except our short burst of breath. His cock, now all of seven inches, gets as hard as a steel pipe, there's a clear drop of liquid forming at his pee slit, it enlarges as we watch it, continues to get bigger until it breaks free of the slit and rolls down the shaft and over my fingers. Garrett gasps then, his body shudders, goose bumps on his thighs as another precum drop appears at his pee slit, then down it rolls to join its brother on my fingers. I say, "We'll use precum as our lube, but next time I'll make sure to have some real lube 'cause it goes better that way." Garrett looks up, his eyes even wider, he nods and does a tiny shy grin, then mutters, "Okay, Geoff." Looking down I see his calves which are thin, but showing very noticeable muscle tone. Letting go of his dic, I ask, "Do you exercise, Garrett?" He replies, breathlessly, "I'm a runner on the cross country track team at school. I've been doing it since freshman year... why?" My breathing gets shallower; I reach over and run my hand up and down his leg thinking of Bruce's calves. Pulling Garret's leg up on my lap moves him slightly sideways on the seat, it also causes his boner to lean up against his bare belly and he goes, "Ooh!" and stroke himself. He'd already pulled off his loafers; I pull his sock off and there's his long pink foot with the neatly trimmed toenails. His long thin foot goes with his long thin cock; perfect symmetry. Without thinking I pulled his foot up, leaned down, and smelled it. Not a strong foot smell, more like the regular boyish Garrett-smell. I glance up at Garrett momentarily; his brow was furrowed, looking quizzically at me. Thinking quickly that I don't want to confuse the situation this first time, I say, "Oh, it's nothing" and push his leg off my lap and pull down my pants past my knees. "Here, Garrett. Kneel on either side of my thighs facing me. We'll take it slowly." His face got flushed again, then bright red as he went into full-blush mode.
Smiling at him, encouraging him, he did his head nod again; lots of head nods from Garrett but he's so fucking cute with it the head nodding didn't bother me anymore. He was very nimble getting in front of me, one of his knees on either side of my hips. He sat down on my thighs breathing hard now. Red in the face he does a big inhale and looks first at my cock that was boning up a little, then he looked me in the eyes. "Lift up on your knees" I tell him. My cock was fairly hard, but with a few strokes as I'm glancing at Garrett's body, naked from the waist down, I was soon rock hard and dripping. Slowly reaching over to stroke Garrett's boner again I collected some precum and wiped it on the head of my cock, then drooled a spit string on it too. As I smeared it around the head of my boner Garrett made little wheezy sounds, red dots appearing on his neck, then his blush traveled down to drown out the red dots; he was blushing down on his chest too probably, but I couldn't see it because he still had his shirt on. "Take my dick, Garrett, and line it up with your bum hole... go ahead." His eyes were blinking quickly as he went up on his knees, took my boner in his fingers, then leaned forward and rubbed the head of my wet cock back and forth along his ass crack. I almost groaned then, his skin so soft, even when he moved it over his hole it was warm and soft. Hairless, soft, pinkish skin; very clean and new. I did a little gasp at the incredible sensations he was causing on my cock which made Garrett dart his eyes to mine. I smiled again saying, "You're doing great" and just like that he sat down on my cock. It went up inside him about two inches, he immediately pulled up and off going "Owww, oh, that hurt!" It felt fantastic to me so I mumbled, "It goes easier with lube, put some more of your precum on the head, spit on your hand and use your saliva too." He did what I said which impressed the hell out of me. He could just as well have said, "Screw this... it hurts too much!"
Waiting for Garrett to try again I was wondering how or why this rather small, slightly whiny kid had grown on me to such a degree. My realization that it really matters to me that this goes well has me totally baffled. His whole package; his cute looks, his sincere and friendly mien, his boyish scent, his yummy mouth, great body and that fantastic cock of his... all of it is obviously enticing, but it's more than that. How do any of us pinpoint all the reasons that one certain person becomes more important than anyone else? There are so many intangibles involved; all the subconscious unknowable little things that add together to create this unique individual that you simply must have in your life. I know at some point it's got a name, "love" as in "I love you," not that that's where I'm at with Garrett. Whatever it is, I know it's more than what I feel for my friends Dajuan and Bruce; they're still very important to me but Garrett's in another category now and I don't know what the name of that category is yet. I reached over and squeezed Garrett's arm mumbling, "You'll like it Garrett, I know you will." He looked up with a surprised expression, his eyes soft as he quietly says, "Thanks for that, Geoff." Then, with a look of renewed determination, he sat on my boner again with the same result; two inches of boner up his ass and him immediately pulling off. He tried again and, this third time when lifting up, he didn't pull totally off as my cock head stayed in him. He sank down again quickly, biting his lip with his eyes closed tightly; sat down so that most of my cock went up his ass before he slowly went up on his knees pulling off just until the head of my cock was at his sphincter ring. I'm staring at his face waiting for the verdict as we're both taking quick breaths, my heart pounding in my chest. The sensations on my cock are awesome as I wait with anticipation for Garrett's appraisal.
Opening his eyes he goes, "Oh man! That felt good this time, Geoff." I breathed a sigh of relief and said, "See what I mean? Do it some more, it feels awesome to me too!" He manages a smile as he goes down on my boner again, up and then all the way down to sit on my thighs with my boner way up his ass. Blowing out a lot of air he squirms on my legs, rises up and then down again. "Oh wow, this is so good," he says seemingly to himself. Then, getting a hold of my shoulders with both hands, he starts riding my boner the full six inches, up and down, for at least a dozen times making squeaky noises with his eyes shut again. He stops then with the head of my cock at his sphincter ring, leans his head down next to his hand on my shoulder, the side of his face against the side of mine, his boner swaying between us dripping copious amounts of clear liquid, and with exhales near my ear he humps my boner fast until letting out a long "Ahhhhh" and a stream of cum blasts up from his cock splashing my chest where the top button of my shirt is undone. The second squirt of cum has him squeezing my shoulders so hard it hurt, his cum stream hitting under my chin and on my neck, then another spray as he humps my cock in a frenzy until one of his humps upward is so erratic it pulls off my boner and I picked that time to squeeze out a long string of cum that lines across the back of the front passenger seat, then a smaller burst of cum with me shutting down every muscle in my body trying to shoot another shot of spunk, but only getting drools running down the shaft of my boner. I'm so aroused I can't even make a sound other than heavy breathing and grunting noises. Garrett's got me around the neck in a death grip squeezing his body up against me making whimpering sounds and rocking slightly from one side to the other. His cock is still hard between us, wetting my shirt with its still drooling head. I've got my arms around him hugging back as I feel little kisses on the side, near the back of my neck.
We rocked gently like that for a short time. Then, anxious to hear how much he liked it, I asked, "Was I right, Garrett?" He does his head nod, naturally; then quietly says, "I never would have believed anything could be that elaborate. I mean, the sensations were off the charts, too many to even recognize all of them. I still feel like I'm vibrating or something." I'm rubbing the hairs on the back of his head chuckling a little and at the same time saying, "Yeah, I know what you mean, Garrett. You know, I'm pretty new to this too, but it sure felt good doing it with you." He pulls his head back then and, looking me right in the eyes says, "Is it alright for me to say I love you, Geoff?" I shake my head from side to side slowly and say, "No, don't say that Garrett... we hardly know each other... let's say we're fuck buddies, okay? For now at least." The head nod again, then he says, "Sure, that's fine" and he lays his head back on my shoulder again and I hug him tight for a second. What a great armful he is, and am I ever stuck on him. I better go very slowly with this though or I'll wind up following Garrett around like Bruce follows me. That made me grunt a chuckle and Garrett asks, "What's so funny?" I say, "You want to try it a different way?" He brightens and goes, "Now, tonight? Do ya think we can?" I say, "Sure, you lay on your back and I'll fuck you like that." He says, "How 'bout you lay on your back and I'll fuck you?" He asked that so innocently and all of a sudden it was clear to me, he doesn't know anything about dominant or submissive behavior; where Garrett's concerned it's just a matter of what's fair is fair. That was his motivation for calling about me making a date with his sister; it didn't seem fair to him, just like he'd said at the time. I say, "Hey, let it be my turn another night, tonight it's your turn." He thinks about it for a second, nods his head that it's fine with him and mumbles, "Next time I'll be doing the, you know... the fucking part." Just for the hell of it I nod like he does to me and he laughs, saying, "I know I do that all the time. Heh, I gotta try to cut down on my nodding and practice speaking more, huh?" What a cute kid; I nod again.
As Garrett's laying on his back lengthwise on the blanket covering the back seat I'm standing awkwardly bent over leaning against the front seat thinking, "Am I really going to let Garrett fuck me?" He's only five foot seven inches tall, at most, but laying on the seat his feet still rest up on the side of the Volvo so I pull one out and climb onto the back seat in between his legs, scoot up to him, and press my still firm cock against his asshole; it slides in and we both go, "Ahhhh... ohhhh yeah!" He's smiling now as he bends his legs at the knees and brings them forward, in the air. I push in the rest of the way and begin a smooth fucking of that great ass of his. Garrett soon has his legs wrapped around my waist with his ankles interlocked behind me. It felt wonderful and I loved looking at his cute face while fucking him hard and fast. After awhile I leaned down and we kissed for maybe five minutes spreading more saliva around our faces, rubbing our noses together making quiet moans and murmurs. I wanted to eat him up, wrap him up in my arms until we melded together, it was the most intimate feeling I've ever had for another person. Maybe Garrett's right, maybe it is love but how the hell can that be? It doesn't make any sense.
I fucked him for twenty minutes stroking his cock for him the last five and he had himself a nice second climax blowing his cheeks out and doing funny little squealing noises that made him laugh at himself. I shot some cum up his ass a few minutes later and thought the top of my head would come off when I was doing it too. Sensations shooting down my legs and up to my scalp... awesome! Somehow the very idea that my cum was up Garrett's ass was just different, more erotic than my cum up another boy's ass, or a girl's cunt for that matter. When we were hugging and kissing a little later on I knew I was going to let Garrett fuck me; I was looking forward to it actually. But still, I don't understand the why of it yet... the why of it paled as I realized... the need for it. Garrett Austin. Can it be that I've fallen for him?
Garrett got me laughing when he said, in a deadly serious manner, "Can we do it once more tonight?" Damn, I wish I could but I've had a very sexually active day yesterday and it's been quite active tonight too, so I'm chuckling when I say, "Oh my God, you wore me out, Garrett. We'll be at it again soon though, okay?" He nods his head which I just caught out of the corner of my eye as I'm pulling up my pants. I did notice the cum leaking out of Garrett's ass though, and we've both got drying cum on our shirts thanks to Garrett's explosive climaxes. His first climax soaked mostly me and his second one got mostly him. My initial cum streak across the back of the front seat was drying but Garrett had "Wet Ones" clean-ups in aluminum foil packets that I ripped open and used to wipe off the cum. We bumped into each other as I was doing that and Garrett was trying to get into his pants. He kept shooting me these cute smirks as if the two of us were in on a big mission together, and maybe we are. On the way to my house Garrett was bubbling with enthusiasm. He told me, in one of his endless sentences how, "I've been wondering for so long if I'd ever get a chance to do this and now that I've done it I can't believe how fabulous it is and how about oral sex and have you ever tried rimming and if not would you try it in the future do ya think and should I keep what we did a secret?" ("Absolutely, Garrett") and on and on he went. Off on one of his rants where his sentences string together and he talks too fast but I smiled contentedly; for the moment Garrett could do no wrong in my eyes. And, God dammit, I gotta figure this out; my feelings for him make me feel as vulnerable as I've ever felt.
to be continued
Donny Mumford thinkat20@yahoo.com
Please notice that I'm putting this series on the back burner for a while, but it'll be finished to a logical conclusion with another two or three chapters... but, at a later date. I promised guys to get back to the "DYLAN" series with chapters of "Dylan's Summer Vacation" and then back to "Geoff's Point Of View". The guys who asked to be notified when I go back to Dylan will get a copy when I post it on Nifty (gay/high school). Anyone who wants a copy of "Geoff's Point Of View" when I go back to it, just let me know. In either case it'll be posted on Nifty as well (gay/high school). Thank you for your wonderful support of this story!!
Donny