JOHN DARLING'S COMA
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Saturday morning, while eating Dunkin' breakfast sandwiches and coffees in the kitchen, courtesy of Dickie, the guys, John, Andy, Dickie, and Gary, decided they were going on a road trip to Fort Collins, Colorado. It's less than fifty miles from Cheyenne and, at eighty miles an hour, is only about a forty-minute drive. So, it's close, but they expect to be drunk or high tonight, so they're going to stay overnight there.
After breakfast, Andy and John pack overnight satchels. Gary and Dickie don't need to because they already have overnight satchels, initially intending to spend Friday and Saturday nights at John's house. So, with their cowboy hats on, fat Gary and Dickie are waiting on the back porch, smoking and comparing notes about their submissive bottom boys.
Dickie exhales Marlboro smoke, then says, "Obviously, your new boyfriend, John Darling, is better-looking than the three of us other guys put together, but he's got a lot of baggage, too. You know, he was in that coma and whatnot, which causes emotional problems. My boy, the nurse Andy Salsbury, fell right in line and seemed relieved to be in his submissive position again, enjoying the shit out of me taking charge. Heh-heh, I'm enjoying it myself. Andy and I get along great because he knew his place right from the get-go."
Irritated that Dickie seems so happy not to be his boyfriend any longer, Gary mutters, "I hate that stupid term 'get-go.' What does it even mean? Fucking get-go, my ass..."
That grumpy, dominant opinion from fat Gary was all it took for Dickie to lose the confident, take-charge sense he'd built up with Andy. He fell right back to murmuring submissively, "Sorry, Gary. You're right! That is a stupid thing to say. Get-go..."
Fat Gary is mad at himself for snapping at Dickie over that insignificant matter, but he gets a little bit hurt that Dickie seems so excited about not being his boyfriend anymore. Sure, it was Gary's idea, or he thinks it was, anyway. It's one of their ideas, but a little foggy who dropped who. Once Gary felt that unusually strong attraction to John Darling, however, Gary was hooked on him.
Dickie is disappointed in himself that Gary put him down so easily by correcting the goofy term he used... get-go. Even though Dickie is very happy to have moved on from fat Gary, there was something about Gary that's warm and honest when it was just him and Dickie. In a group, Gary can be overly dominant. Still, fat Gary had the charisma or something that made Dickie buckle under and act submissive, which is not a natural state of mind for Dickie Marshall.
To sort of make up for snapping at Dickie, Gary taps Dickie's hat, asking, "Where'd you buy that cowboy hat, Dickie? It looks cool on you."
That brought a huge smile to Dickie's face as he took off the hat, excitedly saying, "Hey, thanks, Gary. I bought it on sale as a twenty-second birthday present for myself. It's Stetson 4X Drifter Gray Buffalo Felt."
Gary mutters, "Yeah, I know," and he takes it from Dickie's hand, taking his hat off and trying Dickie's on, mumbling, "It goes great with all your freckles, bro... seriously! So, how does it look on me?"
"It looks great with your black beard, Gary." Handing the hat back to Dickie, Gary asks, "What'd it cost?"
Putting the hat on, grinning, Dickie mumbles, "I didn't think about my red hair or freckles, but you're right. Haha, and I got the hat on sale. It was $159, but I got it for $99."
"Great buy, Dickie," and Andy comes out on the porch carrying his small overnight satchel and his cowboy hat. "What took you so long?" asks Dickie?" He'd regained his confidence when Gary was nice about the hat, but Dickie felt he'd come on too strong to Andy, so he added, "How do you like my new hat, Salsbury?"
Andy, putting on his hat, mumbles, "Sorry if I held everyone up, but I couldn't find my socks. Um, I love your hat! I told you that earlier."
Dickie nods, liking that response from his new boyfriend, mumbling, "C'mon over here," and Andy scurries over to him, where Dickie, his manhood reinstated, puts his arm around Andy, murmuring, "Don't take so long packing next time, okay?"
Andy nods in agreement, and they kiss, then snicker, both remembering this morning's fuck when Andy screeched out as he was climaxing, which both of them later said sounded like one of John Darling's climax screams... hahaha."
John finally comes out on the porch, his cowboy hat on the back of his head like girls sometimes wear their cowgirl hats, asking, "Who's going to drive? I'll volunteer if you think that's alright, Gary."
Fat Gary mumbles, "No, pretty boy. I'm driving. My pickup has probably shit the bed for good, so I'll be driving Dickie's Monte Carlo. Let's go. You're in the front with me, Darling."
Walking to Dickie's car, John feels good being the leader's favorite, sitting in front. Carrying his overnight satchels, John catches up with Andy. They bump fists; exchange grins, and then both giggle and squeeze their dicks because they get turned on, witnessing the kind of unhesitant confident dominance demonstrated so casually by Gary.
As they put their satchels in the trunk, Andy says, "Coming to your Cheyenne house has turned out awesome for us, hasn't it, Johnny?"
"I'll say. Before that, though, there was you being my savior. No way could I have gotten as far as this without you, and now with my super confident top, Gary, fucking me... as you said, it's turning out to be awesome! I love you fucking me, too, but Gary is one real deal confident hot-shit motherfucker, haha."
They both giggle, bumping against one another, their cowboy hats nearly bumping each other off their heads. John said, "Seriously, bro, thank you for everything you've done for me!"
"Aw, that's so nice of you to say, Darling, and I was thinking..."
Fat Gary yells, "Get your ass over here, pretty boy. Hurry up! I've been waiting for you to get your shit together all morning. C'mon now!"
John, grinning, cuts Andy off in mid-sentence, muttering, "Oh, shit, I'm in trouble again," immediately jogging over and getting in the passenger seat, smiling at Gary, "Sorry, Gary."
Ten seconds later, Andy gets in the back seat, snuggling against Dickie, who says, "Please! I'm texting! Give me an inch, alright?"
Gary fires up the engine, asking, "So, Dickie, have you found a better route to take?"
"No, it's what you thought, Gary... I-25 S to E County Road 50. There's no quicker way. It's how I always go there, anyway."
John asks, "Can I put the radio on?"
"Yeah, find some County Music."
"Um, country?"
"Duh! No, classical...."
John clicked around, pushing buttons until a guy on the radio said, "Right now, here comes a few of the genius Toby Keith's greatest hits." Both fat Gary and Dickie yelled, "That's the station!"
John nods, smiling as more of his Wyoming roots drift back into his brain. "Yeah, I love Toby Keith, too."
Dickie says, "Yeah, but he almost died."
Fat Gary goes, 'SHH! I'd like to hear the fucking song!"
Dickie whispers to Andy, who couldn't care less, not a fan of country music, "Don't worry. Toby's been recovering nicely." Andy shrugs as Gary yells, "DICKIE!"
"Sorry, Gary."
When Toby Keith is singing "Made In America," Gary, John, and Dickie all sing along with loud voices, not always in tune. Andy, from the Northeast, had never heard the song before, and the same for the song "American Soldier," that the trio sang with Keith too, getting some of the words wrong.
There was a lot of patriotism in that Monte Carlo now! And that includes Andy. Other country artists play after Toby, none impressing Andy at all, but Toby impressed him. Andy is smart enough to keep his opinions about the other country music playing on the radio to himself. He's wrong that there aren't other great country songs, though, but so are the Americans who prefer rap music. To each their own...
After a forty-two-minute eighty-five mile-an-hour drive, they're slowly cruising down Disneyland-esque Fort Collins main street with Gary asking, "I forget... Where do I turn, Dickie?"
"Up here at the traffic light, take a left and continue about four miles to Motel 6, which isn't too far from Colorado State University and that's less than three miles from the Budweiser Brewery. We really need to take the tour through the brewery; it's free, and you get free beer, too."
Andy murmurs, "Holy shit, look at the snow caps on the Rocky Mountains, wow! Fort Collins looks like it's a charming town."
Dickie says, "We don't use words like 'charming,' Nurse Salsbury; someone might think we're queer if they hear you talking like that."
Fat Gary mutters, "If they need to hear Nurse Salsbury say 'charming' before knowing he's queer, they're deaf and blind."
Andy says, "And you don't consider that an insult, I suppose."
"Be quiet, Andy," Dickie sounded bored, not angry when he said that, then he said, "The rooms are $59 a night. I reserved two rooms, Gary, but we need to still check in at the desk."
"Well, I would imagine so, ex-boyfriend. Um, I've been to Fort Collins a few times myself. They have like fifty breweries, right? I went there when I and some guys I graduated high school with went for the brewery tours. It's coming back to me now, but that was at least five years ago. This was a good call, Dickie!"
Dickie mutters, "I haven't been here in a couple of years myself. Um, it's twenty-four breweries, not fifty. And they're all craft beers you've probably never heard of, except for Budweiser, which isn't a craft beer, obviously."
John says, sounding excited, "You've already taught me a few things, Gary, and we've only been..."
Fat Gary says, "That's enough, Darling. You know how I hate brown-nosing!"
Smirking, John looks back at Andy, and they both nod, like... Now we've really got ourselves a couple of dominant boyfriends! Awesome!
Pulling into the Motel 6 parking lot, they see people inside the office checking in. Gary parks and turns in his seat, saying, "Dickie and I will pay for the rooms. You two stay here, so we don't need to go looking for you."
Andy asks, "Well, fuck, can we get out of the car, at least?"
John nods his head in agreement and waits for Gary's answer, but Dickie answers instead, "Yeah, you can get out, but stay with the car. Don't wander off like five-year-olds."
Gary gets out, muttering, "Yeah, pretty boy, same for you... do what Dickie said " Then to Dickie as they begin walking to the office front door, "How do you want to handle this, credit card or cash?" and they go inside to wait their turn.
Andy says, "Let's have a smoke. A Marlboro smoke, not weed."
They get out of the car, and John holds out his Marlboro Red box, "Gee, I feel so good, Andy. It's so cool how the chain of command goes from Gary to Dickie to you, with me looking up to all of you. It's so easy for me to be submissive in the group. I swear it gives me boners being with you three awesome guys, but as fantastic as that is... you know what? I'm getting a strong urge to reconnect with my roommate, Brian O'Neal. Last night, I dreamed about him. He was spanking me because I'd been with all three of you guys, getting fucked by all of you and loving it, too!"
Andy lights his cigarette and laughs, "Helluva dream, bro! Well, it was Brian who outed you to yourself, so you should reserve a special place in your gay heart for him. He opened a full range of life experiences for you. Ones you may have otherwise suppressed your whole life. "
"Yeah, of course, I have a place for Brian in my heart, and there's a big space for you too, Andy. As I've asked myself a dozen times, what would I have done without you?"
John leans against Andy, who kisses him, then says, "Gary was right. I babied you too much. He's a much better dominant top for you. He doesn't know how to baby his bottom boys. You need to obey him as if you're his child. Dickie says Gary has a bad temper, and he's strong as a fat ox, so don't mess it up with your wise-ass remarks, the ones that I'd always let slide. He won't."
"I know that, but Jeez, that's pretty much what I did with you, Andy. I was like your child, trying to be good. Ya know? With Gary, though, I'm trying to act older; although your babying me was so incredibly wonderful, I'll miss that. I'll always love you as my best-ever Boston coma and amnesia friend. Um, that didn't sound as important as I wanted it to... um... "
Yeah, but Andy loved the compliment anyway, acting like a shy, embarrassed girl being complimented on having big tits; Andy blushes, murmuring, "Aw, that's sweet, Darling. That's the sweetest thing to tell me..."
Adjusting his cowboy hat, John grabs Andy's arm, "Here come our boyfriends. Look sharp."
Walking toward them, Dickie calls out, "Don't you dare get in my car smoking cigarettes. You two can finish your smokes while walking down to rooms 23 and 24." Pointing, he added, "You can see the rooms from here. They're at the end there."
Nodding, Andy says, "Thanks, Dickie," and he takes John's hand, "C'mon, Darling. I'll get you there safely, and that was NOT babying you!" They both laugh, bumping against one another.
Ninety seconds later, they're at rooms 23 and 24; both doors open with Gary calling out, "Pretty boy, bring in our shit."
John grabs both satchels from the trunk as Andy gets Dickie's and his satchel, muttering, "I'll see you later, pretty boy."
They snicker at that, John saying, "Don't you start calling me that, too."
Inside Unit 23, John sees a basic motel room with a double bed, armless chair, TV, closet with some cheap wire hangers, and an old bureau. Gary was reading a brochure. Looking up, he put it down, saying, "Go to the vending machine around back and get us a couple of Cokes, then ask Dickie for your dildo and have him put some K-Y lube on some toilet paper or something. I need to get my rocks off before we have lunch or whatever it is Dickie has planned next for this trip."
"Okay, Gary," and John jogs off to the Coke machine. There aren't any Cokes, though, because it's a Pepsi machine. He gets four cans, goes to unit 24, and taps on the door. Andy opens it, "Come on in, Darling."
"I bought you guys sodas, and Gary wants me to get my dildo from Dickie's sex toy bag, and if we could use some K-Y jelly, that'd be very much appreciated."
The toilet flushes, and thirty seconds later Dickie comes out of the bathroom, drying his hands with a paper towel, asking, "Gary wants your dildo? So, he's sneaking in a Nooner, huh?"
Shrugging, "I guess. It's what he told me to do. I don't ask why, but it makes sense he's going to be doing that, yes, Dickie. Oh man, though, you and I could have had the best teen years ever if we knew what we know now, ya know?"
Dickie says, "If only we knew, Darling! Heh heh, Gary says you use ten words when one would do. You could have just said... yes. Hah! You're so fucking cute, though."
Andy's feeling jealous, so he interjects by hugging John as if he's protecting him, saying, "Please, Dickie, don't tease him. He's still very emotional from the things he's been through."
Dickie reaches over to rub John's head, "Sorry, best buddy ever... I forget what you've been though. I'll get a dildo for you, although it's not actually yours." As he's opening the satchel, he adds, "And you do know, I hope, that you're supposed to clean this thing really well after every use?"
"What?"
Handing the dildo to John, Dickie asks, "Does he want a cock ring too?"
Shaking his head, John mumbles, "I don't think so; at least he didn't mention it, so no, I guess."
"Hahaha, you could have just said... no."
Andy's like, "DICKIE! Be nice, please. I'm sorry I yelled, but you need to go easy with John Darling."
Dickie says, "Oh, like I don't know that? He and I are best friends, and we have been best friends since we were four-fucking-years-old. So, now you think you're giving me orders, nurse?"
Andy's shaking his head, mumbling, "No, I didn't mean anything..." but it's no use as Dickie gets him in one of Dickie's imitation-of-Gary's-headlock; Andy says, "Ow, come on, Dickie, I'm sorry."
Watching Dickie dragging Andy around the room in a headlock, Andy half laughing and half crying, "It hurts, Dickie!" John squeezes some K-Y gel on a pad of toilet paper, then says, "I'll see you guys later." He closes the door, taking the dildo and two cans of Pepsi to room 23, where fat Gary is lying on the bedspread wearing only his boxer shorts, his hands behind his head, his hairy, flabby body looking, ah, well, looking fat.
John puts the stuff on the bureau and snaps the tab on a can of Pepsi, handing the can to Gary, telling him, "There are, at a minimum, sixty million germs on that old bedspread you're lying on. Approximately eight ounces of semen, um, cum, is embedded in that disgusting original forty-year-old bedspread, the cum coming from many, many orgasms that people have been fucking out of each other over the long history of this dump of a Motel 6."
Sitting up, swallowing three gulps of Pepsi, Gary says, "This soda isn't cold! What the fuck?"
"And it's not a Coke, but it is what it is. I went to Dickie's room for the dildo, then came right here, so it isn't as if the soda got warm during that short time. The sodas were a dollar-fifty each even though the vending machine's refrigeration system must be fucked."
Gulping more warmish Pepsi, fat Gary asks, "What was it you said about this bedspread?"
Putting his cowboy hat on the bureau, John says, "Nothing, except I'm not getting near it. Do we have to use the dildo, Gary? We didn't last time."
Swinging his legs around, Gary sat up much more easily and athletically than a person as fat and hairy as Gary should be able to. "Yeah, pretty boy, we didn't use the anus-opening dildo last time, but if you recall, when I pushed my large-circumference boner up your ass, sound waves from your high-pitched scream were so loud that waves of the scream can still be heard vibrating out in space near the moon by now, probably. Older people's hearing aids popped out of their ears and left them frowning, thinking they heard the end of the world, and that's all they could hear. What I'm implying is, yes, we definitely do need to use the dildo to prevent that from happening again, if for no other reason."
John nods, "Okay," and he gets undressed, anxious to be dominantly fucked by his new boyfriend, fat Gary Thomas. He adds, "So far, in my experiences of getting fucked up the bum, dominant tops with two first names do it best."
Smiling, Gary goes, "Uh-huh, take off your girlie silk underpants, and let's get to it."
After tightly screwing the fat dildo in John's ass, John groaning but not otherwise complaining, Gary smacks John's butt cheeks, turns on the vibrator, and mutters, "While that's working, I need you to do a good job sucking my cock. It was feeling ignored."
Dropping to his knees, John makes a face, bites his bottom lip, and squirms his ass around in different positions until he finds the most comfortable position possible when having a vibrating dildo in your ass. It ends up being a position of staying on his two feet, hunching his butt down, almost touching the floor. It's the position he'd get in if he were loosening or tightening a car wheel's lug nuts while changing a flat tire. It's a shaky, unsteady position, but works best if you want to blow someone or change a flat tire with a vibrating dildo up your ass.
Picking up the heavy fat four-inch penis from Gary's dense black pubic hair, the hair the consistency of fine wire, John pushed Gary's fat log of a penis against his hairy belly and began licking all over Gary's scrotum; his tongue quickly got a half dozen pubic hairs stuck to it. He tried spitting the hairs off, then scraping his tongue against his teeth, but Gary swats the back of John's head, mumbling, "Stop messing around."
Forcing himself to ignore the wiry hairs, John goes back to licking Gary's big, low-hanging nuts while inhaling Micheal Jordan's 23 cologne. Huh, what? Does Gary put cologne on his balls?
Never having worn cologne, John figures maybe everybody puts cologne on their nuts, and he begins licking up the shaft of Gary's fatter-than-makes-any-sense fat penis... a short three-inch trip to the oversize head that John manages to get into his mouth, and then goes down on it. The head of Gary's hard penis was just long enough to partially spread his esophagus but not long enough to do any permanent damage. Up and down, lips desperately clinging onto John's teeth, up and down, clamping tightly on the garbage-can-size-circumference of Gary's further tightening-up pecker.
"That's good, Darling. Good job," and Gary pushes John's head away, muttering, "I want to cum up your ass, not down your throat."
Standing, John pulls back the covers on the bed and grabs hold of the mattress, pushing out with his arms while keeping his ass up. Behind him, Gary pulls out the dildo, John going, "Aaah!" Then, a reasonably contained scream from John when Gary's redwood forest-sized boner forces its way past John's prostate muscles and spreads his bowels significantly, but only four inches of his bowels experience that stretch.
Gary breathes deeply, then says, "Wow, you've got an excellent ass overall, better than Dickie's, except for your slightly loose anus."
In a strained voice, John mutters, "I call bullshit on that loose anus talk..."
Pulling back his boner, Gary begins steady fucking John's rectum, and all John can say now is, "Ah, ah, ah, ooh ohh, ohh! Omigod, Gary, it feels so good..." as Gary's floppy belly slaps against John's buttocks with every thrust, "Slap-flap, slap-flap, slap-flap, slap-flap."
It doesn't matter how fat Gary is or how skinny John is; Gary's penis and John's rectum are pleasure palaces of ecstasy, but it only lasts eighty-nine seconds before John's hips hump forward, him squealing like a pig being fucked by a horny hick farmer in the hills of Mississippi as a string of cum flies from John's stone boner to go 'SPLAT!' against the side of the sagging mattress.
Gary is strong enough to hold the now limp body of his submissive bottom boy for another thirty seconds or so, wild thrusting until Gary climaxes a good load of cum up John Darling's ass; then, Gary lets go of John, who falls forward onto the mattress moaning quietly in contented pleasure... "Oh, Gary, that was, ummm, so nice..."
Blinking fast, Gary shakes, then murmurs, "I know I've said this before, but it's so true. You've got an excellent ass for fucking. Primo ass that I might need to share with Alan Smarts to make him jealous."
"What? Who?"
Gary's already in the bathroom, though, so didn't hear John, not that he would have answered him anyway. John lies there, partially on the bed, for a minute, then pushes himself up, smiling and mumbling to himself, "This is so cool and so stress-free I can't believe my good luck. It's making up for all my bad luck in Boston." Then he hears, "Pretty boy, get in here!"
Grinning, John hurries into the bathroom, "What?"
"Get cleaned up. And do something about the cum running down the back of your legs so you don't spread cum all over the room. Try acting your age for once."
Wetting a washcloth, John mutters, "What fun is that? You're twenty-four and act like you're forty-four. I'm almost twenty-two and act like I'm fourteen, but who's having more fun?"
Shaking his head, Gary mutters, "Can I fucking believe I'm still losing this tug of war with you?" He pats John's shoulder, "If you're not scared of me, why do you do what I say?"
Drying the back of his legs, John says, "Because it's fun doing what I'm told and commiserating with my fellow submissive bottom boy, Andy, about how we sometimes can get away with something our dominant tops miss or aren't paying attention to. It's girlish childishness but fun, too!"
Frowning, Gary goes, "Childish, girlish? Watch that smart mouth of yours."
They walk out of the bathroom, John saying, "You love being grumpy and either telling me what to do or yelling when I do something wrong. That's your fun."
Getting dressed, Gary mumbles, "Yeah, that is fun, but it would be more fun if I actually followed through with threats of discipline."
John grins, "Yeah, too bad you never do that."
Gary's shaking his head, mumbling, "Dickie never figured out that I won't actually do discipline, only threaten to do it. Don't you dare tell him either."
John asks, with a big smile, "What will you do if I tell him?"
"Threaten to kick your ass."
John has his shirt on, stepping into his girlie panties, mumbling, "Except.."
"Except that I won't. I only pretend to be a bully when, in actuality, I abhor violence of any kind. How did you figure all this out and yet still obey me?"
"Honestly, Gary, I've been joking around about all of this, and now I don't know if you're joking around about it too or what. Are you really just pretending to be dominant?"
Gary mutters, "Nope," and grabs John, sitting on the room's only chair at the same time. He easily gets John lying across his lap, then spanks John's girlie panties and the buttocks under them, "Slap, slap, slap!" John squirmed, yelling, "OW! OW! OW!" but his side was being held too tightly against Gary's fat belly for John to get free. It isn't a pretend spanking; Gary's bare hand was an effective paddle, and when Gary stopped and said, "Get off me and stand up." John scrambled off Gary's lap and stood there, not talking. He had a tear, but he wasn't hurt much... a little stinging.
Gary stands, muttering, "Please, get your ass in the bathroom and clean up."
Gary's heart is pounding fast, but he's not sexually turned on at all by the spanking. He was being truthful about not liking violence, but he couldn't lose face allowing this skinny smart-ass, John Darling, to mock him. That concern overrode not liking violence. So, his heart is beating fast because he surprised himself by snapping like that, but he is glad he did, although it was mostly just symbolic. He knows he didn't hurt John.
John was impressed at how strong Gary was. Crazily, he thought it would be sexy being spanked, but he wasn't turned on at all, which surprised him a little bit. Keeping in his submissive role, he meekly comes out of the bathroom, his face washed, but his hair is a mess.
Gary rolled his eyes and said, "C'mon, Darling! Go back and comb your hair, then get dressed, and be quick about it. Meet the rest of us outside."
Without a word, John turns around and goes back to the bathroom to comb his hair. Gary goes outside, feeling shitty about spanking John. He sees Dickie leaning against his car, smoking. "Let me bum a cigarette, Dickie. I'll buy a pack when we're someplace that sells them."
Giving Gary a cigarette, Dickie says, and he's very serious, "You'd think the word 'phonetics' would be spelled with an 'F,' wouldn't you?"
Holding the cigarette, Gary gives him a look to see if he's serious, then laughs much harder than that idiotic remark deserves. Dickie's clueless silliness was a welcome relief to Gary after the unsavory spanking of Darling. "Yeah, Dickie, it should be an 'F,' but it's not."
Then, Gary adds, "Staying on the same intellectual platform as that, it occurred to me years ago that cremation is probably my only chance to have a smoking hot body."
Dickie, obviously not the sharpest knife in the kitchen, says, "Huh? Well, you've got years before you need to make that decision, Gary. It's kind of a ghoulish topic at our ages, don't ya think?"
Still chuckling, Gary says, "Yeah, it is."
Dickie asks, "Um, this is planning ahead, but what do you say about us switching submissive bottom boys for one fuck? Keep it fresh. Plus, Johnny Darling and I have been best buds forever, and I think he misses me. I only got to fuck him once, and I didn't even finish that."
"You claim that these relationship twosomes were your idea, and now you already want to change them? Seriously?"
Dickie feels great that Gary is at least treating him as an equal, so wants to encourage that, saying, "You're right, of course, it's too soon for that. I'm thinking we could try it as a one-time thing, say, um, a week from now."
Gary mutters, "Oh, I misunderstood. Yeah, a week from now, um, probably not, though. On the other hand, who knows what the future might bring? Plus, how do you think Darling and the nurse will feel about that?"
Shrugging, Dickie goes, "They'll do what they're told, but a gentler answer to that question is they'll get 'off' on the dominance of us telling them what we're going to do. Don't you think?"
Nodding, "Maybe, but right now, I'm not inclined to test that theory. I'm enjoying Darling too much to think about a change any time soon."
Gary did not feel good about spanking the pretty boy, but he hated to think how embarrassing it would be should Dickie see Darling saying some smart-ass comment and getting away with it. Then he notices John outside the room, apparently waiting for instructions near the door to room 23. "Come here, Darling."
John hurries over and leans against fat Gary, murmuring, "I'm sorry."
Ignoring John, Gary asks Dickie, "Where's the nurse? Let's get some lunch. That little breakfast sandwich was good but didn't satisfy this fat boy's hunger."
Dickie starts to check out room 24, but after taking two steps, Andy comes out of the room, saying, "I hope I didn't hold everyone up."
Dickie says, "Well, you did. I told you about that back at the house, didn't I?"
John leans against Gary, glad somebody else is in trouble this time, even if it is his best Boston buddy, Andy. Gary says, "Go ahead, pretty boy, get in the car." Then looking at Dickie. "This road trip was your idea, so do you have a place in mind for lunch?"
"Yeah, I do," and he gives Gary driving directions to a smallish bar called R-Bar and Lounge. "This place isn't very big, but it is a gay bar with nightly live music and dancing, plus a drag queen show a few nights a week, and the guys want to experience a gay bar."
Andy says, "My first gay bar, thanks, Dickie! And I've never seen a drag queen, but it sounds like something I'd like to be, ya know?"
John glances at Andy in the back seat, smiling like, 'Oh boy, me too!'
Fat Gary mutters, "You and pretty boy are eighty percent there already, nurse."
They find the bar and a close parking spot, then inside, they find It's not crowded and it's kinda dumpy. John, sticking very close to fat Gary now and not giving him any smart mouth, wonders where there's room in here to dance but doesn't say anything. They get a small table and endure the slow service, then have a nothing-special routine lunch of burgers, fries, and draft beers.
John kept his mouth shut during lunch, not wanting to get in any more trouble but liking his role as Gary's bad boy who needed discipline. It's a game to him. After lunch, disappointed in their first gay bar experience, Andy and John walk out together, Andy saying, "I don't think the bartender was even gay, do you?"
Shrugging, John whispers, "No, but I can't talk right now. I got in trouble back at the motel."
Andy whispers, "Ooh! Tell me about it as soon as you can."
At the car, fat Gary tells John, "Ride in the back seat with the nurse. Dickie needs to give me directions to the Budweiser Brewery."
In the backseat, Andy and John sit close, whispering nonsensical ideas for how their guys can fuck them and giggling like two girls on a sleepover fingering each other's pussy. Dickie turns around and says, "Both of you, knock it off!"
John and Andy make a face at each other but stop giggling. Then, looking at one another with their hands covering their mouths, getting red in the face, trying not to laugh.
At the brewery, they stand in line for the free forty-five-minute tour that includes a stop at the beer garden for free beer. The beer, supposedly, brewed less than ten hours ago, not that any of the four could tell if it was ten hours old or ten months old. A robust bald-headed man with horn-rimmed glasses and a pot belly so large it was attracting attention up and done the line asks Andy, "Is this your first trip to FoCo, dude?"
Andy, limp-wristed as if there are no bones in his arm, makes an exaggerated gay affection move of his head and shoulders, grinning and lisping, "Excuse me, but what's a foco?"
The pot-belly guy asks, "Are you a female with a man's haircut or a man undergoing that trans thing that's being shoved down our throats here in God's country?"
A heavy-set woman with a pale gray mustache says to the pot-bellied man, "Hugh! Stop it!" Then to Andy, "FoCo is what we locals call Fort Collins for short."
Dickie says, "If you're locals, what are you doing in line to see a brewery you see every day?"
She smiles, showing two missing teeth on the bottom under two oversized middle top teeth, and says, "Free ten-hour beer... that's our reason. We do the tour two, three times a week."
Nodding, Dickie goes, "Oh, yeah, uh-huh."
Fat Gary mutters, "Dickie," and shakes his head, like... Don't encourage them...
The tour included the Clydesdale barn, although the horses were somewhere else. Their guide, a twenty-something-year-old woman with a nose like a butternut squash, didn't know where the horses were. After the free beers, as they were heading back to the car, Gary said, "I'd forgotten how cool that tour is. What else have I forgotten that's cool to do in FoCo, Dickie?"
Dickie, who is walking with his arm around the back of Andy's neck, looking pleased with himself, says, "I can't believe you forgot that Budweiser tour, Gary. I've taken the brewery tour a number of times. Plus, there are other breweries in town. There's also the Museum of Discovery, The Garden on Spring Creek, a Ghost tour, a physical rock-climbing tour, and whatever the fuck else I've forgotten."
"Oh, yeah? Have you done any of those activities?"
Shaking his head, Dickie, mutters, "Um, no, pretty much just the brewery tours and gay bars at night."
They went on another brewery tour. This one was the New Belgium Brewery Co., and it was better than the Budweiser tour. Then, around five o'clock, with everyone half in the bag from all the free beer, they return to rooms 23 and 24 at Motel 6.
Getting out of the car, Gary, with his arm around John, who is lying against him, feeling woozy; Gary says, "I need a nap after drinking beer most of the afternoon, plus a shower after the nap. Let's meet out here around seven. Ah, Dickie, you pick a place for dinner and then a gay club with live music for after dinner."
Nodding, they split up.
Inside room 23, Gray lets go of John, saying, "You haven't said a dozen words all afternoon."
John mimics how Andy can act all submissively girlie-gay when he's trying to appear all vulnerable and, therefore, appealing to his man, murmuring, "I want to be good, Gary. You spanked me as if you meant it, and I got the message. No more back-talk to you. I'm really sorry about, um, earlier."
Gary goes, "Okay, I liked that... haha. Your shy, scared girlie acting thing you just did was cute. I like to see some really gay-acting shit from my bottom girls once in a while. I missed it with Dickie because he can't act girlie worth a shit. You do that okay, and it's better than needing to discipline you. Much better."
Hanging his head, John half-seriously says, "I'm really sorry. I like this better, too."
Gary sounds nice, cheerfully saying, "Well, I like what I've seen from you since, um, unfortunately, needing to spank you. Anyway, as my new boyfriend, how about sucking me off, and then we'll take a shower and a nap."
John asks, "Can I jerk off as I'm blowing you?"
Andy mutters, "I don't care," then he takes his shorts and underwear off and sits in the straight-back chair.
John drops to his knees, unzips, and pulls out his dick which is already firm because, for reasons he can't figure out, he gets sexually aroused by being around Gary. Stroking his cock with his right hand, John picks up Gary's goofy-fat soft four-inch cock with his left hand. Because he's fat, Gary's extra sweaty, the skin on his cock slippery with perspiration, his wiry dense pubic hair damp and smelly like wet wool.
The way Gary is so comfortable about being fat and sweaty, not giving a second thought to expecting his submissive boy to suck his fat sweaty penis and swallow his fat cum, is incredibly fascinating to John, who couldn't visualize ever doing any of that to anyone... ever! He can't imagine being like that but admires and is captivated by selfish, dominant guys who seem to believe they deserve to be obeyed and treated as if they're special.
Recognizing and understanding that gets John boned up a little as he is now. His dick got steel-hard as soon as he opened his mouth so wide his jaw made a cracking sound getting the head of Gary's fat sweaty cock on his tongue. Feeling ultra submissive, John licks all around the head, then covers his teeth and goes down on that fat cock, gagging when the head hits his esophagus. Working up a sweat himself, John goes down on it a dozen times, sweat dripping off his face.
Ignoring the sweat, John held his breath, then opened his jaws a tiny bit more so he wouldn't bite Gary's dick as he climaxed. Yeah, he climaxed climaxed before Gary did. John shot a load of cum between Gary's legs and the chair's legs. Gagging some more, he inhales through his nose, then lets go of his softening penis, strokes Gary's hard cock, and sucks on the head again.
Less than a minute later, Gary lifts his fat ass off the chair, grunts, "Ah, ahh, ahh!" and blows a load of extremely creamy thick cum into John's mouth and throat. Gagging like mad now, John pulls his head back just as Gary shoots a follow-up blast of cum, then pulls his sloppy cock out of John's mouth and mutters, "Good... you did good, pretty boy. Whew, haha, that was a damn good orgasm."
They both are standing now, John still swallowing, getting the last of Gary's thick creamy cum down his throat, murmuring, "Thanks for the compliment."
Rubbing John's head, Gary's like, "Okay. Do you remember what you need to do now?"
"Um, clean your penis?"
"Yep," and John drops to his knees, picks up Gary's sloppy penis, and deliberately does long, slow licks from the root to the head, all around Gary's flaccid cock, then all over his scrotum and the inside of his thighs, getting all cum remnants in his mouth and off Gary's privates. Sitting back on his heels, feeling proud he did a good job, looking up at Gary, John asks, "How'd I do?"
Gary smirks and rolls his eyes, "I didn't stop you because it felt good, but I meant to clean my dick with a washcloth and then dry it with a hand towel."
Jumping up to his feet, John's like, "Oh, of course, right away."
Done that, John washes his hands and face, brushes his teeth, and gargles with mouthwash, then gets in bed, rolling against Gary, who wraps him in his arms, murmuring, "Are we straight now, Darling? You know your place, and we won't have any more misunderstandings about you're wise-ass mouth, right?"
"Yes, Gary. You spanked me straight, and I know my place."
"Good, but I can't help but wonder why you have that silly smirk on your cutter-than-anything face?"
"What? No, I'm taking everything seriously, Gary!"
Gary squints, "Hmm, I hope so because I'd like, realistically, to be able to consider you my favorite boyfriend so far in my life. Maybe my last boyfriend ever. I've even given some thought to you and me forever. Whaddaya think the chances are for that?"
Gulp, "What?"
"For now, pretty boy, set your phone's alarm for five minutes of seven."
"Okay, Gary..."
To be continued... donnymumford@outlook.com
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