JOHN DARLING'S COMA
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Gary pulls into the parking lot of Denny's Buford, Wyoming, apartment building. It's five of seven. Gary mumbles, "Oh good; we're five minutes early. Denny respects punctuality."
John says, "Jeez, he's not an asshole, is he? Are you saying he'd be pissed if we were a couple of minutes late?"
Reaching over and grabbing John's arm, Gary says, "Listen closely. If you are interested in us becoming long-term boyfriends, you'll have to talk less, and when you say something, be less of a smart-ass. I very much want us to make this work, but you'll need to do everything how I want it done. I'm the leader, Darling, and you're my silent sidekick. I'll ask your opinion or bring you into the conversation when I feel it's appropriate. Besides that, don't open your mouth, pay attention, smile, and look pretty. Okay? Think of yourself as a valuable, exotic ornament of mine. Think of me as your master and dominant top."
John's eyes got big as he swallowed noisily, his dick now a hard steel rod in his pants, "Yes, Daddy. I'll try."
Looking even more serious, Gary pats John's thigh and says, "Well, no. Don't try! Christ, don't you know that everything I just said was bullshit!" Smiling, he adds, "That was all a sarcastic joke. Don't ever agree with anybody about anything like that. Certainly not some fat ass like me. You know what? Huh, we don't get each other's humor, not at all, and that's a fact."
Frowning, John mutters, "I knew it was bullshit!"
Smiling and patting John's shoulder, Gary says, "Oh, sure you did. C'mon, let's see what Denny will give us for dinner. He considers himself a chef."
John's head is spinning as he gets out of the pickup, unconsciously bringing the bag of sex toys with him. Gary looks at John's hand clutching the bag of sex toys, "Haha, no. Leave the sex toys, pretty boy."
Blushing, John mutters, "Oh, yeah, haha. You've got my head spinning, Gary."
Grinning, Gary waits for John to catch up, then hugs him, murmuring, "Denny and Clarence are going to be so jealous when they see my shiny new pretty boyfriend."
Inside the building's first set of doors, Gary presses the button for Denny's apartment, and almost immediately, there's a buzzing sound. Gary pushes open the inside door as John mutters, "They didn't even ask who it is."
"They're expecting us. The elevator is to the right."
They take the elevator to the fifth floor, get off, and walk down the corridor to apartment 509. One knock and the door opens to reveal a dark-skinned African-American about Gary's age, meaning twenty-four. He grins at Gary, mumbling, "Let's see this new boyfriend of yours," and Gary pulls John from behind him to in front of him, saying, "Clarence, meet John Darling," and John shyly adds, "Junior. John Darling Junior."
Clarence laughs, then hugs John and kisses him on the mouth while Gary murmurs, "And that's Clarence Smith, Johnny."
Clarence holds John out, a hand on each of John's arms, saying, "Well, ain't you the prettiest thing I ever seen, John Darling Junior!" Then he yells, "Denny, come see Gary's pretty, blond-headed boyfriend. He prettier than your Ken doll."
This is embarrassing, but that's not why John's eyes are watering. They're stinging and watering because from Clarence's armpits comes the strongest body odor ever. John's never smelled BO like this before. John blinks and notices a short, stocky guy wearing an apron coming from behind Clarence, who has just walked out of the kitchen. He looks like he could be in his thirties, but John knows the guy is Gary's age.
The short, stocky, apron-wearing guy is Denny Morning, of course. His mouth is exaggeratingly forming a big 'O' looking thrilled as he says, "You motherfucker, Thomas! How does a fat fuck like you get a boyfriend like doll-face here?"
Then he barges past Clarence and hugs John, swinging him around. BO spreads in the hall from under Denny's arms, fanning and overriding the strong garlic smell of whatever he's cooking. This is what it must have been like in colonial times when bathing was considered unhealthy and the word 'deodorant' hadn't been invented yet, never mind the actual product, which would have come in very handy back then, and in this apartment right now, too.
Everyone is still standing in the apartment's doorway. Gary is not shy about getting right to the BO point, saying, "Jesus H. Christ, you two are even riper than usual. How can you stand it?"
Clarence lisps, sounding very French, "Oh, you and your sensitive nose! My honey and I go 'tout naturel.' This is our end-of-week natural human scent, baby! Right, Dennis?"
Dennis still has his arms around John, mumbling, "Oh, for Christ's sake, I don't even notice body odor anymore. Clarence has me bathing once a week with no phony colognes or deodorants to clog our pores. It's a very empowering feeling to embrace Nature. We've also been vegetarian for two months, as you know, Gary. Clarence is now convincing me to take the next step to vegan."
Gary smacks his forehead, "Oh, fuck. I forgot your vegetarian horse shit. Dammit, I was looking forward to one of your gourmet dinners, Denny."
Putting his face two inches from John's, Denny asks, "You like vegetables, don't you, John Darling, JUNIOR?"
Gary says, "To finish the introductions, for the record, Johnny, that's Dennis Morning hugging you."
Trying not to gag noticeably, John says, "Yes, vegetables are good for us."
Denny lets go of John and hugs Gary, kissing him as Clarence says, "Come on everybody, there are Manhattans in the kitchen, and don't you dare ask for anything else to drink. We're drinking Manhattans tonight."
When a neighbor, curious about all the chatter in the corridor, looks out his apartment's front door, Denny says, "Hi, Ricky!" Then ushers everyone inside. He closes the door as Clarence says, "In the sixties, everyone drank Manhattans. I made a huge pitcher of them, and I'm serving the cocktails in nineteen-fifties Manhattan stemware. You absolutely must drink Manhattan in proper stemware."
Everyone keeps walking into the kitchen, where Denny yells, "OH NO! My Butternut squash casserole is burning!" He checks the oven, "No, it was just something from last night's pita bread burning."
Clarence puts a cherry in each glass, then pours the ice-cold Manhattan mixture into stem glassware, saying, "These are iconic triangular glass-shaped stemware that screams... MANHATTAN COCKTAIL!"
Making a face, Gary asks, "Butternut squash casserole? What else is in that besides squash, Denny?"
"The traditional Butternut Squash casserole ingredients of Honey, Butternut squash, prunes, and ripe black olives."
John tries not to gag again, wiping his eyes and subtly moving away from Denny, sliding by Clarence, who doesn't smell as bad as Dennis, and getting on the other side of Gary, who smells like a rose garden by comparison."
Gary mutters, "Omigod, Denny, that casserole sounds ghastly."
The BO floating in the room is like a reverse air freshener, and John asks, "Ah, is it okay to smoke in here?"
Simultaneously, Clarence and Denny said, "NO!" Then Clarence says, "We're sorry, but we don't smoke, and you've read about the dangers of secondhand smoke, right?"
Gary snickers and says, "Well, how about the dangers from secondhand BO?"
Denny gives Gary the 'finger' as Clarence moves his head in some very gay way, muttering, "Don't listen to Gary. Your casserole smells good, Dennis," then passes out the Manhattan cocktails. Without commenting on Gary's 'ghastly' reference to the casserole, Denny taps his glass to Gary's, which reminds everyone to tap glasses.
Denny says a toast, "To us," and Gary mumbles, "To McDonald's," they all swallow. John chokes, and Gary pats his back, smirking at Denny and Clarence like, 'Ain't he adorable?'
After swallowing, Clarence looks at his cocktail, puzzled, as if somebody else made it, and mutters, "It's pretty much straight bourbon and bitters. There isn't a whole lot of sweet vermouth in this batch. I expected the ice to melt more... it's pretty strong."
His Manhattan cocktail is like drinking two inches of cold bourbon and eating an artificially-red-color Marchino cherry. John stays as close to Gary as possible, intrigued by what the three friends discuss. They argue as to how long a submissive sex partner can safely be made to wear a locked, metal chastity harness with a silicone anal plug. Clarence prefers the Gates of Hell Stainless Steel Locking Cage with a Urethral Insert. He excitedly tells them, "I saw one on sale for $79.99!"
John chugs down two cocktails in a half hour to counteract the fact that the BO floating heavily in the air is as potent as Agent Orange, then says his first words in the past forty minutes, "Um, excuse me, but may I use the bathroom?"
Clarence slides between Gary and John, getting an arm across John's shoulders. BO rises as he lisps, "How wonderfully polite you are, John Darling Junior; of course, you can use the bathroom. I'll go with you."
Gulping, tears in his eyes, John fakes a grin and nods, muttering, "Oh, haha, thanks, Clarence."
In the bathroom, Clarence asks, "Do you need any help?"
"Doing what? Um, you mean, do I need help peeing?"
Clarence says, "Help with that or anything else, Honey. I'm here for you."
He'd taken out his black penis, ruining the stereotype of foot-long penises our black brothers are alleged to have, a stereotype that John believed until now. This black brother has a five-inch, average-looking dick with a good-sized head and big balls hanging low under it.
As Clarence begins peeing, John unzips, staring now at Clarence's strong urine stream splashing into the toilet water, as he's mumbling, "No, I don't need help... I'm good," and he pulls his dick out and starts peeing, asking, "Would you mind, Clarence, if I, um, put my finger in your piss stream?"
Clarence lisps, "Not at all, Honey... go ahead." He lisps so perfectly, sounding so natural, that John's stopped trying to lisp. He mutters in his own natural, non-lisping voice, "Thanks," and reaches over and puts his index finger in Clarence's piss stream. It splatters on his hand, but not enough splatter to reach either of their legs. Clarence giggled, then lisps, "Let's have a taste."
John holds his finger to Clarence's mouth. He licks it, and then John sucks on the finger. Looking at Clarence, John mutters, "Salty."
Clarence, giggling like a girl, puts his finger in John's piss stream, and they take turns tasting that. John nods, mumbling, "Not as salty, do you think?" which makes Clarence giggle harder, but John is serious.
Letting John suck his urine finger, Clarence smiles and says, "You're right. It's quite refreshing. Um, I'll be happy to suck your pipe, Sweet Stuff."
The smallish bathroom is totally inundated with Clarence's BO by now. It's burning John's eyes, and so strong he can almost see it floating in the air. Still, how can he turn down a blowjob when he's had no sex in over twenty-four hours and no expectations of sex later tonight?
John says, "Sure, thanks," and pulls his pants down, no longer self-conscious about his shaved pubes. He intends to keep the shaved look from when he first tried on his girlie panties, and Andy had to shave him to make the panties look and feel sexy.
Clarence says, "I shave my pubes, too," and he gets on his knees, hungry for a taste of cock. Without using his fingers, he sucks John's dick into his mouth and does something with his tongue that feels so good John needs to cover his mouth and hold his breath to keep from squealing like a four-year-old girl on Christmas morning seeing the dollhouse of her four-year-old dreams under the tree. It would be too high-pitched and shrill of a squeal to let out in this small space. Eardrums could have been damaged.
Surviving that initial shock, John's hands go to Clarence's head, his fingers in the surprisingly soft, thick, curly hair that's just long enough for John to get a fistful, pulling on it while Clarence's hand comes up to cover John's mouth just in time. John yells, "AAH! AHH! AH!" and shakes as he blows a hard stream of cum into Clarence's mouth.
It was a forty-seconds blowjob that beat any blowjob of any length that John could recall.
Clarence swallows, sucks on John's softening cock, then lets it fall out of his mouth. Standing, swallowing again, Clarence says, "Wow, you youngsters cum fast, huh?"
Not even noticing the BO now, John squeezes his saliva-saturated limp dick, then puts it away, nodding and mumbling, "Yeah, I guess. Wow, that was, um, holy shit... that was something alright. Thanks, Clarence."
They both wash their hands at the sink. Doing that, John sees, directly in front of him, on a shelf, a half-empty or half-full bottle of Giorgio Armani Men Eau de Toilette. Drying his hands, he points at the bottle, asking Clarence, "Do you mind if I use a little, um...?"
Clarence is swishing his tongue around, still tasting John's sperm, shaking his head, then mumbling, "No, I don't mind at all; it's Denny's, but he's stopped using fake scents covering his real one. Be my guest, Honey." Then, misunderstanding why John wants to use the cologne, he says, "Use however much you want, but you already smell good enough to eat."
John grabs the bottle, muttering, "Uh huh, thanks, it's just, um, I won't use much, it's just..." When Clarence turns for a hand towel, John puts a few drops of the cologne, or whatever Eau de Toilette means, on his finger and rubs it under his nose and quickly inside each nostril. It's a strong scent, not something John would choose, but it is a relief from the BO.
Later, after a third Manhattan, the Toilette stuff was further helpful by negatively affecting the olfactory tract that would normally go directly to the piriform cortex in the medial temporal lobe, which affects his taste buds tasting of Denny's bizarre vegetarian dinner that John's eating.
Along with strong red wine in balloon wine glasses from Clarence, Denny served the squash, prunes, and ripe black olives casserole, an anchovy pasta dish served with lemon and more olives, and a vegetable mixture that reeked of garlic. For dessert, he served Olive oil, lemon cheesecake, and strong coffee.
Then, as if they needed more straight alcohol, brandy is in brandy snifter drinks. Clarence is big on serving drinks in proper glassware. Sitting at the dinner table drinking brandy, John listens to the three friends' exaggerated stories of things they'd done together. Through drunk eyes, he watched and listened without really comprehending the essence of the stories. When they'd all laugh hysterically, he'd smile and maybe do a little chuckle without knowing what was funny.
John was mostly thinking of Clarence's blowjob, staring at Clarence, who was very black but with incongruous, very European boyish facial features. Not African at all! He looked like a tall Oliver Twist in blackface makeup. He was cute! He's very tall and slim, with that soft, dense hair that feels good in John's fist. John kept running over in his head how he climaxed down Clarence's throat with the force of a Mack Truck going a hundred miles an hour on a dead-end street and hitting a stone wall.
Watching Clarence laugh, John notices Clarance is one of those who open their mouth as wide as it will open when laughing, and everything inside his mouth is a bubble-gum-pink color or super white for his straight teeth. Now that the Eau de Toilette partially covered up his BO, John was quite smitten by Clarence, the only one of the three who would look at John with a smile now and then. He had that slightly arrogant look in his eyes as if promising something. It made John's dick quiver. When Clarence looked at him, John would smile shyly back at him and nod his head slightly, basically agreeing to whatever Clarence may have in mind.
John drank whatever Clarence refilled his snifter with, but Gary, being responsible, had stopped drinking after one brandy because he'd be driving them home, and they had work tomorrow. Gary finally told John, "No more after that, Darling. Work tomorrow."
Gary, conscious of calories, had only part of that one Manhattan, no wine, half a brandy, and hardly any vegetarian dinner.
John, on the other hand, had too much of everything, including the dinner, that he could hardly taste. Then, yeah, Clarence poured more brandy into John's glass when Gary wasn't looking and when he was taking a piss. John and Clarence exchanged smirks, and then Clarence asked, "Have you white boys ever heard of William James Sidis?"
Shaking his head, Denny, who was not cute at all, muttered, "We're fucking mechanics, Clarence, not college professors like you. So, no, we've never heard of James-whatshisname."
Clarence says, "William James Sidie was the smartest man who ever lived. His IQ was 250+ and blah, blah, blah..."
John couldn't follow much of the conversation, being drunk and all, plus not interested in it in the first place. He kept his mouth shut, alternating staring at Clarence and then at Gary while thinking about sex. The guys are now talking about pointless things, like men's nipples. Gary says, "How about the Universe? It's pointless, as far as anybody knows... there's no point to it. It just is."
John couldn't care less how pointless the Universe is. He was imagining how hot it would be if Clarence fucked him, and then Clarence caught John staring at him with that swooning look in his eyes, or maybe it was just a look drunks have in his eyes.
Someone said, "Oh, really? Then who made God?" There was a discussion about God, then the string theory, and Clarence mentioned that Steven Weinberg, whoever he was, claimed the Universe couldn't care less about Earth, a dust mote," blah, blah. blah... "Entropy"... "Multiverse...
"Whaaaat?"
Seemingly from far away, John hears, "Is he alright, Gary?" Then, "Darling! Wake up; it's time to leave."
"Huh? What? Oh, okay, but I need to pee."
Denny says, "Oh, before you leave, Gary, I've got this work order for tomorrow, and I wanna see if you know how a carburetor could get..."
John doesn't hear more because he's in the little bathroom, pissing, feeling dizzy, and not thinking about much. The bathroom door opens, and Clarence says, "Drop your pants, and I'll give you what you want. I saw you drooling over me all night."
The BO smell is again very noticeable; the Eau de Toilette on John's upper lip and his nostrils have lost some power. As Clarence pisses, he says, "Reach in my right pocket for a condom."
In a stupor, John's done peeing and has his pants down already, reaching into Clarence's pocket and pulling out a condom packet as Clarence's piss stream runs out. Turning around, Clarence mutters, "Give it a good sucking," holding his dick out to John.
John gets on his knees and, without any hesitation, sucks Clarence's dick, tasting urine which gets his dick tightening up like a motherfucker, as he groans, grabbing his junk, then humming, "Mmmmm," on the head of Clarence's cock getting it vibrating.
Clarence pushes John's head away, muttering, "I'm about to come in your girlie mouth, so stop."
John pulls on his boner as Clarence rolls the condom on his, telling John, "Get up, turn around, and bend over with your hands on your knees. Now, we need to be quick."
With a moan of arousal, John does what he's told, and Clarence mounts him, then pushes all five-plus inches of hard cock all the way up John's ass. Omigod that felt good to both of them. After recently feeling Gary's crazily wide cock forced up John's rectum, Clarence's normal-sized one felt like a nice recreationally buddy fuck between friends... a quickie, ya know?
It was a quickie, too. Clarence thrusts wildly right from the start, and John is justled mightily, moaning and stroking his hard-on. Clarence actually climaxed before John, his cock fully impaling John; he humped against his buttocks filling the condom and groaning quietly, "Oh, ooh... fuck, yeah."
Being a good guy, Clarence continued thrusting until John blew off his second climax of the night, sighing, "Oooh, that felt so good, Clarence."
Pulling his cock out and flushing the condom, Clarence zippered up, then pulled John's pants up for him, some of John's cum getting wiped off in his girlie panties; Clarence said, "You're my kind of pussy, Darling. You do what you're told. Ah, give me your phone."
John eagerly handed over his phone, and Clarence typed the number into his phone, mumbling, "I'll call you."
They were in the bathroom for barely four minutes. Outside, in the hall, they hear Gary saying something to Denny in the bedroom, so Clarences pushes John against the wall, gropes John's crotch, and gives him a sloppy kiss, then licks up John's face and across his forehead. His tongue licked off the Eau de Toilette stuff from John's top lip, and BO swarmed up his nose, but it smelled okay to John now as he hugged Clarence, who stopped licking John's face and said, "Don't say anything about us to anybody. I'll fit you in when I can get away from Dennis without him being suspicious, but I won't be able to do it daily."
"What?"
Clarence pulls John with him so that they're back in the kitchen. Gary and Denny walk in, Gary carrying John's hoodie. They all hug goodbye, and Gary and John are soon on the sidewalk, inhaling fresh air deeply. Gary, who is sober, laughs, saying, "Wasn't that BO ghastly? GAWD!"
John, who was drunk as a skunk, shrugs, "What? Oh, Clarence's BO wasn't so bad."
Gary frowns at that but knows John's very drunk, so doesn't think anything more about it. On the ride to Gary's apartment, John falls asleep. Then, in the apartment's parking lot, Gary wakes John up and, carrying the bag of sex toys, guides half-asleep John into the elevator and then down the hall to the apartment.
Inside, Gary mumbles, "Jesus, we have BO on our clothes and probably our skin and hair."
John's drunk, and he's been fucked well by Clarence, so he doesn't notice BO, and now he doesn't need to mention sex to Gary before bed.
Still smelling like BO from last night, they oversleep the next morning, needing showers in the worst way, so sex isn't mentioned then, either. They shower with John's wicked hangover, making him act like a zombie. Gary mostly bathed John in the shower, then made him take three Tylenol and drink a big orange juice. Babying John, in other words.
Ready to leave for work, Gary shakes his head slightly, looking at how disheveled John's hair is. He holds John's head steady, gripping his chin so he can recomb John's hair, mumbling, "It's my fault you're totally fucked up this morning. I should never have taken you out on a work night, especially knowing how much those guys like to drink."
John likes being babied like this, smirking because Gary swore he wouldn't be doing any babying, and now that's exactly what he's doing. John, acting helpless, mutters, "Thanks, Daddy."
Gary chuckles, "If I find out you're faking this helpless act. But oh shit... oh man, you're so cute, though! C'mon, pretty boy, let's get to work."
At work, John started reporting to Dickie, who shook his head and pointed outside, where old Walter Sylvester was grumpily wetting down a used car with a hose. Dickie mutters, "Your hair looks nice, Johnny, but other than that, you look like shit. Hungover, huh?"
John nods, "Like a motherfucker," and Dickie chuckles, "Hang in there, best buddy."
Walter is not pleasant, asking, "Are you fucking aware what time we start working at Marshall's Auto Repair?"
John says, "I'm sorry, Walt. Yes, I know we start at seven o'clock, and I know it's two minutes after seven, but I punched in at seven on the nose. It took me two minutes to get out here."
Walter says, "Don't think for a second I don't know you were mocking me with your bullshit ramblings. At the first of the year, if I put a thumbs down on you, you're fired. Think about that the next time you want to be a smart ass."
That was the highlight of John's day, and it quickly went downhill from there. With temperatures in the forties on a cloudy day, Walter ran John ragged washing and detailing cars from morning until four o'clock when they finished the last used car. Walter said, "Gather up all the equipment and store it away properly. I'll be logging our workload today into that computer device. Tomorrow, we're changing oil and filters, plus checking the fluids for the entire Bronko Taxi fleet... twenty-five taxis."
John nods, not having the strength or inclination to remind Walter that he won't be here tomorrow since he only works Mondays and Tuesdays. Heh-heh, John grins, imagining how pissed off Walter is going to be when he realizes he'll have nobody to boss around and do his dirty work for him.
Gary was in a bad mood driving to the apartment because he needed to work all day in the garage bay, and he had a sore bruise on his right hand. The first job of the day was installing a new car battery, but it slipped and caught his hand between the battery and bracket. He's muttering, "I should know better than to party on a weeknight. I wasn't thinking about safety on the job because of being tired."
When he heard about it during lunch, John still felt so bad he couldn't think of anything encouraging to tell Gary, so he muttered, "I'm sorry, Gary."
Gary snapped back, "Why are you sorry? You weren't there, you..." Then he goes, "No, I'm sorry for snapping at you. Let's take a nap when we get home."
John thinks, 'Home? Since regaining my memory, no place has felt like 'home.' My parent's house should feel like home, except they're dead, and the house constantly reminds me of that. I don't feel I should be there without them. Gary's apartment he calls 'our apartment,' but I don't feel that way, and it certainly doesn't feel like 'home' to me. Living in the hotel felt like living in a hotel with my best Massachusetts friend, Andy Salsbury... not home!'
Tuesday's work day finally ended, and when he was finally inside the apartment, Gary grabbed John and rubbed his head affectionately, mumbling, "That was one sucky day, but I don't want to take my bad day out on you, Darling." John leans against him, and Gary hugs him, murmuring, "That's my good pretty boy. We'll nap for a while."
In the bedroom, he says, "Get undressed down to your underpants, and we'll take our nap in bed under the covers. When we awaken, maybe we'll feel like getting intimate, huh?" He smiles and hugs John again.
John mumbles, "I'd like that, and, um, I'm really glad to be here with you in our apartment, Gary."
He leans against Gary again, hugging Gary's fat waist. Then, as his eyes tear up, getting emotional, he knows that Gary won't like that, so John rubs his face against Gary's shoulder, wiping away the tears as Gary rubs John's head again, murmuring, "What a nice thing to tell me, Johnny. Thank you."
They sleep in one another's arms until ten after seven, waking up feeling better, but neither of them wants booze or cigarettes. They need soup and then more sleep, but first, Gary kisses the side of John's face, murmuring in his ear, "Do you feel amorous, pretty boy?"
Smiling, John nods enthusiastically, so Gary sends him for K-Y lubricant from the bathroom and one of the new dildos from the bag John dropped on the bureau last night. Holding the tube of lube, John gets back in bed, passing the Loverboy 9-inch vibrating dildo with attached balls to Gary, who holds it up with his fist at the bottom, gripping the fake nuts. Squeezing lubricant on his hand, John spreads the lube by stroking all nine inches of the dildo, feeling his balls tighten up as he imagines this long, fat dildo up his ass.
Gary pushes John's hand away, mumbling, "Lubricate your asshole now, pretty boy, and then turn around on your hands and knees."
John does that, and Gary begins feeding the dildo past the inside and outside prostate muscles, screwing it in once the big head has opened his anus enough to get inside. John holds his breath, dealing with some pain, but wouldn't even consider telling Gary to stop. This kind of pain is almost a pleasure and soon will be all pleasure.
When it's halfway up his ass, Gary turns on the vibrating feature, and John starts squirming and grunting, his cock swinging limply between his legs. The further up his ass the dildo goes, the wider the shaft of the dildo, and it becomes very uncomfortable, so Gary squeezes John's buttocks, encouraging him until he gets the entire dildo inside John's rectum. The fake balls push John's real balls out and up against his limp cock.
Gary says, "Okay, hop off the bed and walk around getting used to your stretched asshole."
John slides off the mattress but can't stand up straight at first because the dildo is like a wooden pole up his ass. Gary says, "Stand up and up, a little at a time. C'mon Johnny, you chose that dildo."
No, actually, it was the first item Gary chose in the shop.
In only two minutes, John's cock was hard, and he could walk around in the bedroom, almost standing upright. He said, "It's feeling much better, Gary. Damn, it's up further than any cock has ever been up there, and that wooden hard head on the dildo is feeling sexy, and the vibrating is so smooth... really, really nice. Then, continuing his commentary, he says, "Ow! Oh, now the dildo's hard balls are causing stabs of pain in my nuts, but it's kind of a thrill-type stab of pain. "
Gary says, "Okay, that should be long enough," and John mumbles, "Oh, please, Gary. Let me wear it a little longer. My boner is throbbing and feeling awesome now."
After returning to bed and pulling the covers down, Gary says, "Two minutes more, that's all!"
John mutters, "Ah, c'mon," and Gary sternly says, "Two minutes!"
It is closer to three minutes when John backs up to Gary, lying on the bed naked. He turns off the vibrator and then carefully takes the dildo out, leaving John's anus nicely wide open. Running a finger around the wide-open anus, Gary mutters, "Very nice. That dildo is worth every penny you paid for it. Okay, suck a boner on my cock."
Climbing up on the bed, John kneels between Gary's legs and gently picks up his almost flaccid penis. It's too fat ever to be loosely flaccid as John's cock is most of the time. Stroking the foreskin on and off the very wide head, John moves his eyes at the top of their sockets, looking into Gary's eyes as he opens his mouth very wide and slides Gary's cock into his mouth on his tongue, moving it back and forth, back and forth, working up a lot of warm saliva. That cock is a mouthful and getting even bigger!
The stroking and movement on John's wet warm tongue quickly got Gary's penis quite hard. Gary's sucking his lips the whole time, grunting, "Umm, umm," and then, "Um, okay, that's good..."
John back his mouth off the hard, fatter-than-shit dick and, with just the head held between John's lips, he squeezes lubricant onto his fingers, then reaches behind him to put more lube inside his ass, lots of it. With his tongue pushing at the piss slip of Gary's wide, swollen penis head, he squeezes out more lube and then backs off the head and covers it with the lubricant, rubbing it around and around until precum drools out the piss slip. Gary bats John's hand away, muttering, "Stop it!"
John grins and leans over to lick off the precum; tasting the slippery substance, he nods, muttering, "Tasteless..."
Gary says, "Stop fooling around and come up further on the bed on your hands and knees."
John walks on his hands and knees to where Gary pointed. Then Gary, his cock so hard it doesn't even bounce as he gets up on his knees behind John, his boner shining with lubricant, but it's his two fingers he pushes inside John's anus, saying, "I'm so psyched to do this. Once I mount you, I probably won't last very long," and again he rubs all around the wide opened anus.
After the thrill of the dildo, when Gary plugs the wide, hard head of his boner in John's anus, John merely grunts, "Aaah!" then, "Yeah, Gary. I love your hard cock in my ass..."
An open hand "SMACK!" on John's butt cheek, Gary making the 'Shhh' sound, adding, "Don't talk. Just enjoy getting fucked hard."
"Yes, Daddy..."
Gary's stubby, four-inch, extremely fat boner ignites a million nerve endings. Their first impulse was to cause pain, and John groaned, "Ahh!" but in mere seconds, the nerve endings were like, 'Oh! It's the other sensation we want,' and the pleasure spreads, making John shiver and smile brightly. The dildo had been way up his ass much further, obviously, than Gary's boner, but it wasn't nearly as fat, so it couldn't stimulate the nerve endings in John's prostate and anus the way the fat boner does. After a few fat thrusts, John is in a trance of sexual pleasure.
"Smack, smack, smack," Gary's crotch smacks into John's buttocks with each thrust of that bigger-than-necessary boner. Every four-inch trip back and forth in John's ass creates a tsunami of pleasure sensations, leaving John paralyzed in a state of euphoria. He doesn't want to move from the "Slap, slap, slap" sounds, but soon the sounds are changing as wetness from ass juices and melding lubricant wet John's butt cheeks.
Soon, Gary knows he's getting near his climax's tipping point as Gary's grunting and thrusting faster and harder until, "Ummm... ahhh!" he slams into John's buttocks, holds his body there, shaking and filling John's bowels with a lot of cum.
Without pulling his boner back, Gary humped against John's buttocks, then again, almost blacking out from the waves of pleasure coming off his penis. He moans, "Ooh, mmm," and starts thrusting again, and now it's squishy and sloppy, with his cum splattering out with each thrust.
Envisioning that scenario in his head puts John over the top, and he squeals like a pig having a difficult birthing experience; John's cum roars up from his nuts, splashing sloppily out onto the sheet.
John grabs his cock, squeezing as he shakes, feeling the heat all around his groin spreading out, making him quietly gasp, "Ahhh, ooh..." then rolls over against Gary, who had just pulled his fat cock out and was lying on his back.'
Gary hugs John, "I'm going to miss this so much, pretty boy. I'm addicted to you, and now I'm somehow supposed to go three weeks without you. Goddamn, how's that gonna work?"
"I don't want to go three weeks without you either. Why can't I come with you or at least visit you on weekends?"
Gary yells, "Jesus, Darling! Your knee is crushing my fucking nuts! Move down a little!"
John rustles around, murmuring, "I'm sorry. Is this okay?"
Rubbing his nose in the hair on the side of John's head, Gary murmurs, "Yes, it's perfect. Shit, I don't know why you put up with me constantly yelling at you. I lose my temper too easily."
"That's okay, Gary. You're my man, and you need to stay on top of me, or I could get a little out of control. I understand that, and I like you being stern."
Gary squeezes John, then murmurs, "Yeah, well, you do need someone stern guiding you through life, at least until you can get over the trauma you've been through and, um, start acting your age."
John, still not sure why he's so attracted to Gary, can't stop snuggling against him. Getting another boner, he mutters, "So, can I come with you?"
"No, and I'm not yelling at you. I'm just politely asking you to stop nagging me about that."
"Why can't I come with you?"
"Goddammit! You know I don't like that whiny voice!"
Then, taking a deep breath and sounding calmer, "Sorry for yelling, but nobody likes a whiner. Do that lisping thing. That makes me grin. Um, and you can't come with me because it's a three-week course studying the latest computers and software currently being used in luxury automobiles, a three-month course in a compacted three weeks, seven days a week, ten hours a day, plus a study program at night. Whew!"
"Oh, fuck..."
"Yeah, but I need to do it if I'm going to qualify for a diploma of high-performance technician, which means a higher hourly wage. You and I have managed to live most of our lives without one another, so we should be okay for three weeks apart." He kisses John, adding, "But I'm thrilled you want to be with me. Thank you, Johnny."
Later, Gary tries to make up for yelling at John all the time by preparing, instead of soup, a pork chop, and baked bean dinner with a salad and apple sauce on the side for John. Neither of them drank anything with alcohol in it, and as John ate his dinner, Gary dragged out eating his dinner, which was a two-hundred calorie lean cuisine frozen dinner. At one point, John took pity and held out a forkful of brown sugar-sweetened baked beans that Gary mouthed off the fork, closing his eyes and murmuring, "Mmmm, thanks, pretty boy..."
After dinner, Gary told John to clean up the kitchen while packing for his three-week seminar. In bed by nine, Gary fucked John without using the dildo, just twice as much K-Y jelly, and while it hurt John at first, it also provided him double the pleasure before it was over. It was the same fabulous experience for Gary either way, but he wanted to do something special for John.
In the morning, Gary said John could come to work; he'll probably start working every Wednesday because Mr. Marshall was working on a plan to do car detailing on the side. John was ready for more sex, but Gary was all business.
Then John finds out he will be working this morning. He hadn't realized that, but yep, he worked for old man Sylvester while Gary closed out his business in the office and finished a project in the garage. Walter worked John hard, and John was a mess of grease and oil spots on his clothing when Gary saved him, telling Walt, I need him to give me a ride to the airport, Walt."
For the first time in his life, John had grease under his fingernails, smudges of it on his face, and in his hair. He sat in the passenger seat as Gary drove them to the airport. Once Gary is inside security, John will drive the pickup back to the apartment. Running his fingers through his hair, John whined, "I've got grease in my fucking hair..."
"Don't whine!"
Then, mad at himself for being so critical, Gary softly says, "As soon as I get back, pretty boy, we'll go to Randy's Barbershop and get matching Wyoming Cowboy Flattop haircut, so don't worry about a little grease in your hair. Okay?"
"Okay, Gary. I'm kind of excited about that. I've never had a nineteen-fifty style flattop haircut."
Then he puts on his cowboy hat and rubs his fingers along the top of Gary's flattop, saying, "I like the feel of this, and I'm almost addicted to your beard and all your body hair now. Goddammit, can't I visit you?"
"Stop it! I'll be too busy. Don't touch me when I'm driving! For Christ's sake, use your brain for once."
"Sorry, I just wanted..."
"SHH! Let me concentrate on driving..."
John looks at Gary, thinking, 'My man gives me boners," then he mutters, "I'm going to miss you."
Gary glances at him, "That's my pretty boy," and they smile at each other, John gulping and pulling at the crotch of his jeans...
To be continued... donnymumford@outlook.com
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