"Peter is After Me, Part Two" by Jay Roberts Gay Beginnings
Monday, Peter greeted me like a long lost brother. Geez, only two days since that last Friday night at the bar. I thought to myself that he was feeling guilty, he came too close to hitting on me and it could have wrecked our friendship. I tried to act normally the rest of the day, but when he suggested Digby's after work, I told him no.
You should have seen the almost crying face that he exhibited. His pink Irish face crinkled into sadness. I let him enjoy his misery for a moment, that I added, "It's getting too expensive for me. I have rent to pay and you don't." I suggest that we meet at my place. "I'll order up a pizza and put in a stock of a few six packs."
His face turned from a blubber to a happy grin. "I got some great 420 yesterday," he said miming smoking.
"And we can watch the ball game," I said encouragingly.
"Sure," he said, but without conviction.
I'm such a bad person. I knew he was like a big collie, happy to be included, but also I suspect, planning nefarious things for me to block. Ah, life's fun when someone is after you. I bad....
Monday is the worst day of the week for stock brokers. Our clients save up all their annoyances from weekend contacts with Uncle Joe and drinking buddies, all who tell them how bad their broker is handling their accounts. Finally to day was over and Peter said that he has to stop home and he'll be at my place by six or so.
Once I got home I straightened up the place a bit. I push my collection of dirty underwear under the couch and washed the week's dishes. Then I changed into a pair of sport shorts (no underwear, was that on purpose?) and a tee shirt. No shoes of course. I ordered the pizza and resisted cracking a beer, saving myself until big ol' Peter arrived.
It wasn't long. The downstairs buzzer rang and I rang back. He also had changed. Funny our shorts were both red. I had never seen him in a wife beater. Wow, he had big arms and I also noticed his trunk-like legs covered with fuzzy red hair, but the real turn on (what's with me?) was his exceptionally luxuriant underarm hair. It was like he had a red/gold toupee under each arm. I had a crazy desire to sniff them. I'm really going nuts here.
"Greetings Bobbie," he said, never having used that diminutive before. It soft of made me soft.
"What's first?" I asked, "Beer or smoke?"
"Neither," Peter said, "I brought my bong and we can smoke, yeah, but I also brought rum to drink for flavor. It's that dark Jamaican Rum, Mon," he said with a creditable accent.
"Let's go!"
Believe it or not, I've never used a bong. I usual packed my pipe. Peter was an expect and it was endearing to watch his little boy concentration as he prepared it, then taking out his Zippo, he fired it up. "Ah I am forgetting work. This stuff blots out the bad.. You ready Babe?"
'Babe'?? Aren't we getting to familiar, I thought, but said nothing and took the bong. I was conscious that Peter was watching me closely. I took a short draw and waited for the results. The first thing I noticed is that my body felt hot, but nice. I took a second, another short one. I held this one longer and I smiled benignly at Peter and noticed that his lips were pink, almost as if he wore lipstick. I guess it was natural. I also realized that he had such full lips, almost girlish.
"How's it?" he asked, a heavy hand on my bare shoulder.
"It' the shits!" I crowed, "But if I keep this up, it'll put me away."
"That's okay, you're home, and you're safe, I'm here as your wing man."
That sounded comfortable. I took a big hit this time. I know my face turned red and as it hit me, I staggered back, my calves against the couch and I fell back.
I laughed uproariously, feeling silly.
"You okay?"
"Couldn't be better."
"Wow your eyes are slitty and your lips are pursed. You look fucking cute."
He sat down next to me and took the bong. He took a mighty inhale and closed his eyes. When he opened them his pale blues were rolling in his whites. I reached out to steady him as he was weaving back and forth on the couch.
"Fuck," I said, keep my hand on his warm back, "I am horny. Maybe we better quit and rest or something."
Just then, the buzzer.
"What?" Peter asked, looking scared.
"It's not the police you dope, it's the pizza, but I can't get up. You answer."
Peter got up still holding the bong and pressed the buzzer. The kid must have ran up the stairs. I called to Peter. "It's all paid for on my credit card, tip too, just take it through the door."
But he must not have heard me, he looked out through the crack and then threw up the door and said, "Come in cutie."
I saw the box held in front of a skinny kid. He was short, maybe five three but he was a cutie, Peter was right. He had curly bond hair and pale perfect skin and real nice teeth he was showing as he surveyed us and the bong.
"Kin I have a drag, sir?"
"Sure," Peter said, handing the still lit bong.
This boy was an expert. He took a long pull then too more monster ones. As he handed it back to Peter, he said, "Man, that's sick stuff. I'm already up at the ceiling." Then looking at me on the couch, he said, "That boy's so high. Sup? Kin I play too?"
Peter took the pie from him and put in on a table. He took the kid by his hand and brought him to the couch, next to me. "Sit back. It's an orgy and you are invited."
"Wait," I said. "You can't invite a stranger."
"He's no stranger. He's our pizza boi," and he pushed me back against the cushions and began to pull my shorts off.
"See," Peter said, kneeling down, "He's ready to play, so lay back and enjoy the events of the evening.
Peter slid off his own shorts. His big fat pink baloney was tight against his six pack belly. He reached out a hand and wrapped it around the boi's long thin prick.
"It's got extra cheese, but it's no sausage," Peter said, laughing at his own joke.
I saw the opened bottle of rum with in reach and took a swallow. It was strong and nice. I handed it to pizza boi who helped himself with a swallow that seemed to say that he better take as much as he could before it was gone. Peter waved it away and began to slightly stimulate pizza boi whose name incidentally was Billy. Billy hiccupped from the rum and then moaned slightly. He really was cute, maybe not more than eighteen.
"Man, I am so hot, I haven't cum in three days."
"We'll fix that, little pizza boi, I think you are a fast cumer."
Billy nodded, lost in the feeling of Peter's big hand under his tight ball sac and the other hand stroking him rapidly.
A moment later I felt Billy's slim hand on my cock. I looked at him. He smiled and winked. "You're a hottie, I love that black curly hair 'round your cock. "You Jewish?"
"Yeah, how did you know?"
"No cover," he grunted, falling fast toward a sperm shoot out.
I am a big pre cum boy and Billy's hand was skidding over my shaft. He stopped as his orgasm hit him. He mewled like a calf and his cock spewed up in the air like a whale pout. It just kept coming and he was helpless while it was happened. Finally as the spurts lessened he slipped into a faint or a sleep.
Peter picked him up like a doll and put him under his arm and deposited him on the bed. Then he turned to me, a crooked leer on his face. "You're next. You gorgeous stock broker boy."
His own cock was still hard and pulsing as he sat next to me, his full thighs against my hairy ones. He touched my cock head with his thumb. "You sure are wet and dewy. You sure you didn't sneak one off when I was busy with Billy?"
"No that's the way I am. It's pre cum. Now if you're goin' do something to get me off, do it now while I'm high 'cause once I come down I'm goin' be mad and throw you out."
He giggled and opened his puffy lips and took my cock head inside. He suckled it and licked it. I felt a new high, as potent as the pot taking me on a ride. "Oh yeah, Peter, Peter, penis eater," I sang stupid and in a sex haze. Don't stop, it's so, so gooood."
"I try my best," mumbled Peter, speaking around my prick. Your pre cum is like honey. I can't wait to get the real stuff."
He took my cock deep inside his mouth and then began to swallow rapidly so that his throat was massaging my cock. I felt my thighs begin to rise. I grabbed a handful of his red hair and stiffened. Like the rain following lightening my cock began to spew. Peter kept swallowing my big quart of boy milk, moaning all the time. When I finished, I looked down at him. He was smiling gratefully at me.
"Peter, eh, do you want me to do you?"
He looked embarrassed and pointed. There puddling on the vinyl was a lot of sperm. "I came the same time as you."
He got up. "Hey, maybe we should do this more often. I can be your friend with benefits."
"I'll buy that," I said.
Pizza boy had awakened from our noise. He got up and turned around so that his skinny, pretty ass was toward us. He shook it. "Anyone want to fuck?"
Peter told him that we would order another time and will ask for Billy.
He gave us thumbs up and began to leave. "Wait!" I called, get dressed first.
End