I stood on a stage, well, sort of sitting on a platform thing dressed with only a fake olive branch and it's stuck in my hair. I couldn't move. At least I'm not allowed. Everyone is staring at me, all of me and they are studying my curves and dimples and my personal pride and joy, my stick of happiness. Scrutinizing it and attempting to recreate it on their easels in front of them. Good thing I shaved this morning. Shaved and trimmed. I didn't expect to be put up here today or actually, well, ever.
I guess I should start from the beginning or as near as the beginning as I can to make sense to this crazy gaffe.
There's a difference between needing money and wanting money. I needed some money, but honestly I wanted money. I thought about it more than I should I guess. I loved those fancy sports cars, not like Ferraris and Lambos, okay, I loved the fantasy cars, but I drooled over the Nissan 370 and the GTR. They were enough to make me hard. Not literally. I once heard about a guy who shoved himself up a tailpipe of his Camaro because he loved it. I'm not a looney nut job like that. Okay, I'm a bit of a crazy bastard, but not that far.
First school day of the year and I'm pretty optomisitic it'll work out. "Stop playing with your food Daniel." Mom said, "Honestly, your like a four year old." She knows I hate being called Daniel, but she has been doing it for so long I guess I've resigned to the fact that she'll call me that till the day I die.
"Dan. Mom. You make me sound like I am four years old so I might as well act like one" I sauced back. Just because it was an old argument and I won't win doesn't mean I gotta take it and not say anything back.
"First day back. You don't sound like your worried."
"What could school throw at me that was worse than him?"
"True. Which reminds me, I have a meeting with the lawyer after work. You'll have to find something to eat yourself. Maybe the left over porkchops or some spagetti or--"
"Mom! I know how to work the microwave. I've done it before. Can I borrow twenty bucks?"
"Daniel. You know we're short this month. What for?"
"Never mind Mom. It's not important. Maybe if the sperm donor paid his child support I could actually not look like such a poor hot kid."
"You are so humble. Get to school. I won't be home till like eight."
"Yah yah. Have a good day."
"I love you Daniel."
"Love you too Ma." I said and she gave me a kiss on the cheek. Our morning ritual was over and I was out the door. I had to walk a block, take a bus for about ten and was at our glorious school. "Philmore Composite Highschool."
Parents drove many of their little peeps to the first day of school and then of course the students who were rich brought their rides, most of them pieces of shit, but all shined up anyway, like they were going to impress someone with a shiny piece of shit. I wasn't one of those, impressed or able to impress anyone with my ride.
"Yo Danny boy!" I heard the yell from accross the lot. His voice was familiar.
"Yo Brock. Sup"
"First day back at jail eh."
"C'mon. You know I like this shit."
"Guess I'm just not like you eh." and with a pause and a grin he added, "I got a pecker an everything." He laughed and I laughed He was always at me with jokes and I got in a good one every once in a while.
"Wonder what sort of drama is gonna happen this --"
"Yo Brock, Danny!" Two boys appeared.
"Taz. Benji. Wassup wid yous twos." Brock greeted them with some strange street accent. He was always quick with the goofy.
"We're going out." Benji said with a shy grin.
"Cool. With who?" I asked.
"Dude. With each other." Taz pipped up. My face turned red.
"Sorry. I should have--" and then I just mumbled. I felt like such an ass. And then of course I looked down and they were holding hands. Brock came to my rescue. He laughed loudly and said, "Congrats Homos. I hope you got a good thing goin. C'mon Danny. We gotta jet and see if we be in the same classes or what."
"Awkward" I said as we made our way to the information board where we got our class lists and all that boring school stuff.
The day went fast. Brock and me had some classes together, but most of them were different. We both took Art as our optional so we could hang and do some artsy stuff together and take a break from the whole learning thing. Truth was, I was pretty good at school and I liked it. Brock not so much. I also had a pretty good bunch of friends that liked me and then I had use my charm and good looks to be one of the most popular kids in school. I sure couldn't use the cash I never had to get that. Anyway, first week passed and the eb and tide of student life set in.
Art class turned out to be pretty cool. I wasn't very good and was shooting for a super level and plain C. Brock had the touch though. Everything he touched turned to perfection and he got the teacher all hornified over his stuff.
One day we were working with clay and the art teacher, Mrs. Korlack comes in, her grey hair running down and all over her frumpy clothes and says, "Class. Today is going to be a bit different. Providing everyone can use some discretion. Our challenge today is to make a human form. It must be sensual, yet no nudity. Well, maybe with a PG rating, but if anyone crosses the line, then there will be trouble."
"Taz and some other kid snickered and were making some whispers in the back.
"Although it seems Tazman and Emily are going to be working on a nice house instead." Mrs K. went on, "We'll be using dividers to keep our work to ourselves till the end. No peeking Dan, Brock." What can I say? She was one of the best teachers around.
The whole class was kind of quiet. This was going to be tough, but fun. So the clay was prepped and we started in.
I chose to try a nice shapely woman. She was supposed to be changing from naked to dressed in a long gown to keep up Mrs K. rules, but it just turned ugly right off he hop and the more I worked the clay the more homely the woman got. As Mrs K. came over to our work bench she said, "Well, her boobs are way too big and from the looks of it she was in some sort of tragic fire. At least you tried Dan. Lets take a look a the minature Mister Davinci. Brock! This is fantastic. The proportions are perfect and the muscle structure.." She gushed long after I stopped listening.
There standing behind a strategically placed towel or robe thing stood an amazing clay boy, ripped and bulging with muscles.
Okay. It was pretty awesome. The clay boy's bubble butt was perfectly formed His face seemed to look a little like someone, but I couldn't quite place who.
"Yes. Its quite good Brock, but his butt is bare. I would like to show this in our display in the hall. Its too racy. past the PG limit. There is a group that meets at the rec centre every Wednesday called Art Alive. You should call them and see if you could join. We are just a group of citizens that get together and share our talents and do art projects. I actually am not supposed to mention this to any of the students, but your work is by far the best I've seen in years and you shouldn't waste that sort of talent."
Brocks blue eyes sparkled. I rolled my eyes. I'd seen that look enough to know that whatever Brock was planning wasn't gonna be good, he would probably try to drag me into it and I'd probably regret it.
Sure enough, after lunch Brock comes running around a corner and takes me right out. We hit the lockers and I find myself on the floor being tossed back up to my feet by a boy with the biggest smile in the world. "Sorry." He mumbled and then continued on without a breath, "Art Alive meets every Wednesday, and it cost like fifty bucks per session. They do nudes and this week they got some hottie that modelled for Sears, in the panty section to come in."
"Sweet. Have a good time."
"C'mon. you know I wouldn't leave you behind."
"Dude. You know I'm tapped out. Mom's got no money and--"
"I got it covered. I bought the spots."
"Dads like eight months behind in child support. Thanks anyway, but I'm not a charity case."
"She's gonna be buck naked and is gonna stand in front of us for like two hours. If your money thing bothers you, think of it as loan. you're coming. Pick you up at six. It starts at six thirty." and he just ran away.
He was banking on the fact I really wanted to see a naked woman more than my proud money philosophy. My member hardened up and I adjusted myself. Quite a bit. I was less than discreet and got right into it. Somewhere in my sex addled brain I knew I had to stop or I'd have a wet stain the rest of the day. This school can be funny sometimes. I can be poor as a church mouse, dress in rags and still be the most popular guy around. I can jerk myself and practically jizz my pants in the hall and everyone is okay with it, but there's to be no bare naked clay bums displayed in the art show case. Yah, the problem with Brock, he knows how to push my buttons and get me going.
I was going.
His Dad picked me up with Brock riding shotgun at exactly 5:59. The ride was short and sweet. Brock danced around the fact it was a nude we were doing, even though I doubt his parents would care. They seemed pretty liberal. Brock was pretty cagey anyway, so I just followed his lead.
We found the room labelled "Art Alive" in a mega cheesy font that looked like it just got off the farm. We entered a classroom like room with a sort of stage set up at one end and some foam Greek columns along with white sheets. It looked like a wedding or something.
"Wow it's warm, like 26 C." Brock said.
"Course. Don't want the model getting cold"
"Wow Danny ol boy. You a pretty fart smeller" Brock gufawed and added, "I meant a smart feller. Good thing I keep you around eh. Oh yah, I forgot. Here is your form."
"Form? what the fuck do I need a form for art class?" I said. I knew this was going to get more complicated than I wanted.
"Yah." Brock said producing the paper, "It just shows you're over the legal age and this is all legit."
"But-" I started to protest and some older ladies came in. within minutes the room had ten or so people milling about pulling out art supplies and visiting.
Surprise. In walks Alfie. He was a bigger ginger from school with longish straight hair that hung limply. By bigger I mean he would fail gym if they failed anyone anymore. He spent quite a bit of time at the feeding trough. Not that he was a bad guy, he was just, well, really fat.
"Hey Brock, Dan. You guy finally found out my little scam and are in on the action eh. No worries. It's all cool. Bertha is all on the down low so don't blow it eh."
"Who the fuck is Bertha?" Brock and I chimed in unison.
"I am." a voice came from the doorway and there stood Mrs. K. It was her art group.
"Ah, umm, nice to meet you Bertha." Brock stammered, quick on his feet as always.
"Sure. yeah. nice to meet you Bertha." I echoed,"For the first time ever." I mumbled. Brock gave me a solid shot to the shoulder and Mrs. K or rather Berta gave me a withering glare. My shoulder smarted. I guess I deserved it.
"Class, tonight we were suppose to have Miss Montessi model, but the little bitch cancelled last minute. Good thing we never paid her. So we have a problem, there is no model. But we do have a tidy sum of a thousand dollars now freed up for anyone that would like to model for us. it doesn't have to be a female. It can be anyone, actually."
Silence filled the room and it stretched well past awkward.
"Okay." another unison answer. There were two surprises; the first voice belonged to me and the second belonged to Alfie. I needed the money. I told myself that a thousand bucks would go far in my poverty. I guess there was no one more surprised than me.
What did I just do?
"Holy shit. Did you just volunteer?" Brock said.
"Apparently I did." I replied.
"Okay men. there's only one thousand dollars though, we can't split it two ways." Mrs. K. announced, "Both of you come up here and we will figure this out."
I went up and instantly tried to back out. "It's okay Bertha. Alfie can have a go."
"No. It's not okay. You volunteered. Alfie?" Mrs. K. replied
"I only offered to get the class going." Alfie back pedaled as well.
"A thousand bucks split two ways is only five hundred." Mrs. K. said, "You okay with that boys?"
I wanted out especially for only five hundred bucks. That seemed pretty chincey considering the job ahead of me.
"Okay. I'll confess Mrs K. I don't need the money or even want it. I just wanted to help out. I don't think anyone wants to see this naked anyway." Alfie said, his eyes growing shiny like he was gonna bust into tears or something.
"Yah, I just wanted the money. I don't really want to help out at all. I came to see the naked chick." I said. I guess I confessed to make Alfie feel better about the whole thing. Hey, I felt bad for the guy. He was still a nice enough guy, even if he was packing a few extra pounds.
"Good. Then that's settled." Mrs. K. said and turned to the people in the room. "We've come to an agreement people."
What fucking agreement did we come to?
"The two lads, errm, young men, are going to both pose for us tonight, but Alfie has agreed to forfiet his share to Dan." She turned to us. "Time is short guys. Strip and stand up here." It was more of an order than anything.
I found myself pulling off my shirt and my shoes. It was pretty warm in here. I didn't think too hard. If I did I wouldn't get that thousand bucks. I peeled off my pants and socks and then paused at the boxers.
"Also, please remember that these young men have a fairly high hormone content, so if they become aroused, simply wait and draw them in a more relaxed state. This is art, not pornography."
I was so close to bailing and grabbing my clothes and running out the nearest door. I glanced over to Alfie. He had his shirt off, his pants and his underwear off. He was butt fucking naked, all 300 pounds, or whatever he weighed. He was a big boy. All the way around actually. So I figured if he could do it for free being all overweight and all, I could do it for my thousand bucks.
Kind of strange being motivated by Alfie, actually.
So without being the chicken, without thinking about all the people staring, without thinking about much, I dropped my boxers and let it all hang out.
Of course every eye was on me. I was the skinny blonde one.
"Okay, guys, we need you posed and since there's two of you we are going to do something neo classical." Mrs. K. announced.
Pretty soon she had us up on a little stage thing putting fake olive branches in our hair and trying us in different poses. Finally she positioned us, me with my arm around Alfies' shoulder and Alfie with his arm around my waist. we both had to stare in different directions. Then all of sudden she said, "Perfect! Don't move guys."
And there I stood.
Sure enough I got a woody about fifteen seconds in. The air was tense in the room and no one spoke. Minutes past. nothing happened. Minutes more past and I realized that this was the extent of everything. Nothing more could happen. It was all done but the drawing, the sound of pencils scribbling accross paper. Then the boner was gone replaced by a little drip of pre-cum sitting on my foreskin. I would have glanced over at Alfie or at Brock but was under strict orders from Mrs. K not to move. So I stood and my mind wandered.
There is a strange thing to be standing in front of people with my arm draped over a practical stranger and his hand practically on my naked cheek while people studied and drew my most prized possession along with the rest of me.
True, I was blonde, skinny and had a six pack, but I was pale. I wasn't exactly short in the penis department. I shaved the bottom and trimmed the top. I had a six pack. I was under tall but not short and my straight blonde hair was cut in an odd triangle covering a third or so of my face. I even had a good hair day today.
I knew my bodies imperfections, my chin was too strong for my face, my right ear was bigger than the left, my left nut hung lower than my right one. But knowing them and showing total strangers them, not just showing them but letting them study them, in detail, and reproduce them on paper, that made me think I had nerves of steel. Well, I guess I did. I needed the thousand bucks.
Of course, about thirty minutes in I started to worry. What if Mom found out? What if they arrested Mrs. K. because I might be a little under the age of legal, or what ever the stupid fucking law said. A couple million of what-if's flew through my mind. But somewhere along the way I gave up worrying. Meh. What comes up I'll deal with. Mom is pretty busy, she probably won't find out. The school kids? My popularity? It probably would get out, but my popularity might even go up.
And then Alfie started to fidget. I am pretty sure I was the only one notice.
"Relax bro." I said under my breath only loud enough for him to hear, my lips not moving. I hoped he wouldn't get all freaked, well, like I should be. "Nothing bad will come out of this. You'll be all good after."
"Thanks Dan. I am starting to freak out a little." his whispered reply came back.
"Yah. I think we might be heroes if this gets out. If not-- Meh. Seeing someone naked isn't the end of the world or anything."
"Thanks Dan." he whispered, and then even quieter I could barely make out what he said, "You had a boner?"
"A while back. It's long gone."
"Me too."
And then we stood there.
After what seemed forever we took a break. It felt like we had sweated our skin together. We drank some wine and looked at some of the artists work in progress and visited with the clothed artists.
Holy shit. I had no idea that art could be so, so, so sensual. I looked at some of the art and seeing the outline of my pecker and package, I looked totally hot. Alfie didn't fair quite as good. His large obese breasts and his big belly nearly covered his privates. Some of the coloured pieces showed a very nice contrast between the strawberry blond fat kid and me, the washed out white blonde. Some people thought I was albino.
Before I got to see Brocks work we were called back to our little stage and resumed our places. Why I didn't get to his first, well, I guess I was more nervous about what he saw than perfect strangers. Weird eh.
This time, sheer boredom ensued. The second hand drug accross the clock with absurd slow motion detail.
A thousand bucks. A thousand bucks. A thousand bucks. I chanted to myself in my head to pass the crazy longest hour of my life.
Then Mrs K. called time and I peeled my arm off of Alfie. Just to be able to move around again was a joy.
This time I made a direct line to Brock.
Sure as shit the bastard had talent. His easel held a colored piece in exquisite or excrutuating detail, depending of your perspective. There on the paper was me and Alfie, arms draped over each other our boners sticking up. Mine pointing a little to the right and Alfies' pointing a little to the left.
"What the fuck dude? You were sposed to leave that part out." I snapped, my voice squeaked with rage.
"What Dan? You look fucking fantastic and even Alfie looks pretty good. Nice contrast and quite sensual."
"No one was sposed to see me all boned up. W-T-F!"
"Chill bro. You are a grand up and I saw something. I saw something sweet sensual and touching, so I drew it. It's art. We're sposed to push the boundaries."
"I agree." Mrs K. materialized from no where. "Brock is over the line,"
Ha.
She was on my side and Brock was toast.
She continued, "Sometimes lines need to be adjusted." My mouth dropped open. "There is a very sensual tone to his work, nothing that undermines your stature or Alfie's. It might be a little too much, but that is exactly what art is about. And besides, Mr. Jordan, You gave your body to art for a thousand bucks and expected people to draw you, your penis and it turns out Brock captured a little of your soul as well. Your friend did a very good job of it. Here's your money." Mrs K. put out a thousand dollars in twenties and tens. It was quite a wad and since I was still birthday suit naked with a wad of money in my hand, what else could I say?
I wasn't sure what Brock's deal was, but I don't think he meant to hurt me. He even added on an inch to the length of my cock after I looked at the picture later. And some girth too,I think.
We rode home in mostly silence. We'd definitely moved some lines. Brocks Dad went past insisting and finally wheedled the drawing out of Brock. It was bound to happen. Reluctantly Brock produced the picture.
He drew it with and coloured pencils. the detail was amazing considering he only had a short time to complete it. Brocks' Dad immediatly recognized me and he was quiet for a good long minute as he studied the picture.
"Brock, you little bastard. You have some serious talent. Don't show your Mom. Dan, you might be a little embarrassed by this, but don't be. You've a body that defines perfection And I have to admit, when I was your age, I would've never had the balls to do this."
I am sure my face heated the SUV up a couple of degrees. "Thanks Mr. Mc Sweeney, I think?"
I got home, climbed into bed and in four stokes had an orgasm so hard spunk hit my nose.
Well, without a doubt, today the boundries and lines of my life changed.
The next morning my phone started to vibrate at about ten. Well, usually it was pretty busy everyday, but I let peeps hang till I was ready to text them. Most hated that, but I gotta live life. Today it buzzed like a nest of bees in my pocket. I pulled it out and put it on silent. Shit. Fifty eight messages. I guess my pose was out on the wire. I was surprised it kept that long.
Brock met me at lunch. "Hey Bro. Looks like I am quasi famous." Brock spat out with a grin bigger than his face.
"Quasi?" I asked.
"Yah, you know, kinda sorta, almost there."
"Dude. I know what it means. How can you be only 'partly famous?'"
"The picture hit the WWW and now people are talking art scholarship and doing more stuff and stuff. Oh yah, I guess people are surprised you have a penis. Most thought you were a girl." Brock laughed at his own joke. He'd probably made that joke only about a hundred times before and laughed like it was a one off.
Truth be told, I wasn't sure how I felt about the whole picture thing being in the public domain. I used to be comfortable with my body covered in the boxer domain, but now it's out, so to speak.
"This big hooplah will blow out when something new comes along. At least for me, I hope." I said.
"Yah, well, maybe for you, but I wanna keep these fires burning. I'm gonna go to Art Alive next Wedesday and see if I can't get Vanessa Charleston to pose.
"Sure, sounds good." My mind was a long way off from Wednesday and Art Alive. I had to survive the week.
The texts flew all week. There was a party at Samantha Rice's house. It promised to be mediocre if not boring. I could go, maybe. The rumour tree said I was booked to go and strip tease for everyone and Sam's Mom was paying me. The rumour tree also said that I was now going stripping for clubs and that Brock's picture was sold to Justin Beiber for fifty thousand bucks.
The rumour tree was planted far away from the fact tree.
Friday finally rolled around.
I wanted to stay home and veg out at home, but Mom was going to be home and she had planned a girls wine evening with Sally. That meant that they would drink a couple bottles and Mom would tell the same stories about how Dad was such a loser and all the shit he was pulling with the lawyer while Sally would listen and offer some bland advice and agree with whatever Mom said. It sounded like a terrific waste of a Friday night to me. I wanted to stay home, but I asked Brock if I could chill at his house instead.
No surprise it was all arranged with the parents and everyone was good with a couple of texts. Just another sleep over, or at least that's what we used to call them when we were kids, at a friends house.
The pizza guy passed Brocks parents in the driveway. They were off for some concert of some old over the hill rock and roll guy that probably should have died a long time ago and then they were having drinks after.
The rules of sleep overs, and I really don't know why they seem to be written in some kind of stone, food first, games second and movies last. The pizza wasn't pretty hot and pretty good and with a cold glass of pop it hit the spot. "What a week. Oh man. I still can't believe you did that bro." Brock's smile beamed with some cheese dripping from the side of his mouth.
"Yah. One of my stupider moments." I replied
"Stupid? Are you kidding me? You just showed the whole world you got big huge balls." He laughed and I tried not to. "Serious man. That took courage. When you said, 'Okay' I thought it was some kind of echo or something. I nearly shit my pants when you and Alfie both got up there."
"Yah." I hoped to change the subject, "I guess you'll be going to some arts school for sure now eh"
"Well Dude, that was in the cards for a long time before. This is just kind of like icing on the cake. Alfie's sure big eh. I mean, his body and his member. You stood right beside him though. He laughed, "Get it? you stood and I meant your boner?" He laughed more."I'm hillarious."
"Yah, I guess. Look, Brock, it's all over and done with, so I'm just tired of talking about it again and again. Okay? I've been interviewed by like a hundred and fifty people and the rumours that have been out there are so far out there. I'm pretty sick of the whole thing. I was hoping we could just, you know, do some gaming, watch a movie and chill."
"Sure, no prob Dan. We could do some COD, but those games are getting pretty dull. The next one isn't out till next month, or maybe we could get Mine craft goin or something. You can pick."
"I feel like killing someone. Let's COD." I replied. I never usually blew up or even disagreed with Brock. He was being pretty descent letting me choose. Usually he just picked what we did and that was that.
COD didn't help much. I cursed a five second rant and threw the controller after a bad streak.
"Okay. You've had enough." Brock said and changed his voice to a kookey preacher's voice full of vibrato and conviction, "You gotta chill and get the joy back my brother. You need to feel the joy. Do you feel the joy?"
"Amen brother" I said still trying to be pissed off. Why this stupid preacher bit cheered me up I'll never know, or where it started or how Brock knew i cheered me up. Too many questions ran through my head, all without answers.
"I can't hear you! Let me hear you shout out, JOY!"
"Joy."
"Gimme an AMEN!"
"AMEN" I got louder.
"Give your money to me Brothers and sisters!" His voice got louder the longer he went through the unwritten script and then all of a sudden he stopped and in his regular Brock voice he said, "Oh yah. I forgot. You owe me fifty bucks."
"You shit head." I laughed. How he could swing my mood was damn uncanny I tell you. I got him his fifty bucks out of my fat wallet. I didn't carry the whole wad around, but it was nice to have some walk around money for a change.
"I'm gonna get you a nice Vodka and OJ, you know a screwdriver, but don't worry light weight. I'll go easy on the vodka. I know you hate hang overs." Brock could change directions in conversations and push all of my buttons. He knew what I liked and tonight, a screwdriver would hit the spot.
"I got nothing planned tomorrow. You can go hard on the Vodka. I think I need it."
I was a lightweight and after the first tangy sips the vodka loosened me up lots.
"We can surf some porn?" I ventured.
"Damned straight." Brock answered.
We resumed our usual positions in front of the laptop, Brock driving they keyboard and mouse, me watching the screen off to the side. We hit Brocks usual favorite sites, but it wasn't quite as electrifiying as last time. The tits all kind of looked the same, the moaning and groaning all felt staged and ridiculous. My semi crashed into a softie after about ten minutes or so.
Brock must have been watching my pants, cause right away he said, "I got something kind of kinky to show you. I think you might like it." He tapped the mouse and keyboard and navigated to a gay boy site. I didn't know he went to those sites. I was about to protest when he said, "Hang on a sec, this isn't gay, it' just burried here. Well, I guess it might be kind of gay, but here. check it out."
He tapped full screen and put the laptop on my lap. On the screen, three people, started to undress each other. Two guys and a girl started the boring sequence of a porn, but they weren't pro porn stars and there was none of that stupid music. Before I knew it I was into it again and I had to move the laptop to a more comfortable position.
While the porn starts were getting into it speaking russian, or rather moaning russian, Brock pulled down his pants, boxers and started playing with it, right beside me.
"Dude. I'm sitting right here." I said uncomfortably.
"Yah." was all Brock said. I didn't say anything else. The threeway couple did their thing, first kissing, undressing, oral, and then one way the one guy and one way the other guy. The standard porn scene. Except the one guy was a hung pretty nice and the other guy was pretty shrivelled. The "hot babe" wasn't all that hot. It was pretty tough to look at the screen too. I was actually, out of the corner of my eye watching Brock.
Stupid shit head that I am. Brock painted me buck naked with a boner and I'm being shy about looking at him masterbate right beside me. If he didn't want me to see, he wouldn't be doing it. Now. Beside me. The vodka loosened me up pretty good, I guess.
My hard on was back at full mast and I looked over. Brock hadn't just lowered his bottoms, he'd full out lost them on the floor and was naked from the waist down, his hand working his big member.
He was white like me, bigger than me and his pubes were like the mop of hair he wore, unruly bushy and jet black. His tan line still visible from the not so distant summer. He stroked it the same as me, full grip. My pole was pushing my pants and making my boxer pants combination tight. Then he stopped, pulling his skin right down so the head poked right out of his sheath. He was letting me look and either not caring or liking it.
"Fuck it." I mumbled and dropped mine also. He'd already seen it, besides, I was so horny at that point I needed relief and well, it just seemed like the thing to do.
I began to stroke and the movement felt right, felt good. The video ended on the laptop, but that was pushed of to the side anyway. After a few minutes My shirt felt like it was suffocating me and my socks were choking my ankles. I got rid of it all. Brock shucked his shirt. We stroked in his basement, lights on vodka flowing through my veins. I took some time to check out Brocks body. I'd noticed him before in the change room and stuff, but never like this. Never with a full invitation, with a full handful of desire and time to induldge it all.
He was nearlly a jock. His body taller and thicker than mine and his mucles more buldging but without the lines cut into his chest and stomach that I wore. He wasn't fluffy or fat or anything, just more filled out. Well, he was a little fat.
I never stopped stroking and he started again. I put my head back really getting into it and then I felt a touch on my bare hip, just a small touch but it was a jolt.
So I let go of my shaft and in a heartbeat my invitation was answered. His fingers explored my cock from top to bottom and he even fiddled with my balls. I just sat there with my head laid back and let him do wat he wanted, but he'd better start jacking me or I was gonna take things back into my own hand. I didn't wait too long before he had some long slow strokes going.
My head back,I was enjoying the journey and I he stops gently pulling on my forearm.
"C'mon. Please." He begged. So I looked over and reached. I didn't explore, I just grabbed his meat and started to beat. He groaned quietly and resumed me, our arms crossing and bumping once in a while.
He was hot, we were both sticky and pumping. I didn't mean to gasp or blow, but I did. He slowed and milked it, probably the way he did himself. I let go of him altogether. He pumped himself a few times while my heart slowed, I just let my cum lay all over my chest and legs. He spurt. He shook once and his fountain blew all over his chest, right up and over his shoulder and onto the couch. He reached over and grabbed a towel that was hiding somewhere.
Neither of us said anything. We just wiped up and I got dressed and turned on a movie. My head was swimming for clarity, but I just wanted, well, I don't have any idea what I wanted, so I asked for another screwdriver.
"For you, buddy, I got a whole tool box of screw drivers." Brock said. Through the vodka haze I was still able to detect sincerity and warmth in his voice.
We watched the movie and I planned a shopping trip to the mall. Brock mentioned something about his hair and changing his style and the next thing I knew I woke up on the couch, alone, just like every other sleep over we ever had.
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Characters and events portrayed in this story are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.