P R O L O G U E PART 1: SAM'S JOURNEY
Sam Jenkins was the sort of lonely teenage boy that others pitied or wrote off as morose. He stayed out of everyone's way, spoke softly and even quieter if he had something to important to say. Growing up he was always told to speak up or stand up straight or to quit sneaking up on people. Sam often felt like he had never truly been seen by anyone, so it was not surprising to him when others were shocked to find he was even in the room. This was generally true, as there were strange, rare occurrences... at the grocery store, in passing on the sidewalk or during some normal routine outside the house where he would catch someone staring at him and it would cut right through. It was always the same: knives piercing, fixed and rabid. Those moments made his constant invisibility to family, friends, and casual strangers even more perplexing to him. He seemed only to be obvious to people who had no reason to hate him but did anyway.
The truth was Sam was always on alert. Always listening, always watching, cataloging every shift in intonation, innocuous gesture, raise in volume or even change in texture of someone's voice. People were no mystery to him. It seemed like no one meant what they said but were always miming their true intentions through expressions that were so obvious as to make them liars. He predicted that people were lying 98% of the time but expected to be understood 100% of time. He was no exception of course; he was always lying - just like the rest of them. Careful not reveal his fascination with the boys at school or that that he, too had noticed the painfully beautiful man on television. He practiced the words and phrases that his classmates dispensed regarding sex having no real ideas of his own. Keen to pick out the boys that were liked but didn't draw too much attention. But every once in a while, those eyes would come around a corner saying, "I see you faggot!", "pervert!", "pussy!" the worst ones didn't say anything at all just that if they had the chance, they'd kill him. He wondered what his parents' eyes would say if they ever saw him.
He was as careful as he could be, but the furnace of adolescence had been lit and the only gas in the tank was hormones. The sex he had never had but would, once he figured out what that meant, colored every moment for him. He wasn't sure what he was comfortable with - just no butt stuff. The idea of being even partially naked with another guy made his cheeks blush and his dick do everything it could to wave down anyone within 20 feet. He thought if he ever got the chance to lay next to someone, at a sleep over or perhaps camping, and maybe have his head near their armpit that that would be enough to keep him going for the rest of year at least. Of course, they wouldn't know what was happening, but it was better that way -- safer. Anything more than that and you risked people finding you out, subsequently contract HIV and die painful, very public death from AIDS. There didn't seem to be a very wide margin for dignity between butt stuff and AIDS but jacking off was spectacular, so he had no immediate reason to complain. Plus, porn was everywhere! Every week there were ads tucked into the paper from the national department stores, one of them was bound to have pictures of men in their underwear, it was almost guaranteed. Men that looked like him all grown up. Standing in a kitchen with one hand on a hip the other tucked into a cup of coffee, an obvious mound pushing against bright white briefs. The smile always got him. They seemed happy, gentle, and assured. He couldn't believe that no one at home had noticed there were half naked people in the newspaper. It seemed like he was the only one who cared -- and when he realized that true not another underwear ad was seen in that house ever again.
He began to be very curious what everyone had on underneath, the length of their pubes, the size and shape of their dick, if they were cut or not. Being careful to observe bulges and waistlines out of the corner of his eye. At any juncture where they might be exposed -- bending over to pick something up, jumping, putting a jacket on, shifting in a chair... he would watch and remember. At night he would lay in his bed and imagine them there with him, smiling, laughing, inviting him to touch.
When he'd visit a friends, he would find a quiet moment to take a peek in their underwear drawer or hamper and if he could swing it -- their dad's too. Holding them out to see how far they had been stretched, then inside to see if they had made a piss stain and where that had landed. Stray pubes stuck in cotton would be measured, rolling them between his fingertips to see how rough or smooth they might be.
He noted all the different waistbands from the various manufacturers. Pulling away any chance he got while shopping with his family to slowly walk by the Men's department. Heart racing, not letting his eyes linger too long on the packaging he was desperate to take home but couldn't. Wondering how the briefs felt and what they looked like on him.
One day he was brave enough to swipe a pair from the neighbor kid's drawer. Hot faced and eager to leave he jammed them into his pocket excusing himself. He went straight to the bathroom and locked the door and with the sink running and quickly shucked his pants eyes transfixed on the stolen underwear he'd laid out flat by the sink. He put the briefs on slowly and felt the same stretch of cotton that had held his friend's junk touch his and thought to himself that if this is what gay sex felt like -- it was amazing. He turned into the mirror wishing his boner would go down so he could tell if he looked normal or not. He'd have to come back later to see.
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P R O L O G U E PART 1: RIVER'S JOURNEY
River Smith never met anyone he didn't like. Of course, he reserved the right to change his mind later, and sometimes did, rightly so - but he thought folks were generally harmless or if they did harm people they didn't mean to. He was rarely seen not smiling or laughing, eye's pressed tight, teeth enough to count. He was quick to hug and preferred that to a handshake if he knew you which most people didn't mind -- the affection was genuine and he smelled like soap most days. He was tall for his age and husky, too and hardly going unnoticed and looming when he didn't mean to. He played football for a season after enough people told him it'd be a sin not to. He was good at it as he could bulldoze most guys his age without much effort but it simply didn't feel good to knock people down, so he quit. Kids at school called him "Green Giant" and he liked that name just fine even though he hardly wore green. He thought it must be his red hair and freckles but that made him look more like the biggest leprechaun that ever was in his mind.
Growing up on a small farm taught him to appreciate slow hard labor and honestly, he preferred it when things came slow, they tended to last that way. He didn't think much about what clothes he wore except that they should be able to get dirty at a moment's notice and probably last a good long while. That left him in a t-shirt and jeans most days or occasionally a button-down shirt that his mom laid out on special occasions when she though he ought to look nice like his birthday or school pictures. He was popular at school; most kids knew his name or at least what people called him but he wasn't sure why they should know him. He got a long with everyone but didn't have any close relationships at school. That was fine by him, between his sisters and his parents, whom he also counted as his friends, he counted six people he knew loved him and he loved back and that seemed like a lot.
He wasn't sure when he started noticing boys, it just sort of snuck up on him gradually. At his small school in the country there wasn't much pressure to identify one way or another and given his size and masculinity he was never questioned. It was a conservative town with not a lot of folks. They were more concerned with 4H then going out partying and he didn't care to talk about sex the way he heard boys talking about girls. He knew he wanted what his parents had and assumed that'd happen for him at some point but not `til down the road some and there was no sense in worrying.
That's not until others started to notice. He had been caught daydreaming in class -- his teacher had called on him, but he had no idea what for. Everyone got a good kick out of that while his teacher stood at the end of the blackboard staring. The class moved on in due course but what stuck to his bones was where his mind had been and what was going on in his pants right there in the middle of school! He apologized to his teacher at the end of the period, but she had already forgotten about it. "Good, like it never even happened", he thought.
A few months later in Science they were told to pair up for an experiment that would last six weeks. He was working with a boy that had just moved to town. He had mousy brown hair and the biggest green eyes he had ever seen. He smiled like he always did offering a friendly greeting and the two got to work. Every time the boy took over the reading portion River tuned out, noticing instead the flecks of brown and grey buried in the boy's green eyes or the way his hair kept falling onto his forehead no matter how many times he pushed it back. He wondered what it would feel like in his fingers. He wasn't sure why, but he felt like this was the only place he wanted to be in the whole world. His lab partner on the other hand couldn't figure out why it was like herding cats to move the project along and that embarrassed him.
At some point it was like it had always been that way, he'd notice things on guys that he just didn't notice about girls. The way they walked, the way they smelled, how they laughed. He'd imagine running his hands through their hair maybe just to rough it up and make them laugh. Later he let himself imagine holding hands and kissing them and that made him feel good. It seemed like God or pure chance had laid it out pretty clear but he knew he better keep it to himself. He knew others weren't always kind and sometimes that got dangerous for gay folk, even deadly under the wrong circumstances.
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C H A P T E R O N E A LONELY ROAD WELL TRAVELED
Tall dead grass blended into the blunted green weeds having been missed close to the roads edge. The blur through the car window occasionally split with a passing telephone poll but otherwise there had been nothing out there for miles and they still had hours to go.
"Is there even a hill between here and there?" asked Sam feigning to be glum.
"This is pretty much it! You might miss a cow or two if you shut your eyes long enough" River replied smiling. If he was awake, he was always on, straightforward and happy. "Try and take a nap, it'll go quicker".
Sam reached his arm out behind River's and without thinking looped a short red curl partway around his forefinger before cradling the back of his head. He held his hand there for a moment and then let his arm fall to his shoulder and started tracing the neck of the worn down tee he wouldn't give up.
"I'm not going to leave you to drive this whole way while I sleep! The least I can do is keep you company." Said Sam indignantly. "Now, what are we gonna listen to, 90's pop or 90's R&B?".
"I thought those were the same thing."
Sam pursed his face. "...Spice Girls or Mariah Carey?".
"..... no."
"Nooo Doubt? Or Mark Morrison"?
"I don't even know who that is" River exclaimed.
"That's ok, he had like, one song" said Sam. "But it was a good one... JLO or Blackstreet?"
They were playing an old game knowing they had different tastes in music, but River was driving which meant he could listen to whatever he wanted, and Sam couldn't complain. That was the rule. He reached over to the dash to turn the radio on. Static faded from news to a fiery sermon and finally settled on a Country music station. Sam scrunched his nose as River retracted his hand having quickly found just what he was looking for.
"OK maybe I will take a nap" said Sam flatly and went back to looking out the window head in hand.
River started to sing and reached his hand out to grip Sam by the thigh, gently but firmly and kept it there while locking the other arm on the steering wheel and drawing himself up straight. Safety first with River, always. Sam looked over at him lovingly and followed his glowing chestnut eyes shifting every once in a while from the road to the mirrors and back again - even though they hadn't seen another car in at least half an hour. Sam knew he wouldn't break this pattern as long as they were driving. That's how River knew to care about folks, he wasn't going to let ANYTHING happen on his watch, not if he could help it. River knew Sam was looking at him though and turned his hand deeper inside his thighs until his hand was planted where it wouldn't easily slip away. Sam melted feeling his chest flood with that extended out through his body -- a feeling of being totally and completely safe. He let his body slack and loosen. This man is going to do all the driving - at or under the speed limit - while singing country tunes... and I don't care." He thought to himself. "Who am I??" He felt all the things that would normally annoy him slip away and be carried off into some field in the rearview. He suspected that he would go anywhere with River, at any time, for any reason... and it felt incredible to trust that sense. Then, just as quickly, a pang of fear stung him in his chest pinning him down from that ethereal space to sit squarely in his chair. He recoiled inside, his body becoming a shell again, invisible to River.
His thoughts raced but it was an all-to familiar track he was on. He knew it felt risky to love like that. It felt risky to BE loved like that. He saw the way River loved him... fearlessly, consistently, tirelessly... but hardest of all, simply. He had to let it in in parts, bit by bit so as not be overwhelmed but these moments came anyway, and he had to deal.
"I'm scared." Sam blurted.
"Is it the way I'm driving?" an incredulous look on River's face.
"No, babe. How?" Sam looked around, thrown off. He shook his head. "No, it's not your driving."
"Ok... talk to me."
"I've never done this before - gone to meet anyone's parents. And I've never trusted somebody the way I trust you and sometimes that doesn't let me just sit in the good stuff. It feels really really good.. and then BAM it doesn't... it just hurts...."
River nodded. "I'll pull over."
"No! Don't. It's too much pressure. I don't want you staring at me." Sam laughed nervously. He was used to feeling like a mess inside but he didn't want to be treated like one.
"Ok" River broke his gaze and assessed Sam quickly before speeding back up.
"It's fine! I'm ok. I just can't keep this to myself because then I feel alone again and I don't want to feel alone when I'm with you." Sam explained.
"Good. I'm glad you're talking to me. You talk, I'll just listen".
Sam looked at River and knew he meant it, too. He wouldn't interrupt again until he finished and now he had to make good on his little bout of word vomit. "Shit." He thought to himself.
"What I'm saying" Sam said politely, "Is that this is hard for me."
.... ....
"And..." Sam paused, looking at River cautiously, "I'm trying to break out of my old patterns by taking a risk and being messy in front of you...so, success there.."
...
"This is going nowhere fast. Just fucking say it!" Sam shouted inside. "Say it!" He thought.
"River, just being happy, like really happy, scares the shit outta me. And it pisses me off that I can't just live there in that space but it's unfamiliar... and it feels like it could all just get yanked away in a second." Sam exhaled deeply. "I'm afraid of losing you and nothing is even happening to make me think that that's what's happening." Sam rambled on increasingly embarrassed and wondering why he had brought it up in the first place. "I'm sorry I said anything."
"Don't apologize for that"
"Mmmm" Hummed Sam, still unsure if he had made the right move.
River opened his palm inviting Sam's hand. Sam took it, still stratified, alienated by his sudden disclosure and feeling like he'd ruined a simple sweet moment for them both.
"I can tell when you go away..." River's eyes swelled with tears as he turned to look at Sam. "I can tell when you go away!" as if pleading for Sam to look back at him. He didn't, he stared at the rubber matt on the floor and wondered at the missing chunk that looked like it had been chewed off.
"You think I can't but I can, Sam. I know you get afraid sometimes and I've been waiting for you to let me in... and that you would do it when you felt safe enough." Explained River. "So, I try to make you feel safe."
Sam asked himself if it was really that simple. If he could just show up and that would be enough. Why had he thought it would be so complicated? "...I love you." is all he could say back. He hadn't considered the fact that his behaviors were obvious to anyone, it was disarming and healing but it also left him feeling exposed and raw.
"...I love you too" said River, "I'm not going anywhere"
"ok." Said Sam quietly, having an answer to a question he wasn't going ask, one that he didn't know he needed to ask.
River patted the empty space in the bench seat between them. They had decided to drive his small truck so they could haul a piece of furniture for his Dad to repair. The worn down cushion covers exposed the stuffing inside, Sam's fingers slipped into the brittle yellow sponge. Carefully pulling one leg around the stick shift that jutted out prominently from the floor dividing the cab, straddling and crooked he leaned in. River opened his right arm to make room, exposing another broken seam underneath the sleeve of his shirt and with that the milky skin and red hair hiding underneath. Sam pressed his nose against River's chest and breathed in as he let all the rest of the words he had inside of him quiet down. The soap smell was wearing off and he could feel the damp underside of River's arm drape around his neck. He felt safe again, content to let this moment stand for however long it would last. He was exhausted in a way that felt old and carried over from the past. River shifted to a higher gear, jostling Sam's head a bit as they sped up. A bump in the road shook them both as if they were one body, evenly swaying left - then right, up - and then down again. He started to drift off to sleep. Country music played gently in that still space, words he didn't know singing about love and pick up trucks. He decided to let that part in, and one hot tear appeared forming slowly and painfully before it ran down his cheek and disappeared into River's t-shirt.
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Sam woke up as they turned in to a motel. The spring of the old shocks squeaked like a giant mattress as they went over the lip of the street. A bright orange-red glow lit up a single row of rooms from above, punctuating in an ice machine that jutted out by the lobby. It looked ancient to Sam but also like it had been exceedingly modern at the time. An asymmetrical roof started on the far end and tapered down to meet the other end one long line. Aluminum edging, over-sized windows and narrow doors made it look like a diner the Jetsons might've stopped in on their way to Kansas.
"Do you want to come in?" River asked as they rolled to a stop.
"No." Sam said sleepily.
"They might have food?" River invited.
"Babe, I need real food - not snacks" Sam said coldly. River could eat six bags of chips and call it dinner. "I'll see if there's pizza or something that will deliver here" Sam said as he reached under his right side to pull out his phone.
"No pineapple!" warned River as he walked away.
"NO pineapple. Promise." Sam said under his breath.
Ham and pineapple was exactly what he wanted. They were almost complete opposites in most respects but especially when it came to food. One person's favorite was the worst possible option to the other and yet when they avoided these extremes they seemed to agree readily. Sam cycled through their options. Their go-to pizza at home was spinach, ricotta and sausage but they weren't likely to find that in this mile-marker town he would never learn the name of. The emotional energy spent earlier made anything easy and nostalgic appealing, so Sam ordered a large pepperoni, bread sticks and chicken wings. River would say he over-ordered, and he had, but that's how they compromised. Keep it simple to satisfy one and make sure there was more than they needed to satisfy the other. They were both tall men and River easily had 50 lbs on Sam's slim build but that didn't stop Sam from eating him under the table at every meal.
River came back to the truck after a few minutes with keys.
"We're in ten" he said through the cracked window as he reached into the bed of the truck.
River looked down the line of units and saw that number ten was at the low end of the row furthest from the lobby. Ten was perfect, it had the most privacy and the least amount of light pollution. He crossed his fingers for a king and gathered their phones, snacks and garbage. He knew River would have both their bags and would want a clean car for the start of the second leg in the morning.
"What'd you get?" River asked as they marched the short distance to their room arms full of bags, food, and phone cords.
"Everything." Replied Sam with a satisfied smile.
River wouldn't complain no matter what showed up, it wasn't in his nature. Plus, he was used to Sam pushing his boundaries on food. Most of the time he appreciated being introduced to new things, he didn't end up liking most of them but he was happy to explore and thought that was one of the best parts of their relationship: it was always an adventure. It reminded him of building forts in the living room as a kid where suddenly a plain old space he had known all his life was brand new again. Living with Sam was like that, he could make any ordinary moment special, and it was always unexpected - that made him feel like Sam was always giving him little gifts.
River placed the oversized key into the round knob and let an even bigger plastic tag fall as he turned it, jingling as the number "10" spun at the bottom of the ring. He stepped through the door and walked in as the smell of stale carpet and old cigarettes wafted out. Dropping the bags on either side of him River made a b-line for the bathroom at the end of the room. He was raised that you held it as long as you could -- no extra stops. He listened behind him for Sam's reaction to the room. Nothing. "He must be really tired." He thought.
River washed his hands and came out to see Sam sitting in his underwear cross-legged, perched atop the pillows in a make-shift seat with his back against the headboard of their king sized bed. Sam looked over an out struck arm pointed at the television and gave a Cheshire grin. "OK, not sleepy!" He thought.
River chuckled. "I don't know if I have a whole movie in me." As he watched Sam carefully scroll through the cable listings.
Sam nodded knowingly. "mhm." It was a warning he often received which meant, "I'm not staying up with you tonight."
Sam and River had traveled together enough to know how tonight would play out. They would eat in bed neatly to avoid putting crumbs in the sheets and then make various contorted shapes while watching a movie until River fell asleep too early only to be poked by Sam. "You're missing it!" he would say. "This is the BEST part, wake up!". River did enjoy falling asleep in front of a movie, that's what the movie was for in his mind. Sam on the other hand saw meaning everywhere and combed through every detail talking about it for days - the way it made him think or feel; what about it had reminded him of his life and how he would have done the ending much differently. Always that part. River would agree no matter how sad or painful his imagined ending would be. It was always tragic. Sam had explained once that that was very French.
Sam had landed on cartoons which suited him just fine for tonight. Easy to turn off and he wasn't likely to be bothered if he started snoring. He collected Sam's pants and shirt that were arranged on the floor like they were still inhabited. He tossed them in the chair that didn't quite fit into the corner of the room and wondered if that was something he would have seen before he had met Sam.
"You gonna brush your teeth?" He asked.
Sam dragged his eyes away from the tv and said "Pizza."
"Oh yeah"
River was used to skipping a meal in favor of sleep or just being too busy. Sam however, had never skipped a meal in order to go to bed early and always made time to eat no matter what was happening. It sounded like punishment to him to skip a meal and in fact had been once. He liked to stay up until he just couldn't keep his eyes open any longer, belly full to the point of aching, no thought to what time he might rise. River knew this and wanted to be on the road again by 8am. Alarm clocks were persona non grata on vacation for Sam. Instead, River resolved that he would wake up when he normally did (early) and then give Sam one extra hour before he pulled him in for a hug and kiss good morning. Sam might not like alarm clocks, but he never minded being hugged which made River happy. He liked a lot of hugs.
Once he had plugged their phones in and set out their toothbrushes, arranged their shoes by door and suitcases by the bathroom he got into the shower. He knew Sam woudn't shower tonight but it was just part of his routine and he relied on that to make sense of the world. Ten minutes tops: pits, ass, dick and face. Afterwards he felt refreshed and like he could stay up long enough for the pizza to arrive.
He came out of the bathroom jiggling a piece of twisted toilet paper in his ear and saw a clean pair of briefs and a crisp t-shirt without any holes laying on the corning of the bed.
"Thanks, babe".
Sam smiled and paused to watch him dress. This was one of his favorite things: watching River pull on his underwear, seeing the fabric wrap around his cock and heavy balls, just barely rising to the task. They went on with a snap of his waistband only to be pulled back out so that River could reach in to stretch the crotch out with his fist, breaking them in. He pulled his hand out and pawed at his front bits to rearrange now that he had more room. He looked up at Sam watching him and smiled.
"What?"
"You know what."
River smiled and reached his hands over his head to pull on his undershirt. He wished it was one of his older ones that Sam kept replacing. They were softer and didn't cling to his body as much. It took years to wear in a t-shirt just right. Sam looked on River's belly, dusted in orange hair that pulled together toward the middle getting darker and redder as it came in, traveling up and down in one connected piece from his bush up to his beard. It reminded Sam of an old globe before all the continents had drifted apart. His chest had the largest landing of fur culminating in licks of mostly straight hair that started to curl where it was thickest just below his neckline. Sam loved the way it grabbed and spilled out of whatever shirt he was wearing. It peeked out in a few places depending on how he moved. Under his arms was where the hair was longest clearing the underside of his sleeve by a full inch - and his briefs too, if they pulled down even a little bit hair would fan out until he hiked them back up.
Sam's eyes sparkled just like in the cartoons he was watching. River was a bunch of his favorite things rolled into one. He was a big man, bigger than Sam, and furry... uncut and he was a ginger. River was almost always scruffy, disliking to shave. His jaw was regularly covered in a soft stubble that varied in length. Sam and River would kiss for hours sometimes pulling apart to catch their breath having landed in an armpit or crotch and pausing to breathe each other refueling them. In all the times they lost hours (in what felt like days) together Sam could think of only once when his face was worn raw from constant bristle of Rivers beard. For as rough as River looked when you touched him he was soft everywhere - even where his muscles gathered in thick ropes around his legs and arms, the texture was the same marked only by freckles or the thick or thin hair that covered his skin. River came to that build naturally and didn't work out having a layer on him that made him look winter-ready with a small paunch and rounded pecs.
Sam didn't need to think -- he knew where he wanted to be and slid off the mattress like it was slip and slide scraping his knees as he landed face to face with River's bulge. River laughed as Sam playfully plunged his face just under his crotch with his nose under his balls and let his enormous thighs fend off the coming intruder. Sam loved the resistance, preferring a fight. He rubbed his face there, sweeping it from side to side letting his face be tickled as he pressed further and further in. The pressure of his head coming to roost put pressure on River's prostate which in turn fattened his dick. Any remaining room in his y-fronts was gone. Sam reached up and deftly pulled River's cock and balls out the leg of his briefs letting them rest on his head. River looked down and watched himself swell and drape lengthening and filling as it pushed through Sam's hair toward the back of his neck. He watched his foreskin stretch and thin before it reached it's limit, where it stretched a little bit further and then rolled back quickly. The release was ecstasy as the head of his dick met the open air and expanded to its full size. Shivers ran up his back and he reached a hand out to the dresser on his right to stabilize himself.
Sam felt the shift in weight and used the opportunity to pivot. Pulling his head out from underneath River he pulled the waistband over and around his lover's massive dick yanking them down. River was obliged to step out as Sam held the briefs to the floor without looking up. Sam looked up at River running his hands to his hips and gave him a disarming smile. River smiled back only to realize he was being distracted. Sam turned his hips 90 degrees and pushed. River fell back on the bed laughing and without missing a beat Sam pounced, reingratiating himself by pressing his legs apart with his head... hard to the left at first and then to the right exposing River's two white globes navigated by the same trail of fur covering the rest of River's body. River sighed knowing he didn't have long before Sam would take a swipe with his tongue. Sam pulled back transfixed at the shape and fullness, planning the route he would take toward the center he would eventually lose himself in. He spread his hands across the back side of Rivers thighs and rolled him further back, pointing his ass straight up and pressing chest against his chin. Sam wasn't in mood to be coy. He looked on hungrily as the skin turned from white to pink and finally exposed a velvet hole gently pressed shut amidst cords of hair. Sam watched as it clamped down forming a tight ring as River involuntarily winced from being pushed back. Sam dove. Shaping is tongue into a point as he plunged inside, feeling the skin part just as the bridge of his nose met the fleshy middle between his balls and hole that had swelled to meet him.
River's brain shut off in an instant. They could have been anywhere at any time. He sucked at the air as Sam flattened his tongue spreading and straining against his clamped hole. He relaxed giving Sam the slack to press further in and then up against the ceiling. Sam ate his ass sloppily until the whole thing was covered in saliva, matting his hair down in mustache shapes. He withdrew his tongue finally but only to let it fold and spread against his puffed taint, tracing all the nerves that connected him from root to tip.
River found the release of Sam's mouth temporary only to find of his nuts pulled into and rolled around in Sam's full mouth. Sam felt the dancing hairs of River's sack prance around his face and closed eyes. Sam wanted all of it to be happening at the same time, three mouths poised at different parts consuming all courses once. He let the weight of River's testicle pull itself out of his mouth slowly falling with inaudible wet thud. He used his nose to push his balls out of the way and then traced it, inhaling as he went, from the crook up along the side and into the thick bush of his pubes. Swaying left to right again until his nose found the hilt of his penis jutting out and the flat broad top of his cock lining the underside of his chin. Sam loved to tease and taste River's entire body ignoring his dick until the very end. He let River stab and press at the air applying pressure with his neck and shoulder before drawing himself up and into River's belly. River oozed thick clear precum that ran out over the folds of his gathered foreskin and down to his nuts.
A loud knock from the door shook them both and Sam pulled back on all fours immediately, River freezing like a possum. The pizza!
"One second!" Sam shouted as he leapt off the bed and in one movement draped River with the sheet that had been pushed to the foot. He spun around to his pants in the corner and with one hop and then two pulled them on.
"Do you have cash?" River asked.
"I paid online!" Sam gave him a wink back.
River smiled and opened his eyes wide as if to say, "holy fuck that was good" giving his dick a good hard squeeze causing precum to leak through and create a spot which he quickly covered with his hands. Sam laughed.
"Almost there, sorry!" Sam said through the door. He pulled his shirt on next and jammed his fingers through hair, his Green and gray eyes dancing as they met the light from outside. "That was fast!" he said as he opened the door part way and slipped out.
River listened from the bed. He made out a leg of royal blue denim landing in a red and white basketball sneaker just before the door closed. He knew Sam wasn't the modest type he just wanted him all to himself which made River feel like hidden treasure.
Sam thanked the delivery driver and let him start walking back the few paces to his car before turning to come back in with the mountain of food.
River, suddenly hungry, tossed the sheet to the side and flopped towards the edge of the mattress to retrieve the underwear he had only just put on. Sam almost asked him what he was doing before realizing he'd get the chance to take them off again admiring instead the full length of River's back landing in the ass that made him crazy.
"LETS EAT." Sam said as he puffed himself up like a giant beast. An array of food spread out on the dresser behind him.
"Ok, pizza monster." Said River. "Let's eat."
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