Straight Boys on Vacation 4
Straight Boys on Vacation: Chapter 4
by Andrew J
For more fiction & writing, check out my blog at http://andrewjonline.blogspot.com
If you are not 18 or older, please leave immediately. Do not continue reading.
_Disclaimer_s: This story is pure fiction. Any resemblance to real life events or people is co-incidental and unintended.
Feedback, comments, thoughts, criticism are all welcome. It’s always a pleasure to hear from readers. Leave a comment, or read what others had to say on my blog, or email me at : andrewbjo@yahoo.com.
It was our last day in Puerto Vallarta. Our vacation was almost over, and the next morning we’d be heading back to San Francisco. What a miserable thought. It had been my craziest vacation ever, but one of the most enjoyable too.
As the week progressed, we found ourselves having more and more fun. We started leaving the large restaurants, clubs and tourist traps behind and discovered more local places to hang out. Stephanie’s Spanish had come back to her very quickly, and she was conversing and quickly making friends with everyone. The extravert she was, being part of the local scene energized her, and brought out her vivacious, playful side which I loved so much. Eric seemed happy and relaxed too, and was dealing with his relationship crisis exceptionally well. He wasn’t even as anxious as I was regarding our little nocturnal tryst, and seemed to be taking everything in stride.
The two of them looked stunning after a week under the sun. Steph’s tan had reached perfection, and complemented her dark hair and beautiful green eyes wonderfully. Eric was a natural tanner too, and the sun had done wonders to his pretty-boy complexion, making him look like a Latin-Hollywood heart throb.
Julie remained upset and moody for most of the trip, and was nowhere near ready to even rationally discuss, let alone come to terms with, what had happened between Eric and me. I hoped for Eric’s sake that a breakup wasn’t on the horizon, because I knew how much Julie meant to him.
When dinnertime came round, Julie said she had a really bad headache and decided not to join us. This relieved me slightly, as I could never seem to tell when things would start getting tense when Julie was around. Judging by the looks on their faces, Steph and Eric were a little relieved too.
Alone with Eric and Steph, I felt a sense of overwhelming contentedness. My beautiful girlfriend Steph, whose smile made my heart melt, and my best buddy Eric, the most handsome guy I’d ever known. I was honored to be the third in such a good-looking group. Steph and Eric turned the heads of practically everyone on the street, both men and women. I just rode their coat tails. And man, it felt good to be noticed.
The two of them flanked me as we headed into town. Steph was on my left, holding my hand, while Eric was on my right. He was walking a step ahead of us, talking animatedly, mostly about sports and the imminent baseball season.
As we approached the busier part of the downtown area, Eric was practically walking backwards, eagerly rambling on and on about upcoming season. “What really sucks is that the Giants –”
“WAIT!” I shouted, pulling Eric out if the intersection he’d just blindly stepped into. A car that had been barreling down the street screeched loudly to a halt, the front tires coming to rest well past where from where Eric had just been standing.
“Holy fuck!” Eric exclaimed, wide-eyed. His body started shaking as he held me tightly.
Steph immediately moved in, and instinctually, took charge. Once she saw Eric was fine, albeit a bit shaken up, she announced, “Everything’s OK…” first in English, and then in Spanish, to the driver of the car and to the onlookers who’d gathered around. The driver looked at us extremely apologetically, and then slowly drove away.
“You OK, bro?” I asked, holding Eric tightly against my side. Relief flooded through me, as I realized what Eric had just been saved from.
“Yeah, I think so.” Eric laughed nervously, trying to sound jovial. His body trembled against mine. I rubbed his back, and noticed his shirt was drenched in sweat.
“Let’s go,” I said, not making a big deal of it.
The rest of the way to the restaurant, I held on to Eric, and he leaned closely into me. Steph was still holding my left hand. We must have made quite the threesome, as we still got looks from passers-by. This time, however, the looks were of surprise, shock, some disdain, and in one instance, a cat-call from a group of gay guys.
“Oh yeah? Fuck you, too!” Eric shouted back to them, still holding me.
“Eric!” Steph hushed him, grinning slightly at his brashness. I smiled inwards to myself, thinking how Eric, like most short guys, didn’t deal well with getting teased.
Eric had fallen silent, and we didn’t talk much for the remainder of the way to the restaurant, which was only a few blocks. I looked down at Eric, and he looked up at me with gratitude and admiration. Thanks for saving me, his expression said.
No need to thank me, I thought. That’s what friends are for.
When we got to the restaurant, Eric started behaving a little oddly. We were seated at a booth-style table for four. As soon as I sat down, both Steph and Eric quickly made for the seat next to me. While Steph just assumed she’d sit beside me, Eric nudged her out of the way and grabbed it. Steph, looking slightly confused, went and sat across from me. I looked at her apologetically, and imperceptibly shrugged my shoulders.
Eric was looking over at me with that cute, eager, puppy-dog expression of his. You saved my life, he was saying. Jesus Christ. If he’d had a tail it would have been wagging.
“So, what are you guys ordering?” Steph asked cheerfully as we looked at our menus.
“The steak!” Eric and I said, almost in unison.
“Yum, that sounds great. I think I’ll have the same.”
When the waiter came by to take our drink orders, Steph ordered a glass of red wine, while Eric ordered a beer.
“And you, senor?” The waiter said, looking at me. He was a handsome young gringo, who, for some strange reason was affecting a Mexican accent and peppering his speech with Spanish.
“He’ll have the red wine too,” Steph said, decisively. When I was out with Steph we always ordered wine.
“Dude, why aren’t you having beer? You always drink beer with steak!” Eric said. He looked at me pleadingly. Please choose the beer. Be like me.
I felt stuck as I looked back and forth between the two of them, desperately trying to figure out which choice would cause the least trouble. They were both waiting for my response.
“I’ll have the red wine,” I said finally, actually wanting the beer.
Steph smiled smugly. Eric pouted and sulked.
I seriously felt like kicking him for acting so weird. What fucking difference did it make whether I had wine or beer? And more importantly, why are you acting like a chick, you fucker?
Instead, however, I gave him a break. After all, he’d almost just been run over by a car.
“So, Eric, you were saying about Barry… you think he’ll do it this season?” I asked.
His face lit up at the sound of baseball talk. “You bet! If the media doesn’t get him first…”
Dinner couldn’t have arrived soon enough. We were all famished. As we ate, the three of us talked about the past few days, and how much we’d all miss Puerto Vallarta when we got back home. Actually, Eric and Steph did most of the talking. I was too busy wolfing down my dinner to be bothered with conversation. The steak was cooked to perfection, and the entire meal was delicious. I cleaned my plate in no time.
I looked up to notice that the two of them weren’t even half way through theirs.
“Here honey, have some of mine,” Steph said.
I hated when Steph did that. It was one of our little rituals. She usually only ate half her dinner, and when she offered me the rest, I didn’t have the will-power to refuse. So, I would eat the remainder of her dinner, and regret it later, thinking how it was just going to end up on my gut.
“OK,” I said, as she transferred her food onto my plate.
What Eric did next, however, was a total surprise.
“Man, I’m stuffed,” Eric said, looking up at us. “You want some of my steak, Dave?”
I looked over at him. He was looking at me with that irritating, cute little puppy-dog expression. Stupid fucker. Eat your own goddamn steak and get fat yourself, I thought.
“Sure,” I sighed. I had to admit the steak really was good.
My plate had more food on it now than when I’d begun. Eric and Stephanie were both smiling, obviously pleased with themselves.
As I shoveled the food away, Steph reached her feet out towards me under the table to play footsie. She’d slipped off her shoes, and her bare toes and arches lazily caressed my hairy shins and feet. It felt ticklish, and very sensuous.
Meanwhile, Eric spread his legs beside me, until his left thigh grazed mine. We were both wearing shorts, and our knees were bare. The feel of his bare skin against mine, just beyond where the legs of our shorts ended, was electric. I couldn’t resist pushing my thigh out a little closer towards him. I noticed him smile through the corner of my eye.
That strange, wonderful feeling of contentedness and bliss I’d felt so often in the past few days flooded back. My insides were gently liquefying, as I sat there, eating my steak, in close physical contact with my beautiful girlfriend Steph, and my stupid little best buddy Eric.
“Care for dessert, folks?” our waiter said, handing us menus. I’d finally finished my dinner and our plates were cleared. My stomach felt like it was about to burst.
I was shaking my head. No, no, no …
Eric looked over at Steph, and they both smiled conspiratorially at each other.
“Sure!” Eric said.
“Mmmm… I’ll have the chocolate cake,” Steph said glancing over the menu, adding, “A la mode.”
“And I’ll have the cheesecake.”
I groaned. I knew what would happen. They’d just make me eat it.
“Water for me, please,” I said, weakly. What I really needed was something for indigestion.
When we finally paid the bill and left the restaurant, I could barely walk. I’d just eaten half a serving cheesecake of and half a serving of chocolate cake, and was bursting.
After a long walk along the beach, and a stop at a local pub for a quick cocktail, we went back to the hotel. Julie had already fallen asleep. We quickly got ready for bed, taking our turns in the bathroom and changing into our night clothes. Given we all slept in our underwear, this merely meant changing out of our day clothes.
“Good-night, honey,” Steph said, kissing me. We were standing at the entrance of the bedroom. Steph was in her bathrobe, and I was in my boxers. I held on to her tightly, not wanting to let go. As my hands roamed over her backside I noticed, reassuringly, that she was wearing a pair of my boxers.
“I love you, Steph,” I whispered, meaning it with all my heart.
We were interrupted by the toilet flushing, and the bathroom door opening. Eric was humming to himself, still all wired up.
“Good night, love birds!” He said, saluting us as he passed us. He flopped onto his bed in the living room, and, switching on the TV, quickly found a sports channel.
After Steph went into the bedroom, I walked over to Eric’s bed.
“Hey Dave, wanna watch the game with me?” He scooted over on the bed.
Grabbing the remote control, I switched off the TV. “I’m beat.” I said, “And we have a flight to catch tomorrow morning, so we should both get some sleep.”
Eric looked slightly confused, but then cheerfully said, “OK. No probs!” and reached over to switch off the light.
I went over to the sofa and lay down. I was exhausted.
“Hey, Dave?”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks for earlier today,” Eric said.
“Hey no probs,” I said, assuming he was referring to the car thing.
“And Dave?”
“Yeah.”
“Try not to eat so much when we go out. You’ll just get fat.” This was followed by Eric’s maniacal laughter.
Prick, I thought, clenching my teeth.
Eventually, he settled down, and the room grew silent. As I lay there, I couldn’t help but think how happy I was. I’d never glowed from the inside out like this before. I somehow felt more content, more liberated, and more myself than ever before. And I liked how it felt.
I thought of Stephanie, and how grateful I was for her. She was my love, my life, my dream girl, my sex-goddess, my mentor, my mother-figure, all wrapped in one. And I’d be crazy to do anything to lose her.
Then I thought of Eric, and what a good guy he was. I thought of how hardworking and sincere he was, and how driven, career-wise. He inspired me so much. And, despite his boyish sense of humor and pranks, he was always fun to be around.
I lay there, too exhausted to sleep. My mind was alert. No sounds came from Eric, so I figured was probably asleep.
After a bit of tossing and turning, I decided to go and see if Eric was awake. He’d had a rough day, almost getting hit by that car and all, and maybe wasn’t sleeping well. So, getting up off the sofa, I went over to his bed.
Eric lay in bed, fast asleep. His eyes were closed, and he had the slightest smile on his face. I lay down beside him, and slowly stroked his hair, gently tracing his sideburns and the hairline around his ears. I couldn’t help it. I kissed his forehead ever so softly, not wanting to wake him up.
We were both wearing only our boxers, and the smell of Eric’s near nakedness filled my nostrils. That intoxicating, musky, masculine Eric smell I’d only recently discovered, filled me with a deep sexual longing.
He awoke slowly. Half asleep, he put his arms around me and began to kiss me. I returned his kisses eagerly. It was all me, this time. I wanted him desperately. I didn’t care what it meant or what the consequences would be.
As we kissed I tasted his sleep and the lingering flavor of his toothpaste, acutely reminding me that I hadn’t brushed my teeth. My fingers and my arms felt so rough against his tenderness, his beautiful torso and back – such soft skin, yet such hard, firm musculature.
I was so horny I could hardly breathe. I climbed on top of him, kissing him hungrily. We groped one another, much like the first few times we made love, roughly and with animalistic passion. But this time, there was something else, something much deeper - a tenderness that made my heart swell.
I reached back and held his asscheeks tightly as I thrust back and forth. As I gazed into his beautiful eyes, I realized that it wasn’t just me. I wasn’t the only one whose emotions ran far, far beyond lust.
Eric stared unflinching into my eyes. His expression was indescribably tender - a tenderness I’d only ever seen before in Stephanie’s eyes.
I can read your fucking thoughts, you bastard, so don’t say it out loud, I thought to myself. I don’t want to know.
I flung myself off him, and, pushing him onto his back, voraciously went down on him. I took his cock into my mouth and felt it, hard and pulsating against my tongue. If I could find Steph’s G-spot, I thought, I could find Eric’s. And I was determined to do so.
Eric writhed and squirmed helplessly underneath me. My entire mission was to please him. To get him off, and give him the best fucking orgasm he’d ever had. I wanted that for him. I wanted to be the one.
I wanted to be the one for Eric. My heart almost melted at the thought. Yet, at the same time, I felt panic. What the fuck was I doing? What about Steph? I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t handle what I was feeling. Or what he was feeling.
I ran my tongue over every part of his cock and balls. He jumped and squirmed as I slowly explored, looking for spots to zero in on. I focused all my attention on the sensitive ridge of his head... wet sloppy licks, dry ones, broad ones, tight lines with the tip of my tongue, they all worked. And in concert, they worked even better.
It didn’t take long for either of us. The pleasure I was giving Eric was having a powerful effect on me. My cock was swollen rigid, and ready to explode. One of Eric’s feet had found its way to my crotch, and, as I blew him, I was humping my cock against the soft, smoothness of its sole like a male dog in heat. His toes grazed my balls, and I could feel them curl at my ministrations.
“Oh Dave… I – fuck, I –,” Eric grunted. I looked up at him. I was on the verge of explosion, and could feel the waves commencing, from deep within my groin. He was gazing at me the entire time, his eyes still brimming with tenderness, and -
DON’T FUCKING SAY IT, I thought, angrily, as I was claimed by the tidal force of my orgasm. My jizz spurted all over his foot, coating his ankle, his toes, and the smooth arch of his foot.
At the same time, Eric unloaded desperately into my mouth. Please don’t say it, I thought, still quaking and shuddering, as my mouth filled with his semen. As he moaned and spasmed in orgasmic pleasure, all I could think was don’t say it...
Please Eric. Please don’t say you love me.
And it was only then - after our orgasms had subsided, that I realized how tightly gripping I was Eric’s thigh the entire time - so tightly it would eventually bruise, and that tears were streaming down my cheeks uncontrollably.
Eric pulled me up to him, and held me. He looked confused, and concerned, but didn’t make a big deal of it. I was crying like a baby. Sobbing, out of fear and confusion. He just held me, unquestioningly.
After a long while, Eric let go of me, and we just lay there, holding hands. I was grateful that we weren’t talking, and the comfortable silence between was very reassuring. I finally turned towards him and scooped him into my arms. He burrowed his head into my shoulder, and I could still feel the taste of his cum in my mouth. When I reached down to kiss him, instead of kissing me back, he grinned and playfully licked my face. This made me laugh.
As we held each other, quietly laughing, that indescribable feeling of contentedness returned to me.
Yeah, I thought. Nothing needed to be said. It was all good.
And this was true. For the moment, anyways.
(to be continued...)
Feedback, comments, thoughts, criticism are all welcome. It’s always a pleasure to hear from readers. Leave a comment, or read what others had to say here, or email me at : andrewbjo@yahoo.com.
-- Andrew J
For more fiction & writing, check out my blog at http://andrewjonline.blogspot.com
Copyright 2006 Andrew J (andrewbjo@yahoo.com) All Rights Reserved.