The Ball Boy: Wine Night
Wine Night – Part Three of the Ball Boy
Leaning against the island in the kitchen, the pipes sang through the house as Caleb showered.
I crouched to fetch a bottle of wine and notice a moist spot in my briefs as the head of my cock slipped past the elastic band and rubbed against my thigh.
"Fuck me," I muttered as I realized I needed to relieve some pressure if I hoped to talk with Caleb without exploding.
I grabbed a bottle of red and sat it on the counter. Fumbled through the drawer until I found the cork screw. Twisted and pressed the cork-screw into the cork. Yanked and listened to the satisfying pop as the cork slipped out of the bottle.
Something about the sound of the popping cork caused an image of Caleb's naked butt cheeks to flash through my mind. His shifting thighs. His arching back. His heavy schlong slapping against his thighs.
"This isn't happening," I said. Sat the wine bottle on the counter and shuffled across the dining room. But my cock was positioned in such a way my head rubbed against my thigh as I walked. With the image of Caleb looping in my mind and my thighs hugging my cock, cum squirted down my leg as I reached the patio door.
Don't know why I wanted to be outside. Maybe just fresh air. I stepped out onto the lanai, as a wet spot spread in the crotch of my sweat shorts and warm jizz dripped down my leg.
The pool filter kicked on and water sloshed against the side of the pool. I knew at once what I needed to do. I wandered to the shallow end. Leaned against the railing and peeled my shorts and underwear down with one hand.
Stepping free, I stuck one foot into the water and worked my way down the steps until the tip of my semi-hard dick touched the water. I eased my body forward, letting my junk float on the surface. I closed my eyes and let myself relax as sticky strands of cum rinsed gently away.
I waded out further until the water came to my navel. Holding my arm carefully above the water, I spun around. I had half a mind to stay there all evening, but I needed to make dinner before Mom came home. And when I looked up at the house I saw the light on in Caleb's room. It chilled me at once—knowing that at any moment he could come trespassing out of the bathroom. If he ventured a glance out the window, he'd see me.
I grabbed the railing and pulled myself onto the steps. Pushing and splashing, I hurried out of the water. I'm not sure what was racing through my mind. A horrible mesh of lust and fear. On some level, I wanted him to see me. I wanted him to know every square inch of me, but it was still too soon.
Snatching my shorts from the deck, I hurried to the chairs. Mom kept a fresh stack of towels on a drink table just in case. I grabbed one and dabbed away at the wet spot on my shorts.
I dripped a puddle on the lanai as I dabbed at my shorts with the towel. Eventually the spot faded. I flung my underwear and towel into the bin and slipped my shorts back on. I wrapped another towel around my shoulders, opened the glass door, and stepped back into the kitchen. I listened. The pipes no longer sang.
I shimmied back to the island, fetched two wine glasses, and filled them. With all of the pain medication I was jacked up on, I wasn't supposed to be drinking at all. I took a sip anyway.
I crabbed a mixing bowl and tub of flour. Not really sure what I was making. Wasn't sure what Caleb even liked, since we never had the likes vs. dislikes discussion.
I grabbed a cookbook from the counter. Cracked it open in front of me.
"Whatcha makin'?" Caleb called from the doorway.
I glanced up at him. Wet hair. No shirt. Khaki shorts. Bare feet. I clasped my wine glass and gulped a huge drink. I questioned at once the wisdom of free-balling in sweat shorts in front of him.
"Do you like lasagna?" I asked.
"I could FUCK a lasagna!"
I grinned playfully. "Okay, you can fuck it if you want."
He grabbed the mixing bowl and made a humping motion with his hips. I busted a gut laughing and he leaned against the counter. His arm mere inches from mine.
The was nothing flirtatious about the way he stood, but he was in my space in a way that I didn't mind. A little too close for mere acquaintances. At that moment, he just seemed like a really good friend and that's what I needed.
"Sorry I cried all over you," I said.
He waved his hand. "No worries, Gage... We're all just sinners underneath."
I raised an eyebrow. Confused. Alarmed. Worried. We're all just sinners underneath? What the hell did that even mean? Was he about to Jesus-Freak me?