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-DurtyRiter
The Man with the Jeep
Chapter 51
"And what about you?" asked John.
"What do you mean?"
"I just told you my life story," John laughed. "Please sir, could you spare a penny for a pauper?"
"Oh, please," Andrew groaned.
"Tell me something about your past. Surely you can share something that I don't know."
"But my life is so boring!" Andrew protested.
"Is it? I wouldn't know..."
"Okay, okay," Andrew relented. "But if you nod off, I'm just going to stop."
"Deal!" agreed John.
Andrew wondered for a moment where to start, but decided to take his cue from John.
"Unlike you, I did not grow up in a `loud and active' home. It was more reserved than that. That's not to say we didn't have our fair share of happenings, but it was always less boisterous than anything you've ever talked about.
"My parents met at church, so I guess that was kind of the anchor that dictated how we lived. We were there Sunday mornings, Wednesday nights, and usually two other nights a week. I talked about my grandma before, and my parents were mostly like that too: everything revolved around God. I mean, our schedule went off of the church's, and our actions revolved around what we learned there.
"At some point in my teens, I realized what having faith in God meant, and the religion stuff faded more into the background for me. That made everything simultaneously easier and harder, because now I was desperate to find real truth and connect with God, butÑ-and I know you're going to laugh when I say thisÑ-I wasn't so concerned about being good all the time.
"I wasn't afraid to challenge basic assumptions because I figured truth could handle it and nothing else would. But as I got more outspoken, I realized people in church have the same strengths, failings, prejudices, worries, perspectives, and passions as anyone outside the church. Instead of helping me, they usually just decided I was rebelling and made life miserable for me. It felt like they were more openly judgmental, but it was always couched in Christian terminology as if that gave them the high ground or something.
"I remember at a Bible study one time, we were all asked if we as Christians were better, worse, or the same as sinners, and I think that was when things kind of crystallized for me. While others gave their answers (usually `better,' of course), I realized that the only answer I could give was all three at the same time: better, because we know the truth; worse, because there is no way we can live up to it; and the same, because the value of our souls is not more or less the value of anyone else's. I don't think many got what I was saying though, because they all started trying to argue with me after that.
"Anyway, while all this was going on, I was on the worship team and in some bands, so that really became my outlet."
"Wait," interrupted John. "You were in bands? You never told me that! What did you play?"
"I was just a singer for most of it, though I learned to play bass guitar later since I could never get a bassist to show up for practices."
"Hold on," John said. "When you said `band,' I was thinking like marching band. But if you're a singer, then..."
"Try rock band," Andrew laughed.
"What?!"
"I also did a techno album once, though it wasn't as good."
"WHAT?!?! You've been holding out on me!"
Andrew smiled. "It just hadn't come up yet."
"So, what kind of rock?"
"My first band was called Maestro and The Imaginary Numbers. It was supposed to be emo, but that never really got off the ground. For the bands after that, it mostly depended on which guitarists we had. It went anywhere from acoustic to pop to metal."
"And techno?"
"I suppose that label's a little optimistic, but it's definitely electronica. I did that one when I was between bands before I learned the bass. I had an old Playstation 2 and a game called MTV Music Generator 2.' I was just messing around with it for fun when my sister mentioned she was looking for workout music, so I thought why not?'" My roommate at the time was borrowing a 4-track recorder, and when he went to work one day, I figured out how to use it, and recorded five songs before he got home."
"No kidding!"
"Yeah," Andrew confirmed. "You should have seen me recording it, too. I only had a super cheap little karaoke microphone with a really short cord, and of course the soundtrack had to be routed from the Playstation through my TV, so there were cords everywhere. I had to punch `record' on the recorder, then use the game controller to start the soundtrack, then practically curl into a pretzel to be able to see the screen and still have the mic close enough to use properly."
"That sounds too funny!"
"It was!" Andrew agreed. "And I had to do it several times, of course. I would finish a track I was satisfied with and then I had to go back and do it over again for each of the background vocals I wanted."
"You did your own background vocals too?"
"Well, of course! No one else was there, and I didn't know how long my roommate would have the recorder."
"That's crazy!"
Andrew beamed. "When my roommate got home, he was nice enough to promise to finish it for me. He seemed especially impressed that all my backing tracks were sung in key too, so that was pretty flattering. He even pulled out his guitar and we recorded an acoustic ballad for my mom."
"Wow!" exclaimed John. "And you said your life was boring!"
"It mostly is," Andrew said with a shrug. "But I've always loved music and I miss being in a band and performing. It's like a therapeutic outlet where I have almost an alter ego. I often dream of picking it up again, but it takes time, so I don't know if I'll get the chance."
"Oh, come on," John protested. "If you want to do it, we can make it happen."
"And open a nursery at the same time?" Andrew challenged him. "I don't think I can swing both."
"You don't have to do them simultaneously. I'm just saying if you want to get back into that, I would be happy to help. When you feel the timing is right. If it works as your therapy, I'm doubly behind youÑ-even if you never join another band and tour the country, you could still play locally." John suggested. "I know of a venue that would be happy to have you play," he added with a wink.
"We were never big enough to tour," Andrew laughed. "We barely managed to do any recording."
"It's all good," John assured him. "But when can I hear your stuff?"
"I'll send it to you if you want," Andrew offered. "Just remember it was a long time ago and I never thought it was particularly good."
"We both know you wouldn't even if it was the next `Thriller,' John teased.
"I can tell you it's no `Thriller,' that's for sure!"
"I will be looking forward to it either way," John promised.
Andrew was pleased that John was so enthusiastic about his music. He hadn't heard a single note yet, though, so Andrew didn't expect it to last. He didn't think it was terrible or anything, but it certainly didn't seem to be worthy of radio play. But he also knew that John held therapeutic practices in high regard, so he would probably still push for Andrew to get back to it. Who knows, maybe he could actually get good one day...
"You haven't told me what you thought about the place," John said with a sweeping gesture to indicate his home.
"I like it," Andrew said. "It's so light in here!"
"Today it is," John agreed. "It really depends on the weather, though."
"All these windows are just incredible!"
"That was what hooked me too. And the price was right, so here I am."
"I have to say, I was expecting another bait and switch until the moment you opened the door," confessed Andrew.
"Really?"
"Yeah. I mean that old Quonset hut, the outhouse, the grotto, the barn... It always seems that things will be more than meets the eye with you."
"Maybe at camp, but not here in town. I can't afford stuff like that. And honestly, I don't actually like a lot of show."
"Says the man with a hidden sauna, secret straps, and a high-tech multimedia system in an outhouse!" retorted Andrew. "I thought you said you designed that entire thing!"
"I did, but there are always reasons for those things. When I'm home, I just like to be comfortable and not worry about stuff. This place is low maintenance and comfortable. It's almost like being outside with all these windows. And you should see this place at night."
"I'd like that."
"Then stay the night with me tonight."
"Of course!" came the reply before the kiss.
A kiss that was suddenly cut short when Andrew jerked with a start.
"Wait a second," he said. "Reasons? What reasons?"
Caught off guard, John was lost for a moment.
"What reasons?" he finally asked.
"Yes," Andrew declared. "You just said there were reasons for the way you designed the outhouse."
"There are."
"What are they? I've asked before, but you evaded answering, so I'm asking again."
"Fair enough!" John chuckled. "But first, take another crack at figuring it out. I think you have all pieces now."
"Okay," Andrew relented. "Let's see... You told me pointblank that the outhouse was your contribution to the property itself."
"Right."
"You also told me that your mom made the barn."
"Well, it was already there, but she repurposed it and spruced it up."
"So the outhouse was built after the barn."
"Yeah."
"Which means those sex parties were already a thing."
"Indeed they were," John confirmed with a growing smirk.
"The only reason for one way mirror glass is to watch without being seen."
"Yup."
"Did you really build the entire thing just to shoot porn in?" Andrew asked incredulously.
"You got it!" John crowed. "I originally just wanted a genuine pit stop for stair climbers and hikers, but then I thought I might as well make a porn set out of it while I was at it. There's money to be made there, and sometimes the barn isn't adequate for what they look for."
Andrew gasped. "Is that why all the cabins are different from each other too?" he asked incredulously.
"No," laughed John. "Like I said, those were built long before my time, though I have started to renovate some of them. Now that you mention it, maybe I should put those out as options too."
"Might as well," replied Andrew.
"Might as well," echoed John. "You realize you have me at a disadvantage now, right?" he asked after a moment.
"What?"
"You've had me spill my guts and figured out the secrets of my outhouse. How am I going to keep you interested when you've solved all the mysteries?"
"I have an idea about that," Andrew assured him.
"You do? I'm all ears!"
"Oh no you're not," he said, reaching between John's legs. "There is way more to you than ears."
He felt the lump he had grabbed harden and lengthen as soon as he laid hold of it and John made a low growl.
Andrew took a firm grasp of John's tool through his thin lounge pants and pulled him to his feet before leading him up the stairs to the low bed, where he spun him around and pushed him down onto his back to land on the big puffy comforter. John was surprised, but still wore a huge smile-Ñwhich was all he wore about a second later after Andrew yanked off the pajamas.
John sighed as Andrew dove down to the rigid pole that was reaching for the sky.
Maybe it was because of his chagrin at not recognizing it on video, or maybe it was simply because of all the brilliant daylight that flooded the loft, but Andrew was super aware of every curve, vein, and ridge on John's cock. He drank it in, firmly committing it to memory in every way. He wanted to be able to pick it out from a police lineup.
He had no idea where that image came from, but it was a hot one and fed his ardor. He almost got distracted wondering if every dick on the planet was different, like a fingerprint or an iris scan. Later: he was busy now!
He pulled it this way and that, getting a look at every conceivable angle, admiring the texture of the skin, the straightness of the shaft, the thickness, the heft...
Every movement Andrew made and every hot breath he blew on it made it even harder. So hard, in fact, Andrew imagined he could see the pulsing of the veins themselves as blood flowed in to strengthen it even more. It was getting more difficult to move as it engorged with excitement. It was even changing color to a darker hue.
Andrew drew closer to it and breathed it in, relishing the smell of John's crotch: sweat, pre-cum, and that unmistakable John musk all combined for a heady mix. He'd have no trouble identifying that smell!
He stuck out his tongue and tapped the very tip to savor the bead of pre-cum sitting there.
He leaned in and kissed it gently, making it jump just a tad. He moved his kisses around the head... under the flare of it...slowly making his way down the shaft, making sure not to miss a single spot
Then the tongue came out again, licking and tasting its way back up, taking its time and driving John to frustration.
Andrew opened wide and put his lips around as much of the shaft as he could from the side, never letting his tongue break contact. He slid his mouth up and down the shaft, moving around and changing his angle so no side was neglected. John began to whimper a little bit, but he was paid no heed.
Only when he was satisfied that he had gotten John to maximum mast did Andrew finally engulf the head of John's cock into his mouth. He just held it there with the mushroom top in the warm cavity, sucking on it like a giant nipple. If there was any reserve left to make that tool more monstrous, it was capped out then. Andrew slid a little farther down the shaft before pulling back to the head again. John grunted as Andrew repeated the maneuver, going just barely farther down. And again. And again. It was almost mathematical in the infinitesimal progress he made with each successive plunge down the pole.
A long time later, Andrew finally reached the very bottom with his nose buried in John's pubes. In all their playtimes, Andrew was usually just shy of this goal, but somehow the gradual progression helped him to accommodate the entire thing this time around. He slowly and methodically slid up and down John's cock from the very tip to the very base several times, reveling in his accomplishment. John was not small, especially when properly worked up like he was now. Indeed, it seemed more massive than ever, yet Andrew had managed to swallow it all! He sucked on it until John started grunting.
Nope! Andrew jumped off it quickly, leaving it straining and pulsing for release. Not yet...
He went back to kissing his way down the pole and into John's groin. He kissed his way through the luxurious bush of curly hair and up the wide treasure trail to cover his stomach with more kisses before he broke out his tongue once more. He lapped and kissed at John's abdomen as he slowly worked his way up.
He felt he could sense the tension in John's straining poker, but he continued to tease and explore the dense expanse of flesh that was beneath him.
Before too long, he had reached the lower edges of John's pecs, which he worked over just as patiently and thoroughly as he had his stomach. John's nipples did provide some distraction, though. They were just too perfect and primed to ignore, so Andrew spent some special time on them, sucking on them, swirling them around with his tongue, and nipping at them with his teeth to bring out little yips from John.
He gradually moved upwards until he was kissing and nuzzling John's neck and under his jaw. This part made John a bit squirmy as though he was being deliciously tickled. Andrew continued until he was sure he had left a nice hickey in one spot wickedly chosen to not be easy to hide with a collared shirt.
He had finally reached John's mouth now, and they made out as if they hadn't in months, full of intensity, passion, and drive. Trying to devour each other's mouths simultaneously, their tongues dueled and their teeth nipped and pulled at each other's lips until they were swollen.
With a sigh of pleasure and a hint of regret, Andrew pulled back and sat up on his haunches. He reached around and stroked John's turgid pole a few times.
"Ready for the next step?"
"Heck yes," John replied breathlessly.
"Okay," replied Andrew. "Move around a little bit so your head is up against the backboard. I want you get a good view."
"Yes sir!" agreed John at once, eager as ever to put himself in Andrew's tight hole.
He adjusted his position and Andrew moved accordingly. Andrew spit into his hand, reached back and pulled on John's cock a few times.
"Sure you're ready?" he asked.
"Yes sir!" John repeated.
Andrew grinned down at him. "Okay then."
He let go of John's cock and suddenly slapped John's balls smartly.
"Ah!" howled John at the sharp unexpected pain, put Andrew cut him short by shoving his cock deep into his wide open mouth.
"You said you were ready," Andrew declared with an evil smirk.
If you'd like me to let you know when a new chapter goes up, just send me a message and I will keep you posted. Thanks for reading, and I hope you have great day!
DurtyRiter@protonmail.com