|Micah and Me|
Copyrightę 2014, 2015 by Simon Campbell
The following is a work of fiction and is not based on true events. It contains graphic depictions of consensual sex between an adult male and two teenage boys. It exists for entertainment purposes only and should not be construed as a primer for acceptable behavior.
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After a quick shower together in his own bathroom, we were dressed and headed back to my place, making sure to take his old, sticky blanket back with us to be washed. It wouldn't have done to have his mother come home and find a spunk-encrusted 'woobie' in the hamper. Granted, she was the mother of a teenage boy, and likely expected such things, but there might be too much explaining to do if she found it upon arriving home.
We decided on something quick for dinner, so I suggested a local sandwich shop I frequented. Upon our arrival, we found it to be only mildly busy. There was an adorable young man named Drew working behind the counter who I'd always suspected of being gay, because he always seemed to flirt shamelessly with the young male customers. He'd never done so with me, though he did engage me in conversation because he'd read my books. I put his age at roughly sixteen, though he could've been fifteen if he had a work permit, and, as I'd said before, he was very easy on the eyes.
He had an adorable mop of shaggy hair, vaguely similar to Micah's, but it was brown instead of blond. He was tall and had a little more weight to him than my boy had, but he carried it well. His face was blemish-free and he had lovely emerald green eyes. Finally, he had a hoop earring through his right lower lip. I wasn't much on piercings, but I didn't mind if they were minimal. Less is more, as they say. Honestly, I wouldn't have minded bedding him, but he clearly wasn't interested in older men.
Drew smiled as I approached the counter. Micah stood behind me, hidden from view.
"Hey, Mr. Campbell," Drew said. "How's it going?"
I'd told him to use my first name many times, but he never seemed to get the message. I'd never known if it was out of respect for his elder (as we say in the South, 'his mama must've raised him right'), or the fact that he was in awe of me being, as he liked to say, a 'celebrity'. He'd actually asked for my autograph once, something with which I was not yet comfortable. It had happened a few times outside of book signings and it still struck me as strange.
"I'm doing well, Drew, and I've told you to call me 'Simon' at least a dozen times. How are you?"
"Great! I'm, like, halfway through your zombie book—"
He paused when my boy stepped out from behind me and turned as red as Micah's Spider-Man tee. If we'd been in one of those old cartoons, his eyes would've bugged straight out of their sockets. His reaction made Captain Creeper's from the night before look casual. There was no doubting what was on his mind. To his credit, he made a quick recovery by putting on his best 'nice shoes, wanna fuck?' smile and put on the charm.
"Who's your friend, Simon?" Drew asked without looking at me.
The fact that he called me by my first name was a sure sign that the sight of my boy had him gobsmacked. I'd never seen him so uncomfortable around another boy. He'd always been able to play it cool when he'd flirted with the other young dudes that blew through here.
"This is my – uhh, nephew, Micah," I replied, keeping up our ruse. "He's been staying with me this weekend while his mom's out-of-town."
Micah squeezed between my body and the counter to step in front of me, ostensibly to get a better view of the boy behind the counter. He smiled and his face flushed.
"Hi," he said nervously, holding up his hand in a wave.
"Nice to meet you," Drew said. "Do you live around here?"
My boy – the one who just two nights ago had found boldness enough to march into my room, climb on top of me, and jerk us both off – now seemed completely flummoxed with the attention of this handsome, fellow teen.
"I haven't...seen you before," Drew said as he regained the 'smooth operator' vibe he was so famous for, "which is a damn shame."
Micah had never taken my compliments well, often looking at the floor and blushing when I dished them out. He appeared to be enjoying Drew's, however, though he was still blushing. It was both adorable and infuriating. I wasn't sure I liked Drew anymore, and for the first time in my life, I wanted to scratch someone's eyes out.
Yes, I was jealous. Sue me.
"What grade are you in?" Drew asked.
Micah flipped his hair, and I wondered if it had the same effect on Drew as it did on me.
"I’m a – freshman—" his voice went up an octave on the third word. He cleared his throat and continued, "—at...uhh, Kolden."
Drew's eyes widened and I knew exactly what he was thinking.
While it was true that there were many kids from wealthy families at Kolden Academy, most still came from the middle class.
"Scholarship," Micah added, reading Drew's thoughts as well as I had.
It was a little white lie. He wasn't there on a scholarship, but not because they were rich. Thanks to the insurance settlement his mom had received after her husband's death, they'd been able to afford the tuition.
"Ahh, so you're cute and smart."
"I'm not that smart," my boy replied, turning even redder.
Micah seemed ready to either dig a hole and crawl into it, or jump the counter and go at it with his potential suitor. He smiled and flipped his hair, which made me wonder if it was more a method of flirting than it was to clear the locks from his face.
"I'm a sophomore at Stewart," Drew said, which told me he was probably fifteen, and that he went to one of the local public schools, "but we should totally hang out some time."
"Sure!" Micah replied with likely more enthusiasm than he'd intended. "I mean...maybe."
Having taken all I could of Jared from Subway, Jr. flirting with my boy, I decided to move things along. There was a line forming behind us, after all.
"Drew," I said. "Our order?"
He snapped his head back toward me. If I'd blinked, I would have missed the annoyed look that screamed, "Don't cock-block me, bro," and seen only his half-hearted, apologetic smile.
Drew prepared our order and we sat down at an empty, out-of-the-way table. As we ate – well, as I ate – I couldn't help but notice the not-so-furtive glances exchanged between Micah and his new admirer. On the inside, I was steaming. Here I was, finally accepting that we might actually have a chance of making this work, and this sandwich-making Casanova was trying to horn in on my action. I suppose I should've been happy that Micah was attracted to someone his own age. It would be a lot better for him than being stuck with an older dude like me. I mean, my brain knew and accepted that, but my heart – oh, fuck, my heart – just couldn't take the idea of him being with someone else.
He was my boy, dammit. Mine!
Jealousy does not look good on you.
No, it really doesn't.
"You're not eating your sandwich," I pointed out, trying to get his attention.
Micah's head snapped back and he gave me a puzzled look. "What?"
"Yes, I'm still here," I said with a smile. "You're not eating your sandwich."
He looked down at his untouched meal. "Oh, yeah...sorry."
He picked it up, took a small bite, and chewed it thoughtfully.
"So you and Drew, huh?"
After a long sip of his Coke, his eyes met mine. "What are you talking about?" Micah asked. He was either oblivious or trying to cover.
"I thought I was going to have to hose you down."
Micah took another bite of his sandwich and shook his head. When he was finished chewing, he said, "You're crazy. He wasn't flirting with me, and I didn't flirt back."
Before I could respond, Drew showed up out of nowhere beside our table.
"Here, Micah," he said, holding out a cookie wrapped in paper. "On the house."
Micah turned red again as he held out his hand and accepted the gift.
"No, problem. I – umm – wrote my phone number down on the bottom of the wrapper. Ya know, in case you wanna hang out. You should, like, text me some time."
Damn, this kid had balls. Ginormous, brass ones. Never in a million years would I have been so bold at his age. Hell, I wasn't now!
Drew winked at Micah. "I'd better get back to work."
After a deep gaze into Micah's eyes, he turned and went back behind the counter.
That's it! Drew needs to die. In a fire. After suffering multiple stab and gunshot wounds.
And where the hell was my fucking cookie?!
Micah looked stunned. He watched Drew walk away – well, he watched his ass walk away – and then looked down at the wrapped cookie. He turned it over to find Drew's phone number, next to which was drawn a 'less than' sign and a '3'.
"See," I said. "He was totally flirting, and you didn't exactly discourage him."
He shook his head again. "He wasn't – I – like, I'm sure they give out free cookies all the time."
"I've been coming here a long time, and they've never once given out cookies, especially not ones with phone numbers and hearts written on them. Face it, kiddo, you've been propositioned."
He still didn't look like he got it.
"What?" he said. "No!"
I nodded. "I'm afraid so, Punk."
"Well, I wasn't—"
"Yeah, you kinda were. Are you telling me you don't find him attractive?"
"No buts," I interrupted. "You were flirting."
"Fine, I was flirting." He opened the wrapper, peeked inside at the cookie, and quickly sealed it back up. "Shit."
"What's the matter?"
He looked over toward the counter to see if Drew was watching and breathed a sigh of relief to find he wasn't. He leaned in close.
"It's oatmeal raisin," he said, making a face.
"So? You don't like—?"
"I'm allergic to raisins." He once again peeked over at the counter before surreptitiously placing the cookie on the table and pushing it to the middle.
"Is it serious?"
"Only if I eat them. Anaphylactic shock. It ain't pretty."
One of my nephews had a peanut allergy, so I was very familiar with allergic reactions.
"He probably just grabbed the first one he saw, not realizing that the token of his love might kill you. It's kinda sweet, in an involuntary manslaughter sort of way."
"I should give it back to him," he said as he reached for the cookie.
I held out my hand to stop him. "You can't give it back to him. You'll hurt his feelings."
"Yeah, you're probably right," he said after a moment of thought. "I'll just throw it away when we leave."
He took another bite of his sandwich.
"You can't do that either. He might see you. Besides, you wouldn't want to accidentally throw away Romeo's number."
Micah finished chewing, swallowed, and took another sip of his drink.
"You're jealous," he said, his mouth forming into a crooked smile.
There was no point in denying it because he'd know I was lying. I was insanely jealous. It killed me that Micah was attracted to this other boy, though I couldn't say that I blamed him. Drew was hot. Of course, that didn't change the fact that I wanted to claw the bitch to death for making advances towards my Punky. I didn't like being jealous, but I couldn't help myself.
"Of course, I'm jealous," I admitted.
He smiled wider. "Aww, how cute. Simon's jealous of Sandwich Guy."
I sighed heavily. "It's not cute."
He rolled his eyes. "Oh, it's perfectly okay for you to make fun of me last night for being jealous of you staring at Parker's ass."
He had me there.
"That was totally different."
Micah snorted. "Really? How?"
It wasn't any different, of course, but that didn't stop me from trying to come up with a reason anyway.
"Because – because—" I came up empty. "Because eat your sandwich, that's how."
"Ha! I win!" he said with a smirk.
"I’m not a brat. "
"Brat," I said through a pretend cough.
"Dick," he said in the same manner.
We laughed. The playful banter was fun, so I decided to keep it going.
"You gonna call him?"
Micah took a sip of this drink and shook his head. "No."
"I think you wanna call him."
"I don't wanna call him."
"You gonna go out with him?"
He giggled. "No! Shut up!"
"You gonna marry him?"
He tossed a Frito at my head. "You really think I'd choose him over you?"
"You might," I said with a wink. "You'd dump me and run away with Drew. You'll marry him, become Mrs. Sandwich Guy, and have a whole litter of sandwich babies together."
He kicked me under the table, though not very hard.
"Oww! What was that for?"
"For being an ass," he replied with a smirk.
"Drew and Micah, sittin' in a tree...K-I-S-S-I-N-G"
Micah turned red. "Shush! He'll hear you."
He glanced over at the counter and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that Drew was busy with a customer.
"First comes love, then comes marriage...Here comes Micah with a baby carriage!"
He laughed. "I don't like you anymore."
"You don't like me any less."
He flipped me off. "Yeah, well, you better hush, or I'll dump your hundred year old ass."
It was my turn to throw a potato chip at him. He ducked.
"A hundred, huh? I ought to spank you for that."
"Ooo!" he said with a hopeful smile.
I shook my head. "Finish your sandwich, freakazoid."
We made small talk for a few minutes as we finished our dinner. Micah told me a little more about school, and I shared some details about the vampire book I was writing. I suggested that we watch a movie that evening, one of the many I'd referred to over the last few days. He agreed. Of course, he had to bring the subject back around to my jealousy.
"Are you really jealous?
I nodded. "Yeah, a little."
"Pfft! Try a lot."
"Okay, a lot."
"I like that you're jealous," he said. "But you don't have a thing to worry about."
"I know that. If Drew tried anything, I'd have him taken care of. I know people."
"You do, huh?"
"No," I admitted, "but I’m not above taking him out to the middle of nowhere and beating the shit out of him."
"Aww!" Micah said with a grin. "You really do love me!"
We finished off our sandwiches in silence and gathered our trash together. Just as we were about to get up from the table, Micah leaned over.
"I'm horny again," he whispered.
"When are you not horny?"
He laughed. "We should skip the movie tonight and have hot monkey sex instead."
"Hmm. Should I watch a movie, or have hot monkey sex with Micah?" I acted as if it were a tough choice. "That depends. What movie?"
"Fine, I could always see if Drew's busy tonight."
He pretended as if he was going to get up from the table.
"Wait, wait, wait!" I said. "After careful consideration, I have decided to take you up on your offer."
"I'm not sure I want to now." He offered a wicked smile. "I think I might have a headache."
"I'll give you a headache. Come on, let's go." I stood up from the table. "Don't forget to say goodbye to your boyfriend."
"Bite me," he replied as he punched my arm.
He offered a casual wave at Drew as we tossed our trash (and the cookie on the sly) and left the restaurant.
We held hands in silence as we cruised along on our twenty-minute drive home. There was no need for words; we just wanted to enjoy each other's company. The radio was on, but the volume only just high enough to hear the music without it disturbing our solitude. I relished the feeling of his hand in mine. The simple intimacy of the gesture made me feel safe and loved, but also reminded me that precious little time remained for us to be together.
Finally, about halfway into our drive home, I broke the silence.
"You saved me, Punky."
"It sounds silly, I know, but you saved me. My whole life, I've been lonely. I never thought I'd love anyone, or have anyone love me back. Then you came along. You showed me I was worthy of love, something I never would have believed before this weekend. What we shared today – what you shared with me – was the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. You've pulled me out of my loneliness, and helped me find my voice again. You've made everything better, Micah. You – you saved me."
He squeezed my hand.
I felt myself tear up. "This weekend with you, Punky, has been the best three days of my life. I don't know how—"
As much as I hated to cry, I couldn't help myself. It was all just too much.
"Pull over, Simon," Micah said as he held onto my hand.
There was a park up ahead on the right, and I somehow managed to navigate the SUV off the road and into a parking space. I shut off the engine only, leaving the radio to play freely.
Micah pulled my hand to his mouth and kissed it. "I love you."
I looked over at him and smiled. "I love you too."
"It's gonna be okay," he said. "We're gonna be okay."
I nodded. "I know."
He smiled. "Yeah."
I held onto his hand as if my life depended on it. Part of me was afraid I'd lose him forever if I let go.
"Sorry I got jealous of Drew."
Micah shook his head. "I got jealous over you and Parker, so I think we're even."
"Besides, after what we did today, I'm not sure I'll ever want to be with anyone else."
I raised an eyebrow. "You mean I ruined all other men for you?"
He nodded. "Men, sandwich guys, Captain Creeper, you name it."
"It was cool to be flirted with, I'll admit, but I have exactly what I want right here."
"That means a lot, Punky. Thank you. I'm so glad you enjoyed yourself today."
"I did," he said. "It was awesome – so much more than just sex. I never thought it could be so great."
I winked at him. "It sounds like you might want to do it again."
"Again," he said with a sly grin, "and again, and again, and again."
We both got a good laugh out of that.
"In fact..." Micah said as he moved his hand to my thigh.
I gazed down to see him slide his hand up to my crotch. Inside my pants, Simon Jr. awoke from his slumber. I looked up to see a rather mischievous grin on his face.
"Umm, what are you doing?"
His hand engulfed and massaged my hard cock through the denim. "Let's do it in the car."
"Mmm," I moaned. "Fuck."
Micah moved from his seat and began to climb over the center console.
"Wait!" I said as I looked around outside. The park was empty, but still. "Here?"
He crawled into my lap and reached toward the floorboard. The seatback reclined suddenly with a sharp thud.
"Oof!" I uttered in surprise.
"Of course here," he said as his hands moved down to my waist and unbuttoned my jeans. "Why not? It'll be really hot."
My zipper went down, and my pants jerked open in a flash, thanks to his nimble fingers. He grabbed my dick and began to jack it hard inside my underwear.
"Holy – fuck! We – we can't – not here!" I'd never had sex in a car before, much less in a car parked in public. This was apparently my weekend to push my luck and thwart as many laws as humanly possible.
He pressed his mouth to mine and I immediately felt his tongue pressing against my lips. I opened my mouth. Our tongues met and began to dance wildly together. His hands pulled down my boxer-briefs with such force that they very nearly ripped. He grabbed hold of my shaft and jerked it with a desperate ferocity.
He broke the kiss.
"You've got tinted windows, Simon," he said, as if that made having sex in public perfectly legal. "And I want you inside me right now."
His hand continued to work my cock and we resumed our kiss.
Fuck, this was so wrong – so fucking wrong. Yet, I wanted it so bad. I wanted him.
My hands moved up to his waist, yanked down the loose-fitting cargo shorts, and grabbed his plump ass cheeks. I pulled him down on top of me, pressing his hardness into mine. He ground downwards aggressively, almost painfully, as his lips moved to my neck, licking and sucking greedily. I thrust myself upwards into him, my hands kneading the perfect orbs of his backside. I felt his teeth nibbling – fuck, no, biting – my neck. I yanked down his undies and felt the soft flesh of his cock against mine.
I quickly forgot we were inside a car, parked in the lot of a playground, where children played, next to a stretch of road. All I wanted was to plunge myself inside him and give my boy the ride of his life.
Then again, there was one small problem.
"We don't—" I said breathlessly. "We don't have any – lube."
His mouth broke away from my neck. "I'm way ahead of you."
He reached down to his shorts, his hands fumbling to find the pockets. When he found one, he reached inside and produced the bottle we'd become well acquainted with the last two days. He held it up and offered a devious smile.
I laughed. "You brought lube to dinner?"
"I had a plan," he countered. "Besides, you never know when you might need it."
He'd been planning something like this all along. Why else would he have allowed the lube to tag along for the ride? Where had he intended for it to happen? It's not as if we could have gone at it in the restaurant. What the hell had he had in mind? He really was quite the schemer.
"You'd have made one hell of a Boy Scout," I said. "Always prepared."
He laughed. "Do they give out merit badges for sex?"
"If they don't, they certainly should."
He popped the cap on the bottle. Resting his elbows on the seat behind me, he squirted some of the slippery liquid into his hand and reached down between us. His small hand wrapped itself around my shaft, twisting round and round, moving up and down. As he worked my dick, his teeth found my neck again, the bites more aggressive than before. It was enough to make me blow my wad right then, but I wanted that to happen inside him. I had to control myself.
With my cock all slicked up, Micah squirted some more lube into his hand, reached around and began to work on his hole. I reached down between us to grab hold of his prick, which was already dripping with pre-cum, and began jerking him. He let out a sharp hiss of air as I did so, while he continued to finger his hole.
"Are you ready?" he asked, looking up at me with his blue eyes obscured by those flaxen locks.
"Fuck, yeah," I said, barely able to breathe.
The air in the car had grown hot, causing the windows to begin to steam up. I'm sure this was quite the sight for the passing motorists. It reminded me of those bumper stickers you used to see on those conversion vans in the seventies: "If this van's a rockin', don't come a knockin'." We were swiftly approaching the rockin' stage.
He pulled his hand from his backside, reached between us, and took hold of my cock, preparing to guide it inside him. I'd just felt myself penetrate the folds of his ass when the radio suddenly went silent, replaced with the sound of an annoying ringtone. My SUV was Bluetooth-enabled, and the ringing was my cell phone. What a time to receive a fucking phone call.
"Fuck," I said.
"Don't answer it," Micah said.
The phone kept ringing as the head of my dick pressed against his hole. As he began to lower himself onto me, he leaned back and his elbow nudged the steering wheel, inadvertently bumping the 'answer call' button.
"Oh, god," I said as I felt myself press into Micah. "So hot."
"Hello?" a voice said. "Simon?"
It was Kim. Of all the fucking people who could've called at that moment, it had to be her.
"Simon?" Kim said. "Is that you? Is something wrong?"
Yeah, I'm kind of in the middle of something here.
My cock literally deflated. I'm serious. It was as if someone pulled the plug on a blow up toy. You could almost hear the air hissing out of it. Nothing took the joy out of buggering an underage boy like his mom calling mid-felony.
Micah was doing his best not to laugh aloud, though I really didn't see the humor in it.
"Everything's fine, Kim. Just—" my mind searched for something to say. "Just a second."
Micah stifled laughter. I playfully slapped the side of his head, trying not to laugh myself.
"Is everything okay?" Kim asked.
"Yeah, Kim," I said. "Everything's great. We're – uhh...at the park, and it's hot out here. That's why I said..."
Quit while you're ahead. Shut the fuck up!
"What are y'all up to?" Kim asked.
"Nothing, Mom," Micah said, reaching down to pull up his pants and underwear. He climbed back over the center console and plopped down in his seat.
"We were just driving home from grabbing a bite to eat, and decided to stop off at the park," I said, pulling up my briefs and jeans, fumbling to zip and button them. "How was the funeral?"
I'd always thought that was an odd question to ask, as if the person had just attended some kind of sporting event. It was a funeral. How else would it be?
"It was nice," she said, sounding a lot less-stressed than the last time we'd spoken. "Thank you for the flowers."
I thought I could hear the sound of a semi-truck releasing its air brakes, and there was quite a lot of traffic noise in the background. Where the heck was she?"
"You're welcome," I replied. "Where are you, Kim?"
There was a brief pause before she spoke again.
"What was that, Simon? I'm sorry, but I couldn't hear you for the noise."
"I asked where you were," I said a little louder as my hand fumbled to put my seat back into position.
I could hear people talking in the background.
"I'm at a rest stop in Macon," she said, "about two hours from home."
What the hell? She was coming home?
Micah and I exchanged glances. What was going on? We were supposed to have one more night together.
"Did you—?" I paused, afraid to ask the question. "Did you say you were on your way home?"
Son of a bitch!
"We thought you were coming home tomorrow," Micah interjected. He'd dug out the Handi Wipes from the backseat and was cleaning his hands.
Kim sighed and the sound of a truck engine turning over came through the speakers.
"Yeah, well," she said, "your grandpa was getting rather cantankerous with all of us fussing over him, so he basically threw us out. Your uncle is still there with him, the poor guy."
She chuckled, apparently amused at the task that had been dumped on her brother, and grateful that it hadn't been her. The old man must've been quite cantankerous indeed.
"Anyway, I suppose it's for the best. I really can't afford to miss work tomorrow. Fortunately, they were able to put me back on the schedule. That's good news for you too, Simon. You'll get Micah out of your hair."
My heart sank. It wasn't fair. One more day! I was supposed to have one more day. I wondered what she'd say if I told her she couldn't have him back.
"He's mine!" I could say. "I claim him in the name of boy lovers everywhere! You can't have him back!"
You forgot the 'nanny-nanny-boo-boo' part at the end.
Somehow, I don't think that would help my case.
Yeah, cuz you're on such solid, legal ground with that 'I claim him in the name of boy lovers everywhere' defense.
Possession is nine-tenths of the—
Pretty sure that doesn't apply to people.
"He's not in my hair, Kim." In my pants, of course, was a completely different story. "Micah's more than welcome to stay another night."
Please say 'yes'! Please say 'yes'!
"We've imposed on you enough, Simon," she responded, much to my chagrin. "I'll be home soon to take him off your hands."
Trying not to sound overly disappointed, I answered, "It's no imposition, Kim, but I understand."
"Okay," Kim said, "see you in a little while. Love you, Micah."
"Love you too, Mom."
He'd sounded disappointed, which made me feel a little better. He didn't want to leave either; he wanted to stay. That went a little ways toward softening the blow of the bad news.
"Bye, guys," Kim said.
"Bye," we both said together.
I tapped the button on the steering wheel to disconnect the call and music from the radio came flooding back through the speakers. Leeann Rimes was singing "How Do I Live." The universe was having a little musical fun at our expense.
"Is it too late to make a run for the border?" I asked, reaching over to take hold of his hand.
Micah laughed. "You mean pull a Lucy and Ethel?"
"Thelma and Louise," I corrected with a snort. "And how do you know about Lucy and Ethel but not Thelma and Louise?"
"TVLand," he responded. "Mom loves watching the old shows."
I let out a heavy sigh. "This bites."
He squeezed my hand. "Don't be sad, Simon. I promise you it'll work out."
" I know, Punky. We'll just have to make the most of the time we have left."
"Yeah," he said. "Now hurry up and get home so we can finish what we started."
I cranked the truck and put it into gear.
"That was really stupid of us to try and do that here."
"Stupid, maybe," he said. "Hot, definitely."
I glanced over at him as I drove toward the park's exit.
'You're a dirty, dirty boy."
"Yep," he said, not at all ashamed.
Once we were back on the road, one of my favorite tunes – a beautiful song from the nineties began to play on the radio. Then, not caring how stupid it made me look, how sappy it was, or that I couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, I began to sing along with Edwin McCain.
Lying here with you
Micah blushed and began to laugh. "What're you doing, Simon?"
"Shush, I’m singing to you."
"Yeah," he said. "Badly."
His taunts made me sing louder, which made it sound even worse.
Looking in your eyes
"You're such a dork," Micah said with a giggle.
"Shut up, I’m not finished."
I could not ask for more than this time together
The song ended and I realized how corny it had been to sing to him. I'd turned our car ride home into a scene straight of a cheesy romantic comedy.
"Well, thank God that's over," Micah said.
"What? You thought it was sweet when I sang to you yesterday."
"It was sweet, but you couldn't sing then either."
I made a face. "That bad, huh?"
"Horrible," he replied, "and kinda dorky."
"Cute dorky, or dorky dorky?"
"A little of both," he answered, putting his arm around my waist. "But mostly dorky dorky."
I laughed. "But I get points for the cute part, right?"
"You get points for both being sweet and being a dork," he replied, "but not for your singing."
"Why didn't you tell me yesterday you didn't like my singing? You just let me make an idiot of myself for nothing."
"Oh, it wasn't for nothing. I got to see you make an idiot of yourself."
He nudged me with his body. "That's what my ears were saying. Your singing almost made me regret throwing away Drew's phone number."
I'd known I couldn't sing, but it was fun to listen to him bust my balls. I really didn't mind him giving me a hard time.
"So you're saying I shouldn't try out for American Idol?"
"Only if you want to totally humiliate yourself."
"Okay, okay!" I said. "I get it. I can't sing."
"You really can't."
I reached over and mussed his blond locks.
"Hey! Don't touch the hair!"
Despite the fun we had in the car on the drive home, our moods were somber when we arrived home a few minutes later. While we were both trying to put up a brave front, Kim's news had tainted our Cheerio's with urine, so there was no hiding our disappointment. For my part, I was trying to be upbeat, but found it to be an exercise in futility. This was going to happen regardless of how we felt about it. Somber or not, Micah was determined to finish what we'd started earlier in the truck, and tried to drag me upstairs as soon as we walked in the door.
"Come on, manwhore," he said, tugging on my arm. "We don't have much time."
I didn't argue; he was right. There wasn't much time left for us to enjoy together. We had one last opportunity to share intimacy before reality crashed down upon us. Besides, like Micah, I also wanted to finish what we had started earlier. I ached to be inside him again.
Once we reached the bedroom, it took us no time at all to get undressed. Micah pushed me down on the bed and did not waste a second – in no time he had my cock slathered with lube. When he was done, he worked the liquid into his ass, and moaned loudly as his finger entered his hole. If things kept up after this weekend, it might become necessary to purchase lube in bulk from now on.
Satisfied that he was ready for action, my boy tossed the bottle aside, climbed over my body, and straddled me. He leaned over and kissed me hard and I enjoyed the feeling of his tongue as it danced along with mine. After he broke the kiss, he looked down at me with those wonderful eyes, which caused his hair to hang down over his face. He smiled at me.
"I love you."
I winked at him. "I love you too."
He giggled as he positioned himself over my dick. His hand reached down to guide me into his hole. I felt myself once again glide between his cheeks and press against his sphincter. Anxious to get started, he began to lower himself down onto me. It was much easier this time, and my head popped inside him with little resistance.
He winced. "Fuck."
His muscles clamped down hard as I once again enjoyed the warm softness of his insides. I felt him relax and begin to lower himself further; his ass swallowed half my cock in that single move. I appreciated his enthusiasm, but I hoped he'd not hurt him himself in the process.
He let out a moan. "Holy shit."
I placed my hands on the soft flesh of his waist and rubbed it gently. He looked down at me again and smiled.
"Almost there," he said.
My hands moved down his thighs and I savored the silky smoothness of his skin. His muscles once again clamped down around my hardness. Damn, it felt good. As before, I had to fight the urge to thrust upwards to bury myself inside him. I wanted him to be in control this time. It was his party.
"Here we go," he said, and lowered himself with one final move. "Oh, god. Oh, fuck."
I moaned loudly as I slid all the way inside him. His cheeks plopped down on my thighs; his perfect, almost hairless, ball sack, rested on my pubes.
"Are you okay, Punky?"
"Yeah. Oh, fuck...yeah. How does it feel?"
He smiled as he rocked himself over my cock. After a minute or so, he began to move up and down, as he continued to sway back and forth. His back arched and his head tilted to one side. The look on his exhibited pleasure. He was enjoying this.
"Mmm," he said as he rode me at a slow and deliberate pace.
Having resisted as long as possible, I began to thrust myself up into him on each of his downward motions. We soon developed a nice rhythm, the two of us becoming one again as we made love to each other. As I said before, Parker liked it hard and fast, but Micah preferred to take the slow and easy route. I was not going to argue; I would give him whatever he wished.
He looked down at me and smiled. "Come here."
I raised myself off the bed and he adjusted his legs so they wrapped around me. His hands moved to my back and I felt his fingernails dig into my flesh. My own hands found their way to his waist and began to lift him up and down on me. He clawed my back harder and I let out a loud hiss as his nails scratched downwards.
"Oh, god, Simon."
Our heads tilted – his up, mine down – and our mouths met again in a long kiss. My hands shifted around and my fingers dug into the soft mounds of his ass as I continued to move him up and down. The kiss grew more aggressive; his tongue moved deeper into my mouth. I felt his cock harden against my stomach.
He broke our kiss, moved his mouth next to my ear, and spoke in a breathless whisper.
"You on top now."
He unlocked his legs and climbed off me. He then rolled over on his back and lifted his legs. His hard, little cock stood at attention, tall and proud.
I knew we had little time to waste, so I yanked a pillow from the head of the bed, placed it underneath his rear, and repositioned myself with great haste.
"Inside me again." His tone was desperate. "Hurry."
There was no need to ask me twice. I pushed myself into him with a gentle motion.
"Fuck, Simon. Feels so good."
My arms slipped underneath the crooks of his knees and I lifted him off the bed. As I began to move in and out, his hand wrapped around his cock and jerked it. I continued my slow, deliberate thrusts and he became more and more vocal.
"Oh, god. A little harder...faster."
My speed increased by a hair, the fap sound of flesh against flesh grew louder. The air grew hot hot; the smell of sex filled the room.
"Yeah, just – just like that."
As worked up as I'd been before we began, I hadn't expected to last very long. By some miracle, however, I made it much longer than I would have imagined. How long I don't know, because, to be honest, I lost all track of time. Of course, the moment of truth had to come.
No pun intended.
"Fuck. I'm gonna come!"
Micah moaned loudly.
"Oh, god. Fuck!"
I plunged myself deep inside him; his ass tightened around me. With a loud moan, I unloaded and shot spurt after spurt of my seed inside him. The orgasm ripped through my body with such intensity, that I almost collapsed under the weight of it.
I lowered his body down to the bed. He let out a loud moan as his hand continued to jerk himself. I grabbed the discarded bottle of lube, squirted some in my palm, and reached down to push his hand away.
"Here," I said. "Let me."
I took hold of his shaft and twisted my hand around, slid it up and down, all while I used my thumb to tease his head.
"Mmm," he said. "Oh, yeah."
I moved faster and his moans grew louder until it was obvious he could take no more. He gave no warning other than the arch of his back and the sight of his fingers digging deep into the mattress below him.
"Oh – oh! Unnnggghhh!"
Several volleys of the boy's spunk shot into the air. It landed, as before, on his face, neck, chest, and stomach. As his body rode out the climax, I continued to jerk his boyhood to milk it of all its nectar, some of which dribbled out onto my fingers. Once it was clear the eruption was over, there remained a small glob of come on the head of his cock. I leaned over, took the tip into my mouth, and lapped it up. I used my tongue to tease the sensitive skin. His body squirmed beneath me.
"Stop – please. Can't – can't take it."
I moved away from his cock and began to lick his body clean. Once finished, I pushed my mouth to his and shared the taste with him.
"That was—" I began.
I scooted my body over next to him and put my arm over his body. I felt a sadness come over me when I realized this would be the last time we'd get to do this for a while. It just wasn't right.
Stupid mom and her stupid coming home early.
"You're the best," I said. "Thank you."
"For giving me the best gift ever."
I squeezed him tight and felt the rapid beating of his heart begin to slow.
"I don't want to go home," he said suddenly. "I want to stay with you."
His voice sounded shaky. This was the first time he'd allowed a crack to show in his resolve. I guess he wasn't as tough as he let on.
"I know, Punk, and I don't want you to go. It's like you said though, we'll figure something out."
"Yeah. Summer vacation's coming up."
"Hey, you're right. Have you ever been camping?"
"My dad took us a couple of times, but I haven't been in years."
I couldn't imagine that his mom might have an objection to a camping trip.
"We'll go then, just you and me."
We lay there in silence for another ten minutes before I remembered there was a timetable. We could not delay the inevitable.
"We'd better get cleaned up. Your mom will be here soon."
After a quick shower, we got dressed and I helped Micah gather his stuff together. All that remained was for us to await Kim's return. We sat in the study – me in the desk chair, Micah on my lap – while we enjoyed our last few moments together. My arms held him tight as I rested my chin on his shoulder. The pineapple scent of his hair made me feel warm and cozy. From now on, I would always associate that smell with my boy.
Micah broke the silence. "This bites."
"Totally bites, but it'll be okay."
I turned my head slightly and kissed his neck.
"Mmm, nice." He tilted his head to give me better access.
I gave his a skin a few gentle nibbles and his body writhed in response.
"Fuck, Simon, you'd better stop that unless you want it to lead to somewhere we don't have time to go. I'm getting hard."
The problem was that I did want it to lead somewhere. I wanted to rip open his pants and give his erection the attention it deserved. He was right, however. We didn't have the time, so I pulled away and rested my chin on his shoulder again.
"Sorry," I said.
He sighed. "What are we gonna do?"
I thought about my answer. Not too long ago, I'd have been worried to death about it, but now I felt a cautious optimism. Things had to work out for us. I would accept nothing else.
"A solution will present itself. I'm sure of it."
"Yeah," he said.
Five minutes later, the doorbell rang.
"Fuck," I said.
"Watch your language."
He giggled as he hopped up from the chair.
We made our way to the front door as if it were the march to our execution.
Dead men walking.
I approached the front door with a heavy heart and opened it with the hope that it would be somebody, anybody, but Kim. Perhaps it would be a traveling salesman, or a Jehovah's Witness. Hell, even Freddy Krueger would have been a more welcome sight.
Okay, so maybe not Freddy Krueger. That movie still fucked with my head.
"Hi, Simon," Kim said.
"How are you?"
"Tired. It's a hard drive at the best of times; worse if you're exhausted."
"I bet. So I suppose you want your kid back."
I'd meant it to be a joke, but I'm not sure the tone of my voice made it sound that way. It came out as more of an accusation. She was so tired that she didn't seem to notice.
She laughed. "I'm surprised you're not anxious to get rid of him."
"Not at all. We had a great time. Right...buddy?"
I'd almost called him 'Punky'. His mom might ask questions about the nickname and I had no idea how to explain it.
Micah stepped out from behind me. "Hi, Mom."
Kim smiled. "Did you have a good time?"
He stepped forward and gave her a hug.
"Did you drive Simon crazy?"
In a manner of speaking.
He giggled. "No, Ma'am."
She turned her attention back to me. "He wasn't any trouble?"
"He started a few bar fights, and there was that incident with the Molotov cocktail, but everything went great otherwise."
"I'm so relieved. I wasn't sure how it would go, especially with Parker. Again, I'm so sorry about that."
I shook my head. "It was no trouble. They're both welcome here whenever. In fact—"
Micah jumped in. "Mom, can I go camping with Simon this summer?"
Kim looked at me.
"Yeah, I was just about to mention that," I said. "I thought it might be fun."
She nodded. "I don't think it will be a problem, but we'll see. For now, we should probably get out of here and give Simon some peace. Where's your stuff?"
Micah pointed to his duffel bag on the floor, and his school uniform hanging on the back of the door.
"Okay, grab it and let's go."
"Oh, crap!" Micah said. "I forgot my skateboard upstairs."
"Oh, Micah. Well, hurry up and get it. I'll take your stuff with me."
Micah turned and bounded up the stairs.
"Thanks again, Simon." She gathered his duffel and uniform. "So you guys really did have fun?"
"We did. As I said on the phone yesterday, we sort of bonded. I think it was good for him."
"Me too. He needs a positive male role model. Thank God for you. You don't know how much I appreciate it."
"Anytime you want to get rid of him, just give me a call."
"I might just take you up on that. Good night, Simon."
She turned, walked out, and closed the door behind her.
I let out a long sigh as I turned toward the stairwell.
Micah's voice rang out from the upstairs hallway. "Is she gone?"
"Coast is clear, buddy."
He bounded down the stairs and into the foyer, with his skateboard in hand. He leaned the board against the front door and looked up at me.
"I didn't really forget it. I left it up there on purpose."
Micah sported a devilish grin and flipped his hair. "I don't think she would have appreciated my goodbye."
He stepped over and embraced me in a tight hug. His hands moved from my back down to my ass, which he squeezed.
I laughed. "Cheeky monkey!"
I'd always wanted to say that to someone, but had never had the opportunity.
He pulled away from the embrace. "I'll miss you."
I dropped down to my knees in front of him. "I'll miss you too."
Micah leaned down and pressed his lips to mine – one last awesome kiss for the road. I would definitely miss this. I reached around and planted my hands on his ass.
"Mmm," he said.
The kiss ended. He looked down at me with those blue eyes one last time and flipped his hair.
"I'd better go before Mom has a cow."
I stood to my feet. "Yeah."
All weekend I'd known this moment would come. When I'd pictured it in my head, I'd expected tears. I hadn't expected them from him, mind you, but the even money was on my total loss of control. In other words, I had anticipated I'd bawl like a baby. I surprised the odds makers, and myself, however, when I was somehow able to hold myself together. There were no tears at all. Perhaps neither of us cried because we both knew that this wasn't a final goodbye. We'd see each other again. As he'd said earlier, he was right next door. It wouldn't quite be the same, of course, but we'd figure out a way to be together. That's all that mattered in the end.
Micah picked up his skateboard, opened the front door, and turned to me.
I smiled. "Bye, Punky."
With one final hair flip, he walked out onto the porch and down the sidewalk. I stepped onto the threshold and watched him depart, as the crickets chirped the soundtrack of our goodbye. As soon as he stepped off the concrete to cut across the front yard on his short journey home, I shut the front door and stood alone in the foyer.
The house already seemed empty without him. Too empty.
As the weight of the loneliness crashed down around me, my brave front collapsed in on itself.
That was when I cried.
I felt I'd earned it.
For ten minutes, I allowed myself to stand there and sob. Any longer and I would have descended into an emotional abyss from which there might be no escape. I couldn't allow that to happen. I had to stand strong. I had to have hope.
It's not over. I won't let it be over.
Micah had said we'd figure it out, and figure it out we would. I didn't know how, but it didn't need to be resolved right this second.
"A solution will present itself," I said aloud, a repeat of the words I'd used not too long ago.
I laughed. "Damn straight."
I tried to put it out of my mind and get back to business as usual. I had plenty to do. My sheets needed to be 'de-spunked' for one, and I still had an all-nighter to look forward to if I was going to finish those chapters.
"Gotta pay the bills," I said as I made my way upstairs.
When I stepped into my room, I noticed something on the bed. A closer inspection revealed Micah's Batman t-shirt and matching boxer-briefs, the same outfit he'd worn yesterday and slept in all last night. My boy had folded them, and laid them in a nice, tidy pile on my side of the bed. I could now see the real reason for the 'forgotten' skateboard.
I felt it was best to ignore the soiled undies for now (there'd be plenty of time to enjoy them later), so I picked up the tee, held it to my nose, and breathed in deep. The essence of Punky – part pineapple, part musk, part feral lust, all boy – filled my nostrils and I couldn't help but smile. He'd left this here on purpose, knowing I'd need a little piece of him to hold onto until the next time we could be together. His simple gift was proof that he wanted there to be a next time.
And there would be. There'd be plenty of next times.
We were going to be together somehow. Some way.
As my grandmother used to say, "God willing and the creek don't rise."
After one more intoxicating whiff, I picked up the boxer-briefs and placed them, along with the shirt, on the nightstand. After stripping the bed, I made my way downstairs to the laundry room with a renewed sense of hope and happiness
Everything was going to be okay.
—February 24, 2014 - February 21, 2015
Is this the end? It is for now. Micah and Simon have been my life for the last year and it's time to put them aside for a little while. It's always possible I'll revisit them in the future to see how they're getting on. It's also possible that Parker will get his own series of stories one day. Who knows what the future holds?
I'm sad because it's over, happy because I actually finished it, and terrified that I now have to come up with another story to tell.
Drop me a line at firstname.lastname@example.org and let me know your thoughts on the final chapter.
To the readers — Whether you read every single word, or just skipped to the juicy parts, I hope you enjoyed the ride. I'm honored you decided to spend a little time with my story.
To those who offered feedback — Your kind words kept me going and gave me the strength to press on.
To Johan — The first person to call himself a fan.
To Matthew — The first person to offer editing services and then, via his red pen-o-doom, saw it through to the very end.
To Keith — Seventeen years, that's why. :)
To Mark — Someone has to tell me about all those places I'll never go.
To Alex — Whose reaction to the first chapter alone was enough to make me think I might actually be good at this writing thing.
To Parker — For talking me off a ledge.
To Rheiner — Have I mentioned you're awesome?
To Tony (Gerald!) — Becauth he'th the only one who'll underthtand what thith meanth. Thankth for the friendthip and advith over the latht year.
Finally, to the real Micah & Parker — The two beautiful boys who inspired it all, but still couldn't pick me out of a line-up. Thank goodness they don't have to. ;)