Date: Sat, 8 Dec 2012 14:42:06 -0500 From: Sean Williams Subject: The Nicholson Boy Chapter 4 The Nicholson Boy Chapter 4 I was sittin' in a booth at the Foxhole, the diner right outside of campus, when one of the cooks from the back came over to my booth and put his arm on my shoulder. He asked me if I was ready to order. I had been sitting there a while, debating whether or not to go to baseball practice, and I guess he wanted to check on me. The cook, who I knew from coming to the place all the time, suggested that I try the pumpkin pie, which he claimed was the meanest pumpkin pie in Tennessee. It was October 29th. I shrugged and the cook came back about half a minute later with a slice of his pumpkin pie. He had put about two cups of thick whipped cream on top, real whipped cream not the stuff from the can, and the cream looked like it would be the best part of the pie. I picked up my knife and fork and prepared to dig into the pie. I guess I had a reason not to go to practice now. I didn't wanna get a cramp during training from eating a big piece of pie right before. "That looks good, dipshit," said a familiar voice as the person it belonged to swiped a finger across the pie and picked up about half of the whipped cream even before he had fully sat down in the booth. "I hate you," I said, watching as Matheson brought his creamy finger toward his mouth. "I mean, I really hate you, man." "How can you say that?" asked Matheson. Even after he swallowed the cream, Matheson still had a full dab of it sitting on his full red lips. "I mean, I let you fuck me in the ass yesterday and I'm still sore, homey." "Dude, shut the fuck up," I whispered, turning and looking around the diner. My baseball teammate had basically announced to everyone in the Foxhole that we had fucked. Fortunately, it was late afternoon and everyone in the diner was of the hearing aid age and it looked like they all had their hearing devices off because no one even flinched when Matheson yelled that he had let me fuck him in the ass. If any of the cooks or servers heard our talk they didn't show it. "College jocks, gotta love 'em," they probably whispered to themselves. "No one cares, Allston," said Matheson. "I mean, everyone's too busy eatin' their fourth piece of pie or drinkin' their ninth coffee to care about two jocks that like to fuck each other silly." "It was one time." "There'll be others." "No," I said. "That was it. That was the last time. I have someone in my life now." "Ah," said Matheson, face assuming this clowny, sympathetic expression. "Allston has a girlfriend! That's okay, Tucker. I'm assumming your new girlfriend doesn't have a dick and balls so why would she care if you get some jock ass on the side, I mean... if she doesn't have a dick?" "She doesn't have a dick," I said. I covered my face with the hood of my sweatshirt to try and hide myself. Matheson was such an idiot. "I mean, I don't even have a girlfriend." "A handsome guy like you..." "Shut up, Brian. What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be at practice?" "Shouldn't 'you' be at practice?" Matheson put extra emphasis on the 'you'. "I'm not goin'." "That's three practices, Allston," said Matheson. "If you miss this one, the coaching staff could put you off the team." "I don't care," I said. "I don't care about the team, I mean, I like some of you guys, but I don't need to be on the team anymore. I'm goin' back to Kentucky." "Oh no," said Brian. "I knew this might happen. You impregnated your sister, didn't you?" "No," I said. "That's gross. I just don't care about school or baseball anymore. I mean, baseball is fun, but... I don't know, I feel like my life is spiralin' outta control and maybe I need to just take a break." "If you quit school that's not taking a break. That's quittin'. "Why do I need to go to school anyway? I mean, I just don't care about any of this stuff anymore. Especially not baseball." Matheson picked up his fork and reached toward my pie with it. I was already having a go at it and we sat there eating the pie together. A couple of minutes later the cook came back with a whole pumpkin pie just for us, covered in whipped cream, which he set down in the center of the table and we ate that together, too. It was kinda cool. "I wish you would just tell me what happened between you and Gunn," said Brian. He didn't look at me, but just kept chippin' away at the pie. "I'm not a complete idiot. I know something happened." "Um..." I stuttered. "Nothin' really happened. We just, um, it was weird." "Is Gunn the reason why you don't wanna go to practice?" I didn't said anything but concentrated on the pie and the cream. Me and Brian had to lick our lips so many times because of that damned delicious whipped cream. "Well, you don't have to worry about Gunn because he won't be coming to practice for the next two weeks." "What?" I asked. "Why?" "It turns out that Gunn got into a bar fight or somethin' and he has a concussion. Coach Lawrence sidelined him and told him to stay his ass home. He's gonna be out for at least two weeks. Where does Gunn live anyway?" "Um... he lives in Laurelton, like ten miles east of campus, in this big house with fancy flowers in front. You would never think someone like Gunn would live in a nice house like that." "Oh, got it," said Matheson, like he was filing that information away. "But if Gunn is the reason that you won't go to practice, you don't have to worry about him because dickface won't be there." Brian stood up from the table and patted his stomach as if to encourage the food to digest. We had made short work of the pie: the best pumpkin pie in Tennessee. "So, let's go, Tucker," Matheson said. "We're going to practice, dipshit! We're gonna be like half an hour late but I don't want your ass kicked off the team. I haven't even talked you into letting me fuck you yet and man that ass looks sweet! We'll just tell Coach Lawrence that uh...." "That you sucked my dick and swallowed my cum?" "No, that um... that I had to change a flat on my car or somethin'." We went to practice and the coaches didn't care that we were late because they had begun practice with a meeting about the importance of integrity in athletics. Coach Lawrence told us that he had seen Coach Gunn during his stay at the hospital and that he was in bad shape, but that he was going to be alright. My heart was beating a mile a minute thinking about what else Gunn might have told the head coach, but the coach never looked at me so I thought it was safe to assume that I had not come up at all. Part of me was wondering about just how hard I had hit Gunn with the bottle when he tried to fuck me against my will, but by no means did I hope that dude was alright. I think he got what he deserved. I mean, at least he was still alive. Frank Nicholson was dead. After practice, I took a shower and debated jerking off in a hidden corner of the lockerroom afterward, but I figured I would do that when I got home. I took a long shower so by the time I was ready to leave the athletic team gym, pretty much everyone else on the team was gone. It was dark and I began the long walk back home when I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Did you really think that you could get rid of me that easily?" I heard a voice ask. "No, not really," I said. "I know that you are pretty much impossible to shake." "Dude, I'm so hungry," said Matheson. "Do you wanna go back to the Foxhole and get another pumpkin pie?" "Man, I'm so tired of hearing about Halloween, pumpkins, and costumes. It's bad enough that I'm stuck wearin' a Flash Gordon costume. If one more person says another word about any of that stuff to me I think I might just lose it and take someone out." "With your bare hands?" "With my bare hands." "Alright, so I won't mention Halloween, pumpkins, or Flash Gordon. We don't have to do anything. We could just hang out at your place." "You really should go home and study, Brian. You're like extremely close to flunking physics." "All the more reason for me to go to your place since I lost my physics book, dipshit. I don't know where the fuck I left it." So Matheson and me headed back to my place. We studded physics for maybe five minutes when Matheson, obviously bored, walked over to the telephone and started ordering a pizza from the local joint right down the slope. He didn't even ask me if he could use my phone or if he could order pizza, which was kinda irrititaing since I knew that Brian probably didn't have any money and I would be stuck payin' for it. He ordered a triple heartstopper catch-of-the-day pizza with extra herrings and it sounded so delicious that not only was I not mad anymore but soon I couldn't concentrate on studying either. "I hope the pizza boy is cute," said Matheson. "I mean fuckable or whatever." "Wow, Brian, I'm seeing a totally different side of you. You're like significantly gayer that Doctor Octopus or Flash Gordon." "Naw, it's just that I'm horny as fuck and I don't think you're ready to let me fuck you yet so..." "Yeah, you're never gonna fuck me Brian so just get that idea out of that pretty little head of yours." As I was getting to know Brian Matheson I started to see him differently. He was always a good-looking guy: the big jock on campus with a chest, big arms, big ass. But that also came with a big mouth and I found him kinda annoying. But, I don't know, somethin' changed and if I didn't think about it too much I had to acknowledge that he was a pretty hot guy. "That's what I figured," Matheson said about my comment that he was never gonna fuck me. "Hey, Allston, wouldn't it be fun if we were wearin' just our jocks when the pizza boy arrived." "No, that sounds ridiculous." "No, it doesn't," said Matheson. "If the pizza boy is hot, he'll wanna fuck and if he's not hot then he'll get scared, drop the pizzas, and run away without picking up the money!" "What prison did you escape from, Matheson? That idea is so sick that it's..." "Brilliant?" "Brilliant!" So, fast forward twenty minutes, and Matheson and me were sitting on my bed wearing just our jocks. Matheson had left his jock in his locker at the gym so he had to wear one of mine. I sat and watched as Matheson stripped off all of his clothes until he was butt ass naked. Man, did this guy have an incredible ass. Not only was his ass large, muscular, and round, but it had just the right smattering of dark hair on it to make it seem even more masculine. The short hair on Brian's ass made you curious to see the hole. I had already seen Matheson's hole, since I had fucked him already, and I knew that it was tight and pink. He had obviously been a virgin before I came along. So now Brian was standing in front of me in one of tight dirty jocks which were at least one size too small for him. The fabric hugged his waste and cupped his ass, making it seem even more prominent. When Matheson wasn't looking, I rubbed my dick through the fabric of my jock. Damn, Matheson was lookin'' mighty fine! And that's when we heard a knock at the door. "I'll get it," said Matheson, jumping up from the bed. The star pitcher for the baseball team ran to the door and pulled it open. "Hey, dude!' he said to the pizza boy that stood on the other side. "Um... hey," said the pizza boy. "Um... I'm here to... um..." "Deliver the pizzas?" "I'm here to... um.... to um... eat the.... I mean deliver the.... hot damn...." and the pizza boy could not draw his eyes away from Matheson's meaty pecs, also covered in hair, and pink juicy nipples just beggin' to be sucked on by someone hungry for jock sweat. It was kinda hot in my room so sure enough, Brian had some sweat droplets hangin' down from his nipples. The pizza boy, at a loss as regards what to do, dropped the pizzas and turned as if about to run. "Don't let him run, Tucker, he's hot!" said Brian. "I miscalculated!" I ran to the door and grabbed on to the pizza boy by the collar. "Um... what's your name, man? Do you wanna split this triple heartstopper catch-of-the-day pizza with us? We're not the hungry." "I'm Derek," said the pizzaboy. "Why're you two guys wearin' jocks?" "We're on the baseball team," said Brian with a shrug. "And can't you feel how how it is in here, man?" I asked. "Whoo-heee! it feels like the eighth ring of hell in here!" "Yeah, so you wanna suck our cocks?" asked Matheson. "What?" I asked. "Wait, Matheson." "Sure," said the pizzaboy. He turned his pizza boy cap backwards and dropped to his knees. Before I knew it, a hand had reached up to the waistband of my jock and was pullin' it down! [TO BE CONTINUED]