This
story
concerns adult and teenage gay
males who may be involved in sexual situations. If it is illegal for
you to
read such stories, or if you do not like to read such stories, please
leave
now.
This
story is
copyright 2006 by the author who retains all rights.
This
is a work
of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents
either are the product of the author's imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is
entirely coincidental.
This is my
third submission to Nifty. My
previous submissions can be found in the High School section under
Kiel’s Story. Any comments or questions are
welcome at: carl_holiday@att.net.
A warm
thank you goes out to all who
write. I appreciate knowing someone is actually reading this stuff,
whether you
like it or not. I try to answer all emails, even flames. (I’m a writer,
I live
for rejection.) Although sometimes it takes a little time to get back
to
you, I do
try to answer. If I'm remiss in replying to yours, I apologize.
The Pastel Cowboy
by Carl Holiday
Chapter
15 – A Crazy Sunday
Zach was awake, but
didn’t
want to open his eyes. He was tired, too tired to move, too tired to
get up,
too tired to respond to Bruce’s soft caress along his bare thigh, but
he wasn’t
too tired not to answer the morning call of a full bladder. He was
hard, but
didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything other than his deteriorating
mental
state. That he cared about a great deal. He was almost certain he
needed to go
somewhere, maybe a psychiatric hospital or ward, and get drugged into
normalcy
under professional supervision. The little white pills were great, but
they did
little to stop him from getting the episodes, they only cured an
episode once
it started.
He was confused,
too. He
couldn’t figure out where, or why, everything in his life had gone so
horribly
wrong. Where in his life had he made such a big mistake that he had to
end up
on the edge of a precipice with very few choices left. Give him a
little bad
news about someone he knew then wham he was falling. In some ways,
going away
didn’t sound like such a bad idea. Steven went away. Uncle David tried
to go
away. One of those little pills made him groggy. Two pills put him
asleep. What
would three, four, five, or the rest of the bottle do? He was certain
the glass
of water was still there. All he had to do was open his eyes and make
that
final choice to fall away.
He opened his eyes
and stared
at the ceiling, a ceiling he wasn’t going to be staring at ever again.
He was
in a word, pathetic. One big screwup after another and look where it
had got
him, he was nothing more than a pathetic excuse for a happy, excited
teen on
his way to bigger and better things.
The world would be
a better
place without him.
Only, Jeremy was
going to cry
for him. Jeremy was going to be devastated. Jeremy loved him, right?
Or, was he
only a passing fancy of some over rich, spoiled little boy who grew up
physically, but was still only a little boy with a toy that was broken
so bad
no one was going to be able to fix it. It might take Jeremy a day or
two to get
over him.
The whole bottle,
that was
the only choice, now.
But, he needed to
piss, bad.
And, Bruce was
still
caressing his thigh.
He was hard, too.
One last orgasm,
that was
another choice. Maybe he could convince Bruce to fuck him one last time.
Then he could call
Jeremy and
tell him he should find another boyfriend, so he wouldn’t cry for him.
But, he needed to
piss.
He looked over to
his side,
but Bruce wasn’t there. He looked up and saw Paul smiling at him.
“Mornin’ kiddo,
how’s my boy
today?” Paul said as he patted Zach’s thigh.
Zach shut his eyes
and tried
to remember what he was supposed to do. He opened them for a moment and
looked
at the nightstand. The glass of water was gone. The pill bottle wasn’t
there,
either.
“Excuse me, got to
pee,” Zach
said as he rolled out of bed. He stood up and immediately realized that
was his
first incorrect choice of the new day. His eyes were fuzzy and his head
became
weightless as if nothing was supporting it. He sat back down and hung
his head
between his knees.
“A bit dizzy?” Paul
asked.
“A bit. Where’s
Bruce?”
“Fixing breakfast,
I think he
might be better than me.”
“Is that good?”
Zach looked
up briefly then sat back up. He wasn’t hard anymore, but the pain
coming from
his bladder told him he’d better do something soon or signals were
going to get
mixed up and he might need to do something else. “Excuse me, got to
pee.”
When he came back,
Paul was
still sitting on the bed. He sat down next to him. Paul put his arm
across
Zach’s shoulders and he leaned into the offered comfort. He needed his
life to
be in order and didn’t know how to put all the pieces right, but at
that moment
he didn’t really care.
“I want you to know
I was thinking
of leaving,” Zach said cautiously. He thought of the admission after he
said
it. Was he really, honestly thinking of going away? Could he do that?
It seemed
like such a long time ago. A choice not made and the world suddenly
becomes a
different place.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I think I
might need
to take Doctor Cunningham up with her offer to drug me senseless for a
time.
I’m thinking crazy thoughts about how nice everything might be if I
wasn’t
around to screwup so much.”
“Oh?”
“I’m sorry I made
things so
bad Uncle David had to decide to leave, too. Do you think he’ll ever
forgive me?”
“Wait, stop right
there,”
Paul said as he pushed Zach away from him. They stared at each other
for a
moment.
Zach felt a tear
dribble down
his cheek and he looked down at the floor. He was so pathetic it was a
wonder
people allowed him to fuck up their lives. He felt Paul pull him into a
hug, a
very tight hug, kind of like his mother used to do when his life took a
horrible turn and no one liked him, before she heard he was gay and was
an
abomination unto the Lord. Abominations didn’t get hugs.
Zach wasn’t going
to cry.
That was for certain, but another tear dribbled down the other cheek.
“First of all it is
not your
fault David is depressed and doesn’t take his medications like he’s
supposed
to,” Paul said as he softly caressed the back of Zach’s head.
“Secondly, I
don’t want to hear anything more about you wanting to leave, whether to
some
nut farm Doctor Cunningham works at or thinking you can improve the
world by
leaving it. And, thirdly, I think you know there are a lot of people
who love
you very much and will be very put out if you should suddenly take the
wrong
exit.”
“How is he?”
“He’ll be in the
hospital for
a while, something about a thirty day observation period because he was
almost
on the wrong side of the railing. I guess the officer who saw him
practically
caused an accident by suddenly stopping and jumping out of his car.
David was
going over and the officer pulled him back. Rather forcefully, too.
David broke
his nose when his head slammed into the sidewalk.”
“Oh.”
“It’ll be alright,
kiddo,
everything is going to be okay, again.”
“I was trying to
figure out
when it was okay, but I couldn’t go back far enough. My life has been
one big
fuck up and I’m tired of it. I just want to go to sleep and not have to
worry
about anything for awhile. Is that okay?”
“Why don’t you lie
down for
awhile.”
“No, I’m hungry.”
“The stomach
defeats the
troubled mind, again,” Paul said as he released their embrace. He stood
up and
offered Zach a hand. “Do you know David used to stuff himself when he
was
really depressed? I got him out of that bad habit, but it seems he’s
found a
new way to deal with it, or, should I say, not deal with it.”
Zach allowed Paul
to help him
up and he followed him to the kitchen. Bruce was busy at the counter
and the
smell of vegetables and garlic cooking filled the room. Bruce was
wearing an
apron and nothing else.
“You really like
being naked,
don’t you?” Zach asked as he sat down at the table.
“Nude, remember?”
Bruce
asked. “Would Sunshine like a cup of coffee to get his day going?”
“Yeah, I’ll get
it,” Zach
said.
“Oh, no, I’m the
cook,” Bruce
said. “Black, right?”
“Unadulterated.”
“Always a big
word,” Bruce
said as he put the cup on the table in front of Zach.
“One thing you can
say about
Bruce is he has a great ass,” Paul said from over by the coffeemaker.
“I’m not supposed
to notice
it,” Zach said. He sipped the hot coffee and thought of how depressed
he was
only a few minutes earlier and, now, seemed much better. Or, was he? He
looked
at the coffee in the cup. “Bruce is the alpha male in our relationship.
I don’t
get to look at his ass. My concern is only with what’s up front, which
ain’t
all that bad.”
“I thought you said
the word
was airn’t?” Bruce asked as he poured an egg mixture into whatever was
in the
sauté pan.
“Tense, my dear
Bruce, tense.
Ain’t, airn’t, in’t.”
“In’t?”
“Yeah, in’t.”
“I don’t know if I
want to be
a farmer,” Bruce said as he stirred whatever it was he was cooking.
“Well, you
certainly have a
great plow, but I think we’re going to have to see if you can lay a
furrow,”
Zach said. He smiled at the thought of lying on his stomach under
Bruce. Then
he realized there might be something to keep him around for a while.
Bruce
might need some practice laying a furrow and he could help him out.
“Uh, guys, can we
talk about
something other than hot gay teen sex?” Paul asked. He sat down next to
Zach
and put an arm across the boy’s shoulders. “Feel any better?”
“Yeah, lots.”
“Did I miss
something in the
bedroom?” Bruce asked.
“No,” Zach said. He
didn’t
look up and was relieved Bruce didn’t pursue the subject. He didn’t see
what
Bruce and Paul were saying with their expressions, but was certain he
was the
subject of their silent conversation.
“Uh, I hate to ruin
everyone’s morning, but we do have a problem,” Paul said. “Sally, you
know
Zach, your cousin, David’s daughter?”
“Oh, yeah, Sally,”
Zach said
as he tried to think back to the few times the Brandon’s came down to
Oklahoma to visit their families and they stopped at
the ranch
for a few hours. They never seemed to stay long. Never for supper.
Sally was
years old than he was. Dickie, her brother, was an asshole. Of course,
with a
name like Dickie you’d have to be an asshole or a pushover. Dickie was
an
asshole. He liked Sally, though, because she seemed interested in him,
even
though he was just a little kid. They stopped coming when he was about
ten.
“You know, kiddo,
she told me
about the time you fell on your ass in some cow shit,” Paul said. He
ruffled
Zach’s hair.
“Yeah, I was always
falling
on my ass, or face, in cow shit, pig shit, horse shit, or just plain
ol’ pissy
mud. Then I figured out how not to do it and could throw a football in
any ol’
muddy field and became the greatest quarterback Carruthers High ever
had. Fuck
them assholes for fucking with my life.”
“Come on, kiddo,
calm down,”
Paul said as he rubbed Zach’s neck.
“Is there something
I should
know?” Bruce asked.
“No,” Zach said. He
stared at
the sauté pan this time, knowing the other two were looking at
each other
comparing notes with their eyes.
“Anyway, Sally and
I were
talking about what David is going to need in the next few months,” Paul
said,
“and, well, Zach, you’re going to have to move out, but before you zone
out on
us, I have the perfect solution. I still have my apartment over on
Capitol
Hill. It’s not as nice as this place, but I live frugally to begin
with. And,
Bruce and I were talking this morning, before you even thought of
waking up,
and he said he needs to find a place to live, too. So, I figured the
two of you
can move into my place.”
“And, this is the
master
bedroom,” Paul said as he opened the curtained French doors with a
flourish.
“Wow! Look at all
the
mirrors,” Bruce said. He walked in and turned around and around looking
at
himself in the mirrored closet doors, dresser, and master bath door.
Then he
flopped down on the bed and stared up at himself in the mirrored
ceiling. “It’s
just like the whorehouses in the movies.”
“Well, not
exactly,” Paul
said.
“Yeah, but look at
these
paintings,” Zach said. “These definitely aren’t Indians and wildlife in
the
paintings in the other rooms. Jeez, these will certainly get you in the
mood,
but Paul, there aren’t any dicks showing.”
“Let’s your
imagination
wonder what’s going on,” Paul said. He went over to the bed and sat
down beside
Bruce. He lightly patted the boy’s thigh. “This is my room.
This isn’t a
party room. This isn’t a room where your guests can do whatever on the
bed
while watching themselves in the mirrors. This is my room.
Understand?”
“Uh, yeah,” Bruce
said. He
looked over at Zach, who only shrugged.
Zach looked at both
of them,
but mostly at how Paul was focusing on Bruce. Paul was definitely
directing all
of his attention at Bruce. He smiled and saw the two of them on that
bed
sometime in the future, naked and doing naked things to each other.
Yeah,
they’d be naked. Just like Bruce said. Not nude, no naked; and, they’d
probably
ask him to bring them some orange juice afterwards and he would, but
he’d have
clothes on.
“Mission Control to
Zach,
Mission Control to Zach, are you there, boy?”
Zach stared at the
painting
over the headboard. It was Miles, Frannys father who he met on the trip
down to
Texas. He’d been a little younger than Bruce at
the time of
the painting. His feet were planted just like someone who’d finally
gotten use
to walking in cow shit and pissy mud. The glutes were taut and high up
between
the thighs just a hint of scrotum was showing. It was the eyes, though,
that
pulled you in. He wanted you right behind him. He was inviting you to
stick
your hard dick right up his ass. Everything about the painting said,
“Fuck me,
now!”
“Mission Control to
Zach,
Mission Control to Zach, are you there, boy?”
Zach looked back at
the bed
and Paul had an arm draped over Bruce’s shoulders, not in a comforting
way, but
more in a possessive manner. Yeah, they’d be naked; and, it wouldn’t
surprise
him at all if it was Bruce on top.
“He does that so
well,” Paul
said. “You’re going to have one hell of a time with him living here.
You’ll
have to keep bumping him to make sure he’s alive.”
“Are you talking
about me?”
Zach asked.
“Well, we were
discussing how
we’re going to arrange this,” Bruce said. “To make it legal and all.
Paul is
going to have his lawyer draw up some papers for us to sign and I’ll be
the
primary lessee. We don’t know what to call you, though.”
“I’ve always
answered to
Zach, but Dad always called me Hey Dumbfuck. I’ll come to whatever.”
“If you’re with us,
that is,”
Paul said. “Why don’t you come over and sit down?”
“No, I think you
two have the
bed pretty full right now. I’m going out to the living room.”
Zach turned and
walked toward
the door where he stopped for a moment to look back at the bed. Paul
and Bruce
were sitting there staring at him. Paul had one hand caressing Bruce’s
neck and
the other hand resting on a thigh up close to where there was just the
hint of
a hard-on in Bruce’s khakis. He turned and pulled both doors closed.
Across the hall
from the
master bedroom was a painting of a Choctaw boy Zach thought he
recognized. He
looked at the signature and saw “Paul Griffin ’87.” That was only a
year after
he was born. He stared at the face. It was so familiar. His mind
searched
through image after image of all the people he’d met or seen or ran
into until
he realized the boy was Nick Zucker, Billy’s oldest brother, who was
fifteen
when he was born. Billy had been a mistake, but Billy was Choctaw.
Zach turned to open
the
bedroom doors to ask Paul about the painting, but thought better of it.
Paul
and Bruce were probably very close to being naked and he didn’t want to
interrupt. Paul would go very, very slow, encouraging Bruce, but not
pushing
him. It would be a subtle seduction and Bruce would be very, very happy
and more
than satisfied afterwards.
Zach walked out
into the
living room and looked at the view with the Space Needle and the
Olympic Mountains in the distance. He’d never been up there,
yet.
Steven had said he’d take him, but they never got around to it, being
too busy
having sex all the time. He imagined it would be quite a place to fall
from. No
question about living after a fall from that height.
The apartment was
already
warm, there wasn’t any air conditioning. Paul said to keep the drapes
closed
during the day to keep out most of the heat, then after the sun went
down, open
the windows and you’d get good cross ventilation.
He took out his
cell and sat
on the sofa. Looking through his call history he found the number he
was
looking for and pressed talk. After a few rings a man’s voice said,
“Hello?”
“Mr. McDonald, it’s
Zach
Alexander.”
“How’re you doing,
boy?”
“Okay, sir.”
“Bud.”
“Okay, uh, Bud.
But, I’m only
saying that because you insist. I wasn’t raised to be personable with
my
seniors.”
“Okay, son, I’ll
accept that.
What can I do for you?”
“Can I call Jeremy
and talk
to him?”
“Why haven’t you
already?”
“Well, because he’s
on
restriction.”
“Ah, yes, well,
Jeremy has
been a very foul mouthed, naughty little boy lately, and with Sara
sneaking him
out, it hasn’t helped his situation, but I never said you two couldn’t
talk to
each other.”
“But, I thought,
well, Jeremy
said, that, well.”
“We had an argument
and,
well, I said some things that shouldn’t have been said and I apologize
if those
words were conveyed to you. I had a long talk with your uncle and I may
have
had some erroneous information about you that created some incorrect
opinions.”
“Okay, sir, uh,
Bud, apology
accepted, but I was a lot of those things you said about me and I know
it was
wrong for me to act the way I did, if you know what I mean.”
“Apology accepted
and you
have my permission to talk to Jeremy whenever you want, but you two
will not be
seeing each other until a week after Jeremy’s school starts. Is that
clear?”
“Sir, I have not
encouraged
Jeremy to see me. In fact, I was the one who saw Sara’s car yesterday.
I was
going to call, but Uncle David said he’d do it.”
“Ah, I guess you do
have a
good head on your shoulders. So, like I said you can call him whenever
you want
and when you get together, maybe you can help him with his drivers
test. He
still hasn’t passed the written exam.”
“Maybe he’s not
supposed to
get a drivers license.”
“Well, I’m not
chauffeuring
him all over town.”
“Get him a bicycle.”
“You know, Zach, I
really
should get to know you better. You sound like you’d make a good parent.
You
know, I do have a granddaughter.”
“Yes, sir, she once
mentioned
I’d be good for her, but I’m not certain I can play on her side of the
street,
if you know what I mean.”
“Yes, well, I’ve
got to go,
it’s been nice talking to you Zach. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, Bud.”
Zach leaned back on
the sofa
and wondered if he should call Jeremy. The other two were still in the
bedroom.
He wondered if they were naked, yet. He could walk in on them, sort of
unexpectedly, sort of, “oh, excuse me, I didn’t expect you to be
naked.” He
stood up and started to close the drapes.
Zach’s help was
definitely
needed in moving most of his stuff to the new apartment. For reasons
unexplained, Paul wanted Zach out of the apartment that day, so
everyone pitched
in. They left Zach at the apartment while Paul took Bruce home to get
his
stuff. When they returned, Zach helped them move everything up to the
apartment
and then Paul took Bruce grocery shopping, leaving Zach to do whatever
at the
apartment. They just didn’t trust him not to zone out on them; or,
worse, be
confronted with a serious decision, like whether he wanted canned or
dry pinto
beans or if he’d rather have red beans, and completely zap out and need
a
little white pill.
He sulked mostly.
He thought
of calling Jeremy, but since hadn’t since talking to Bud earlier, he
saw no
reason to hurry. It wasn’t as if he was going to actually kill himself
that
day. That moment had passed and he was no longer in the mood. Paul said
people
loved him, well, he had to admit that was possible. Paul liked him.
Bruce liked
him. Jeremy probably still liked him. He wasn’t certain of Sara,
though, since
he got her in trouble. Uncle David probably didn’t like him either for
causing
him to try to jump off the bridge. Bud said he liked him, but Zach
didn’t
believe him. Steven liked him, but Steven was dead and that didn’t
count
anymore.
After awhile, he
simply zoned
out on himself. He was in the apartment one minute and then in some
sort of
dreamland. At first he was aware that he was, physically, still in the
apartment, but then as events began to unfold, he was no longer certain
where
he was. People were there he didn’t recognize and he wasn’t exactly
certain
where he was. The grass, which covered all the land, was yellowed from
frost,
but it wasn’t cold, almost balmy, he thought. A woman with a permanent
smile,
huge flabby breasts with nipples that poked through the fabric of her
denim
blouse, and smoker’s breath offered him a drink. It was purple, but he
knew it
wasn’t grape or some kind of berry juice. He tried to decline, but she
kept
offering as if he had to take it.
“Hey, kiddo, why
don’t you go
down and help with the groceries?” Paul asked.
Zach looked up at
him. He’d
heard every word. The woman, whose name was Veronica—Zach didn’t know
how he
knew her name because she hadn’t told him—was gone. The dreamland place
was
gone. He was still in the apartment.
“Zach? Are you
okay?” Paul
asked. He jostled the boy’s knee and waited for a response.
“Uh, yeah, you guys
were gone
an awful long time,” Zach said. “You need my help, sure I can do that.”
“Are you sure
you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I kind of
did to
myself that time. Wow, that was weird. Ever have a dream where you
didn’t
recognize anyone or where you were?”
“No, can’t say that
I have.”
“Thought so.”
“Oh?”
“Must have been a
crazy
person’s dream.”
“You’re not crazy.
I don’t
want that kind of talk coming from your mouth, do you hear?”
“Sure, I heard you,
but I
don’t think the crazy person inside was listening. He doesn’t seem to
listen to
anything. Come on, let’s go help Bruce.”
Zach followed Paul
and
watched every step he made. For some reason, he couldn’t explain, he
suddenly
felt clumsy as if the slightest imperfection in the floor might trip
him and
send him flying. Once down to the street, Zach looked at the sidewalk
and knew
he couldn’t go out there. Paul walked out the door and Zach watched it
close
between them. He turned his back to the wall and lowered himself onto
his
haunches. He kept running witty explanations through his mind for not
going out
to the car. He tried to smile. He forced himself to smile.
Bruce came in with
four
plastic bags hanging from each hand and stopped in front of Zach.
“Do you want me to
take
those?” Zach asked.
“That would be
nice,” Bruce
said. “Are you okay?”
“No. I’ll tell you
about it
later.”
“Sure.”
When Zach got back
downstairs, Paul and Bruce were standing at the elevator door when it
opened.
They were overloaded with plastic bags of groceries. Without saying a
word,
Zach reached in and took about four bags of each of them. They still
had almost
too many to manage, but Zach was having enough trouble with the few he
had.
“Are you going to
push the
eight button?” Paul asked.
“Oh, sorry, I
forgot,” Zach
said.
“Are you going to
snap out of
that soon or do I need to do something about it?”
“What can you do?”
Zach asked.
“You don’t even
want to try
me,” Paul said.
“Oh, okay,” Zach
said. The
doors opened and he followed them out watching where he put each foot
before
moving the next one forward. The going was slow, but he had to be
careful.
“What?” Zach asked
when he
noticed Paul and Bruce watching him.
“What are you
doing?” Bruce
asked.
“I don’t know, I
just have to
be careful or I’ll trip.”
“Bullshit!” Paul
yelled. “I
told you to quit fucking around. You can beat this thing or it’ll take
over and
you’ll end up like David, or worse, like Steven. Now, get your act
together or
I’m calling Doctor Cunningham and have her send the men with the
jacket.”
Zach looked at him
and swallowed.
Then he stepped forward and stopped. He shut his eyes and began
counting. When
he reached thirty he opened his eyes and saw he was alone in the
hallway. It
was do or die, take the torch and run for it, or give in to whatever it
was
that was trying to take over. He took in a deep breath and exhaled
slowly. Then
he walked to the door of the apartment. It was ajar and he nudged it
with his
foot. Paul and Bruce were in the kitchen sitting at the dinette. All of
their
bags had been emptied and put away. They were drinking what looked like
beer
from bottles.
“Well, we were
beginning to
wonder if you were going to join us,” Paul said. “Cold things in the
refrigerator or freezer.”
“Put the other
stuff on the
counter and I’ll put it away later,” Bruce said. “Have a seat and I’ll
get you
an ale.”
“Can’t drink
because of the
medicine,” Zach said. “It’ll make me loopy.”
“You’re loopy
already,” Paul
said. “Do you have any idea how long you were out in the hall?”
“Maybe a minute, I
just
counted to thirty.”
“Make that thirty
minutes.”
“Oh, fuck, I’m
getting
worse.”
“No, you’re not.
You’re not
getting worse. First of all, stop shutting your eyes and doing that
counting
shit. You were doing great until David got you started doing mental
exercises.
Maybe a little crazy, but not crazy like this. So stop it, now!”
“Okay, you don’t
have to
yell. What is this stuff? It sure isn’t beer.”
“It’s a brown ale,”
Bruce
said.
“Look at the
label,” Paul
said. “Figure things out for yourself.”
“Don’t talk like my
father,”
Zach said. “Moose Drool? That sounds absolutely hideous.”
“Did you try it?”
Bruce
asked.
“No.” Zach took a
sip. Then
knocked back a good swallow. “Hey, this isn’t bad at all.”
“Well, boys, I
guess I’d
better get going,” Paul said as he stood up. “I called your friend Sara
and
gave her directions. She said she’ll pick you two up at seven-fifteen,
so be
ready. Bruce, why don’t you walk me to the door?”
Zach watched them
leave and
stood up. He walked to the archway to the living room and peeked around
the corner.
Paul and Bruce were kissing. He turned and returned to his chair. He
suspected
that would happen, after all they’d had sex earlier. He was certain
that
happened.
Interestingly, Zach
felt
disinterested in this fact. It certainly made things easier for him,
not having
to worry about Bruce falling in love with him; and, with Bud giving him
the go
ahead to continue seeing Jeremy, he didn’t have to worry about Bruce
taking a
liking to his boyfriend. The only problem he could see, and it didn’t
affect
him in the least, was that Bruce was probably headed for a serious case
of
heartache when Paul dumped him. Paul was famous for his track record of
dumped
boyfriends.
“Well, he’s gone,”
Bruce
sighed when he walked into the kitchen.
“I saw you,” Zach
said.
Bruce turned and
stared at
him.
“I don’t have a
problem with
you seeing Paul.”
“He’s going to
paint me and
you, too. He said he’ll make thousands more using two nudes.”
“That’s nice,” Zach
said.
“You have a problem
with
this, don’t you?”
“No, I said I
didn’t.”
“But, you do.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“And, don’t zone
out on me.
Let’s talk about this, now. Are we going to have sex?”
“Well, we’re
sleeping in the
same bed. It’s a queen size, but I suspect we’ll meet in the middle now
and
then. I suppose we’ll end up touching and then, well, you know what
happens
next. Will Paul mind if we’re having sex?”
“Will Jeremy mind?”
“Okay, Jeremy won’t
understand and I’ll have to explain things so that he’ll grudgingly
give some
sort of permission.”
“What kind of sex
did you
have in mind?” Bruce asked. He sat down across the table from Zach.
“How many
times do I have to fuck you? Do we suck each other at night before we
go to
sleep, or in the morning before we piss away our hard-ons? Or, do you
just want
to sit in the living room watching porn and jacking off? What do you
want from
me? You’re the one with the insatiable sex drive.”
“Well, you’re the
one who’ll
be walking around without any clothes. What do you want? And, besides,
what
were you and Paul doing in the bedroom earlier today. Did he fuck you?”
“No, he didn’t do
that to
me.”
“Did you suck him?”
“No, I didn’t do
that to him.
I don’t think he came at all.”
“How many times did
you
come?”
“Twice in his
mouth. Quick
the first time and slow the second.”
“You know, he’s
over twenty
years older than you. He’s old enough to be your father.”
“Twenty-six.”
“Twenty-six what?”
“Twenty-six years
older and
he doesn’t want anything permanent. Just fooling around, like what
we’re going
to be doing. Just fooling around.”
“So, you’ll be
doing Paul,
and both of us will be doing you?”
“He said he’d like
to do you,
too. I won’t let him fuck me, but he knows you like a dick up your ass
and
since Jeremy isn’t fucking you, he thought maybe you’d like a more
experienced
dick.”
“Did he ask you to
ask me?”
“No, we just talked
about
you. Mostly, about what’s going on with you. Are you hungry?”
“Let’s order a
pizza.”
“I can make one.”
“No, I want
unhealthy,
greasy, takeout. There’s a place up on Pine, we could walk up there.”
“Do they deliver?”
“I suppose.”
“Call them, I like
mushrooms
and onions and Canadian bacon. I don’t like anchovies, black olives, or
sun
dried tomatoes.”
“Hey, I’m the
simple country
boy from Oklahoma, remember? We had three choices, cheese,
pepperoni
and sausage, and pepperoni, sausage, onions and red and green peppers;
and, it
came in a box and you heated it at home.”
“No real pizza?”
“Well, sure if you
drove the
twenty miles into Hannaford you could go to a Pizza Hut, but even there
they
were out of half the stuff. You know, when mountain oysters and
scrambled calves
brains are on the menu, you don’t get a lot of orders for Hawaiian
pizzas.”
“Mountain oysters? What are they, some kind of shellfish?”
“No, testicles. In
the spring
when you and all the farmers around you are castrating calves, you end
up with
a lot of nuts on the table.”
“Ew! You’ve eaten
testicles?”
“No, actually, I
haven’t.
Sounded too disgusting to me and Mom wouldn’t cook them anyway. Dad had
to go
down to the Cattlemen’s Association barbecue to get that stuff. I
didn’t eat
brains, either, or chitlins, or kidneys, livers, or hearts. I don’t eat
by-products.
If it’s on a pet food label, it in’t goin’ in this puppy’s tummy.”
“You know, Zach,
you’re
actually beaming. You look happier right now than you have all weekend.
Almost
makes me want to come over there and kiss you and do nasty, vile things
to your
young body.”
“What’d you have in
mind?”
“Oh, I don’t know,
you said I
needed practice laying a furrow with my plow.”
“And, then we could
have
grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Zach woke up early.
Bruce’s
hard cock was sandwiched between his butt cheeks and he must have been
having a
wet dream because the cock was giving mini-thrusts along his crack.
Zach
imagined how easy it would be to move slightly up to allow the tip to
slip
inside, but he didn’t want that. That was last night. What he wanted
was a
shower, shave, a light breakfast, and maybe, just maybe, he’d suck
Bruce’s cock
before brushing his teeth. That sounded like such a good idea, he
quietly
rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Bruce moaned slightly
and then
rolled onto his back.
He felt renewed, as
if
getting out of the condo had changed him somehow for the better. He
couldn’t
put a finger on exactly how he felt, but he knew he wasn’t going to
need those
little white pills any longer.
He’d dreamt the
night before,
but all his dreams were about Jeremy. Bruce was in one of them, a
strange
little interlude between two heavy sex scenarios. Jeremy was fucking
him and
Bruce was fucking Jeremy. Afterwards, when everyone had shot gobs and
gobs of cum—it
never ceased to amaze Zach at the copious quantities of cum he could
produce in
a dream—Jeremy turned and touched Bruce on the chest and he
disappeared. Zach
remembered feeling a loss, as if a friend had gone away and was never
to be
seen again. Then he and Jeremy went at it again and all was forgotten
and
forgiven.
Zach looked down at
his lathered
erection and gave it a few tugs and thought of Jeremy as he shot thick
ropes of
cum onto the glass door of the shower. He opened his eyes and saw Bruce
looking
at him. They smiled and Zach made room for Bruce in the shower.
“Good morning,”
Bruce said.
“Sleep well?”
“Yes, very well,
thank you,”
Zach said. “Turn around and I’ll wash your back.”
“Which is probably
the only
time you’ll get that close to it,” Bruce said.
“Oh, I don’t know,
you’d be
surprised what I can do if I put my mind to it.”
“Sounds like
someone did have
a good night. God, Zach, what are you doing down there. Is that your
tongue?”
Yes, thought Zach,
this is my
tongue and I’m licking your hole. In a minute, or so, I’m going to put
my
tongue in your hole. I don’t want to shock you, but I like doing this.
He would’ve said
the words
out loud, but his mouth was too busy dealing with the object of its
desire. He
hoped Bruce would use his own hand to take care of the other thing
because they
didn’t have a lot of time to fool around and that’s what this was,
fooling
around. It was nothing serious, nothing that was going to make them
fall in
love, just fooling around.
“Oh, god, Zach,
stop or I’m
going to want you to, oh, god, Zach, please stop. What’re you doing?
Are you
putting your tongue in there? Oh, jeez, Zach, please don’t.”
Yes, thought Zach,
I’ve
turned a corner and today will be a good day. Bruce will have an orgasm
he won’t
forget, I will talk to Jeremy, and later tonight, well, anything could
happen.
“Zach, if you don’t
stop I’m
going to ask you to do something I don’t want.”
Yeah, thought Zach,
I’ve got
you now Mister Top, but we’re not going to do it now. We don’t have
time.
Zach sucked one of
Bruce’s
testicles in his mouth and used his tongue to massage it. After a
couple minutes,
he came out from behind and put his mouth over the hot tip of the other
boy’s
cock. It exploded in his mouth and he was satisfied. Later that night
before
they went to sleep, though Bruce didn’t know it now, he was going to
ask Zach
to fuck him. He was going to beg, plead, and make unfulfillable
promises just
to have Zach take his cherry; and, Zach was going to take it very
slowly,
patiently allowing Bruce to enjoy the experience enough to desire it
again,
maybe enough to ask Paul to fuck him. Zach wasn’t too certain he liked
the idea
of Paul sticking his forty-six year old dick up his ass. He liked
Jeremy’s
sixteen year old dick much better.
“Damn, Zach, you do
that to
my ass too many times and I’m going to beg you to do me,” Bruce said
after Zach
stood up and they’d kissed.
“I only want to
please you
because you’ve been so good to me these past few days that I think I
owe you
big time. If that means making love to you, well, I guess I’ll have to
do
that.”
“Will you be
gentle?”
“Of course, you’re
a virgin.
I don’t want to scare you off. I want you to like it as much as I do,
if that’s
possible.”
“Tonight?”
“Sounds, good, but
you know
we’d better hurry or we’ll be taking the bus to school.”
“Kiss me once
more,” Bruce
said as he rubbed one of Zach’s nipples with the tip of his forefinger.
As they
kissed he shoved his tongue down Zach’s throat, but the hot water ran
out at
that same moment throwing ice on their lust.
____________
Author’s Note:
Woof! Well, I
didn’t expect the boy’s to do that in the shower, but boys
will be boys
and you never can tell what they’re going to do given the opportunity
to do
anything. This chapter didn’t go where I wanted it to. We should be
nearly a
month forward in time, so, I guess we’ll have to do that in Chapter 16.