Date: Thu, 6 Jul 2006 23:14:12 -0700 From: blackheart Subject: A Shot of Bourbon Chp 3 Warning: The following story contains depictions of sex between two consenting teen males. It also contains scenes of reckless abuse of a Kitchen table. If you find this material questionable, or if it is against the law in your area, I suggest you read elsewhere! Now then if it is perfectly legal, and it sounds like just your cup of tea, by all means venture forth and have fun! Just remember Bourbon lives in a great place were sex isn't dangerous. If you wish to try any of the stunts below make sure to wear all safety gear. The same goes if wish to attempt ride a motorcycle. Always be smart and play safe! A Shot of Bourbon III By Blackheart Back again huh? Couldn't get enough? Or did you just stick around to watch me race? Didn't think so, and yes, there is more to tell about Rusty and I. After that second encounter, if you want to call it that, we fell asleep in each other's arms on my bed. Don't get me wrong it was wonderful I would have wanted nothing more in life at that point. I was however oblivious to certain things that became awfully clear in the months that proceeded that little tryst and the many that followed. While we slept safely wrapped in each other my parents decided to trek home from their civic duties at the shelter, and before he wanders over let me be the first to tell you. As cool and accepting of other people's privacy he may be. He doesn't care for locked doors, especially in his house. Well to make a long explanation short. I could have a lock on my door but they have a key. Don't look so shocked. Yes what you think happened did. After knocking on the door several times. He instituted his right to parental entry, and yes he saw his son wrapped in the arms of another teenage boy both naked as the day they were born. I do have to say he handled the whole scene rather well. He didn't pluck us from the loving arms of our dreams. Instead he backed out and locked the door as he found it. Rusty left somewhere in the night, I vaguely remember a kiss and a whispered `I love you,' as he slipped away beyond my reach. I should have called him a bastard leaving me to face the interrogation alone, as slipped silently out under the cover of darkness. The interrogation began the next morning over a bowl of Frosted Flakes. Dad had been strangely quiet that morning. I guess it was the reality of catching his son nude twice, I don't really know, but his silence wouldn't last for long. I sat down at the table a large bowl of the sweetened cereal before me. My hair was wild with pillow head; different clumps jutting out at various angles. Dad had his nose buried in the paper even though his eyes watched me. He was trying to figure the best way to broach the subject. I think he found it as I ladled a rather large spoonful of flakes into my ravenous pit. Dad folded his paper and laid it on the table in front of him. "How long?" he asked rather bluntly causing the shovel full of corn flakes to stick in my throat. "How long?" I repeated dumbly. "How long have you known, how long have you been sleeping with Rusty?" It's funny when life up and decides to change on you, how the simple act of enjoying your breakfast could lead to a point when all bets were off. All right so the bowl of flakes didn't lead to this point. But the game was up, the Prez's policy of don't ask don't tell no longer applied to my home life. Can I ask, how was I supposed to answer him? I did the best I knew how. A sullen shrug of my shoulders as I stared into the bowl of cereal, my appetite fled screaming into the distance. It took my stomach as a traveling partner I guess cause all I felt there was a hole. "Its alright Bourbon," dad said grabbing my shoulder. "Nothing in this world or heaven could change my love for ya boy, and that includes who you take to bed. I just want you to be safe and above all else careful." I was silently crying now, my head still down. I felt, I hate to say this, but I felt shame. Shame like maybe I had let him down, Shame for the things I'd done with Rusty, because they felt good, and feelings so good had to be bad. "Do you love him?" That question caught me off guard but I still couldn't look my dad in the eye as I nodded my head. "Then why the tears?" Again I failed to answer. "Christ kid!" he sighed as he pulled himself from his seat and in turn pulled me from mine. "You can't tell your heart who to love, if you think you can you're a fool. I don't raise fools" The words flowed from his lips as he pulled me into a hug. "So tell me how you met him," he asked as he broke the hug. "One day last June, Mom was on me to mow the lawn so I was out front," I began to tell him how I met Rusty. "It really doesn't surprise me that your mom had a hand in this no matter how far removed," his father laughed. I couldn't help but chuckle through the drying tears. "I had the bike out and was revving it just screwin' around." "Christ Bourbon that bike gets you into more trouble." Again we shared a laugh. Which was good cleansing the soul type thing I guess. The fact is his humor was helping me realize he really was ok with Rusty and I. "He came up and asked about the beast and I looked into his eyes, and well, it was over after that," I sighed. My dad nodded. "Dangerous things, eyes, they'll make you feel and do things you never would." He commented as he sat back down and lifted his paper. It was like he was done. I had confirmed what I knew he knew. The game was closed, well almost, he had received his answers but I had yet to get mine. Well seeing as the truth was being served for breakfast I figured I might as well ask my questions. "Pa?" He lowered his paper and appraised me. "How did you know?" He chuckled softly. "To be honest kid, you didn't hide it all to well. The way you looked at him was a clue, then there was the kiss you planted on him in front of God and everyone after you broke the ground." His answer brought a flush to my cheeks, partially out of embarrassment and partially because I was reliving the moment I accepted my fate and changed my world. "Of course catching you bare-assed with him twice really laid to rest any doubts I had, but the ringer was the kiss in my opinion. It definitely looked like a good one." He finished in a fit of laughter. Have you ever seen "Who Framed Roger Rabbit" or any Looney Toons? If you have you would know how much I coveted one of those ACME instant holes. As much as I wanted to crawl under a huge rock and die, my curiosity had the upper hand. "So you're not disappointed then?" It was a stupid question I know, but I had to ask it just to be sure, naive me was expecting a "why would I?" retort. Nope, that didn't happen. It was there in the back of his mind. His face changed from jovial to pained. "I'm not going to lie Bourbon, it scares me, more than I could ever tell you. If the choice was mine Id like to see you with a girl. But its not my choice, I guess it wasn't yours either. So scared? Yes but only for you. Disappointed? Only that you had to ask the question to begin with." His answer caught me off guard, which it shouldn't have but it did. Only because I often overlook what a great man he is. Well I did what any guy in my situation would have done. A great big hug. Even though the angle was a little awkward cause he was sitting down, it still felt great. "Thanks Pa." I whispered as I held him. "De nadda kiddo," My dad hugged me back. "So when do you want to go riding again?" He asked when I had finally let go of him. "I'm always ready you know that." "Next weekend?" "Can Rusty come?" "Boy, don't ask silly questions!" We shared a laugh as I cleared the bowl of soggy cereal from the table. "Oh and Bourbon," "Yeah Dad?" "Look into getting him some sunglasses. If ya'll are going to be messing around I want him wearing protection." I must have turned at least 50 shades of red at his comment, which I think made him laugh even harder then his joke did. Well the day pretty much wore on with yard work and various other chores and my dad didn't bring up the relationship again. He had said his peace on the subject and as far as he was concerned there wasn't anything else to talk about. He's a very face value guy I guess. I was glad he wasn't running out to join any parents of gay, bi and lesbian groups though. He's just not the rainbow type. Can't blame him, neither am I. That Saturday night found me in the relatively dark kitchen at Rusty's house, we had been talking in hushed voices about what happened between my dad and I earlier that morning. He was amazed it went so well. He really wasn't the only one. Enter the Mad Cow... All right so his mother isn't a cow, quite the opposite actually, a striking 40-year-old divorcee. That was the problem though. She knew she was beautiful, and she used it to further her agenda. You ever notice how the most beautiful people are also the most ugly creatures we'll ever meet? She maintained her Betty Davis looks with rather regular botox injections. A prick a day keeps the wrinkles at bay. Or something like that. By day she was a very successful prosecutor for the DA's office. By night she was very popular with assorted well-to-do bachelors in the area. Then there were the nights when no callers would ring the bell and whisk her out of her hateful large tract home. Nights like tonight where the bottle of wine didn't last nearly long enough and the five bed-roomed house's only other occupant bore her wrath. "GOD DAMMIT RUSSELL JAMES!" His mom's shrill voice filled the spacious kitchen/living room as it did his body tensed visibly. She had cleared the open space in a matter of seconds and deftly landed her hand on the backside of his head. I watched as rusty cringed with the blow and it took all I could do not to get up and lay the woman on the floor. The more her tailored pantsuit got dirty the better. I can't tell you what she was yelling about this time. Probably something to do with the half-full trash can that should be empty at all times. I know that was a hypocritical statement at best but the woman is anal... Mad Cow I tell you. Somewhere in my fantasies of beating her down with the nearest blunt object, which by the way was a silk flower centerpiece, she stormed out the room leaving Rusty and I alone again. His muscles were tensed with a healthy mix of embarrassment and anger. I can't say that I would feel any different were the situation reversed. His eyes were glued to the glass tabletop and his lap below. His nostrils flared with every breath he took. "Rusty, you ok kid?" He slowly shook his head. "No, how could I be?" His voice was dark with emotion. Perfectly fitting the near lightless room where we were sitting. What do you say to that? I hardly thought `shut the fuck up' was appropriate ya know. "I just wish I was someone else." How do I describe how those words affected me like a knife piercing the flesh of my heart? "NO" I said sternly. For the first time he looked up from the table and glanced at me, his brown eyes clouded with pain. "You know I was channel surfing the other night and happened upon Will & Grace, The second my mom realized what it was she went ballistic. Started screaming about fags on TV, about how the morals of America were going down the crapper with yesterday's lunch." He paused to fill his chest with air. "How do I tell her that I'm gay?" Christ I felt like an asshole, here were the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen, trembling with unshed tears. Yet my only concern up until that point had been myself. Denying the obvious seriousness of what he was struggling with. "A fucking cock sucker." The words drifted from his lips like a poison gas. Any thoughts came to a screeching halt so quickly I could feel myself being thrown from them. "Fuck that shit!" I yelled in a whisper, as not to attract the attention of the Mad Cow. "Fuck that label! Your life is what you make it kid, a stupid label imposed by society can't dictate your life – ever." Rusty recoiled looking at me as if I hated him and he knew it. In that moment I did, I honestly truly did. Only because he seemed so defeated, so resigned to the Machiavellian madness of his mother. And I continued to hate him for what seemed like hours; loathed for the self-pity he showered upon himself without thought to the torture it would bring to those that truly loved him. So we sat in silence at that dreadful kitchen dinette him hating himself and I right there with him. That was until the tear with quickening pace, slid down his round cheek. So maybe it wasn't him I hated. Maybe it was the emotions he was going through, the crappy situation. Sure I had an understanding father. He had the tyrannical mother. I was outgoing, where he was more reserved. But in all those shitty romance movies opposites attract, right? It honestly felt like together we made one whole. Soul mates one could say, I guess if you buy into that whole love for eternity vibe. Which brings an interesting question: What would happen if one half of the whole were reincarnated as a dog? It's my understanding that there are bestiality laws. Damn I got off track, sorry. Back to the solitary tear, the one single thing that made me see through the fog of awful pity I had for him. What's a smitten guy to do? Yes, I leaned my cute ass self across the table and kissed that lil' drop away. Hoping if all else failed, the cow would have caught it and have a heart attack. No such luck. She was probably passed out, snoring audibly to the characters of the ER rerun that played out on her bedroom television set. "I love you kid," I whispered to his cheek. "Why?" he asked. "Boy, don't ask silly questions!" I said pulling away. Can you tell my dad has a lot of influence in my life? "Besides all why wouldn't I?" I continued. "Because I'm me." "I wouldn't rather you be anyone else kid." This brought a smile to his face. The best one I had seen. Yes it was better then his after sex grin. He was in a dark place and that wonderful smile was my reward for loving him as I did. Everything else was merely a bonus. "Your eyes are gorgeous when you smile." I know, cheesy line, but I was getting horny what can I say? "That's all you like about me? My eyes?" "Kid if that's all I liked about you I'd go crazy axe murderer and cut them out. Keep them forever in a jar by my bed." I wiggled my eyebrows and smiled. He laughed, I laughed, we laughed and our laughter filled the terrible huge house that the Mad Cow built. "Shuddup" He chided as he leaned in and kissed me, the echoes of laughter bouncing off of the empty walls in the terrible house the Mad Cow built. That quick kiss, which was meant to be, stole in the dim light of the dinette mutated into a small fire. My mouth explored his he explored mine. Faster then I knew it had happened my hands had snaked their way past his zipper and were greedily stroking his length through the fabric of his boxers. "Stop," he only half-heartedly protested. "Why?" I whispered pulling my lips from his. My hand tightened its grip around the rod in his shorts. Rusty let out an involuntary growl as his hand grasped my shoulder for support as his knees weakened slightly. "We could get caught," he offered as a weak defense. "Yeah?" I pulled my hand out of his shorts, dragging his erection through his fly. He sighed in relief; thinking I had resigned myself to stopping. Right! He realized the error of his ways as I gave the palm of my hand a broad lick to moisten it. I swear the sight almost made him cream, judging by the way his eyes bulged. I shot him an evil smile as my tongue lingered on my fingertips. Tasting the pre cum that had so easily seeped through his drawers. He smiled slyly and began to shake his head. "Damn you," he chided playfully as his fingers tweaked my shirt-covered nipple. It was my turn to growl now, and growl I did as my spit-slicked hand found his erection. Slowly, I moved my hand along its length. It had the desired effect; his hands groped fistfuls of my shirt as he struggled to stay upright releasing a sigh of defeat. Damn he's cute! Especially when his eyelids clamped shut and his cheeks get mottled with a blush. I digress. I had him just where I wanted him; he knew it and went willingly. If he had a problem with the location this wouldn't be happening. I think somewhere he wanted to be caught by the wretched Mad Cow, and if it felt good in the process why the hell not? His head fell easily on my shoulder no longer fighting the feelings just letting them lap through him. Like the rising tide on a beach his hot breath rushed through the fabric of my shirt. "So." I spoke as my hand glided along his shaft never relenting even though the awkward position made me a little sore. "Were going camping next weekend. Wanna come?" He couldn't answer or wouldn't I could not tell. So I gave mini-Rusty a little squeeze to bring him around. He groaned loudly and his dick throbbed menacingly in my hand. My eyes widened as it spasmed again. I couldn't believe he was running on a hair trigger. He never had before. But, we were always behind closed doors before, never in his kitchen, the Mad Cow looming somewhere on the foggy edges of existence. It happened. Where? All over the kitchen table. Damn he was excited, by the amount, more so than me. "Christ!" I whispered as I continued holding his deflating dick. With a sigh he let go of my shirt and gave my hair a ruffle while he kissed my cheek. "Thanks," he muttered hazily. "For?" I asked still staring at the volume he had unleashed. "For doing what I never asked you to do." I knew what he meant. And yeah maybe he never vocalized it but his heart screamed it every chance it could. Through all the shyness and anger that I had seen it was there, two words. Two words I gladly heeded. Love me. He agreed to go camping the following weekend, noting his mother would barely notice him gone. How anyone could fail to notice his absence was a highest crime to me. I understood what he meant anyhow. The Cow did intrude the dinette that evening, stumbling as she did. Her eyes bagged with dark circles and barely coherent slurs. She asked what was all over the table. He was about to answer. I beat him. "I spilt my milk." I smiled as I plopped my finger in the viscous goo and brought it to my mouth. His eyes opened like saucers as his face turned deep red. I winked. She shrugged and stumbled off into the dank darkness of the terrible huge house that she, the Mad Cow, built. *** There it was, I hope you enjoyed. If you did drop me a note @ blackheart @ shadowgod . net Hell drop me a note if you didnt Till next time (soon I promise) Blackheart ________________________________________ Copyright 2003-2006 Blackheart.