Date: Tue, 20 May 2003 12:25:58 EDT
From: Writersrealmmm@aol.com
Subject: Bean Ball Chapter 1

Bean Ball

Chapter 1
Hits & Misses

Pete knew better than to get into the car. He was aware of all the stories
about what could happen when you did. He wasn't going anywhere but it was
such a great spring day he didn't want to go to his house and so he
disregarded all the precautionary tales he'd been taught.

He'd walked up to the Big O for a soda and a double order of fried onion
rings, extra ketchup please, after school. His buddy Beamo came close to
cutting off his finger preparing those very onion rings one afternoon, and
so Pete always got some, thinking they had to be good for someone to
sacrifice a finger to make them.

Now he was walking back home, not really wanting to go home, when the black
sedan eased over to the shoulder in front of him. It was the first car he'd
seen on the short walk. The coming home from school crowd was home and the
working class were still busy behind their desks. He measured the distance
to his house in his mind and then he pulled the door open, easing himself
into the front seat, only half glancing at the driver.

It wasn't important who it was. Doing something different and out of
character was. He was looking for something other than his routine. He had
been looking for something for some time but he still wasn't sure what it
was or why this need for adventure had grown so strong. A year ago he
wouldn't have gone near a strange car, especially on a deserted section of
road like that.

Pete knew what he was doing was wrong by the standards he'd been taught but
he wanted a ride just then and here is was. This would do fine and he shut
the door and looked straight ahead, being careful not to look at the
driver's face.

"Where you heading, kid?"

"I don't know. No where I guess," Pete said, sensing the driver would
know. "Killing time is all. Just don't want to go home yet."

"Want to cruise awhile.  I hate going home too. It's so damn boring."

"Yeah, why not? Let's cruise."

There were only about a million reasons why not, but those reasons had all
been discarded by then and he wasn't in the mood for reasons why not
anyway.

He was wearing orange and white socks. That's what Pete noticed first about
the driver. The dusty black baseball spikes were under Pete's feet, so he
knew why orange and white right off. The baseball shirt was laying on the
backseat when Pete looked in the back. He had thought he recognized the car
from other walks down that road.

The driver wore a gray sweatshirt with the sleeves cut off leaving wide
round holes. It only covered his chest and shoulders, leaving his flat
white belly exposed. His arms were cut and defined with tiny blond red
hairs on the thick forearms. Pete hesitated to look up at the face,
although he was sure he knew who the driver was by then.

After looking back out the windshield for a few seconds, Pete noticed the
thin line of curly dark hairs that peaked out from the gray pants. It was
what caught Pete's attention next that stirred a more intense interest in
the driver. The pants had the dark blue strip down the side and the top
button was unfastened and the zipper was down two inches, maybe three. It
was down far enough to expose the beginnings of a cream colored jock pouch
with a wide waistband just above there to interrupt the plunging hair that
started at the inny belly button.

The driver gazed straight ahead, guiding the car back on the road like a
pro. He seemed oblivious to his passenger at first, being more interested
in the trajectory of his vehicle.

"You've passed me on this road about a million times. You never stopped for
me before."

"Nope," the driver said seemingly unconcerned about the challenge.

"I wasn't hitching, you know."

"Yep. You weren't hitching."

"What's up with that?"

"I'm always in a hurry.  It's nothing personal.  You're a kid that's all. I
got things to do and places to go... usually. A guy like me can't be
picking up kids."

"You're Granger Harper!" Pete spoke the name in reverential tones and that
got him glance from Granger.

"Grandy! No one calls me Granger. Want a beer?" He asked, cocking his head
to one side and examining Pete carefully as he spoke.

"Maybe one. I got to be home at five thirty. Dinner you know."

"What, you think I got nothing to do but drive you around until then? It's
not even four."

"I don't know why you stopped.  Maybe, I guess," Pete said, noticing the
pants and the open zipper quickly as he talked and then he checked the arm
holes and finally Grandy's face.

The older boy kept one hand on the wheel and reached into the backseat and
inside the six pack cooler behind him. Pete could see the reddish brown
hair under his arm and the muscle flexed as he retrieved the beer. They
were crossing over the street that led down to Pete's house just then, but
he said nothing about going home. He had no interest in home just then.

Grandy brought two silver cans out of the cooler, handing one to Pete.

"You supposed to be drinking during the season?" Pete asked, popping the
top on the beer.

"Baseball season? Big deal! I went 0 for 4 today. I came up in the ninth.
We were behind 3 to 2. We had runners on first and third. All I had to do
was make contact with the fuckin' ball. Keep it on the right side of the
infield, and we're tied. Connect solid, we win."

"What happened?" Pete asked in excited anticipation after Grandy drew him
into the plot.

"0 for 4 I told you. Struck out," Grandy said with a great degree of
despair.  "O for fucking four."

"You struck out?"

"Big time, kid. I also fucked up a catch in the seventh inning and that's
how they got the lead in the first place. Kramer was pitching. A sure win
every time, except when I screw the pooch. There was a college scout at the
game. I'm sure he went away impressed. I'm fucked."

"You hit nearly four hundred your junior year. Three errors your whole
junior year. That's four hits for every ten times you came to bat. What's
up with that?" Pete quizzed.

Grandy held the steering wheel with his fingers at the very top as he
looked at Pete who had a clear view of the hair under his arm and the right
side of his wide chest. The nipple was the size of a nickel and a very nice
pink. It was raised and nicely defined and caused Pete to feel nervous,
when Grandy looked to see what he was looking at and then dropped his arm
just enough to hide the view and to cause Pete to swallow hard. He didn't
want to look but he couldn't help it. Grandy Harper was a god at school and
he had stopped to pick him up.

His skin was a pale white with a trace of pink in it and there was a dimple
where the muscle bunched at the back of his arm. There were freckles on his
arm and his chest, not dark freckles but freckles none the less. Grandy
looked at Pete for too long, while he thought about the way the kid was
looking at him. The car drifted off onto the right shoulder and he suddenly
jerked it back onto the pavement and looked back at the road, acting a
little flustered by his lapse.

"Where'd you get the beer?" Pete asked, going back to staring out the
windshield.

"I got friends. Just called in a favor. It was in my car after the game all
iced down for me."

"Maybe that's why you had a bad day. It can't be good for an athlete to be
drinking."

"What the fuck do you know?  I don't drink beer every day. Hell, it's the
first I've had beer this season. My life is a train wreck, kid, and I
needed a break if you don't mind."

Pete sipped the beer and was happy he wasn't going home. He wasn't sure
where they were going or why Grandy had picked him up but whatever they did
had to be better than home. He didn't get to ride in cars except with his
parents. It was a treat to ride with one of the seniors. He admired them
and their style and their worldliness but he didn't know any, only by
reputation and from a distance.

He knew one day he would be like Grandy but it seemed like it was taking
forever to get there. He tried to think of something clever to say but
settled for the silence and the fact he was going somewhere with someone
neat.

"My girlfriend blew me off last week, the bitch. That's why I needed the
beer."

"Oh!" Pete said, knowing nothing about girl problems.

"Oh what? What the fuck do you know? I mean I was that close to getting it
and she says, "Thanks, but no thanks. I'm a nice girl and there's another
dude."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Grandy. I know how a guy like you must need a girl," Pete
said sympathetic.  "Oh, I understand why you needed the beer. Why your life
sucks. That oh."

"Yeah, that's what it does all right, Sucks! Man, I been working that pussy
about for forever, you know. You ever been in love, kid?"

"No. I don't think so. If you were working it to get in her pants, that
isn't really love is it? Isn't that more about sex?"

"No! You're right. You're pretty smart," Grandy said, chuckling and
reaching over to mess up Pete's hair. "So, It was more than the pussy.
Don't ever fall in love, kid. That's the Grand's advice to an up and coming
stud like you. Women fuck your head up."

"That's why your in slump?"

"Yeah, I been chasing it pretty hard, every night for weeks. I was sure we
were almost there. Then she pulls this shit."

"What happened?" Pete asked, watching the other boy's torment and his flat
stomach with tiny reddish hairs.

"She said, she met someone more mature. She said, maybe we'd get back
together once I grew up some. What a bitch. She said I was too
pushy. Wanted it too bad."

"Maybe you can say you're sorry and she'll come back to you."

"Sorry! Sorry? Where do you come from?"

"Back about a mile," Pete said, glancing at Grandy.

"Sorry I'm a red blooded American boy that needs pussy. Not likely,
kid. I'm not sorry, maybe sorry I'm not getting it is all."

They stopped at the highway and made the right turn toward Camp Springs.

"Sorry! Right kid. You're a space cadet. Back about a mile. That's a good
one. That's where I'm from too when it comes to her. Back about a mile all
right. She played me."

"What's that mean?" Pete asked. "How can a girl play The Grand?"

"It means you shouldn't be giving advice on matters you know nothing
about. A guy my age has certain needs. Hell, I didn't have no trouble
bagging chicks until I met this one and started liking her too much. Until
then it was just about getting it and I got plenty. I went over there all
ready to rock and roll, and she springs this shit on me."

"I never got any," Pete said. "Never had a girlfriend yet."

"You're virgin kid? Far out. Don't know no virgins."

"I s'pose I'm one of those."

"You too young to jerk off? You ain't that virgin, are you?"

"No!" Pete objected.  "Of course I'm not too young to jerk off. I do that
plenty. Just never had a girl. I've thought about a few."

"No, you wouldn't be. You still hate girls or you just haven't gotten
around to them yet? I know what that's like. It was more fun before I
started chasing girls. Guys are easier to... well, easier, more fun, you
know."

"No, I don't hate anyone. Girls are cool. They just don't do anything for
me down there is all."

"You're telling me girls don't turn you on. They're a lot cooler when
they're putting out. That's for sure."

"I'm only a sophomore. Maybe I'll meet one I like and she'll put out, huh?"

"Well call me when she does and I'll give you a hand. Just kidding, kid."

"Sure, I wouldn't mind," Pete said, admiring Grandy with a smile. "I'm not
selfish."

"Well, you'll meet a girl and she'll seem nice, and she'll want to be
kissing on you, and one thing will lead to another and then you'll
mind. You won't let old Grandy within ten feet of your woman, because
you'll know what I'm after. I'd nail her for sure if you gave me a
chance. You do know what screwing is, right?"

"I seen pictures," Pete said.

Grandy's arm passed in front of Pete as he clicked the button on the glove
compartment. The door flopped down and a bunch of dirty books slid across
Pete's legs, spilling onto the baseball spikes and the floor.

"That's what I'm left with, kid. Whack the Willie until I find more
pussy. Pull the Salami. Spank the monkey. That's what she left me with."

"If you guys weren't already doing it, weren't you like jerking off
anyway?"

"Well, sure come to think of it. It's way different when you're getting it
or planning on getting it. I mean we made out and all. She jerked me off a
few times when she really had me going and wanted to keep me going. She
knew how to work me all right. Man, my dicks getting hard thinking about
it."

Grandy grabbed his cock through his jock and squeezed while looking down at
it. Pete watched him hump his hand two quick times, lifting his ass up so
that he could force his hard-on firmly against his hand before realizing
Pete was taking it all in.

"That must have been cool. Someone else touching it, huh? I can see why it
gets you going."

"You never let no one touch it before? You've been deprived. Don't mind
me. I'm terminally horny."

"It's cool. It's not like I can't do that if I want," Pete said, indicating
with his head that he was talking about Grandy manhandling him self.

"She let me use the finger when she was in the mood. Over the weekend we
were in the backseat and I had her panties down. I had my dick out and we
were all but there. My finger was buried and she was riding it like a
pro. We were a minute away from me getting in there. I should ah just gone
ahead and.... I could have.... I could have."

"Why'd you pick me up?"

"I don't know. Someone to talk to about it. I can't talk to the guys. Shit,
they'll put me down. Say its cause I got a small pecker or don't know what
to do with it."

"How small is it?" Pete asked.

"Fuck, it ain't small at all. It's plenty big. That's what they'll say if
I'm moaning about losing my woman is what I'm saying."

"Why would they say that? How would they know."

"To make me feel bad. To insult me. Rub it in. Don't you know anything
about buddies?"

"These are your friends and they see you're hurting and they put you down
to make you feel worse or what?"

"Something like that. The way you put it makes it sound bad."

"Why would they do that? Why would you let them? Friends don't make you
feel bad. No friends I want anyway."

"It's a guy thing. You don't understand yet. Once you get older you'll
see," Grandy said, looking at the boy as he answered. "The thing is, they'd
telling me to get over it when they talk about my little dick and not
knowing how to use it and all."

"You said it wasn't little," Pete said. "You're confusing me. So is it or
isn't it?"

"Well it isn't but they'd say it is. Anyway, I wouldn't tell them just
because they'd say that. You're harmless. I just needed to talk to someone
that wouldn't spread it around."

"Okay," Pete said, and they looked at each other. "I'm cool with that. You
can tell me anything you want. I'll listen."

"You're okay kid. At first I thought you were a little slow. I forgot what
it's like being your age and not knowing anything, but you're cool."

"Thanks."

"You need to level out your swing. You upper cut the ball. You don't keep
your eye on it."

"What?" Pete asked.

"You use to play on the field behind ours. I saw you playing ball there a
couple of weeks ago. I've seen you a couple of times. I'm Centerfield? Puts
me out near your home plate. I've watched you bat. I haven't seen you
lately, but you're a sucker for a curve kid. You've got to learn to get
ahead of the break and keep your eye on it all the way. It's the only way
to hit a curve."

"My names Pete. I got cut from the JV on account I was a "sucker" for a
curve Coach Jennings said. You watched me?"

"Oh! Sorry. Guess I should have told you sooner about the curve ball. It's
not like we get to talk like this often."

"I couldn't hit a lick. You watched me? I didn't know you knew I was
alive. You're a senior. I'm a sophomore."

"You figure that out all by yourself, did you? Look, you've got to swing
level so you make contact.  Power hitters can angle their swing up, but
only when they know they'll get the barrel of the bat on the ball.  That
gives them the lift they need to knock it out. A high average hitter can
get on top or up under and tilt the bat to put the ball where he wants it.
When you're starting out you got to level off your swing until you learn
all those things. I couldn't hit worth shit when I was your age."

"Really?" Pete said hopefully. "The Grand wached me hit! Cool."

"Nah, I was always great," Grandy said and laughed, tossing an empty beer
can into the back seat. "Want a beer, kid."

"Nah, I can't drink any more. My name's Pete and my parents would kill me
if I came in smelling like beer."

"Yeah, I know, kid. Nothing personal. I'm going to drive out to the old
airport, okay? I'll have you back in time for dinner."

"Sure. I got to be back at five thirty though."

"Sure. No problem Pete. I got it covered."

Grandy made a U-turn at the first wide spot in the road and turned at the
back road that led to Hyde Field. It was seldom used any longer. Pete
finally reached down and picked up a couple of the books he'd been
wondering about. He didn't want to seem weird but he didn't get much of a
chance to see good books. He sat them on his lap and started turning the
pages.

"What's it like?" Pete finally asked, looking through the books for one
with a guy's cock buried deep.

"Pussy? Warm, wet, and wild. It's the best Pete. Just never enough to go
around. That's why the beer and the books. I have a few beers and look at
the books and it's almost like being there, you know."

"Maybe one more would be cool then. I am getting a buzz and the books are
getting me...," Pete said, drinking down the rest of his beer he had in
hand as he turning more pages.

"That's the spirit, Pete boy. The power of positive thinking. I knew you
were a regular guy."

Pete smiled when he realized Grandy was using his name. It made him feel
nice, almost like they were friends. He felt flushed and couldn't stop
turning the pages. He hadn't seen any books like these and they were
getting him going pretty good or being with Grandy was.

The guys he knew stole stuff from their older brothers and showed it around
school but Pete didn't have an older brother, so he only got to see someone
else's contraband. He liked these books and being with someone that didn't
think he was weird for looking at the pictures.

"These are great," Pete said.

"Shit! You ain't got to the good stuff," Grandy said, tossing several books
off Pete's lap and onto the floor until he came to the one he was looking
for. "This one is awesome. The babe has bodacious tits. I get hard thinking
about them. The guys dick is like mine and so I can really imagine it's me
doing it to her."

"Your dick is like his?" Pete asked, looking closely at the erection.

"Yeah, well, that's not what you should be looking at. I mean for me it
makes it better."

Once Grandy had the book open he was looking for, he reached into his open
pants and squeezed the front of his jock as he stared at the road. Pete
watched his hand and could see the bulge building as Grandy squeezed, and
the zipper was not two thirds of the way down and reddish hairs were at the
sides of the pouch. Pete looked at the fat cock on the page and then back
to how Grandy held himself.

"You do it in the car? I mean the books are here?" Pete asked with
excitement being present in his voice. "You like... jerk it in here?"

"Yes, I do, Pete, my boy. Don't tell me you can look at these and not hit
wood? I'm hard just thinking about looking at that book," Grandy said,
squeezing the pouch and hold it in a way that gave Pete an even clearer
view of what was growing inside.

"I didn't say that," Pete said. "I mean of course I am. I've just never
done it anywhere but at home in private."

"I didn't think so. It's cool though. Nothing to be ashamed of Pete. I do
it all over the place. If I get in the mood I just find a quiet spot and
pull over."

"You never get caught?"

"No. Almost a couple of times. I get going good and someone comes along and
I might not notice. No one has caught me that I know of. Once at school in
the parking lot after practice. A guy walked past the car and then kept
looking back. I was gong to town so he had to see."

"You finished. I'd freak out if someone saw me."

"Sure I finished. It was even more exciting knowing he'd seen me jerking
off. I didn't mind."

"Why from behind?" Pete asked as he watched the guy positioned behind the
girl in the picture Grandy opened for him.

"I don't know. It's hot. You get good leverage. Hold onto the tits and ride
from behind like a cowboy. Back in the saddle again is good, kid."

"Do you do it that way? That's how you like doing it?"

"Sometimes. Depends on the girl. You got to go with what she wants."

"How old were you the first time?"

"Junior high. I was thirteen. She was sixteen as I recall. I didn't know
what I was doing."

"Where'd you meet her," Pete said, looking up from the pictures. "How'd you
know she would?"

"In a friends bedroom. He was way older an me. He was on the baseball team
too. I think he was fifteen. She liked younger guys for some reason and she
wasn't all that old."

"We?"

"Yeah, me and Roger Stark. We hung together. He had this girl he was
dicking. She came over one day while I was there. We were playing vids or
something when she shows up and decides she wants to screw. At first Roger
tries to get rid of me but then she says that isn't necessary and there are
plenty of ways to spread it around so everyone gets plenty, especially
her. So we did."

"She didn't care?"

"Care? She told us what she wanted and we just did it. It was like being in
a movie and she was the director. You stick it in here and you stand like
this and put it in there."

"What was it like letting your friend watch you? Weren't you nervous
letting him see you do it?"

"Nervous? I wasn't worried about him. I was finally doing it. Like it was
the greatest. I was fucking, Pete. What do you think it was like?"

"I mean him watching you do it? I'd be nervous."

"Haven't you been in on a circle jerk?"

"No. Nothing like that."

"Pete, what do you do with it? I was always in on a circle jerk. I was a
regular horn dog when I was your age."

"I'm almost sixteen and I haven't done anything."

"Yeah, well, when I was twelve I was jerking off with my friends to porn
tapes. Shit, it was a regular afternoon affair back then. There wasn't
anything else to do."

"Does it get better when you're your age?" Pete asked.

"That bat gets bigger but no, it doesn't get any better than that. I still
jerk off thing about me and Roger doing her. Don't remember her name
though. I do remember being in heaven."

"I've never done anything."

"Shit! I got to take a piss and now I'm all hard up talking about this
shit."

"Sorry," Pete said. "It's just that I don't know anything."

"Not your fault Pete. It's what happens. Guys are hard half the time
anyway. You just don't have the right friends. You should have known
Roger. He would have gotten you laid. He always had chicks."

"Yeah," Pete said. "That's for sure. I need somebody to help me. These are
hot books. Now I'm all hard too."

Grandy finished his beer and tossed it in the backseat with the others. He
turned right at the first dirt road at the top of the airport hangers. He
drove back up under some trees a few hundred yards off the road.

"I got to piss like a race horse," he said.

"Me too," Pete said.

Pete stood at one corner of the front fender and Grandy stood at the
other. Grandy let his pants drop to his knees and pushed his jock half way
down his thighs, exposing him up to where the shirt was cut at the bottom
of his chest. Pete couldn't stop looking at Grandy's sturdy erection. It
was white with pink hues that darkened the nearer to the top he looked and
the tip shown darkest out from under the skin that half covered half the
purplish head.

"You got skin on yours?" Pete observed, with the beer causing him to forget
protocol as he stared at his heroes formidable cock.

"You don't," Grandy said. "I was that size my first time, you know. Yours
is maybe bigger an mine was."

"Really. You got a big one now," Pete said. "I never seen one hard. Only in
books. It's a lot different than the ones in the book."

"You should have seen Roger. Boy had a real slab of meat on him. Couldn't
even get my hand around that sucker. He was big."

"You touched it?"

Grandy looked at Pete and Pete's dick, "Sure, told you I was a horn dog
back then."

"When's the last time you touched one?" Pete asked.

Grandy spent a long time looking at him, trying to formulate his answer to
defuse whatever it was that was going on between them now. He figured the
truth was the best idea.

"Last season. I was junior. He was a senior. He had the car and the
books. We'd give each other a hand. He was a senior and wanted me to touch
him and he wanted to touch mine. He had a big one too."

"I'm small compared to you," Pete said, checking out his erection.

"Plenty big enough to have fun, Pete my boy. You'll find a nice girl and
that'll be that."

"You're telling me mine might get that big?"

"Yeah, but that isn't my problem right now. It's never going to go down if
I don't piss. I hate this. This is the downside of beer and books."

"Me too," Pete said, before finally concentrating hard enough to start
pissing so he could hide his smaller cock.

Finishing first, Pete sat back in the car while Grandy continued his
vigil. He noticed Grandy even had freckles on his white round ass and
plenty of hair to boot. He had a big crop of dark reddish brown hair around
his dick and balls and more brown hair on his legs. As he admired his
companion he couldn't help but compare Grandy's erect penis with the ones
in the book and then to his own. It was stimulating indeed and only last
year he was feeling an older boys cock.

It was somehow comforting to hear that a guy with such a large one had once
been his size. The book held little excitement with Grandy almost naked in
front of him. He'd seen all the guys naked in the locker room and in the
showers, but they were mostly guys his age and didn't offer much excitement
for him. Grandy was both older and more mature and that made it hard not to
look at him.

He wasn't much with talking to his own friends about such stuff and he
avoided the porno parties and the sex charged situations that got them all
worked up and excited. It unnerved him when they talked about fucking and
their dicks and then bragged about how big or how experienced they
were. Somehow it wasn't nearly as difficult with Grandy but Grandy didn't
expect him to know anything or to brag about experiences he'd yet to
have. This was easier by far than being with his friends.

"Hey, Pete, I'm going to put on my shorts. This things going to bust out of
my pants."

Grandy's cock rubbed on the back of the seat as he reached into the back
and yanked up a black gym back. He laid his pants on top of his shirt in
the backseat. Standing in the doorway with his half-hard cock swinging in
the breeze, Grandy continued looking in the gym bag that he sat on the
seat.

Pete could see that the skin was completely covering the head now but the
head was distinctly showing through the tight white skin that held it. His
jock still rested on his thighs and didn't disturb the view. The color of
his cock had changed, softened, lighted in color and looked less excited
but no less exciting. The hair on his crotch looked quite manly and
decorated his crotch well. Grandy never looked up to see if Pete was
looking but Pete had no doubt that the jock was where it was so he could
look and the story about the boy he played with last year wasn't a story he
had told to anyone else. It was all very exciting, as was the smell of the
crotch that faced him from only a couple of feet away.

"What are you staring at?" Grandy finally said in gruff voice, looking up
out of his bag as he yanked out a silky looking pair of royal blue
shorts. "This fuckers are dirty but I can hang free in them."

"I never seen one like yours close up. I mean, in gym class sure but that's
with guys my age. You're way big and you got hair everywhere. It's kind of
neat, you know."

"Yeah, well, don't get no ideas, sport. I'm a pussy packer for sure these
days. I don't wag winnies with little boys any more. You grow out of that
once you get my age."

"Grow out of what? I told you I never did anything. Weren't you packing
pussy last year when you were doing it with that guy?"

"Yeah, well, that was then. I'm too old to be messing with that shit."

"You said you did it last season."

"Well I ain't going to be diding it with you, so keep your eyes to
yourself, okay? You're making me nervous."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean nothin' like that, Grandy. I just never seen one
up close is all. Not hard like yours."

"No, I'm sorry. It's cool. No need to explain. Curiosity killed the cat but
it's also how we learn the good shit. I guess I'd be staring too if I was
seeing a man's cock for the first time. I should a done this in private but
you seem cool enough. I don't care if you look."

He pulled on the shorts and tossed his socks in the bag and dropped the bag
into the backseat.

"Anymore. You said anymore," Pete was still running through their
conversation, picking up on anything that thrilled him.

"Anymore what?" Grandy asked, situating his cock and balls in his shorts as
he arranged himself in his seat.

"You don't wag winnies with young dudes "anymore" you said."

"Yeah, you know, circle jerk stuff. You give me a hand. I give you a hand."

"You did that a lot?" Pete said unable to hide the excitement.

"Shit, you're younger than I thought you was. All guys do that!"

"I told you I never did," Pete defended, not knowing how he had missed out
on it because the idea was appealing.

"You just ain't got to it yet is all. You will soon enough."

"No," Pete said.

"You caught me a little short here, Pete. You're lucky my girl dumped me
last night. I was too pissed to jerk off after that. I was ready to go home
and do it. You want to feel it? Just for a minute, now. No engagement
parties or nothin' like that but I guess you could feel it."

"Your Penis?" The word hung there for a minute.

"No, kid, my cock. You want to know what a man's cock feels like or don't
you? You stared at it long enough and you've never done anything. Now's
your chance. I'll help you get your education. Somebody's got to do it."

"You think I should? I mean, isn't that weird to be feeling up another
guy?"

Pete was staring at Grandy again. He'd never thought of doing such a thing
until he went with Grandy but it didn't seem like a totally bad idea. There
was the part of the idea that struck him as odd or wrong, but then there
was the excitement that went with the suggestion. His own cock was
straining in his pants but he was looking at fuck pictures after all,
except he knew that was only half of it. Some of the excitement had come
from staring at exactly what Grandy said he could touch. He'd never been so
worked up before and that scared him more than a little.

"What, you want an engraved invitation or what?"

"I don't know if I should," Pete said cautiously. "I don't think I'm
supposed to."

"Suit yourself," Grandy said too quickly, almost relieved. "You seemed like
you wanted to grab it there for awhile. That's okay by me. Give me that top
book. I got to take the starch out of this thing before I drive you home,"
Grandy said boldly. "Fucker's standing up like a trooper again."

Pete sat looking into the next magazine. He watched out of the corner of
his eye as Grandy placed his favorite magazine out over his lap. His right
hand disappeared under it. The magazine moved as he kept busy feeling
himself through his shinny shorts.

"The offer is still open. You can do me more good with your hand than you
can by looking at it out of the corner of your eye. If seeing it turns you
on touching it might really get you going."

 "I would... but I'm scared. Guys talk about stuff like that. Say bad stuff
about guys that touch theirs."

"Yeah, maybe next time," Grandy said, looking at Pete as he held his hard
cock through the material so it was hard to miss.

Pete wanted to touch it but not through the shorts. It still worried him
and he hardly knew Grandy, even though he knew everything about him. Would
there be a next time? And what if there wasn't? What if this turned out to
be his one and only chance to feel Grandy Harper's hard dick?

					*****
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