Date: Sun, 27 Mar 2011 00:30:33 -0400
From: Nick <bingabuffalo@gmail.com>
Subject: Dalton - 1 & 2

Chapter 1

I met Dalton freshman year in marching band. He was always just one of the
guys in the drumline to me. Dalton was about 5'10" and he had dark brown hair,
brown eyes, and a beard he always neatly kept to a fine scruff. His face was
round, soft, with two small beauty marks just to the left of his left nostril.
Despite his athletic posture, he had a bit of a belly; it was lightly dusted
with a happy trail that winked from under his shirt whenever he raised his
arms up in a stretch. I hardly had time to notice the way his smile made other
girls melt, or his manly, almost guttural laugh, as I, the scared and quiet
freshman, bumbled through the halls.
I joined the Drumline as a marimba player Junior year because I had learned
the basics of juggling my AP workload with the school choir and the various
other duties at home, and wanted to branch out. Dalton had been in the
Drumline as a sophomore, two years before, and had skipped out on it the
previous year. He was now rejoining because, as I later overheard, he had lost
his job as a ski instructor at the local ski resort. We practiced practically
daily, and try as I might to pass him off as an insignificant cute boy in my
head, he kept nagging at the back of my thoughts, and my head would turn,
involuntarily it seemed, to steal quick glances at his face as he concentrated
on playing the rhythms in time. He was a senior now and he had grown to full
maturity, the last of his muscles finally bulging, with a little help from
playing drums of years. He stood with a slightly hunched appearance, as if the
weight of being an adult and still in high school were pushing him down.
"Nick...?" I had fallen into a lustful stupor and was caught for the first
time as my instructor yanked me back to practice.
Now, by this point in my life, pretty much everyone in my life knew that I was
gay. I had come out in the latter half of eighth grade after realizing for the
first time that the subjects of my masturbatory visions were of the same sex;
especially a certain first crush, whose face still sometimes gives me goose
bumps despite how many people, including myself, I've convinced I'm over. The
news seemed to spread through my junior high faster than I could get to my
next class and three days later, everyone had heard. I spent the next year and
half confirming that what people had heard was in fact true. But, I was a
junior now and if people didn't know already that I was gay when they met me,
they could easily recognize my name when somebody said it.
As I quickly looked back toward the front of the room we were practicing in, I
cursed myself. I had spent so much time in the locker rooms and in the halls
perfecting my art of stealing fleeting looks at eye candy and I knew that as I
blushed helplessly in embarrassment, I was found out for sure. But practice
moved on wordlessly and I went home that night sexually charged and frustrated
with myself. Masturbation provided little relief.
Two weeks later, we were returning from a competition in which we placed
second when I overheard the seniors talking about going out to the local diner
when we arrived home. This was a customary tradition in Drumline, one in which
I had participated before, and I had been looking forward to it. We unloaded
the truck of all our equipment once we got home and prepared to leave the
school. Dalton approached me nonchalantly...
"Yo, are you going to the diner?"
"Yeah, I am, but could you give me a ride?" I had practically thrown myself of
the cliff of my greatest fears of rejection and waited for his reaction.
"Sure, yeah, let's go." He called out to the rest of the members, "Does anyone
else need a ride to the diner?" Nobody responded and Dalton shrugged, turning
to me, "Guess it's just you and me." I stopped myself before my throat could
croak out a potentially embarrassing 'Yeah' and followed him out of the school
silently.
We reached his small, blue two-door and I put my bag of gear in the back seat
along with his own. We split to opposite sides of the car and got in. Turning
the key in the ignition, Dalton said,
"You don't mind if I smoke do you?"
"No," I responded, "not as long as you keep the window open."
"Oh no, I would never leave it closed, that makes your car smell like shit."
He grinned and lit up as we pulled out of the parking lot. He drove
aggressively, (but then again what teenage boy doesn't?) and I sat in the
passenger seat, speechless and trying to maintain tunnel vision. I soon
realized the stiffness of my posture and changed my position to a more
relaxed-appearing recline before Dalton said anything. I let my head move
around a bit, watching the pedestrians and clouds instead of just the dashed,
yellow line that divided the street. Stupidly, I allowed my vision to pass
across the left side of the car, and the instant I saw Dalton my eyes were
locked on the track like super magnets to inexorable mortification. They slid
down his stomach as I screamed inside, wanting desperately to look away at
anything at all, but unable to, suddenly spellbound by the contour of his
lower chest. Finally my eyes came to rest on his groin where, through his
fleece sweatpants, they feasted eagerly on the lump that rested so close
underneath. Dalton's package was extended down at least a quarter of the way
down his thigh and was so plump that I could have sworn he was a little hard.
I knew that this had to be partly my imagination, wishful thinking perhaps,
but I relished nonetheless at the sight.
Back in reality, Dalton hadn't yet noticed that I was staring right into his
lap, when he glanced over to check for opposing traffic as he made a left
turn. In vain, I shifted my glance to the console, hoping he would think
nothing of it. Without thinking, I looked back at his face and he frowned just
slightly and then looked forward again to make sure the light wasn't turning
red. The rest of the ride was spent in aching silence, and when we arrived at
the diner I flew out of the car and walked into the building.

Chapter 2

Our conversation with the ten-some in the diner was of course sexual, which
didn't help my blooming feelings for Dalton. But being teenagers we were bound
for it and I played along with the banter until we finished our meals. The
waitress came to give us the check, and mostly to avoid the bickering over how
much each person should pay, I left them a twenty and went to the bathroom. I
locked the door as I went in and spent a few minutes enjoying the quietude of
the bathroom, taking a breather from the sexually stimulating conversation. I
left after a nice relief and was rendered speechless to find that everyone had
already left, but one person, hunched over the table and sorting out the bills
for the tip. I instantly sighed in defeat as I approached the table and
grabbed my sweatshirt. Dalton looked up, his facial expression unchanging and
asked plainly,
"You need a ride home, too?"
"Yeah, could you?" I choked out.
"Depends. Where do you live?" I told him where my house was and watched as he
considered the distance and route in his head. "Sure, I can drive you."
We walked out of the diner and I thanked our waitress. Dalton held the door
for me and I passed by in silence and strode to his car. It was chilly and I
shivered a little as I waited for him to catch up. Reaching for the car door,
I felt awkward because it hadn't been locked, and I had just waited for him so
that we got in the car at the same time. I buckled in and Dalton turned down
the radio to a soothing volume as he lit up a post meal cigarette. The fumes
mostly went out the window, but my nostrils caught a few and I sucked it in.
He smoked Camels. My grandmother smoked Camels so I recognized the smell,
slightly sweeter than the Marlboros my parents smoked before they both quit.
It was because of the menthol. I was truly relaxed for a brief moment as
nostalgia lulled me. I opened my eyes to see the orange tip of the cigarette
butt fritter out the window as Dalton tossed it away. He exhaled deeper than
normal as the last of the smoke left his lips. I put my arm up on the arm rest
and it grazed Dalton's, sending an unexpected stream of goose bumps down my
left side and I gasped quietly.
My cursed eyes wandered their way back to his knees and slowly up to his
crotch. My dick plumped up a little with the sensation of the cool air on my
face and my gaze set unrelentingly on that package of his. Then he caught me
again; and he had to know that it meant something this time. He stared back at
me with that same confused frown as before and then I saw the realization
flood across his face. First his eyebrows softened, and he cocked his head to
side just a little; he pursed his lips then and squinted at me, all as I
stared back in shameful horror. He turned his head back to the road and it was
minutes upon torturous minutes before he cleared his throat authoritatively
and said,
"You want my dick, don't you?" I could only stare ahead choking on my own
breath. "Yeah, you want it, don't pretend you don't. You've been staring at it
for half the goddamned night." I gathered he was still looking straight ahead
from my peripheral vision. Too scared to move, I sat waiting for the next few
words. "Well?" he spat; he grabbed my hand from my lap and put it over his
warm groin, and layering his right hand over mine, he squeezed it into himself
hard. Dalton sighed in pleasure as I continued squeezing out of instinct,
releasing his hand from my own. His dick expanded rapidly and soon throbbed
under my grip, forcing its way down his right leg. I grabbed at the shaft once
more before sliding my fingers underneath the waistband of his sweatpants and
then his boxers. He shivered as I ran my fingertips through his pubes and
around the base of his dick, teasing him a bit before I took hold of his
manhood in my uncovered hand for the first time. Dalton's foot weighed down on
the gas and we flew forward when he overcorrected with the brake. My hand
pulled on his dick up to the head and he flexed it, thrusting his hips into my
palm.
We pulled up to the next red light and Dalton immediately reached for his
sweatpants and pulled them down to his knees. His huge, pulsing member flung
up to his stomach and was leaking slightly at the tip, which glistened in the
light of the traffic signal. I reached for it hungry with lust and ran my
finger over the head collecting the precum. It flowed viscously and separated
from its hole of origin as I brought my finger to my mouth and sucked off the
precum. It was warm and salty and I trembled in lustful gratification. The
light turned green and Dalton looked over to me, glowering, wondering why I
had stopped servicing him. I wasted no time in grabbing hold of his dick again
and feeling its hotness in my hand before I leaned over him and plunged my
tongue into his dick hole, tasting that sweet precum again. Dalton let an
audible moan escape and I knew he couldn't help it as he pushed his hips up to
meet my lips in his lap. My mouth then engulfed the entire head of his dick
and I swirled my tongue all the way around it, paying special attention to the
underside where I knew it was most sensitive. He whimpered as I continued down
the rest of the shaft, hardly able to fit his entire dick down my throat. I
managed though and played with his balls while I sucked eagerly, running the
hairy, wrinkled skin back and forth over his heavy balls.
"Yeah..." he gasped, and pushed my head down with his right hand. I sensed his
breathing getting raspy and uneven and I pulled back a little, catching my
breath. Dalton was hardly able to pant out,
"No please, keep going...please." I couldn't deny his begging and dove back
down onto his dick, swallowing it all back down as he groaned in pleasure. The
car swerved over the line, but neither of us cared. I kept going, bobbing up
and down and Dalton thrusting violently. We stopped at a red light and he
dropped his arms from the wheel, threw his head back, and forced his dick into
me. I flicked my tongue across his dick hole and Dalton yelped, finally
shooting his hot cum straight into the back of my throat. He kept coming for
what seemed like minutes and I swallowed every shot of his thick cum,
massaging the base of his dick with my hand. At last, he exhaled as he let go
of my head. I sucked the last drops of cum from his dick and swallowed them
down as I sat back up in my seat.
I said nothing and sighed, still tasting him in my mouth. Dalton pulled his
pants back up and drove me to my house. Minutes later we pulled into my
driveway and I gazed at him. His mouth worked into an exhausted grin and I
could only stare back blankly in disbelief. I looked down at my shaking hands
and reached for the door, taking my bag from the back seat and stepped out of
the car.
"Thanks," I stuttered, and then turned around, and went inside.