Date: Thu, 14 Jun 2007 08:44:45 -0700 (PDT) From: don mumford Subject: OLIVER'S ENDLESS SUMMER ENDS... Part 1 I woke up to another beautiful summer day. First thing I thought about was the dream I'd had last night...the one where I was in the shower with Frankie. In the dream we jerked each other off and then washed each others' skinny, slippery bodies till we were so clean we shimmered and shined. I was laying on my side, looking at the wall thinking about that dream when I thought "wait a second...aren't those Frankie's round eyeglasses on the bedside table?' and I turned my head and there was Frankie sleeping next to me. Ah ha! I hadn't been dreaming after all. Trying not to wake Frankie I slowly turned over so I could look at him. The sunshine pouring in my bedroom window high-lighted Frankie's bright red hair against the whiteness of the pillow case. And, oh my, what a beautiful complexion he has....so smooth and flawless. I looked real close-up and noticed a little spit bubble at the corner of his mouth.....it was expanding and contracting as he breathed in his deep, peaceful sleep. With just the very tip of my tongue I licked the bubble off the corner of his lips as Frankie exhaled a nice tooth-pasty breath in my face. Like an artist's drawing, Frankie's facial features are perfectly proportioned and outlined nicely by his bright red hairline that runs straight across the top of his forehead and then, following the contour of his face, down to his closely clipped sideburns. I traced along it's path with my finger tip, barely touching him along the way. Light blond fuzz showed itself just below his sideburns and a little at the ends of his upper lip. I brushed against this fuzz with the back of my finger and it was so soft I could hardly feel it. This was so much fun, scrutinizing Frankie's face so closely... I could see subtle details that, together, created his very special looks. His eyebrows are strawberry blond, finely and thinly formed, while his eyelashes are light brown, long and curved. Being objective I'd have to admit that Frankie's nose is maybe a bit too cute for a boy and his chin is definitely too cute, but I wouldn't change a thing on his face even if I could. Unable to stop myself I leaned down to lightly lick his full, dark pink lips. Not a peep out of Frankie. His ears stuck-out away from his head, just like mine do....... his were even more noticeable because his hair was clipped very short around the sides near his ears. The sun shining through the back of his ear that is closest to me almost made the ear translucent and I had to fight off the urge to suck that whole ear into my mouth. This was one luscious looking boy. So clean looking, so pure. I put my face lightly against his cheek and felt his smooth, silky skin and with my nose against the side of Frankie's forehead I inhaled and then shivered at the delicious odor of him. I rubbed my nose in his short red hair and smelled how nice that was. Last night I'd shampooed Frankie's hair, seemingly forever..... a low moan escaped my lips just from thinking about last night. Pressing my nose against his cheek smelling him some more caused my cock to firm up as hard as the posts at the top of our bed. Another quiet moan of pleasure from me. Last night I'd pulled our boxer shorts off of us so I could suck and lick his cock and balls until he fired off his second climax of the night. I'd been stroking my own boner right along with my sucking and licking. I also remember surprising myself by licking his you-know-what hole. What a rush that had been. I did it more than once and couldn't believe how much it turned me on. Frankie too. Oh my God, it was the best night of my life. Last night we never got around to putting our boxers back on so I took this opportunity to reach under the sheet and rub Frankie's smooth, hairless belly and then down into his closely shorn, bright red pubes. I cupped his large, hairless nuts in my hand and quietly giggled to myself just thinking about giving those nuts a tight squeeze and watching Frankie's eyes flash open. No, I don't want to wake him up just yet, I'm enjoying myself too much. I ran my hand down the inside of his thigh as far as I could reach and he involuntarily moved his legs open some more which allowing me full access to his private parts. A quick check of his face to be sure he was still sleeping ..... then back I went to rubbing and caressing his body. My breathing was in short bursts because the thrill of exploring Frankie's body had me excited and hot. My hand roamed under his balls till the side of my hand was in Frankie's crack, in between his bum cheeks. The side of my index finger was against his hole so I rubbed it and it closed up tight. Thinking about pushing my finger inside him got me excited and I had to stroke my hard boner a few times, although I was careful not to shoot off just yet because staying right on the edge was a wicked, exciting sensation. I brought my hand back to rub all around his groin area...his spread-out legs were as relaxed as it was possible to be. On the loading dock I love to look at Frankie's fantastic legs and even though he's only 5'9" tall his legs look long. Nice long, thin, shapely legs with noticeable definition in the calf muscle. Actually, other than the sparse hairs on his calves, his legs looked almost pre-adolescent. I don't know if such a thing even makes sense, but I think Frankie has pretty legs and at the same time they're athletic looking legs too. I bent down some to lightly lay the side of my face on Frankie's belly, near his pubes, so I could reach to touch his feet and run my hands over those shapely calves of his. Once again I became acutely aware of Frankie's body odor, such a sexy smell it made me shudder. I loved the feel of those legs so much I rubbed the closest one, starting at the ankle..... from his ankle to his crotch and back down to his heel. Then I did it slowly a number of times more. Those sparse, blond, almost straight hairs on his calves are the only hairs he has on his legs and I loved the feel of them on my fingers. I moved my head down further and laid the side of my face on his thigh and inhaled his crotch area deeply. I almost had a spontaneous climax enjoying this stronger "Frankie smell"...... this time I didn't dare stroke my boner. I knew from seeing Frankie in shorts that everything about his legs and his knees and his feet....all of it together, are perfection. The skin on his knees is taut and so new looking, so fresh. Rubbing his legs and feeling the light, soft hairs on his calves...oh my God, I wanted to lick all of it, not just feel all of it. In my quickly formed fantasy, I'd saw myself licking the soles of his feet and then sucking on his toes until they dripped with my spit.......and then lick and suck up and all around his calf, licking behind his knee and then around to the front of his knee and up the inside of his thigh, leaving a spit trail all the way up to his balls. I wanted to suck both his large nuts into my mouth filling my mouth so full that I'd have to breath through my nose. Taking a chance, I stroked my boner while thinking about his balls in my mouth and precum drooled over my fingers. It surprised me that my nuts, already so full of cum they were hard and tight up against my belly, hadn't shot their loads up and out of my swollen cock by now. Oh, would that feel fantastic...but I wanted to keep enjoying this other sensation of 'almost cuming' a little longer. Another groan slipped out of me and a long, whispery breath came hissing out between Frankie's lips. Hearing that I looked up at his face just as Frankie's eyes began moving quickly behind his eyelids. Yeah, I seem to remember reading somewhere that this was an indication of dreaming. Gee, I wonder if maybe he's dreaming about me. Wouldn't that be nice. Lifting my head back to lay next to Frankie's head on the pillow I tried to calm myself down. Breathing regularly again I gave my boner a couple of strokes and thought what a great way this is to start the day. Maybe it can be a regular thing with Frankie and me....maybe in the not-too-distant future too. I can dream...can't I ? I reached back down again and felt Frankie's cock which had now become very hard. Apparently, this was a dream-induced boner. Hey, if he actually is dreaming about me, from the size of his boner I'd have to guess that he's sure enjoying the dream. It made me grin just looking at him. How lucky can I be? Frankie Nerney in all his perfection and all his cuteness laying next to me in my friggin bed.... and he's probably dreaming about me. What could be better! Wrapping my entire hand around it I began stroking his big, long, uncut cock. First pulling the hood off the head of his cock and then quickly sliding it back on and then off and then back on again... getting a nice rhythm to my stroking. Shortly Frankie tightened his eyelids and lips a little bit as I increased the pressure and speed of my hand job. When he moved his head back and forth on the pillow I slowed up the stroking and with my left hand I began stroking myself again. God, this was so hot! What a wild, first-thing-in-the-morning, turn-on. I love this! Then, from his private dream-world Frankie said something. He's talking in his sleep....I moved my ear close to his lips and listened....the second word sounded like "Pete". Pete? PETE? What the fuck...? I stopped stroking our boners and shook his shoulder a little. Frankie said, "Smuoodin kiev" and I shook him harder and his big blue eyes opened... he said, "Oliver, what are you doing here?" I answered with a question of my own, "What was your dream about?" Frankie, looking puzzled, lifted his head and shoulders off the mattress by getting up on his elbows and said, "My dream? Jeez, I don't know. Why?" No sense beating around the clipped-bush so I asked right out, "Was it about Pete?" Frankie thought a second and said, "You mean, Pete, the mailroom kid? No, it was about something to do with me taking a piss and telling somebody not to peek. Something dumb like that. Why'd ya wake me up, Oliver?" "Oh" I said, " I ah, I didn't know what time you wanted to get up." He told me, no matter.... that he had to take the world's biggest piss anyway so it's just as well I got him up and he asked me where the bathroom was. I pointed at my small bedroom bath...the one with the shower that we'd jerked each other off in less than eight hours ago. Frankie jumped out of bed and seemed surprised to discover he was naked .... the fact that he was sporting a huge boner apparently was not a surprise to him. He said, "I slept naked? That's random alright. Oh, wait a minute.... fuck, now it's all coming back to me. Oh no!" and he scurried into the bathroom picking up a pair of boxer briefs off the floor where I'd thrown them last night. He picked-up the pair I'd had on last night. That caused my boner to twitch, but then, what doesn't. I was trying to figure out ...Pete....or peek?? Hmmmm? Speaking of Pete, I couldn't help wondering about his closely cropped pubes and thinking how it wasn't long after Frankie had told me how much he liked his own short pubes..... the very ones I'd cut for Frankie's when we were looking for that splinter. Then a couple hours later I discover Pete's cut pubes ... coincidence? Unlikely, but I couldn't very well bring it up with Frankie or I'd have to say how I knew Pete had clipped pubes in the first place. Curious situation there. After a minute I started to think maybe Frankie was in my bathroom wanking off since I'd given him such a nice head start in that regard before I shook him awake. I put my ear against the door and could hear his loud, strong piss stream hitting the water in the toilet bowl. Guess he did have to take a wild piss after all, but what about that "Oh no!" comment from Frankie when he remembered what we'd done together last night. That reaction can't be a good sign for my case. And balls, what a hangover I've got. I hadn't noticed it while I was enjoying myself playing with the sleeping Frankie .......but now, ohhhh my fucking head. I pulled on the boxers Frankie wore to bed last night and then put on my old bathrobe. Frankie soon came out of the bathroom with a concerned frown on his face, using my toothbrush....... toothpaste drooling out of both corners of his mouth. He talked around the toothbrush and it sounded like, "Don't get the wrong idea about last night, Oliver. OK?". I was beginning to get a really bad feeling about this whole turn of events. He handed me the toothbrush and I absently began brushing my teeth with it, continuing to stare at Frankie. He wouldn't make eye contact. Frankie went back in the bathroom to scoop handfuls of water into his mouth at the sink, rinsing out the toothpaste. I still said nothing, just stared at him and waited nervously for whatever was coming next.. Frankie wandered around adjusting his crotch and then said it was cold in here with the air conditioning so I gave him the bathrobe I was wearing. He mumbled, "Thanks" Frankie's boner had gone down as mine had. My boner had gone down when he'd said "Oh no!"... remembering about last night. I put on a T shirt and flimsy basketball shorts. Finally I picked-up the clothes we'd had on at the picnic and went in the hall to start the washing machine. Frankie followed saying, "Fuck, I'm starved!" I've never seen anybody eat more than Frankie... and he stays just as skinny as me. Trying my best to smile at him slightly I said, "Sure, Frankie...what do ya want?" First, both of us had tall glasses of orange juice and three Tylenol each. We were both suffering from hang-overs and I swore to myself I'd be sure to drink less the next time I was drinking beer....whenever that might be. Pouring himself a huge bowl of Frosted Flakes and milk Frankie said, "That kiddie sex play from last night, Oliver. Ah, you know...mostly booze related with all that fucking beer we had. I guess I wanted to prove to you that I was cool with you telling me you're gay and all. It's a fucking awkward position to be put in, Oliver. Ya know?" I ate some dry toast and just nodded my head. I didn't want to talk about it...especially if we we're going to follow that line of bull shit. At least he didn't pretend he couldn't remember any of it. We both had tea and we ate and drank in silence for a bit. Believe it or not, Frankie crunching those fucking Frosted Flakes, mouthful after mouthful, started to get on my nerves and I pretended to myself, for a minute or so, that I didn't even really like Frankie all that much. He finished off his cereal by drinking the left-over sweet milk right from the bowl and when he put the bowl down I looked at the milk mustache on that cute face of his and thought to myself, "I'm screwed. Who am I kidding. I'm in love with this boy and, sadly, I know I'm not going to get to have him for myself. He's too intent on marrying that cow just so he doesn't have to go back on his word to her. What a fucking shame for him.... and for me." Frankie cocked his head a little and asked, "You cool with what I'm trying to say about last night. You know, that it was childish stuff....you know, doing a circle jerk and sucking on our boners. Guys do that crap when they're thirteen years old and it's a new adventure back then, but now it's just plain embarrassing. Ok, so you're queer and of course you'd take what I was willing to allow, but I was hammered, dude!" In my head I said, "Fuck you, Frankie. You're lying to yourself and you're going to ruin all three of our lives because of it. Yours, mine and the hippo's. You don't hardly like her, never mind love her. The two of you will make each other miserable in the first month of your marriage." That's what I said to myself. What I mumbled to Frankie was, "I'm sorry I forced myself on you. I hope we can still be best buddies again." He said, "It's OK, let's forget about it. Sure, we're best buds. You got any eggs?" I did. Together we made him a three-eggs & cheese omelet, along with three pieces of toast. I had another cup of tea while I watched him eat his second breakfast of the morning....I was feeling very sad and a little sick to my stomach. My life is a roller coaster ride. Big highs followed by astonishingly fast lows. God damn, I really thought I'd hit the jackpot with Frankie, boyfriend-wise, for a few hours there. Frankie went in the bathroom to do more bathroom business and I put our clothes in the dryer. I couldn't make myself start a conversation because I didn't know what to say and I didn't have any enthusiasm for it now anyway. Guess I was pissed-off at Frankie if truth be known and, generally speaking, I was as disappointed as I could ever remember being. Even though I'm mad at him this second, I know I have deep feelings for him which I have to believe is love.....if it's not, then I can't imagine what love is. But love or something else, it don't look like there is any way it's going to turn out good for me. Admitting this to myself, it was no surprise that my eyes started stinging and, yeah, they were stinging with moisture which is sometimes referred to as crying. I made damn sure Frankie didn't see the water works. When he was done in the bathroom he made a telephone call and was very apologetic to the person on the other end of the line. It didn't sound like he was talking to Darleen though. Frankie seemed all shook-up after the phone call, his hands were shaky. He said he forgot he was suppose to work for Darleen's uncle this morning and the uncle was very pissed off. "Can we get going now, Oliver?" he asked me in a quiet way. I couldn't think of another time I'd seen Frankie so jumpy. As soon as the clothes were dry he put his on and we headed out to his uncle's place. It sure as hell didn't feel like we were best buds during the ride. We drove with the top down..... the traffic and wind noise at 70 mph made it almost impossible to carry on a conversation. This was convenient, actually, because I had a strong feeling that neither of us had anything worthwhile to say. What a disastrous conclusion to the best day and night of my life. I had thought we were beginning something wondrous together and then Frankie explains we weren't 'beginning' something, we were ending it.. that's a mighty big difference alright. So, I guess you could say at this particular moment I'm on a roller coaster ride flying all the way down to hell. Frankie directed me to an off ramp and then we turned this way and that way with me trying to memorize each turn so I'd be able to get back to the highway after dropping Frankie off. Now that we were on quiet secondary streets we could talk and Frankie told me he had to work off some money he owed this guy, Fallon. Fallon wasn't actually Darleen's uncle, but rather a friend that her uncle had introduced Frankie to last year. "To make a long story short", Frankie explained, "this guy is a bookie and I stupidly lost a bet on an NCAA tournament game last March and then doubled-up on it and lost that too and so on. Terrible bad luck, but what it means is I owe the guy $1200. I do not have $1200 so he's letting me work it off." Frankie told me all this while talking very fast .....like he could not wait to get it over with. I asked what kind of work, but Frankie wouldn't say exactly. He said, "Personal stuff and running some errands, that sort of thing." Frankie said Fallon had a super, up-scale condo in town, but he preferred conducting his business out of a ratty looking trailer.... which is where we were headed. The neighborhood got nasty real quick and Frankie finally instructed me to turn down a gravel side road which made for a very bumpy ride in the Mini Cooper. Around a bend and there they were.... eight or ten run-down looking trailers, all up on cinder blocks. Trash blowing around and an unpleasant cesspool smell which was quite prevalent. I made a face like "what stinks?" and Frankie said, "Yeah, ain't it lovely. Pull in at the third trailer on the left, Oliver." I pulled up slowly and a man was walking towards us as I did. Frankie and I are 5' 9" and this guy was a little taller than that, but he was at least 90 pounds heavier than us with a commodious paunch. I'd say he was in his late thirties, deep tan, bald dome. His remaining hair, starting quite low on the sides and back of his head, was dark and long enough to collect in a ponytail that drooped past his shoulder blades. Very full sideburns traveled toward a soft looking jawline. He was wearing John Lennon glasses on his beak nose and both his chins bounced as he quickly walked toward the car. He was wearing a cream colored, cashmere blazer and chocolate brown slacks with mesh loafers. I counted six gold rings, three on each hand, with a fat gold chain hanging above an open necked dark-blue, collared shirt. The overall image was Ben Franklin in Italian clothes. He was showing an obviously fake smile with scorn dancing across his thin lips. Frankie had been nervously fumbling with the seat belt and was just barely able to get himself standing up when this guy, Fallon, arrived at the car. Fallon pulled his arm back and Frankie covered his face with both his hands as that meaty paw of Fallon's swung around and smacked the back of Frankie's head so hard Frankie's glasses flew off his face and landed on the dashboard of my car. Frankie goes, "I'm sorry." I was shocked and could only mutter, "Hey, don't do that" as Fallon swung again and got Frankie on Frankie's right hand, which was partially covering his face. Fallon grunted out, "Could you fucking take any longer getting here, Nerney? I had to do two deliveries myself you dumb shit. You are going to do an extra favor for me as soon as we get inside. Aren't you, cute lips?" Frankie kept saying he was sorry, but that his car had broken down and he had to call me for a ride. Fallon was breathing hard and his face was red as he swung his hand again, this time slapping the top of Frankie's head..SMACK! . As far as Fallon was concerned I didn't even exist. He got Frankie behind the neck with his big, meaty left hand and started dragging him toward the trailer. I moved my mouth, but nothing came out. I couldn't have been more astonished if a space ship landed in front of me...this behavior was so far out of my range of experiences I was aghast. Up the three steps Fallon dragged Frankie and inside they went with the trailer's over-sized aluminum door banging three times against the side of the trailer after Fallon's attempt to slam it shut behind him.. I sat there dazed, my heart pounding with fright. What to do? I heard loud shouting from inside the trailer, but I couldn't make-out the words. Looking over I saw Frankie's glasses on the dash board and I slowly picked them up and even more slowly got out of the car. Frankie needed these glasses...he was very near-sighted. My heart tried to pound itself out of my chest as I walked, at a snail's pace, toward that trailer door. Up the steps and a tentative knock on the door. Silence inside now. I heard some rustling around, then Frankie, on the other side of the door, peeks out and sees me. He buttoned his shorts with one hand and opened the door a crack with the other. I could see a bright red hand print on the side of his face. He had tears in his eyes and he didn't even bother to try to hide them. When the door was opened a crack he held it opened with his hip and absently pulled what appeared to be a short, black hair off his lip. I couldn't speak. Lifting the glasses in Frankie's direction, I continued to silently stare at the red hand print on the side of Frankie's cute face. Everything seemed in slow-motion until he took the eyeglasses gently from my hand....then, in a fast, low whisper Frankie said, "Don't worry, Oliver. Fallon lost his temper, that's all.....but he's fine now. I got to get back to him..., I mean get back to work for him or, that is ....look, I'll see you tomorrow. Please, please don't tell anyone about this or you'll really get me in trouble" and he closed the door. Did he say "get back to him"? That sounded kinda weird. With a puzzled look on my face I backed away and, in a trance-like state, I walked to my car. I got in, started the engine and slowly backed into the driveway that was directly across from Fallon's trailer so I could turn around and get the fuck out of there. I wasn't at all sure what I could do about this situation, but I knew that getting out of there would be step one. I backed into Fallon's neighbor's gravel driveway and immediately two big, mangy, black and brown dogs with big heads roamed in behind me growling. A cold chill went up my back as they slowly walked in unison towards my car. I kept backing up. The biggest dog spotted something that looked like a half a cat sticking out of a shrub and grabbed it in his long, yellow teeth and shook his head violently. The other dog started to grab for the thing and they began to fight with each other over whatever-the-fuck that thing was. The scary, throaty growling and teeth gnashing at each other had me almost wetting my pants. I fumbled around trying to hit the button that puts the convertible top up as that dogfight accelerated. The big problem I had now was..... they were blocking my way out of the driveway. I blew the Mini's horn repeatedly at the dogs and shortly an old, gnarled woman with scraggly white hair and a white mustache came storming out of the trailer. She was wearing an old house dress that I could almost see through, waving a big, old rusty rake and as she leaned over the railing of her trailer's front step she yelled, "Get that piece of shit car out of my fucking driveway or I'll come over there with this rake..." I immediately drove off the gravel driveway, over a weedy-looking vegetable garden and, with that old bitch screeching in the background and with lots of gravel flying back towards her from my rear tires, I roared out of that shit hole with the back of the Mini swerving from side to side as I bumped up onto the trailer park's main gravel road. When I reached the blacktop road I realized I'd been shouting "Fuck you" over and over as loud as I could yell. I stopped doing that and made the correct left turn, burning rubber getting the Mini Cooper S up to speed . Sweat pouring off my face with my heart beating faster than a hummingbirds'. What a cluster fuck that entire experience had been. Holy shit, what had Frankie gotten himself involved with? Driving home I couldn't think of anything better to do about this scary situation then what Frankie had begged me to do.....which is basically, do nothing. At home later on I was still shaky and told my folks I thought I was coming down with a summer cold or something. After a bowl of tomato soup and a 16 ounce coke I went to bed early. I had a good nights sleep thankfully and was at work Monday morning hoping to talk with Frankie, but he wasn't in yet. It really worried me when he didn't show. Thank God he called me on the cafe telephone line shortly before our 8:15 starting time. He was on his way now and he asked me to punch-in his time card for him. I punched him in as if he were on time and when Rocky came around a little later I told him Frankie was in the shitter. We talked about how much fun the picnic had been and then off Rocky goes to BS his way through another work day. Frankie made it in around 9:00am and he looked fine. I was relieved and hugged him. I'd temporarily forgotten about our conversation Sunday morning. It seems hugging was still Ok anyway, because Frankie held on to me for an extra beat or two. I glanced at his face with a questioning look on my face and Frankie, in a gentle way said, "Let's not talk about anything right now. OK?" I nodded my head and squeezed his shoulder. When Frankie wasn't paying attention I tried to see if he had any bruises on his neck or if he was hurt in some other way. He looked pretty much like he always looked except he had a bruise on either side of his neck where Fallon had hold of him when he was dragging Frankie to the trailer. My next concern was to wonder if Frankie might still be willing to do our spit swapping this afternoon ...ya can't say I don't have an optimist's outlook. After all our fellow blue collar workers had finished their morning break with the cafe truck on the loading dock, Frankie and me had our break. We liked to do our breaks alone. We were each making ourselves a cup of coffee in the cafe when I asked, "When do ya think we can talk about everything that happened yesterday, Frankie?" He put his coffee down and said, "Give it a fucking rest! Can you ever stop butting into my life, Oliver?" He had that crying-sounding voice and he stormed outside to sit on the loading dock with his back against the building. I stood there in the cafe holding my coffee and watched him go. Sadly I shook my head back and forth once then sat down and thought about crying myself. I decided not to although it was a close call. As hard as I tried I couldn't think of a clever way to approach Frankie so fuck it...I took my coffee and picked-up Frankie's coffee and went out on the dock. "You want this, Frankie?" I asked him as I held out his coffee cup. He didn't look at me but he said, "Yeah, sorry." He took the cup and then fired up a cigarette. I got my pack of Marlboro Lights out and lit one too...... we smoked and drank our coffee sitting side by side with our backs leaning up against that big building...in silence. The sun just reached over the top of the truck we were unloading and hit our faces feeling warm and somehow comforting. We both finished with the last drag on our cigarettes and, almost simultaneously, we flicked our smoking butts toward a large metal trash drum ten feet away and both butts went right in the open top. Frankie and I looked at each other with a look on our faces that said, "That's cool", we bumped our fist together lightly and grinned at each other some more. Frankie took our empty coffee cups inside and we went back to our unloading and storage responsibilities..... with very little conversation. It was an odd feeling because every other day we're talking and joking and laughing the day away. Now I was just happy for that little grin I got from Frankie at the end of break. As the morning turned into early afternoon Frankie became more relaxed and would give a quick squeeze to the back of my neck or pat my butt or give me a nice little smile as we worked together in the hot summer weather. Just before lunch we were inside the truck bed taking an item out of it's cardboard box when I stopped working and said, "Frankie, this is a fucking emergency and I'm not kidding." He looked up at me with a concerned look on his face and I continued with, "I need a fucking hug, Frankie. Right now or I might get sick to my stomach right here all over these boxes." He gave a little grin and opened his arms and inside of them I went. I don't know who was hugging who the hardest, but it sure felt as good as anything I could think of. The hug was working out pretty good, with the sides of our faces together, so I rubbed my lips across his cheek which caused Frankie to pull his head away from mine just a little. He said, "Give me some time to sort things out in my head. OK, Oliver." I said, "OK", but I kissed him anyway. He didn't kiss back, but he didn't pull away either and I think I felt the beginning of a boner in Frankie's jeans so I hoped I'd made a start for us on our road back together. Maybe Frankie saw it that way too. We worked another half hour, mostly in silence, and then Frankie said we should probably eat our lunch now. Long ago we'd given up on the main cafeteria because it was too far from the loading dock and we felt it was a little too pricey for us. Plus, just like for our breaks, we preferred to eat lunch just the two of us.... whenever possible. Our mothers made our lunches each morning....... like we were school kids again. In the cafe we took our brown bags out of the mini refrigerator and sat down together at the small round table. I flipped a coin to see who bought the drinks and I lost. Doing those kinds of things, ones that had become routine for us over the last six weeks was a nice feeling. I bought us bottles of Snapple from the vending machine and we looked into our lunch bags. "What ya got Oliver?" Frankie asked and I said, "Egg salad on bulky roll. How bout you?" He said, "Tuna and tomato on toast." We exchanged sandwiches without another word. It was so odd for the two of us to have this quiet time together. Usually we were both talking at each other at the same time... or making each other spit his sandwich out by saying something outlandish... or making a face or pretending to pick our nose while eating our sandwich or any crazy thing you can think of. Now we ate in silence. In the silence I was looking down reading the label on my Snapple bottle and when I looked up Frankie was staring at me. I said, "What?" and with his mouth full of egg salad sandwich Frankie said, "Don't get the wrong idea, but I believe you are the cutest looking guy I've ever seen." I squinted my eyes and half made a face expecting some smart-ass remark to follow, but instead Frankie added, "Actually I'm just stating the obvious. I mean, fuck...you look in mirrors don't ya." I just shook my head with my mouth working, but with no words coming out.....a condition I find myself in regularly when I'm with Frankie. After what we'd just been through Sunday morning and today, this has to be one of the last things in the world I would have expected Frankie to say. I'd have to go way back to my days with Tyler to come up with anyone as unpredictable as Frankie. There are any number of things about my deceased childhood friend, Tyler, that Frankie reminds me of every day. It's a little scary sometimes, but also wonderful and emotional for me too. I could feel my eyes stinging and my lip trying to tremble ....not just because Frankie said something sweet to me, but also because it had reminded me so forcefully of Tyler. Frankie had made his statement and he went back to eating his lunch..... which was actually my lunch. I bit my lip and waited for that stinging feeling to leave my eyes and then I said, "Not to put too fine a point on this, but I've always felt you were the cutest boy I've ever seen and as you've said, I have looked in a mirror so that includes me too. But, don't take that the wrong way." Frankie shook his head with a wry grin on his face and mumbled, "I don't have any fucking idea why I just said that dumb-ass gay thing to you about being cute, but, ..I guess I mean it. You got me crazy Oliver, you really do." He said it in a way that didn't seem like he meant it angrily so I said, "Good" and we finished each others lunch and went back to work. We were back in the cafe at 3:30 for our afternoon break drinking cokes and talking more easily with each other. Frankie didn't want to talk about him and me or about Fallon and the money he owed...... we talked about other stuff like Frankie and Darleen heading back for their sophomore year at West Chester University in September. We talked about that university being only a one hour drive from the University Of Pennsylvania where I'll be going. We talked about what we'd be doing after this job was finished. I told Frankie my plan to visit my brother in Seattle. I'd already made the reservation using the plane ticket Christian had given be at the beginning of the Summer, but I haven't told Christian about that. I'm planning to just show up and surprise him. Frankie, in a dejected manner, told me he's be working full time for Fallon until college started. We talked about stuff like that. Just before we left for the day I told Frankie how much I missed swapping spit with him and he reminded me that he was trying to work through things in his head and that I should be patient, but maybe not too optimistic about the spit swapping. He said, by way of explaining his comment, that way back when we'd started the spit swapping we were intent on seeing how bizarre we could be and see how much fun we could have with it...all just for the laughs.....but then later, maybe we let it get out of hand. After this little lecture he ruffled my hair when we said goodbye for the day, so the hair ruffling was the high point of that exchange. Fuck it...I'm going to be optimistic about future spit swapping no matter what Frankie says. We got more into our old joking ways Tuesday and Wednesday with some goosing and goofing and such. Some good old ass grabbing too and some type of bodily contact that most people would call hugging, but by the end of work Thursday there was still nothing in the way of kissing or spit swapping. We walked out of work together Thursday heading for the parking lot ...... me trying to think of a way to mention again about the spit swapping. Finally, without a better plan, I grabbed Frankie as he was getting in his car and with my arm around his neck I said, "God damn, Frankie, lets do some of our famous spit swapping before this gig ends next Friday. What do ya say, dude?"" Frankie's body had felt taut as a steel spring when I first put my arm around his neck, but right after I'd said my piece he relaxed and, probably to change the subject he ran his fingers through the hair on the back of my head and said, "You need a haircut, Oliver." I told him I was thinking about waiting until college started so I could have Alexander give me a haircut. Frankie asked me in a real quiet voice if Alexander and me were going to pick-up where we left off in Wildwood...he finished with, "I mean about being gay together" . In an equally quiet voice I replied, "Not if you don't want me to." Frankie thought about that for a few seconds and apparently decided to by-pass that too and return to my original topic.... he said, "If you promise not to let us get too carried away, we'll do our world famous spit swapping tomorrow ........ just like we use to do. OK, Oliver." I said, "OK, Frankie." He rubbed my head some more and said, "OK then" and I let go of him. We waved at each other as we drove off and Frankie had on that beautiful smile of his. Oh boy, spit swapping tomorrow. My boner ached just like in the old days. There was something else interesting that had been developing this week. It seems like my suspicion about Frankie and the mailroom kid being an item were unfounded because the mailroom kid apparently has a crush on your's truly. Monday morning while I was waiting for Frankie to get to work Pete comes around to have coffee with me. That's a first. As usual, he's real shy and won't make eye contact when he says good morning and asked did I mind if he had coffee here. I told him to grab a cup and keep me company. We're sitting at the little cafe table with me trying to make small talk to loosen Pete up and before I know whats happening he picked up my hand and put my fingers in his mouth and sucks them like he'd done Saturday at the picnic.....right after I'd jerked him off. While he's licking my fingers his head is down, but I see that he's shyly looking up at me with his eyes up at the top of his sockets. His face is bright red and he's fidgeting like mad. I smiled at him and kind of chuckled while letting him do what he wanted with my hand. Frankly, it started giving me a boner to top all boners. Pete's long curly hair was hanging down and hiding a lot of his face, but his huge brown eyes looking up at me were shining. He sucked on my fingers for a full minute and then gently placed my limp hand back on the little cafe table we were sitting at. My hand was limp, but not my cock. Pete didn't say anything and neither did I. All week after that he's been showing up around the loading dock. Tuesday he started asking me to rub his hair for good luck. When I do it he pushes against my hand with his head like he did at the picnic and today, Thursday, in a voice I could hardly hear, he asked me if I thought I could do to him what I did to him at the picnic again sometime. I hugged him to me and said, "You bet, Pete. That was fun, wasn't it, Dude?" He nodded his head yes and said, "When do ya think you could do it?" I told him we'd work something out. I had Frankie on my mind so much that I didn't want to get distracted, but once Frankie and me are tight again it might be fun to have some play time with that shy little fellow with the big cock. We'll see how that goes, but right at the moment I'm excited about the spit swapping with Frankie that's coming up tomorrow morning. In the morning it was raining hard when I woke up and the forecast was for more of the same all day. Rain appears to cause people to forget how to drive. They do stupid things and big traffic jams occur. I was almost late getting to work and as a result I had to park further away than normal, but I had spit swapping on my mind and so the rain and these other little annoyances were of no real concern to me. Running for the building in the rain I got pretty wet which was no concern to me either, but then I saw something that could be a real concern to me. It was the little group of people in our cafe that I saw through the glass door as I ran up to it. Usually there is either nobody or just Frankie there when I come in. Today it was Frankie, Rocky and the two regular loading dock guys, Howard and Bart. The fuck do they want? I got a big "Hello" from everyone and a look from Frankie that indicated something not too cool was happening, but "what-are-you-gonna-do?. Here's what the not too cool thing was...... the two regular guys would be working on the loading dock with Frankie and me all morning. We'd all be working on a special truck unload that was due to arrive any minute. All five of us would unload this truck so that the driver could be back on the road by 1pm. I shook my head a little because what else can you do? Shit happens. No spit swapping this morning, but we still had this afternoon and I was determined to make the best of the situation then. Howard and Bart are big strong guys in their thirties, both married and both originally from the South. They are 100% "Mayberry USA" types with their "golly-gee" this and "gosh darn" that, but damn nice guys. Bart was telling this tale he said he'd just heard about. Seems this guy in Mississippi runs into the corner store and yells to his friend, "Bubba, some asshole just stole your pick-up truck from right out front da store!" Bubba says, "Did ya see who it were?" His friend proudly replies, "I couldn't tell who the fucker is, but I got the license number wrote down right here on my arm." Well, at the punch line those guys go into hysterically laughter and leg slapping with Rocky, Frankie and me chuckling and exchanging looks and smirks at the yahoos' exuberant reaction to the corny joke. Howard is from Mississippi which is why Bart told the joke in the first place. Bart's from Tennessee and Howard's got a story right back at him. He says, "This here Tennessee State Trooper pulls over a Tennessee hayseed who was driving his jalopy about 15 mile an hour, on the wrong side of the highway. The trooper comes up to the driver's window and asked, "Got any ID?" The hayseed scratches his head and says, "Bout whut?" HAHAHA !! Oh my God they go into convulsions, both of them laying their heads on the cafe table pounding it and carrying on something awful. It was sad, but good too...good that guys could so easily entertain themselves. Just as the fellows were sitting up and getting their laughter under control the special truckload pulls up to the loading dock and Rocky says, "Oops. Time for me to head on out of here before I accidentally lift something and get this crotch rot acting up again." As he quick walks away groping his crotch and yelling something about assholes that none of us could catch. Frankie says, "Guess, Rocky is on his way to the main cafeteria for his real morning break." "Yup, yup, yup" said Howard. Off we go. Man oh man, Howard and Bart can really work...I got to give them their props. They each carried stuff off the truck themselves that Frankie and I would be helping each other get on a dolly, never mind carrying. Around 11:30 Rocky came back down and saw our progress. He was pleased, but we'd done too good a job as it turns out because Rocky reassigned Bart and Howard back to inside duty saying that Frankie and me could finish on time without the other two. "Good job, boys." and off went Rocky with Bart and Howard in tow. The rain hadn't let up and both Frankie and I were pretty wet from working on the portion of the loading dock that wasn't under the over-hang. We finished before 1pm and the driver took off so we had our lunch and went back to our regular responsibilities. During lunch hour there was a potential for too many people wandering in and out of the cafe via the loading dock which prevented Frankie and me from spit swapping. That left me looking forward to some swapping during our afternoon break when it's always just Frankie and me....sweet! As afternoon break got closer I started breathing in little short bursts looking over at Frankie with anticipation. I was getting impatient thinking about how we hadn't tasted each other's spit in almost a week. My heart was going bump, bump, bump and my dick was semi-hard thinking about what was coming up. I missed the feel and taste and smell of him more than I can explain. It was a physical thing...a real, honest to God "need" I had. Ever since Cristobal had exposed me to the reality of sex with another boy I really, really needed it, but I wasn't actually getting much of it. A lot of teasing and "almosts', but not much real action. At one point I had to stop working for a second and try to get myself composed. There was a kind of scary feeling in the pit of my stomach too. Frankie, with his short red hair flattened against his head by the rain and looking even younger then usual, came over to me in the truck bed and asked if I was alright. He said I was pale. I looked up at his sincerely-concerned face and fell into him with my arms around his waist saying, "I miss being with you, Frankie. I know you don't want to hear this, but I love you. I love you so much." My heart was pounding as Frankie wrapped his arms around me and rocked me back and forth sideways in a nice hug. He kissed the side of my neck and said, "I know, Oliver. I know." He held me for a minute or so and then he pulled my chin up with the palm of his hand and our lips kissed together and my cock got as hard as it can get. Frankie put his tongue in my mouth and licked my tongue, slowly he scrapped saliva off his tongue against the bottom of my top teeth until I had to swallow a mouthful of his spit. I licked back at his mouth and we French kissed until I felt that big cock of Frankie's, all boned-up, pressing against the inside of his dungaree shorts...the head of it reaching to the very top of the short's waistband. I moaned and we moved our noses back and forth against each other and then Frankie licked up the front of my nose and down on my chin and on my neck right under my chin. I was gasping for breath with my boner leaking as I humped up against his leg. He reached down and undid the top snap on my cargo shorts so he could put his hand in my boxers and stroked my cock using his thumb , index finger and middle finger....just like he did in the shower last Saturday night. After six strokes I fired off a hard string of cum in my boxers and I almost collapsed with the follow-up shots as I squealed out a sound I'd never made before. Frankie pulled out his hand and put his fingers, covered with my cum, in my mouth and I sucked them clean with a flickering image of Pete doing the same thing to my fingers. When I was breathing regularly again Frankie put his hands on my shoulders with some subtle pressure and I went down on my knees and pulled his dungaree shorts over his slim hips without even unbuttoning them. Any thoughts of Pete was long gone. Frankie let out a long, "Oooooh" and I pulled down his jockey shorts and buried my nose in his crotch. I licked his belly and stroked his big, long boner. I licked his balls like a dog. My wet tongue started way under his scrotum and then continued around and up the front of it with laps that moved his nuts around in their sac continually. My hands rubbed up and down his thin, strong, hairless thighs, from his crotch to his knees and back....slowly, over and over. When those big nuts of Frankies' were dripping with my saliva I stopped rubbing his legs and used both my hands to push both his fat nuts in my mouth. Oh my God, I just managed to get them in. It gagged me at first, but I quickly got used to it and I worked my tongue on the underside of his balls as best I could. Frankie went, "Aaaaaaaah.... Ohhh!" I was stroking his boner along with all the sucking and I could feel his balls tighten-up noticeably in my mouth. More sucking and stroking until cum exploded from his nuts up that long pole of Frankie's, first shooting straight up in the air, then gravity took over and that big load of cum came right back down and landed in my wet hair and forehead..mixing with the rain on my face, his cum drooled down to finally drip, drip, drip off the side of my chin. I struggled to get Frankie's nuts out of my mouth so I could breathe again. Frankie was holding onto my head with both hands going, "Ah Ah Ah Ah" with each spurt of cum. When his nuts were empty we plopped down on the floor of the truck and put our arms around each other. In a minute or so Frankie said, "You went too far again, Oliver." I said, "I know. I'm sorry, but I can't resist you." Frankie sort of patted my wet head like I actually was a dog and then just barely above a whisper he said, "What am I going to do, Oliver?" I shook my head slowly from side to side and thought to myself, "What, indeed." We'd missed out on each other for almost a whole week so our reunion hadn't lasted very long...we shot off our cum loads quickly, but the sensations had been enormous and the after shock was this feeling of exhaustion we were both experiencing. We sat there holding onto each other for a few minutes until I said, "How bout we go in the cafe for a coke?" Frankie said, "Oliver, FYI, you have my cum in your hair... it's also running down your face. Plus, you have a big load of your own cum in your fucking cargo shorts. Perhaps, clean-up the cum first..... and then the coke. Huh?" We both started giggling and it turned into a hysterical laughing jag reminiscent of Howard and Bart's... so who are we to make a face and smirk at them. I mentioned that thought to Frankie and this got us laughing and slapping our thighs like the Southern guys did. We were back to our old selves there for a while. I cleaned up in the lavatory as best I could, but with my rain-soaked clothes there wasn't too much I could do. During our break we more or less just stared at each other, not sure what to say. The rest of the afternoon dragged to a finish and we did our old-time hug goodbye for the weekend. Frankie had already told me he was taking Darleen to a water park on Saturday and to a Pirates baseball game on Sunday so I didn't even think about him and me getting together. My own self proclaimed girlfriend, Pattie, was a little bit mad at me for not seeing her all week, but she couldn't make too much of a big deal about it because of that drunken throw-up demonstration at the picnic. She didn't want me bringing that up. I figured I'd take her to the movies Saturday night, but tonight I wanted to go out with a couple of guys from the swim team. I wasn't sure if Frankie and me were back to last Saturday night level or just back to spit swapping or what......this afternoon was pretty nice, I knew that for sure, but longer range implications were, as always with Frankie, vague. With Frankie I never knew what the next day would bring...he was obviously confused about what he should do, but we both knew who he wanted....we wanted each other. Getting Frankie to accept that fact was another matter all together. He didn't want to disappoint Darleen or me....... hell, Frankie doesn't want to disappoint anybody ever, except he doesn't seem to mind disappointing himself. Well I'll have all next week to try and help Frankie see the light. Tonight I'm off to attend a bachelor party for the assistant swimming coach of my high school swim team that I was a member of for the last three years. Tomorrow night Pattie and me to the movies. Sounds boring when all I really want is to be with Frankie. to be continued...... Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com