Chasing Rusty Parker Ch. 11
By Laura S. Fox
Copyright © 2022 Laura S. Fox
All Rights Reserved
Gay Erotica
Intended for Mature Audiences Only
This story will contain graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, strong
language and it is not meant for readers who are less than 18 years of age.
Consider making a donation to Nifty by clicking the little blue button
on the front page, as they help us all enjoy so many great stories, while
aiding authors like me to display their work.
~
Chasing Rusty Parker is the sequel to my story Good Guys Don't Date Bad
Boys that you can also find here, on Nifty.
~
Chapter Eleven Do You
Ever Dream Of Cat Boys?
Matty played with the
straw by pushing it to hit the bottom of his glass and watching it being pushed
back by the laws of physics.
"It looks to me like
you're developing a little bit of an obsession," Rusty said, stopping his mind
from wandering.
"What obsession?"
Rusty grinned. "It's a
bit loose, but I think it's about penetration." He pointed at Matty's glass.
"We'll get to that in our lessons."
Talking about penetration
over breakfast at a fast-food place near campus seemed an unlikely way to begin
the day, but there they were, and Matty couldn't say that he was surprised.
With Rusty, everything was new, fun, exciting, and by laws of nature yet to be
discovered, naturally surprising.
"So," Rusty continued
without waiting for a reaction from him, and taking a large bite out of his
hamburger, "what's your type?"
"My type?" Matty dallied.
He needed to tread carefully. If Rusty began guessing that Matty was crushing
on him, all bets would be off, for sure. That would make things awkward between
them. Therefore, he needed to play it cool but without appearing like a
pathological liar. "I'm flexible, I think."
"Hmm." Rusty examined him
with his intense green eyes.
Matty licked his lips and
looked away, and then sipped at his soda, pretending that everything was
normal. Yeah, right. He had spent the night in the guy's bed. The temptation to
shout his victory from the top of his lungs was high, but the logical part of
his brain took over. "What's the `hmm' for?"
"You're flexible, and
yet, not one guy has ever been good enough for you. Are you like one of those
chicks with a list?" Rusty asked.
Yes, if the list said,
tall, blond, kinky, and his name was Rusty Parker. Of course, Matty needed at
least a couple of pages to list everything he liked about Rusty, but in a
nutshell, that was it. "What kind of list?" he dallied again.
"You know, no older than
twenty-seven, playing the piano like Liszt, seven feet tall, in possession of a
chauffeur and an army of help, battle scars from his stint in a third world
country where he saved a bunch of kids from hunger while learning another the
seventh foreign language... do you need me to continue?"
"I don't have a list like
that," Matty said.
Rusty continued to
examine him with narrowed eyes.
"What? I don't," Matty
insisted.
"You're not getting
away," Rusty warned him. "We'll do a short quiz. But you'll have to answer
without thinking. If you take too long, I'll discard the answer."
"What if I say `no'?"
"We'll be here all day,"
Rusty threatened.
"Fine." Matty sighed. "Go
ahead."
"Hair color?" Rusty began
immediately.
"Blond." Matty wanted to
bite his tongue.
"Eye color?"
"Green." Fuck, he needed
to think ahead if he wanted to fool Rusty. If he asked about height, he'd say
average.
"Top or bottom?" Rusty
wasn't playing by the rules.
"Both."
"Excellent answer.
Momma's boy or the apple of daddy's eye?"
"Just eye candy is
enough."
"Smartass," Rusty said
under his breath. "Do you ever dream of cat boys?"
"What?" That was a
question he hadn't expected.
"I'll take that as a
`no'," Rusty said and seemed slightly disappointed.
"I like cats," Matty
offered, although he felt like the moment was lost.
"How would you feel,"
Rusty said slowly, his eyes on Matty as if he wanted to hypnotize him, "about
wearing a cat's tail?"
Matty swallowed hard.
"How would I do that?"
"You know." Rusty leaned
back in his seat. "Sex shops carry this stuff. Fluffy tails attached to butt
plugs. I think they'd look good on you."
"I don't know," Matty
murmured and searched for help in his soda glass once more.
"It's all right. How
would you feel about making out with a cat boy?"
"You mean, someone who
cosplays?" Matty asked cautiously.
"Yeah. Some pretty guy,
not some alley cat," Rusty assured him.
Matty had a distinct
feeling that he knew what kind of cat he liked best, as he looked into Rusty's
mischievous green eyes. "I think I'd take the alley cat any day," he said in a
heartbeat.
That earned him a
surprised, yet pleased look from Rusty. "You don't mind getting down and dirty,
do you, Matty?"
With
you, any moment of the day or night.
"Why haven't you hooked
up with anyone?" Rusty continued his string of questions.
"I like the boyfriend
type of thing better," Matty replied promptly.
Rusty grinned, as if he
was pleased by that answer. "So, why no boyfriend?"
Matty frowned, trying to
form a reply that didn't say Because I've been
crushing on you since freshman year. "I guess the right person hasn't come
along or something."
"A-ha," Rusty said and
pointed his paper napkin at Matty. "You do have a list. That's why no guy is
good enough. There's no such thing as the perfect guy, I'm telling you. If you
meet someone who seems perfect, something must be wrong with him. Something you
can't tell at first."
"Like what?"
"Like, his feet smell
bad," Rusty replied immediately. "Or he doubles at night as a stripper and
can't get it up, unless you stuff his skimpy underwear with one-dollar bills."
"Kind of a cheap
stripper, but okay," Matty admitted the argument. "Wait, did you meet guys like
that?"
"I've never looked for a
guy," Rusty said with a shrug. "But if I had, I bet I would've found some
strippers."
"Loving your confidence,"
Matty said tersely. "Why cat boys?" he decided to ask a question of his own.
Rusty pursed his lips for
a moment, but then he smiled. "Do you read Xpress?"
"Sometimes. When it's
about Rusty Parker being into cat boys." That was a bit of a lie. Zoey was the
one busy keeping him updated on everything the gossip rag had to say about
Rusty.
"Well," Rusty began while
stretching and putting his hands behind his head, "how much time do you have?"
Matty grinned. Rusty
always liked a challenge, so he rose to the occasion. "Until I finish these
fries." To show that he meant business, he grabbed one and dipped it in ketchup.
"Well, for starters, they
don't mind showing everything," Rusty said.
Matty grabbed two fries
and stuffed them in his mouth.
"I mean, you've seen how
tight those costumes are? They need the perfect body for that kind of thing.
And, it's like they're basically sex on legs, I mean paws, but because they
need to behave like cats, they have to pretend that they don't want it."
"Want what?" Matty
stuffed his face with more fries.
Rusty leaned over the
table. "They're dudes," he whispered, "and they want to be petted on the butt."
"Just like gay guys,"
Matty pointed out.
"Nah, nah, you're missing
the point. Boy, you have an appetite. Slow down."
"Right." Matty didn't
know whether to grab all the fries and gobble them down, or to endure hearing
all about cat boys and why Rusty liked them. The chances were that he wasn't any
of that, at all.
"What they want is
hidden," Rusty continued to explain. "But it's also on display."
"Very confusing." Matty
eyed the last two fries. "How's that attractive?"
Rusty grinned again. "You
can make them admit it. You can grab them by the tail, smother them in your
arms," he illustrated his point by hugging himself, "and then, at one point,
they sigh, and they realize that they cannot escape. And that they actually
like it a lot. And then, they look at you, like, `don't stop petting me or I'll
scratch your face'. Do you get it now?"
"Wouldn't be easier to
get a cat?" Matty suggested, down to the last fry now.
Rusty waved. "Nope. I
want a life-size one. I want to pet him and smother him and pull at his tail to
annoy him. It just makes things interesting. You can finish that now."
Matty took the fried
slice of potato and looked at it. "Nah. I want to hear more about cat boys."
Rusty surprised him by
snatching the fry from his fingers with his mouth. Then, he leaned back and
chewed, pleased with himself.
"Are you going to come to
the game next Saturday?" Rusty asked, changing tack.
"I wouldn't miss it for
the world," Matty said. "Hey, you know there's a live one around here, right? A
cat boy?"
Rusty seemed pensive,
while Matty waited with bated breath. "So they say," he eventually replied.
Matty didn't know what to
make of that. Why wasn't Rusty bragging about meeting the cat boy? And that
would have been his chance to learn what Rusty really thought of Slicky Coolplums. Although,
again, maybe not. Rusty didn't let on more than he wanted to.
Right now, he wasn't
being honest, and Matty felt disappointed for some reason.
"Done?" Rusty asked.
"Thanks for the food, man. And don't forget about the game."
"We're going to see each
other before then. You can remind me again," Matty joked.
Rusty shook his head.
"We'll have to skip our Friday thing."
"Yeah, of course. The
game is more important."
"It's not that," Rusty
said, but then looked away as if he regretted saying too much. "See you then,
Matty. Don't let me down," he added in a playful tone.
Matty just nodded. Why
did it feel like Rusty had cracked open a window, only to slam the door in his
face? Maybe it was just his imagination. He was overthinking each and every one
of Rusty's actions and words. And that wasn't healthy.
***
The annoying part of
having his dad attend the game on Saturday wasn't his mere presence, although
that was on the list, too. It was everything that came with it, his dad's
insistence, his own resistance to whatever the man wanted for him, but without
telling it to his face.
Everything was a barter
between them. Do you want that new shiny toy, son? Shoot that ball. Do you want
me to visit more often? Shoot that ball and be a man. Do you want me to tell
you that I love you? Nah, the thought didn't even cross his dad's mind, ever.
Rusty doubted Roy Parker really loved anyone, in the sense that he had seen other
people doing it. Everything was a strategy with him. He had married Rusty's mom
young, and he had considered that a mistake for a long time. Rusty didn't dare
to go as far as to ask if he was included in that mistake, because he feared
that he knew the answer. Going for validation of that guess wasn't at the top
of his list.
His dad had a new family
because the woman lived where he worked now, and he needed someone to take care
of the house. Someone to have other kids with, because perpetuating his genes
had to be somewhere on a list. Rusty had two younger half-siblings he rarely
saw, a nine-year-old boy and a seven-year-old girl. He didn't need to be that
good at math to know when the boy must have been conceived. A little before his
mom and dad had divorced. That said a lot about Roy Parker and his penchant for
solid planning. Since it was so important for him to come home after work to a
warm home-cooked meal and a woman who didn't have any other purpose in life but
to serve him, he had made sure to replace Rusty's mom with someone who fit the
bill a lot better.
Words muttered under his
breath had said a lot about what Roy Parker thought about his first wife. That
hadn't been a well-planned choice. Sharon was a fragile soul his words when
he was nice too inclined toward self-inspection to be practical. Therefore, they
were a bad match and had been so from the start.
Rusty shook his head. He
was letting his dad get to him without even being present, and that sucked.
Even late in his teenage years he had hoped that his dad would come back and
admit to having made a mistake. And that he would also assume responsibility
for Rusty's mom's melancholies instead of leaving his son to deal with them.
He had dealt with them,
in his own way. His mom loved his voice. Sometimes it worked to get her out of
her funks, but not always. It was a thankless job, not because she didn't
appreciate his singing, but because she always told him not to disappoint his
dad. The unspoken words: the way she had done.
That was it. He needed to
get into game week mindset. That meant, regretfully, abandoning any thoughts of
fooling around with Matty and Slicky
Coolplums, the two very bright highlights of his life
at the moment. They represented everything his dad hated or, at least, what Rusty
was doing with them: superfluous, strange, and - what was another nice word his
dad often used? indecent.
When he had told him over
the phone during the summer that he couldn't come visit because he was working
as a stagehand alongside Maddox and Jonathan, that conversation had been a
weird one. His dad didn't know who Jonathan was. So Rusty had just said the
words `Maddox's boyfriend, soon to be fiancι', just to get a rise out of him. Always thought that boy was a queer one.
That had been directed at Maddox. No, his dad hadn't always thought that. On
the contrary, he had kept on using Maddox as an example of what it meant to be
a man, along with Dex and Kane, because he expected
Rusty to develop what he called a healthy competitive spirit, directed against
his closest friends.
At least his dad had refrained
from telling him to ditch Maddox as a friend. At least he understood Rusty was
no longer a boy he could impress with one hard, cold stare or a hurtful word.
Senior year would end,
eventually. After that, Rusty was free of his deal with his dad. Roy Parker had
asked his son to finish damn college, and that was what he would do. There were
no outstanding contracts to consider afterward.
Rusty closed his eyes as
he threw himself on the bed. It was a lot more pleasant to think of Matty and
his pretty lips. Or about Slicky Coolplums
and his tail. Ah, damn, he had to restructure some of his fantasies. While his
cock still twitched at the thought of having the two play with each other, just
earlier, he had had a revelation: he felt rather possessive of both. Who was to
say that he wouldn't get jealous if he had both of them in the same bed?
Wait, the answer was
simple. It had been revealed by that weird dream from after just having met
Matty in the cafeteria, right? He could be the meat in that sexy tutor and cat
boy sandwich. Both of them would go for the Mighty Thor, while Rusty could just
chill and enjoy the treatment.
What if they got jealous?
He didn't expect it from Matty since he was an uber-cool guy who was only
interested in studying; threesomes had to be brought up as a topic to examine
during their lessons. However, the cat boy was a different matter. He might
just get very jealous of Matty, regardless of having no reason to do that.
Ah, damn, he needed to
think things through. Maybe that could be his prize after the game on Saturday,
to have those two together, with him between them. It might not happen right
away, because he needed to catch the cat boy first, but it was a cool idea to toy
with. Would Matty be able to tame the little beast? Rusty liked to think that
his sexy tutor had it in him.
But first, he needed to
focus on the game and the game only, and boy, that was boring.
He sighed and got up. Ah,
but he knew how to make it more interesting. Quickly, he fired out a message to
the guys on the team. If they played just for fun at least once, they'd endure
game week a lot better.
***
"So, you remembered,"
Zoey said the moment he answered his phone.
"Remembered what?"
"That you have a bestie,
obviously," Zoey pointed out. "Who's just dying to find out all the details.
Spit it out. Did you two do it?"
"Zoey, you know it's not
like that. And it would be way too gay of him to jump to that, don't you think?
He just gave me some, you know, instructions on how to handle guys and such."
Matty was sure he was blushing, even though he was completely alone.
"Ah, I see how it is,"
Zoey said, sounding as sly as a fox that wanted to be caught.
"How is it?" Matty asked,
against his better judgement.
"You can't talk about it,
which only means one thing."
"Which is? Are you going
to make me extract each word from you?"
"It's a little punishment
for not telling me everything, but I get it, Matty. It must have been really
intense. You two must have crossed lines that have never been crossed before--"
"Dream on," Matty
interrupted her.
"It was good, Matty, am I
right or am I right?"
"Okay, you're right."
Matty sighed and dropped on the bed. "It was good. Or even more than good. I
can't describe it."
"I totally get you, my
friend. Now, are you ready for us to go watch some basketball practice?"
"What basketball
practice? It's Sunday."
"And yet, the guys are
practicing with some friendly sparring or something."
"What guys? Do you mean,
our guys?"
"Word has it that Rusty
convoked an emergency meeting to think up their strategy."
Matty didn't say a word
for a moment. Rusty hadn't mentioned that. Not that he had to, since he was
free to do what he wanted, but it just felt like, between friends, it should
have come up. Maybe they weren't friends. How had he even gotten that idea?
"How do you know about
it?"
"It's all over Xpress.
All the chicks on campus are there, ready to show their tits
to the king."
"Good for them," Matty
said dryly. "And him."
"What's with the sour
tone, buddy?" Zoey asked.
"I'm not sour," Matty protested.
"You know that's what
you're going against. Tits."
"You really like that
word, don't you, Zoey? For the record, I'm completely flat in that area, in
case you hadn't noticed."
"Not entirely flat," Zoey
insisted. "You have nothing to be ashamed of."
"Thanks for the pep talk,
but what do you want me to do? Go there and flash my naked chest? People are
going to think I'm mental."
"Well, I'm sure Rusty would
appreciate it."
"Weren't we supposed to
hang out and do stuff that is not Rusty-related?"
"What could be more fun
than watching a bunch of sexy dudes sweating it out while passing a ball
between them?"
"So, this is more for you
than me," Matty concluded.
"As long as you're
coming, it sounds good to me. Let's go."
"Rusty is going to think
it strange that I'm following him everywhere, don't you think?"
"Everyone is going to be
there. We'll get lost in the crowd."
Matty had to admit that
he felt tempted. The more time he spent with Rusty, the more he wanted to be
around him. Not that it was healthy, but otherwise, he lived a pretty healthy
life, so he was allowed one vice. "Okay. But we're not going to make ourselves
noticed or anything like that."
"Okay. I get it. I concur
with your strategy. You need to seem uninterested."
That boat had sailed a
long time ago, but there was no reasoning with Zoey. "Yeah, totally," he
agreed.
***
Half an hour later, he
was hiding in the last row, a baseball cap on his head, and wearing too many
clothes. He felt guilty for acting like a stalker, but he couldn't help it. Rusty
probably needed a break from all that gay stuff they were doing together.
Seeing how electrified the audience was, especially the female part, the king
of Sunny Hill would get all the attention he needed from the fairer sex, which
he had notoriously neglected lately.
So many times before, he
had been in the same situation, watching Rusty on the court, so fast, so
precise, like a machine made to score. This informal practice was looser, he
could tell. Rusty and the others were clearly having fun, and that made their
play all the more entertaining. One guy from the team hugged Rusty tightly and
patted his butt briefly after another perfect shot.
"It looks to me like you
have to worry about the guys as much as about the gals," Zoey whispered.
"That's just camaraderie,
Zoey," Matty protested.
He would have liked this
portion of Rusty without jealousy as a side dish, but he had to admit that his
crush was as handsy with his teammates as they were
with him.
"And how is that
different from what you two did all night?"
"It wasn't all night."
"You're wearing shades
like a rock star after a night spent on cocaine and pussy."
"Why are we friends,
again?" Matty whispered.
"Because someone needs to
be the crazy and indecent to your straight-laced and too decent."
"Straight-laced, right.
Like a noodle, maybe."
"Joke away. You know
that's who you are. Oh, look, he scored again!" Zoey jumped to her feet and
applauded frenetically.
It wasn't the big game,
but everyone behaved like it was. Matty totally got it. It was happening
because of Rusty, his presence on the court made everything so much better and
fun. The girls, as expected, were gushing over him. Fortunately, none of them
hurried to show her naked chest, much to his relief.
However, once the
so-called practice was over, they rushed in droves to get Rusty's
attention. That was his cue to make a quiet exit. It wasn't his business if
Rusty got laid before the big game, after all. What they had done the night
before didn't count as that, of course.
***
Rusty liked the
attention, as always, but during the practice he had become restless. Was it
because he was already anticipating his dad's presence in the stands? No, it
wasn't that. And since when was he looking for someone's approval, in
particular?
It had to be because of
Matty and all that tutoring. Rusty grimaced. If he wanted the guy's approval
that much, he should have told him about the mock practice. Only that he hadn't
actually told anyone, except the guys, so everyone present had just come of their
own accord.
A short girl struggled to
get him down to her level to smooch his cheek and he obeyed. As he lowered his
head, he noticed a pink jacket in the crowd that was leaving last. That was
Zoey, Matty's bestie; Rusty knew that because she was a big fan of the
brightest pink he had ever seen, and she was hard to ignore, now that he knew
who she was.
He disentangled himself
from the girls' arms and hurried after the pink jacket. Matty had to be around,
too, and Rusty found himself wanting to ask him what he had thought about the
little show they had just put on. Well, it hadn't been for that, but for the
strategy he wanted to discuss with his teammates, but one thing had led to
another and he didn't mind it.
He caught the back of the
pink jacket, stopping the girl in her tracks. Zoey turned with a nasty
expression on her face. Short people tended to be hamster-angry most of the
time; probably they suffered a lot because of their height. However, her
expression changed when she saw him. "Your Majesty," she said with a broad
grin, "those were some moves."
"Thanks, minion," he
replied. "Is Matty with you?"
She stared at him
nonplussed and only then Rusty noticed that she was moving her eyes to the
side, like she wanted to point something out to him without words. Rusty
examined the guy standing with his back to them like he wanted to hide from
someone. He sensed his eyes narrowing of their own accord as he took in the
guy. That was Matty, without a doubt, although it looked like he put on his
entire wardrobe only for the sake of looking twice his usual size.
He let his hand land heavily
on the guy's shoulder and turned him. Matty jumped and leaned backward so fast
that Rusty barely had time to catch him. "Wow, did you get into a fight or
something? When did you have the time?"
"I'll leave you guys to
it," Zoey said hurriedly.
Matty's lips moved like
he wanted to say something, but in the end just pursed in displeasure as they
usually did when Rusty was trying to get out of studying with skillful
dedication. That didn't work with his tutor, and that made Rusty appreciate him
even more. Not many people could brag that they could make him do things of any
kind.
"Why would you think
that?" Matty turned his head to follow his bestie with his eyes, or at least
Rusty could surmise that since the oversized sunglasses were hiding half his
face.
Rusty grabbed the shades
and removed them to stare at Matty, expecting a black
eye. He squinted and examined that cute face from up close.
Naturally, Matty tried to
pull back, but Rusty just followed his every move like a homing missile.
"Where's the black eye?
Are you using concealer?"
Matty rolled his eyes. "I
just have sensitive eyes."
"Right. By the way, where
are your prescription glasses?"
"In my dorm room. I also wear
contacts, on occasion," Matty explained.
Contacts. Like Slicky Coolplums, but for a
different reason. Rusty grabbed Matty's hand, forcing him to follow.
"Where are we going?"
"I just need someone to
wash my back," Rusty said matter-of-factly.
"I see no shortage of
girls wanting to help," Matty replied and gestured at the girls, who were still
trying to get Rusty's attention by waving and calling for him from all sides.
Rusty navigated through
the throngs of admirers like the skillful navigator he was. "Sorry, sorry," he
repeated with a smile. "I gotta focus on the game.
See you guys later."
Matty was huffing and
puffing behind him, probably wanting to protest against being made to obey,
when it was everything Rusty wanted to live for like for about half an hour,
only to annoy the living daylights out of his tutor. That was only part of the
truth. All that validation he had been searching for during the game, Matty could give right away and put his mind at ease.
While he had been busy
chasing Zoey, and consequently Matty through the crowd, his teammates had
already finished showering, and the last of them were getting dressed to leave
right then.
Well, there was a still a
guy in the buff when he dragged Matty to the locker room, and it took him a
moment to realize that he was subjecting Matty to what had to be one of the gay
boy's fantasies coming to life right then. So, he pushed Matty behind him and
held him there, obscuring the view of that dude's family jewels until he put
his pants on.
"What's going on?" Matty
asked, trying to get around him.
Just as he played with
the ball, Rusty dodged Matty's attempts and held him there without much
difficulty.
"Good practice, man."
Rusty's teammate high-fived him on his way out. "What are you hiding there?
Some girl, you dog?"
"I'm not a girl," Matty
protested before Rusty had time to reply.
"Just my friend, Matty."
He couldn't say `my
backwasher' because he had a feeling his friend-slash-tutor would try to murder
him a little for it.
Finally, they were alone,
and that was what mattered. Matty pulled at his jacket zipper and dropped down on
a bench, still huffing and puffing a little.
"Why the hell did you
overdress like this?" Rusty asked.
"I was cold," came the
deadpan reply. "What was that all about just earlier?" Matty continued
undressing, first taking off his jacket, then a couple of sweaters and a shirt,
to finally remain in just a t-shirt.
"You're deflecting. Wait,
were you trying to disguise yourself or something? Because it didn't work,"
Rusty warned him.
"Why would I do that?"
"So that you can come
incognito to my mock practice and judge my skills without me knowing," Rusty
said.
"Yeah, right. What do I
know about basketball?"
Rusty pondered. "You're
kind of weird, Matthew."
"Oh, Matthew is it now?"
Matty played along and grinned. "The real question is: why am I here?"
Rusty opened his arms
wide. "Well, that's easy. Have you ever had locker room fantasies and the
like?"
Matty nodded
thoughtfully. "Yeah. I suppose."
Rusty moved slowly and
stopped in front of the other. Matty looked up and their eyes met. "What are
the fantasies about?"
Matty smiled. "Do you
really want to know?"
That was the cool thing
between them. Rusty didn't have to explain too much for Matty to catch what he
meant. So, he crossed his arms and leaned slightly, to tower over his tutor and
make him tip his head back further. "I want more than that. I want you to show
me."
That small glint of
mischief in the hazel eyes told him what he needed to know. Still, he grunted
in surprise as Matty grabbed and pulled down his shorts and underwear in one
fell swoop.
"Is that all?" he
challenged.
Matty's smiled broadened
and Rusty shivered as smooth fingers rested on his hips, and the next sensation
was a warm mouth on the head of his cock, taking him inside.
"It's a real wonder you
haven't hooked up so far," Rusty said, exhaling while Matty
moved his hands over his crotch, teasing him everywhere, until one hand was
solidly wrapped around the base of his cock, and the other was cupping his
balls.
"Is this okay?" Matty
asked in a whisper. His lips were already wet and parted, and he looked
beautiful and guilty.
"I'll stop you if you
ever go too far," Rusty assured. "That has never happened with anyone, just so
you know." His own voice was low and raspy, and it had to be the high of
enjoying practice with the guys mixed with that naked look in Matty's eyes.
"Now, go on. You're doing more than fine."
Matty nodded eagerly, and
this time, he was a lot more decisive as he took Rusty's cock in his mouth and
began to caress it gently with his tongue.
There was no way this guy
wouldn't end up blowing gay boys' minds like frigging confetti. He closed his
eyes tightly, trying to focus on nothing else but the sensation without letting
his mind wander. Not that it wandered far; it just went to Matty, and how nice
he looked, sitting there, his mouth full, his eyelashes dropped so prettily and
a bit wet, probably because of his sensitive eyes or something.
He was supposed to let
Matty do his thing, while he thought of girls. That was probably what Matty thought was happening right now. He expected it. But
Rusty, for the first time in forever when it came to sex, discovered that he
couldn't deliver what was expected of him.
It was way too enjoyable
to separate the person doing it from the act itself. Matty was moaning softly
while he took him in as far as he could, showing his lack of experience. Even
that was pleasant, causing Rusty to let out a few sounds of his own. "Easy," he
begged.
They had fooled around
some the night before, so he wasn't supposed to shoot so fast again. When
everyone knew him for his staying power, he turned out to be a complete failure
when it came to Matty, and that was weird as fuck.
Matty
decreased his grip but thought it a good idea to tease the head with little
licks. Rusty groaned in exasperation, as well as mind-blowing pleasure. "You
naughty jerk," he berated Matty through his teeth, "you deserve what's coming."
His partner in locker
room fantasies didn't seem to take it to heart and just moved his head a little
faster, until Rusty had to steady himself by holding Matty by the shoulders.
One more flick of the tongue and he was gone, his jizz
shooting so fast out of him that he barely felt it for a second or so.
Matty let out muffled
moans while he continued to drink Rusty dry. Which took a while, and made Rusty
shiver in pleasure, as all those sensations spread through his entire body,
while Matty took his time to clean him well.
He didn't protest when Matty
released him from his mouth and then hugged his waist and pressed his warm
cheek against his spent cock. He even caressed Matty's hair. "That was really
good," he said. He had dragged his tutor here to hear some praise about the way
he played ball, and in turn, he found himself being the guy to offer those
praises back, which was kind of new to him.
Anyone he had hooked up
with said he was a nice dude, but he had a feeling what was happening here was
beyond being nice. And he had a damn hard time defining what it was.
TBC
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Summary:
When Dante Elsher plans to spend the
last summer before college at his father's house, he expects a series of
challenges that mostly deal with having an obnoxious step sister and getting
acquainted with a world that's nothing like his. What he doesn't expect is to
fall in love for the first and last time in his life, but that's exactly what
happens when he sees Ash Moreno, the resident f-boy, as Shana, his stepsis calls him.
Everything about Ash Moreno screams danger, from those mean tattoos to
that motorcycle on which no one's allowed to wear a helmet. Still, Dante falls
without caring about safety nets and the like. And he's sure as hell that it's
forever.