Date: Fri, 22 Mar 2024 15:05:34 +0000
From: DurtyRiter <DurtyRiter@protonmail.com>
Subject: The Man with the Jeep, Chapter 51

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*********

The Man with the Jeep



Chapter 51


"And what about you?" asked John.

"What do you mean?"

"I just told you my life story," John laughed. "Please sir, could you spare
a penny for a pauper?"

"Oh, please," Andrew groaned.

"Tell me something about your past. Surely you can share something that I
don't know."

"But my life is so boring!" Andrew protested.

"Is it? I wouldn't know..."

"Okay, okay," Andrew relented. "But if you nod off, I'm just going to
stop."

"Deal!" agreed John.

Andrew wondered for a moment where to start, but decided to take his cue
from John.

"Unlike you, I did not grow up in a `loud and active' home. It was more
reserved than that. That's not to say we didn't have our fair share of
happenings, but it was always less boisterous than anything you've ever
talked about.

"My parents met at church, so I guess that was kind of the anchor that
dictated how we lived. We were there Sunday mornings, Wednesday nights, and
usually two other nights a week. I talked about my grandma before, and my
parents were mostly like that too: everything revolved around God. I mean,
our schedule went off of the church's, and our actions revolved around what
we learned there.

"At some point in my teens, I realized what having faith in God meant, and
the religion stuff faded more into the background for me. That made
everything simultaneously easier and harder, because now I was desperate to
find real truth and connect with God, butÑ-and I know you're going to
laugh when I say thisÑ-I wasn't so concerned about being good all the
time.

"I wasn't afraid to challenge basic assumptions because I figured truth
could handle it and nothing else would. But as I got more outspoken, I
realized people in church have the same strengths, failings, prejudices,
worries, perspectives, and passions as anyone outside the church. Instead
of helping me, they usually just decided I was rebelling and made life
miserable for me. It felt like they were more openly judgmental, but it was
always couched in Christian terminology as if that gave them the high
ground or something.

"I remember at a Bible study one time, we were all asked if we as
Christians were better, worse, or the same as sinners, and I think that was
when things kind of crystallized for me. While others gave their answers
(usually `better,' of course), I realized that the only answer I could give
was all three at the same time: better, because we know the truth; worse,
because there is no way we can live up to it; and the same, because the
value of our souls is not more or less the value of anyone else's. I don't
think many got what I was saying though, because they all started trying to
argue with me after that.

"Anyway, while all this was going on, I was on the worship team and in some
bands, so that really became my outlet."

"Wait," interrupted John. "You were in bands? You never told me that! What
did you play?"

"I was just a singer for most of it, though I learned to play bass guitar
later since I could never get a bassist to show up for practices."

"Hold on," John said. "When you said `band,' I was thinking like marching
band. But if you're a singer, then..."

"Try rock band," Andrew laughed.

"What?!"

"I also did a techno album once, though it wasn't as good."

"WHAT?!?! You've been holding out on me!"

Andrew smiled. "It just hadn't come up yet."

"So, what kind of rock?"

"My first band was called Maestro and The Imaginary Numbers. It was
supposed to be emo, but that never really got off the ground. For the bands
after that, it mostly depended on which guitarists we had. It went anywhere
from acoustic to pop to metal."

"And techno?"

"I suppose that label's a little optimistic, but it's definitely
electronica. I did that one when I was between bands before I learned the
bass. I had an old Playstation 2 and a game called `MTV Music Generator 2.'
I was just messing around with it for fun when my sister mentioned she was
looking for workout music, so I thought `why not?'" My roommate at the time
was borrowing a 4-track recorder, and when he went to work one day, I
figured out how to use it, and recorded five songs before he got home."

"No kidding!"

"Yeah," Andrew confirmed. "You should have seen me recording it, too. I
only had a super cheap little karaoke microphone with a really short cord,
and of course the soundtrack had to be routed from the Playstation through
my TV, so there were cords everywhere. I had to punch `record' on the
recorder, then use the game controller to start the soundtrack, then
practically curl into a pretzel to be able to see the screen and still have
the mic close enough to use properly."

"That sounds too funny!"

"It was!" Andrew agreed. "And I had to do it several times, of course. I
would finish a track I was satisfied with and then I had to go back and do
it over again for each of the background vocals I wanted."

"You did your own background vocals too?"

"Well, of course! No one else was there, and I didn't know how long my
roommate would have the recorder."

"That's crazy!"

Andrew beamed. "When my roommate got home, he was nice enough to promise to
finish it for me. He seemed especially impressed that all my backing tracks
were sung in key too, so that was pretty flattering. He even pulled out his
guitar and we recorded an acoustic ballad for my mom."

"Wow!" exclaimed John. "And you said your life was boring!"

"It mostly is," Andrew said with a shrug. "But I've always loved music and
I miss being in a band and performing. It's like a therapeutic outlet where
I have almost an alter ego. I often dream of picking it up again, but it
takes time, so I don't know if I'll get the chance."

"Oh, come on," John protested. "If you want to do it, we can make it
happen."

"And open a nursery at the same time?" Andrew challenged him. "I don't
think I can swing both."

"You don't have to do them simultaneously. I'm just saying if you want to
get back into that, I would be happy to help. When you feel the timing is
right. If it works as your therapy, I'm doubly behind youÑ-even if you
never join another band and tour the country, you could still play
locally." John suggested. "I know of a venue that would be happy to have
you play," he added with a wink.

"We were never big enough to tour," Andrew laughed. "We barely managed to
do any recording."

"It's all good," John assured him. "But when can I hear your stuff?"

"I'll send it to you if you want," Andrew offered. "Just remember it was a
long time ago and I never thought it was particularly good."

"We both know you wouldn't even if it was the next `Thriller,' John teased.

"I can tell you it's no `Thriller,' that's for sure!"

"I will be looking forward to it either way," John promised.

Andrew was pleased that John was so enthusiastic about his music. He hadn't
heard a single note yet, though, so Andrew didn't expect it to last. He
didn't think it was terrible or anything, but it certainly didn't seem to
be worthy of radio play. But he also knew that John held therapeutic
practices in high regard, so he would probably still push for Andrew to get
back to it. Who knows, maybe he could actually get good one day...

"You haven't told me what you thought about the place," John said with a
sweeping gesture to indicate his home.

"I like it," Andrew said. "It's so light in here!"

"Today it is," John agreed. "It really depends on the weather, though."

"All these windows are just incredible!"

"That was what hooked me too. And the price was right, so here I am."

"I have to say, I was expecting another bait and switch until the moment
you opened the door," confessed Andrew.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean that old Quonset hut, the outhouse, the grotto, the
barn... It always seems that things will be more than meets the eye with
you."

"Maybe at camp, but not here in town. I can't afford stuff like that. And
honestly, I don't actually like a lot of show."

"Says the man with a hidden sauna, secret straps, and a high-tech
multimedia system in an outhouse!" retorted Andrew. "I thought you said you
designed that entire thing!"

"I did, but there are always reasons for those things. When I'm home, I
just like to be comfortable and not worry about stuff. This place is low
maintenance and comfortable. It's almost like being outside with all these
windows. And you should see this place at night."

"I'd like that."

"Then stay the night with me tonight."

"Of course!" came the reply before the kiss.

A kiss that was suddenly cut short when Andrew jerked with a start.

"Wait a second," he said. "Reasons? What reasons?"

Caught off guard, John was lost for a moment.

"What reasons?" he finally asked.

"Yes," Andrew declared. "You just said there were reasons for the way you
designed the outhouse."

"There are."

"What are they? I've asked before, but you evaded answering, so I'm asking
again."

"Fair enough!" John chuckled. "But first, take another crack at figuring it
out. I think you have all pieces now."

"Okay," Andrew relented. "Let's see... You told me pointblank that the
outhouse was your contribution to the property itself."

"Right."

"You also told me that your mom made the barn."

"Well, it was already there, but she repurposed it and spruced it up."

"So the outhouse was built after the barn."

"Yeah."

"Which means those sex parties were already a thing."

"Indeed they were," John confirmed with a growing smirk.

"The only reason for one way mirror glass is to watch without being seen."

"Yup."

"Did you really build the entire thing just to shoot porn in?" Andrew asked
incredulously.

"You got it!" John crowed. "I originally just wanted a genuine pit stop for
stair climbers and hikers, but then I thought I might as well make a porn
set out of it while I was at it. There's money to be made there, and
sometimes the barn isn't adequate for what they look for."

Andrew gasped. "Is that why all the cabins are different from each other
too?" he asked incredulously.

"No," laughed John. "Like I said, those were built long before my time,
though I have started to renovate some of them. Now that you mention it,
maybe I should put those out as options too."

"Might as well," replied Andrew.

"Might as well," echoed John. "You realize you have me at a disadvantage
now, right?" he asked after a moment.

"What?"

"You've had me spill my guts and figured out the secrets of my
outhouse. How am I going to keep you interested when you've solved all the
mysteries?"

"I have an idea about that," Andrew assured him.

"You do? I'm all ears!"

"Oh no you're not," he said, reaching between John's legs. "There is way
more to you than ears."

He felt the lump he had grabbed harden and lengthen as soon as he laid hold
of it and John made a low growl.

Andrew took a firm grasp of John's tool through his thin lounge pants and
pulled him to his feet before leading him up the stairs to the low bed,
where he spun him around and pushed him down onto his back to land on the
big puffy comforter. John was surprised, but still wore a huge
smile-Ñwhich was all he wore about a second later after Andrew yanked
off the pajamas.

John sighed as Andrew dove down to the rigid pole that was reaching for the
sky.

Maybe it was because of his chagrin at not recognizing it on video, or
maybe it was simply because of all the brilliant daylight that flooded the
loft, but Andrew was super aware of every curve, vein, and ridge on John's
cock. He drank it in, firmly committing it to memory in every way. He
wanted to be able to pick it out from a police lineup.

He had no idea where that image came from, but it was a hot one and fed his
ardor. He almost got distracted wondering if every dick on the planet was
different, like a fingerprint or an iris scan. Later: he was busy now!

He pulled it this way and that, getting a look at every conceivable angle,
admiring the texture of the skin, the straightness of the shaft, the
thickness, the heft...

Every movement Andrew made and every hot breath he blew on it made it even
harder. So hard, in fact, Andrew imagined he could see the pulsing of the
veins themselves as blood flowed in to strengthen it even more. It was
getting more difficult to move as it engorged with excitement. It was even
changing color to a darker hue.

Andrew drew closer to it and breathed it in, relishing the smell of John's
crotch: sweat, pre-cum, and that unmistakable John musk all combined for a
heady mix. He'd have no trouble identifying that smell!

He stuck out his tongue and tapped the very tip to savor the bead of
pre-cum sitting there.

He leaned in and kissed it gently, making it jump just a tad. He moved his
kisses around the head...  under the flare of it...slowly making his way
down the shaft, making sure not to miss a single spot

Then the tongue came out again, licking and tasting its way back up, taking
its time and driving John to frustration.

Andrew opened wide and put his lips around as much of the shaft as he could
from the side, never letting his tongue break contact. He slid his mouth up
and down the shaft, moving around and changing his angle so no side was
neglected. John began to whimper a little bit, but he was paid no heed.

Only when he was satisfied that he had gotten John to maximum mast did
Andrew finally engulf the head of John's cock into his mouth. He just held
it there with the mushroom top in the warm cavity, sucking on it like a
giant nipple. If there was any reserve left to make that tool more
monstrous, it was capped out then. Andrew slid a little farther down the
shaft before pulling back to the head again. John grunted as Andrew
repeated the maneuver, going just barely farther down. And again. And
again. It was almost mathematical in the infinitesimal progress he made
with each successive plunge down the pole.

A long time later, Andrew finally reached the very bottom with his nose
buried in John's pubes. In all their playtimes, Andrew was usually just shy
of this goal, but somehow the gradual progression helped him to accommodate
the entire thing this time around. He slowly and methodically slid up and
down John's cock from the very tip to the very base several times, reveling
in his accomplishment.  John was not small, especially when properly worked
up like he was now. Indeed, it seemed more massive than ever, yet Andrew
had managed to swallow it all! He sucked on it until John started grunting.

Nope! Andrew jumped off it quickly, leaving it straining and pulsing for
release. Not yet...

He went back to kissing his way down the pole and into John's groin. He
kissed his way through the luxurious bush of curly hair and up the wide
treasure trail to cover his stomach with more kisses before he broke out
his tongue once more. He lapped and kissed at John's abdomen as he slowly
worked his way up.

He felt he could sense the tension in John's straining poker, but he
continued to tease and explore the dense expanse of flesh that was beneath
him.

Before too long, he had reached the lower edges of John's pecs, which he
worked over just as patiently and thoroughly as he had his stomach. John's
nipples did provide some distraction, though. They were just too perfect
and primed to ignore, so Andrew spent some special time on them, sucking on
them, swirling them around with his tongue, and nipping at them with his
teeth to bring out little yips from John.

He gradually moved upwards until he was kissing and nuzzling John's neck
and under his jaw. This part made John a bit squirmy as though he was being
deliciously tickled. Andrew continued until he was sure he had left a nice
hickey in one spot wickedly chosen to not be easy to hide with a collared
shirt.

He had finally reached John's mouth now, and they made out as if they
hadn't in months, full of intensity, passion, and drive. Trying to devour
each other's mouths simultaneously, their tongues dueled and their teeth
nipped and pulled at each other's lips until they were swollen.

With a sigh of pleasure and a hint of regret, Andrew pulled back and sat up
on his haunches. He reached around and stroked John's turgid pole a few
times.

"Ready for the next step?"

"Heck yes," John replied breathlessly.

"Okay," replied Andrew. "Move around a little bit so your head is up
against the backboard. I want you get a good view."

"Yes sir!" agreed John at once, eager as ever to put himself in Andrew's
tight hole.

He adjusted his position and Andrew moved accordingly. Andrew spit into his
hand, reached back and pulled on John's cock a few times.

"Sure you're ready?" he asked.

"Yes sir!" John repeated.

Andrew grinned down at him. "Okay then."

He let go of John's cock and suddenly slapped John's balls smartly.

"Ah!" howled John at the sharp unexpected pain, put Andrew cut him short by
shoving his cock deep into his wide open mouth.

"You said you were ready," Andrew declared with an evil smirk.



*********



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DurtyRiter@protonmail.com