by Drew Hunt
“After nine, and the day is half over.”
Mason still had his eyes shut, wondering who had stolen his boyfriend and replaced him with this pseudo-parent.
“I made breakfast,” Parker said, when Mason didn’t move.
Mason opened his eyes to see Parker placing a tray of bacon, hash browns, and waffles on top of the bedside locker.
“What the…” Mason said when Parker straightened up. Parker was wearing a full-length white apron with frilled edges. “Oh, my God!” Mason clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. It was such an unexpected, incongruous and downright hilarious sight. Parker, the big macho jock, wrapped in a white cotton apron!
“Shut up. That fucking bacon kept spitting at me. So I found this in a drawer and put it on to protect myself,” Parker said, untying the apron and pulling the loop over his head to reveal nothing but bare flesh and a pair of red boxer shorts. Seeing this, Mason stopped laughing.
“I was hungry, and you didn’t look like you were gonna wake up anytime soon,” Parker filled the silence.
“Sorry, you should have woken me. Fine host I am.”
“That’s okay.” Parker got under the blankets, reached over for the tray and placed it between them.
“Fresh coffee as well as orange juice. Wow.”
“Yeah. That kitchen is really well stocked.”
“That’s Mom’s domain.”
“Come on, get eatin’, or are you waiting for me to feed you?”
Mason smiled. He rather liked the idea, but thought it might be pushing things too far; after all, he and Parker had only really known each other for a couple of weeks.
“Hey, this is great,” Mason said, biting into a waffle. It was a crisp golden brown on the outside, but soft and light on the inside.
“Yeah. I love waffles, and cause Mom’s out working so much, I have to either do without or make my own.”
“You’d make someone a real nice housewife,” Mason said through a mouthful of food. He noticed Parker had stopped eating. Swallowing, Mason continued. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”
Parker smiled. “It’s cool. I know I don’t come across as the cozy domestic type, but…” Parker looked at the ceiling, was that a wistful expression on his face?
Mason got an image of the pair of them living in a small house together, white picket fence, roses growing round the door. He mentally slapped himself for being such a sap. “Come on, it’s getting cold,” Mason said in an effort to lighten the atmosphere.
Once they’d finished, Mason saw a smear of maple syrup on Parker’s chin. He leaned forward and licked away the errant food. “You messy pup.”
Parker wrapped his arms around Mason and began to kiss him, Mason responding eagerly. As their passions rose, Parker rolled Mason onto his back and pressed him into the mattress. Pulling their lips apart, Parker stared down into Mason’s eyes. “I remember that day under the maple tree when I had something on my chin. I thought you were gonna lick it clean.”
“You remember that?”
Parker nodded. “Of course I do. I remember everything we said and did those first few days. I wanted you to lick my chin, kiss me and…”
“I was too scared. I mean I didn’t know that you…that you were gay and interested in me.”
“Yeah. Seems like a real dumb game we played, both sorta circling each other, neither of us willing to make the first move.”
“I couldn’t, Parker. Though I’m not a weakling or anything, if you’d have wanted to, you could have beat the crap out of me. I was shitting my pants that day in the locker-room when you caught me staring.”
“I could never hurt you, babe,” Parker said, running a finger down Mason’s cheek. “You mean the fucking world to me, Mase.”
Mason swallowed. This was the most serious they had been with each other, the closest either of them had come to saying the ‘L’ word. No one had ever called him Mase before; he thought he’d hate it, but when Parker said it, his body tingled.
“Oh, Parker.” Mason pulled the big teenager on top of him and initiated a further round of kissing. He could feel a large hard object pressing into his hip. Mason didn’t need three guesses to know what it was. He wanted that cock. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted it. But before he could match thought to deed, Parker had slid down Mason’s body, pulled off his boxers and engulfed Mason’s stiff erection.
“Oh, Christ!” Mason said. Though he’d both given and received a few blowjobs in his time, this, this was something else, in a class of its own. No one had ever deep throated him before, but it only took Parker a few bobs up and down before the head of his cock was down Parker’s throat.
“Fuck! Oh, God, Parker, don’t stop.” Mason’s fingers clawed at the towel under him. “This is fucking awesome.” Mason looked down and saw Parker’s beautiful blond head bobbing on his achingly hard tool. Their eyes met. Mason could see the satisfaction, the sense of achievement in Parker’s grey orbs. The eye contact caused Mason to lose control. He thrust upward once, twice; the third time he blew. His cock fired several volleys of cream directly into Parker’s eagerly sucking mouth.
Mason collapsed back on the bed, exhausted. He couldn’t ever remember having such an intense orgasm.
Parker hovered over him, a shit-eating grin on his face, bringing out his sexy dimples. “Enjoyed that?”
“Uh,” Mason gasped. “Fucking A, Parker. You were.” Mason shook his head. “You were…well, the best!”
Parker’s grin widened.
“Now it’s my turn, you fucking gorgeous stud. Though I don’t know if I can do as good as you just did, I’m sure gonna try.”
“Have at it, babe. You won’t get any complaints from me.”
Mason wanted to take his time. Run his fingers in Parker’s treasure trail, rub his smooth belly, explore the cobblestones of his ripped abs, but he was in too much of a hurry to get to the main prize to fully appreciate the honed perfection that was Parker’s torso.
A quarter sized wet spot marked the place where Parker’s manhood was leaking pre-cum. Mason rubbed his cheek against the cotton-covered bulge, eliciting a moan from further up the bed. He then tongued and gently bit into the mound. Knowing he couldn’t wait any longer, he reached out and pulled at the waistband of Parker’s sexy red boxers. The elastic snagged on Parker’s knob but soon freed itself and slapped Mason’s cheek, causing him to giggle.
Denying his desire to immediately go down on Parker, Mason instead began to lick under his partner’s balls, making the big guy groan. Mason spent countless minutes lapping Parker’s scrotum, perineum, once even straying into a musky smelling ass crack. Parker, judging by the pleasurable sounds he was making, loved the attention, though he eventually became impatient.
“Please, Mase, please, I gotta get off. Suck me, dude.”
In a bid to show his independence, Mason continued licking, but moved on to Parker’s inner thighs.
“You bastard,” Parker whimpered.
Out of the corner of his eye Mason saw Parker reach for his dick and begin to stroke.
“Hey. Stop that.”
“But, Mase!”
Mason decided it was time. He grasped Parker’s cock. It was stiffer than he could ever remember, and was pointing to Parker’s face. Maneuvering it to his mouth, Mason licked at the shiny cock head, dripping with pre-seminal fluid. Parker tasted sweet, sweeter than any of his limited number of previous sex partners.
He wasn’t allowed to enjoy the taste for very long though, because Parker put his hands on either side of Mason’s head and began to push him further onto his log.
Mason objected to being handled so roughly. Parker apologized, but Mason could see his actions were due to frustration and lust.
“Put your hands behind your head or grip the sheets or something. Otherwise I’ll tie you up.”
Parker, the big, muscled jock, whimpered like a baby being told it couldn’t have its favorite toy.
“Want to be ti
ed down? You into bondage?”
In a small voice, which Mason only just heard, Parker said, “Yes.”
Mason stared down at the handsome athlete with his face bathed in sweat, his hair a mess of tangles. “You sure?” Mason’s heart began to beat rapidly, he’d never done anything like this before, but the prospect was highly arousing.
“Yes, I love it when someone else takes control.”
Mason was amazed; he thought Parker would always want to be top dog. Then he remembered all the times when Parker would ask him to just cuddle him. “Okay, if you’re sure.”
Parker nodded while biting his bottom lip.
Mason thought quickly about what he could use to restrain Parker. Rising from the bed he searched in his parents’ dresser and soon found a handful of his father’s ties. Occasionally his mom and dad would attend a function out of town and either go from, or return to, the cabin.
Working as quickly but as thoroughly as he could, Mason secured Parker’s wrists to the vertical spindles on the headboard. Parker tested his bonds, found they would hold, but weren’t tight enough to interfere with circulation.
“Now I’ve got you just where I want you,” Mason said, putting an edge of menace into his voice. He surprised himself at how turned on he was at being the one in charge.
Parker grinned at him, though it looked somewhat wary. “And just what are you going to do with me now you’ve got me?”
Show you just how much I love you, Mason thought. But out loud he said, “Oh, tease you until you go crazy and beg me to get you off.” Putting on a sinister smile he added, “Then I’ll tease you some more.”
Parker groaned. “Oh, fuck.”
Mason lost track of time as he rubbed, licked, bit and kissed every square inch of Parker’s available flesh. Whenever the big jock’s passion seemed to be waning, Mason would stop whatever he was doing and stimulate him back to full hardness. Parker whimpered, begged, cursed and shouted for release, but Mason was deaf to his entreaties. Mason had a great time pointing out to Parker all his muscle groups, not just the obvious ones of pectorals, biceps and triceps.
“These, Parker, are your intercostals,” Mason said, poking at the big guy’s ribs.
“Stop it. This has gone on long enough. Please,” Parker said through his laughter at being tickled.
Mason mounted the wide chest and after subduing Parker with a long, slow tongue-filled kiss, he began suckling and biting Parker’s neck. “I’m going to mark you as my property. Do you want that, baby?”
“No, Mason. Please—no hickeys.”
By now Mason had developed a good sense of Parker and what he really wanted. He therefore sucked harder at Parkers collarbone and bit down. Pulling off, he noted with satisfaction he’d left a visible red mark.
“Now everyone in the locker room on Tuesday will know that the Parker Collins got some over the weekend.” Mason chose not to think how everyone would assume the bite had come from a chick. No, he absolutely refused to think about Parker telling everyone that his new girlfriend had done it.
As often as he could throughout his exploration of Parker’s body, he’d rubbed his own hard member against whatever part of Parker was accessible. He thought he’d taunted the big guy enough, and in truth he too was ready to blow again.
“Okay, Parker, I’m gonna let you come. Aren’t I a considerate master?”
“That’s not how I’d…”
Mason closed his lips over Parker’s, silencing the angry comments. “Now, now, Parky darling, that’s no way to talk to your betters. For that comment I ought to make you wait another five minutes.”
“No, please!”
The imploring, desperate expression on Parker’s face made Mason relent.
Levering himself up and shuffling backward until he was sitting on Parker’s thighs, Mason took hold of Parker’s now slippery member and began to pump. Parker was close to the edge, hell, he’d kept him on the edge for the past half hour. Therefore it didn’t take long before Parker was ready to explode. “Shoot, Parker, shoot for me.”
The big man’s scream at the moment of release rattled the window panes with its volume. Three, four and then five ropes of cum shot out of the head of his penis, the first spraying Mason in the face. His vision was momentarily obscured before he could reach up and wipe his eyes clean just in time to witness the fourth volley. The subsequent eruptions, though far less spectacular, seemed to affect Parker just as much. He shuddered involuntarily as his orgasm racked his large frame. Mason looked down in satisfaction, which as time went on, turned to mild concern. Had Parker blown some kind of biological fuse? Had he overdone things? Mason was only vaguely aware that he himself was hard and unsatisfied.
It wasn’t until Mason saw Parker’s wet face that it dawned on him that Parker’s shudders were due to him crying. Mason felt like shit. He’d pushed Parker beyond his limits, why hadn’t he listened to his pleas to stop? Mason tore at Parker’s bonds, eventually freeing them. Parker launched himself at Mason and held him in a death grip as he continued to cry, his sobs now audible.
“I’m sorry, so sorry,” Mason tried to say, though he too was crying. How could he have hurt this beautiful, vulnerable boy-man?
“No. You don’t understand,” Parker tried to say. “These are happy tears. I am…” Parker sniffed, “I’m happier than I think I’ve ever been in my life.”
“Huh?”
“Just hold me, Mason. Please don’t let go.”
Mason complied, rocking the big guy in his arms, wondering what the hell had just happened.
“Feeling better now?” Mason asked after Parker had been quiet for about five minutes, though he hadn’t let go his tight hold on Mason.
“Yeah, thanks.”
Mason kissed the top of Parker’s head. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Parker shuddered, but made no other visible or audible reply.
Mason continued to cuddle his friend, marveling at how amazing it felt to give comfort to such a big and outwardly tough person.
“Can we get cleaned up first? I stink.”
“Sure, babe, whatever you want.” Mason let go of Parker who got up, kissed Mason on the cheek before making for the door. “Leave the shower running. I’ll go in after you.” Mason didn’t suggest they shower together; he suspected Parker needed a little time to himself, plus the shower stall was rather small.
As he waited for Parker to finish in the bathroom, Mason scanned the room. They’d made a real mess of the bed, though fortunately the towels Parker had laid down the night before had borne the brunt of the damage. Gathering them up and straightening the underlying sheets and blankets, Mason headed for the kitchen to do laundry.
Not long after starting the wash, Parker called out that he’d finished, so Mason went to have his shower.
Once he’d washed and dried himself, Mason went back into the master bedroom and found Parker already dressed.
“I thought we might go for a hike. Are there any decent trails round here?”
“Uh, yeah. You remembered to bring a pair of hiking boots?” Mason asked, wondering if Parker was trying to avoid the issue of what happened earlier.
Chapter 4
Pill Hill—Portland OR, July 2005
All Mason could hear in the silent elevator was his fast beating heart, and Parker’s heavy breathing. Mason remained still, but Parker soon began to pace the small metal box as if he were a trapped wild animal.
* * * *
The Cascade Mountains, WA, Columbus Day Weekend, 1991
On their hike, Parker set a brisk pace. Although Mason had no difficulty in keeping up, he wondered why they were in such a hurry. Parker obviously was using the walk to burn off his frustrations at whatever was bugging him.
They had decided to explore one of the trails that wound its way up a nearby hillside. It would, Mason told Parker, give them a good view of the lake and its surrounding cabins. Parker, who took the lead during the times they had to proceed in single file, pr
ovided Mason with all the beautiful scenery he desired, but because of Parker’s quiet mood, he kept his no doubt inappropriate observations to himself.
Parker put on a burst of speed and went ahead, further increasing Mason’s concern. When he turned a corner, he found Parker sitting on a fallen tree trunk.
“Figured you needed a rest, ‘cause you won’t be used to hard exercise just playing that dumb sport of yours,” Parker said, smirking at Mason, who flipped him the bird. “You were right, there’s a great view from up here.”
Parker picked up a stone and hurled it into the air. Mason watched as it sailed upward, before gravity took hold, and it plummeted down the incline. He lost sight of the stone as it grew smaller and merged into the tree-lined backdrop.
Mason took a seat next to Parker, who put an arm over his shoulder. The only sounds came from the rustling leaves in the trees, as well as a group of crows squawking as they nested, or did whatever birds did. A blue jay suddenly flew up, its jayer-jayer alarm call quickening in speed, but fading in volume as the bird flew away.
“About earlier,” Parker began, “at school I’m the in-control tough guy. But…” Parker rubbed at his face. “But that’s just one side of me. You, Mason,” Parker turned to face Mason and put his hands on Mason’s shoulders and stared into his eyes, “get to see another part of me. Aside from all the macho shit, I’m also a guy who wants to, needs to be led, taken care of.” In a quieter voice he added, “Held and protected.”
Mason watched a raccoon amble toward them, sniff the air, then, not perceiving them as a threat, go on his way.
“I don’t understand. When you burst into tears earlier this morning, I didn’t know what to do. I know you said you weren’t hurt or upset. But I…”
“I cried because of how happy and safe you made me feel. It was great how I could show this other part of me, knowing you’d understand.”
Mason nodded, even though he didn’t understand. How could someone of Parker’s size, abilities, and usual level of self-assurance also be needy and vulnerable? He’d never have guessed.
“Why the macho tough guy stuff? I mean why do you hide your more tender feelings from people?”
