by Ryan Field
After she took the recipe and placed it in her purse, a loud slam that came from the back of the market made them both jump. It sounded as if the back door had become unhinged. Then Dan came clomping in, waving his arms above his head, “I never saw such a thing in my life. They came all the way back from Newark!” He shook his head back and forth and his false teeth kept slipping forward. He pushed them back with his index finger. “The squirrels, they came all the way back from Newark."
Chance folded his arms across his chest and lowered his eyebrows. “What?"
"I drove all the way to Newark yesterday and let those fuckers go in the cemetery, and they came back last night,” he shouted. His face was red and his eyes were two small slits.
Sarah just stepped back and concentrated on the cash register; she didn't get involved with Dan unless absolutely necessary, which worked out fine because he rarely looked at her twice in one day. Women, in general, did not interest old Dan Pratta.
"How do you know they're the same ones?” Chance asked. It took all the strength he had not to break out laughing.
"They all have orange tails,” he shouted. “Figlio di puttana, the same squirrels!” He slapped his forehead and looked up at the ceiling. “I don't know how-a they did it, but this time, I'm-a taking them all out to Pennsylvania today, over the Delaware River Gap! I'm-a gonna take them so far they won't know which-a way to get back here” He crossed toward the front door, but as he was about to leave, he pointed at Chance and said, “You, start cleaning out the barn today when it gets slow in here. I want that place spotless by the end of the week. I think those orange-tailed bastardos like it dirty and that's why they keep coming back.” He left.
Sarah raised her arms and shook her head, then popped a chunk of gum into her mouth. “Amazing. I can't believe they came all that way back from Newark. But I'm glad they did."
Chance just shrugged.
For the rest of that week, he worked hard on cleaning the barn. He got splinters in his knees from scrubbing the floors and blisters on his hands from scraping years of mold from the rafters. Each night, when the old man inspected what he'd cleaned, he found something wrong and made him re-clean it. No one knew that while he was cleaning the barn, he was leaving bits of bread to attract more squirrels, or that he woke up extra early every morning so he could go out and check the squirrel traps. On Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday the traps were empty, but on Friday there were four more new squirrels in the cages, and he sprayed their tails orange too. When Dan went into the barn and saw them, he came back into the market with his palms pressed to the sides of his face. “Holy mother of God. I can't believe it. It's a miracle. I'm taking them to upstate New York this time. And you, stop cleaning that barn. Maybe they like it clean in there and that's why they are coming back."
Saturday morning at daybreak, Chance baked his special vodka peach pies for the weekend crowd. Soft, delicate pastry with sweet, juicy peach filling and a hint of vodka, topped with two and a half inches of buttery crumb topping that melted in the mouth. Of course, all the vodka burned off during the baking process and you couldn't really taste it, but people who ate it thought they could, and Chance didn't correct them.
Dan loved this pie. Not because he actually ate it, but because Chance charged twenty-five dollars a pie and it was mostly profit. Dan smiled and greeted all the customers that day—he gave the nun from the Catholic Church a free soda. He was making money and the squirrels hadn't returned. By three in the afternoon, after all twenty-five pies had been sold, Dan put his hand down the back of Chance's pants when no one was looking and said, “You, you did good today with those pies. I like that. You know how to make-a the money good."
Chance froze and smiled. The old man's dirty hand felt cold and dry against his ass. “They like the vodka,” he said. “They can't taste it, but they like the way it sounds.” The old man hadn't washed in a few days, and his underarms smelled like burnt onions.
Dan squeezed a handful of ass and laughed. “You got such a sweet ass, just like those pies you make.” He pulled his hand out of Chance's pants and headed to the back door so he could go upstairs for his nap.
"Is it okay if I go to The Island with Sarah tonight?” Chance asked. He was cleaning the slicing machine and he didn't look up.
Dan stopped walking and thought for a moment. Then he turned and said, “Just be back at twelve. No fucking around. I don't wanna hear anything about that other guy who was hanging around here."
Chance shook his head and looked Dan in the eye. “I'm only going with Sarah to walk around. I'm not interested in any other guy, or guys, and that's that.” It was the truth, too. The only thing on his mind was being selected to be a finalist in the recipe competition.
The Island was crowded that night. They had to park way in the back and there was a line of about ten people at the entrance gate. It had been one of those warm, humid days when there's hardly a breeze and everything sounds louder than usual. The roller coaster sailed down the tracks clanking and squeaking with such intensity that Chance was tempted to cover his ears. The organ music from the carousel took on a frightening sound, as if they were walking through the middle of a horror film. Chance was acutely aware of the salty, sweet smells of popcorn and cotton candy. There were long lines to enter all the rides, but Sarah didn't push him to go on anything. When they passed by the Haunted House ride, she did ask, “Wanna try it again?” Chance gave her a dirty look and they continued walking toward the boat docks so they could sit at the bar on the pier and watch the people walk by.
Sarah wore a tight pair of jeans, black high heels, and a black tube top. Her tits looked hot and she got more than her fair share of stares from other guys. Her hair was puffed up and wild, unusually big even for her. Her makeup was heavy, too; there was such a bold, thick line around her lips, she could have passed as one of the clown's helpers, or a drag queen. Chance was wearing a loose white polo shirt, baggy tan shorts and black half boots. He looked fine, but he wasn't cruising or hoping to meet anyone. He just wanted to walk around, take in the sounds and smells of summer and get away from Dan's Market.
When they reached the bar at the pier, Sarah ordered a beer and he ordered a dirty martini. They weren't there longer than thirty minutes when a guy wearing a Mets cap sat down next to Sarah and started talking. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, but he was a bit out of shape so it was hard to tell. He wasn't obese, just a paunch and a bloated face from too much beer. But that didn't stop Sarah from turning her back to Chance and talking with the guy as if she'd known him all her life. She smiled and giggled, and she kept gently brushing her long red fingernails against the guy's shoulder. Chance was surprised she didn't actually curtsy for him. The music was loud and people were shouting so Chance couldn't hear anything they were saying. When the guy leaned forward to order another round of drinks for them—Chance declined, but he liked the gesture—Sarah turned and whispered, “I'm not letting go of this one. He's hot for me."
Chance smiled. He was glad she'd met someone. She needed the ego boost. Most of all, she needed dick. “Just be careful. You don't know this guy."
"Actually, I kind of do know him,” she said, “It turns out that his father knows my father. And they live on the other side of the lake. His name is Mike."
He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “He's cute. I like him."
"Would you do him?” Sarah asked. She was always curious about Chance's taste in men, almost as if she were competing with him.
Chance leaned over and stared at Mike for a moment. He had good, strong muscular legs. His hands were large and his fingers were very thick. Chance sat back and said, “I like his hands. With hands like that, he probably has a big, thick dick. Yeah, I'd do him.” He wasn't telling a lie. If he'd been in a better mood and hadn't been thinking about Brody, he probably would have flirted with Mike. In the back seat of a car, he probably would have sucked him off too.
Sarah screamed and threw her head back, pretending to be shocked.
She loved to talk dirty with Chance, and she loved guys with big dicks. “I can't believe you just said that."
Chance knew she loved it. He spread his hands apart, about a foot wide, and said, “I'm telling you, there's a big fat dick down there. I would be on my knees in a second if I were alone with him. I'd make that boy's toes curl."
Sarah's new friend returned, and while they talked, Chance sipped his martini and listened to the music. He made sure he didn't make direct eye contact with anyone. He only wanted to sit there, swing his legs from the bar stool, and become numb. Then Sarah leaned back and poked him in the ribs, and the martini almost went all over his lap. “Omigod. Did you see who is over there?” she asked. She spoke quickly and her hands were moving as if she were waving to someone she hadn't seen in a long time.
He nodded no and shrugged his shoulders.
"Don't be obvious,” she said, “but slowly turn around and look at who is standing against the window near the pool table, sipping a beer.” She grabbed his knee hard. “He looks just like a bad little boy who is being punished."
Chance slowly turned and looked toward the window. He stopped breathing for a second and sat back. It was Brody, standing there all alone, sipping a beer, watching two women play pool. The moment Chance looked at him, he looked up too, and their eyes met. Then Brody quickly pressed his lips together and lowered his head. His fist clenched against his hip and it looked like he was ready to kick the pool table.
Chance took a deep breath and reached into his pocket for his car keys. “Ah, well, I'm getting the hell out of here. I didn't think we'd run into him tonight."
Sarah grabbed his knee harder, and leaned forward so she could press her lips closer to his ear. “Don't you dare move. We're not leaving until this guy offers to drive me home tonight. I'm going to get into his pants if it's the last thing I do. As a matter of fact..."
As Chance leaned forward and Sarah continued to ramble on about how much she needed a man, he didn't see Brody walk around the bar and right up to the back of his chair. Sarah saw him first. She looked up, blinked a few times and said, “Hey, how are you?"
Chance felt a push from behind, and his bar stool jerked forward a little. When he turned to find Brody, his stomach jumped a few times. “Ah, well ... hey,” he said. Then he turned a little to the right so his back would not be in Brody's face.
"So are you going to ignore me all night or what?” Brody asked.
Sarah's eyes grew wide before she turned around slowly and resumed her conversation with Mike.
"I wasn't ignoring you,” Chance said. This was all so high school; he really did want to leave. “I didn't even see you until Sarah did.” He crossed his arms and rested them against his chest, his fists clenched beneath his armpits. That had been an awfully presumptuous thing for Brody to say, and he wasn't going to let him get away with it.
"Well, I've been standing there since you walked in. I thought for sure you'd at least wave or something,” he said. His voice had become soft and calm, almost hurt. “I found the package on my front steps last week. Thanks for returning my sweats. They smelled really good."
"If I had seen you, I probably would have waved or something,” Chance said. “But as it happens, I didn't see you.” He refused to look him in the eye. He sat up straight and adjusted his shoulders. “I'm glad you found the sweatpants, though. I didn't want you to think I'd stolen them or anything."
Brody laughed, but he didn't have a chance to respond because Sarah tugged on Chance's arm and said, “Mike and I are leaving now. He'll drive me home."
Chance tilted his head and his eyes widened as he forced a smile and stared at her. He wanted to say, Don't you dare leave me here with him. But he couldn't say that aloud.
Brody smiled and placed his hands on Chance's shoulders. “You guys go on and have fun. I'll make sure he gets back to his car okay.” He patted Chance on the shoulder a couple of times.
Mike and Sarah stood. She laughed and said, “Oh, I'll bet you will."
When they were gone, Brody leaned forward and whispered, “I'm sorry I freaked out last week, man. It's just that I really like you, is all. I can't stop thinking about you."
Chance took a deep breath. When he exhaled, his shoulders slumped forward. “I like you too,” he said, “but I'm not in a great place right now, and it's not a good time to get serious with anyone.” He looked up and stared into Brody's blue eyes, and his heart thumped a few times and he felt a jerk between his legs. Brody looked good that night: He wore faded jeans and a tight green T-shirt with a black snake imprint across the front.
Brody leaned back and smiled, then he raised his hands."That's cool, man. We can be friends.” Then he leaned forward and whispered, “You want to take a walk back to the parking lot?"
Chance put his hand over his mouth and smiled. “I was just about to leave. You can walk me back to my car.” Then he turned and pointed his index finger. “But that's it. I'm getting into my car and going home early tonight. Just friends."
But on the way out of the bar, Brody reached down and touched his ass when no one was looking. Chance tried to walk faster but got stuck behind a couple of women who couldn't find their keys. As they waited, Brody squeezed his ass a few times. He pressed his lips together, reached back slowly, and smacked Brody's hand.
When they were out in the dark parking lot, Brody started to slip his hand down his pants. He tried to jerk away, but Brody grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him up against his side. “I thought we were going to be friends,” Chance said, pushing against Brody's hard chest to step back.
"We are,” Brody said. “We're going to be really good friends."
He tried to pull away, but Brody was fast. He put his arm around his waist, leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. When Brody's wet tongue entered his mouth, Chance's arms went limp and his penis started to swell. The harder Brody held him, the weaker he became. Their tongues pressed together and slowly rotated. He closed his eyes and saw beams of light he never knew existed. When they finally stopped kissing, he leaned into Brody's side and they walked slowly to the Cadillac.
It was a two-door convertible. When Brody opened the passenger door and pushed the front seat forward, Chance hesitated for a moment. He wasn't sure he wanted to get into the back seat with him again—it would only lead to more complications in his life. But Brody started to take off his shirt right there in the parking lot. Chance raised his hands and asked, “What are you doing now?"
"The past few times we've been together, all I did was unzip my pants and pull out my dick,” he said. “I want to get naked, too."
When he talked dirty like that, he smiled and his voice became deep and mysterious. He kicked off his shoes and pulled down his pants. He leaned against the open door to pull them off his feet. When he jerked at the fabric, he lost his balance and knocked into Chance. He grabbed Chance's shoulder for support, and his erection hit Chance's leg. He smiled, stood back, then pulled off his socks. When he was completely nude, he extended his right arm and made a gesture toward the back seat. “After you, baby,” he said.
Chance smiled and shook his head. It was dark enough to be private, but when he stared at Brody's body, his legs felt weak. It was actually the first time he'd seen the man naked in decent light. His shoulders were wide and solid. They tapered down past huge chest muscles, to a thin, tight waist with even more muscles in neat vertical lines. A slim line of dark hair began just below his chest and ran all the way down to his pubic hair. Chance took a deep breath and sighed. He could have hung a flag on Brody's erection; he could have wrapped two hands around the shaft and the head would still have popped out of his fist. When he looked down toward Brody's powerful legs, he reached forward with both palms and pressed them to his thighs, then went down on his knees and opened his mouth as wide as it would go.
He wanted to suck Brody off right there in the parking lot. He wanted to shove it in his mouth and just swing from it. But Brody tugged on the back of his head a
nd said, “Get up off the ground, bitch.” Then he nodded to the right, toward the back seat.
Chance was still on his knees, and his lips were already puffy and wet. “But I want to suck your big dirty dick,” he whispered. Brody had no idea how much he enjoyed having his face between his legs. He opened his mouth again, leaned forward and sucked both balls into his mouth. The sides of his face bulged while his head went left and right in semi-circular motions. Brody must have showered before he went out that night; he tasted like salty Ivory soap.
"C'mon baby,” Brody said, “Get in the back seat. You're going to get plenty of dick tonight.” He tugged his hair and pulled him back. Brody's wet balls dropped out of Chance's mouth.
Chance reached down and gathered Brody's clothes into a pile, then tossed them into the car. He stood and quickly removed all his clothes too, and threw them on top of Brody's. The gravel beneath his bare feet felt rough and prickly, and it almost tickled when Brody shoved the side of his large hand between his ass cheeks. He jumped into the back seat and Brody followed. It was only natural for Chance to go flat on his back and for Brody to fall on top of him. He spread his legs and lifted them high, wishbone style, so he could rest one foot on top of the back seat and the other on top of the front seat. His hard penis rested flat against his stomach, the tip directly on his navel. Brody started to bite and suck Chance's neck. Chance's back arched and his eyes rolled back. Brody sucked his soft flesh so hard, and his beard grazed the side of his face with such force, the thin line between pain and discomfort soon vanished into pure ecstasy. He held onto Brody's wide shoulders as tightly as he could, and it felt as if he couldn't spread his legs wide enough or arch his back high enough.
Brody kissed hard. His wiry tongue went all the way to the back of Chance's throat and pounded the interior of his mouth. And while he kissed, his hips started to buck and his erection drilled into Chance's pelvis. He was desperately looking for a place to put the big monster.
