by V. L. Locey
“What are you doing?” I asked when he began pawing at my zipper with his free hand. “Let me help.” I added before he could answer my stupid question. It was obvious what he was doing and I was all for it. His hand, the one not holding my ice cream cone, slipped down into my underwear. My cock fit perfectly into his hand. We both groaned in pleasure, his mouth coming back to mine. He stroked me tip to base as his tongue dipped and swirled in my mouth. Then, he pulled away, shoved my cone into my right hand, slid off me, and pulled me by the ankles downward. My head bounced off the lining of the truck. The blanket was a wadded-up mess under my ass.
“Get these off and give me that back,” he said.
“Wait, just a minute. We need to talk about safe sex.” I hurried to slide in before the topic left my mind. Garrison blinked at me. “I need you to know that I’m negative. I get tested regularly.”
“Okay, cool. I’m clean too.” He reached for my shorts. I made a face that stalled him. “What?”
“I’d rather hear you say negative. When you say you’re clean it makes it sound like people with HIV are dirty.” I explained. He nodded in understanding. “You need to have this talk with every man you sleep with, and no bare backing.”
“Mal, I’m twenty-two, okay? I know about using condoms. Now can we please get you naked so I can get some of you?”
I wiggled out of my shorts and new blue briefs, kicked off my sandals, and nearly garroted myself trying to get my tank top over my head. My glasses ended up in my shirt. Garrison reached into the white shirt, removed my glasses tenderly, opened the rear window, and dropped them gently onto the cab seat. It made me weak in the knees when this big, tough baseballer showed such tenderness. Then he smashed my ice cream cone between his hands.
“Hey!” I shouted in anger. My ire only lasted a second. Garrison then took those big, messy hands and placed them on my chest. I sucked in a sharp breath when the cold ice cream touched my skin. Then it melted and began running downward and over my ribs. Garrison braced his big body over me, resting on his hands and knees, and then lowered his head and ran his tongue through the sloppy mess of melting ice cream and crumbled cone. “Oh…oh…oh…”
My mind began to disengage as his tongue moved over my chest, flicked each nipple, and then went lower. He rubbed his face against my flesh, nipped at my navel, and licked a hot trail to my cock. I bucked and writhed at the first contact of his lips to my dick. His tongue darted out to lap up some pre-cum.
“I’m not sure which tastes better,” he said as he bumped my cock with his nose. “You or the ice cream.”
“Compare and see.” I panted and heard him chuckle roughly. He knelt between my spread legs, unable to lie down due to the tailgate, and bent over my cock, cupping my balls with one tacky hand while squeezing my dick with the other. I found the blanket and wrapped my hands deep into it. Since he had no experience with men, this had to be his first attempt at giving one a blowjob. As much as I wanted – no needed – to grab his head and fuck his mouth like a lusty maniac, I forbade myself from doing so. I wanted him to enjoy this experience as much as I was going to. Yes, I knew this was going to be one hell of a BJ even if he his technique was terrible. This was Garrison and he was loving me. How the hell could it not be glorious?
Every inept swipe of his tongue along my length made me tremble. His approach needed refinement but what he lacked in expertise he made up for in exuberance. He wasted little time with teasing and went right to sucking as hard and fast as he could. I balled the blanket tighter around my hands, closed my eyes, and let the sounds, smells, and sensations of this moment settle over me like the fine mist on this humid southern night.
He had tremendous suction. I was a quivering mass in no time, whimpering for him to finish me off so I could get my mouth on him. He pulled off with a pop that sent tremors directly to my balls.
“I have to see you come,” he said as he licked his way back up my chest. His hand picked up the rhythm of his mouth as he worked on cleaning up the mess he had made. My hips left the blanket, and my back bowed. I came hard, crying out something about sprinkles. Or perhaps it was his name. I didn’t recall, and it wasn’t important in the grand scheme of things. Garrison pumped me roughly then when my wild thrashing calmed, he dipped his head down to my belly and tentatively lapped up some spunk.
“It’s a tie.” He informed me then ran his tongue along my body as if I was a meaty basted bone and he was a hungry dog. I moaned as I watched him cleaning up ice cream and semen, the moon shining off his dark hair. He took his time, tonguing ribs and nipples with equal zeal. I wiggled and snickered. Garrison chortled each time I squeaked or tried to wriggle away, not that I wanted to go far. Nope, I wanted to stay close. I wanted to give him some pleasure. Shame all the ice cream was now smeared and drying on our skin. “Did you like that?”
“You have to ask?” I huffed as he nibbled on a bit of skin on my side.
“Yeah, I do.”
I slipped from his grasp and rolled to my side, gently pushing on his shoulder until he gave in and went to his back. The sounds of the night were soft and soothing, crickets and the occasional sound of a car back on the road. Perhaps we should have been more concerned about being seen, but no one ever used the track this late at night, and we were desperate to be together.
“It was incredible.” I told him as I wiggled my ass between his thick legs. He leaned back, his hands under his head, and studied me intently. I freed his cock and curled up around him, tucking my knees into his legs.
“Show me how to do it right,” he said as I cupped his balls and squeezed. “Ah, shit.” I rolled the large orbs tenderly, my lips gliding up and down the underside of his cock. “Oh man, that’s fucking amazing.” Garrison began gyrating to get his shorts off. I wanted them where they were, tightly up against his nuts. The pressure on his balls would add to the sensations. Also, those bands of elastic and cloth would keep my fingers away from his ass. Maybe. Right now, with the head of his cock leaking on my tongue, all I could think about was sucking him off while I fucked him. That, of course, was impossible for anyone with a skeleton but the desire was still there. He wasn’t ready for anal, not yet, or at least I didn’t feel he was. Garrison, as it turned out, had other ideas as time ticked onward and I got him closer to the summit.
“Are you close?” I asked after ten minutes or so of me bringing him to the edge then backing off.
“Yes, yes.” He growled, his one sticky hand on my biceps, the other clinging to the side of the truck for dear life. “I need more. You know, more of you inside me.”
A wild rush of bright red lust seared my mind. The only thing stopping me was the fact that I had no lube and losing your virginity in the back of a pickup truck wasn’t how I wanted this to go with Garrison. He deserved a soft bed, lots of preparation, and a gentle introduction to bottoming. Right now, if I climbed on him, it might turn him off the whole idea and that was something I did not want to have happen. My first time had been less than ideal. I wanted Garrison to have better. I pulled his shorts down with a quick jerk. So much for my lofty ideals.
“Just a tease for now.” I told him then sucked loudly on his swollen glans, my index finger toying with his perineum. He cursed as only a jock can curse but the cussing died down when I rubbed the tip of my finger over his opening. His breath left him in a rush. His ass came up from the bed of the truck. I allowed just a bit of my finger to press into him. He shouted my name and came. I swallowed greedily while his muscles contracted tightly around my finger. He nearly threw me off once, his thrashing was that violent. It made me proud as a peacock to know I could bring him this much pleasure.
“Dear God. Dear God, oh shit. Dear God.” Garrison breathlessly repeated while his body slowly unwound. I spent lots of time afterward caressing his balls, pressing kisses to his sticky sweet cock, and whispering how delicious he was while I blew cooling air over his prick. “Okay, wow, yeah, I totally see how much better it is getting head from a man.”
“I think I’ll stick with you,” he said and my buttons would have burst if I had been wearing a shirt. The realization that I was naked and cradling my lovers spent cock in my hand began to sink in.
“I like the sound of that.” I told him then began to tuck his cock back into his shorts. “I need to get dressed. What if someone else pulls up here to eat ice cream and get randy with a baseball playing stud?”
Garrison made a sound of amusement but did sit up and scope out the area as I felt around for my clothes.
“We’re clear.” He announced just when I located my shorts. He grabbed me from behind and rolled me over onto him. His mouth came down on mine, and I opened for him, eager to let him get a taste of himself. He always kissed so aggressively. I loved it. My hand went to the back of his head and we tumbled back down to the blanket, his lips tight to mine, his hand creeping downward. When he cupped my balls, I should have stopped him, but I liked the feel of his rough palm cradling my nuts. “I think I’m addicted to you. Kissing you is like getting a shot of smelling salts or something.”
I made some sort of sound then pulled his mouth back to mine. Things would have been racing down Lusty Lane again if not for the sharp horn of a passing car. Garrison startled badly. I did as well. The car flew past with some idiotic guy yelling Garrison’s name. That changed everything in the rear of the truck instantly. Garrison released me and flopped to his back. I shoved my feet into my shorts, dirt biting into my bare ass, as the shouts of what had to be one of our old school friends died off.
“Fuck wads.” Garrison murmured while I got dressed. I found my briefs in the corner of the cab and shoved them into my front pocket. Then I sat down beside Garrison and let my head come to rest on his shoulder. “I think that was Crocker Arnold. I never liked him.”
“Oh yes, Crocker, I remember him. He’s the one that tripped Preston Morton during commencement just to get a laugh from his pack of slobbering morons.”
“Yep, and he’s also the same guy who shoved you into your locker then wrote fag on it.” He snarled and craned his head to glower at the now empty stretch of road.
“I was trying to forget that.” I sadly sighed.
“Getting suspended for a week for shoving Crocker’s face into the tub holding the pickled frogs was definitely worth it.”
“They weren’t pickled, they were preserved in formaldehyde.”
“Whatever.”
I sat up and looked at his profile. The moon touching his face did mystical things to him and my heart. His hair was standing up at random angles, probably from the dried ice cream. We were both covered with chocolate, body fluids, and a few dozen mosquito bites I wagered.
“Are you feeling as good about us as I am right now?” I asked. A smile slowly pulled up the corners of his kissable mouth.
“Oh yeah,” he replied and took my hand in his. “I know this is really hard on you, hiding shit, hiding us, but I just need time, okay? Promise me you’ll hang in there while I try to figure out how to tell my parents.”
“Of course I’ll hang in there.” I lifted our joined hands to my lips. “I know how hard it is. You can do this, though, Garrison. Once you do, you’ll be amazed at how light you feel.”
“I know, I know, it’s just…” He exhaled theatrically instead of trying to put it to words. “I’m so glad Emily told me you were going to be at math camp. Having you back in my life, at my side, loving me, it’s giving me the strength to face what I’ve been hiding from for so long.”
I held the back of his hand to my cheek. There were no words that captured how I felt right then, so I didn’t say anything. I just snuggled closer and breathed in Garrison and the night.
Ten
I snuck into the house at ten after one never expecting to see my father climbing the stairs to the second floor with a bottle of antacid in his hand. I froze as our eyes met. He smiled for a moment and then his smile faltered as he took a good look at me. I pushed my filthy, ice creamy finger-printed glasses back up my nose. Dad’s attention seemed to be riveted to the pocket my underwear was peeking out of, so I shoved my hand into my pocket to tuck in my briefs.
He came back down the steps and stood directly in front of me. I waited for him to say something so I could come up with a fitting lie. How I’d cover up the fact that I had sprinkles in personal places was beyond me, but I had a sharp mind. Coming up with a feasible untruth should be relatively—
“You were with Garrison tonight?”
“Yes.”
His gaze lingered on my neck, went down to the underwear in my pocket, and then came back to my face. My cheeks grew warm.
“No other young men, just Garrison?”
“Yes, just Garrison,” I replied honestly. I had never been able to lie to my father. He and I were all the other had and lying to him made me physically sick.
“Is he the one who left marks on your neck?”
“Yes.” I knew the cat was out of the bag in a big way.
“Are you and Garrison fooling around?”
“Yes.”
“Are you two having sex?”
“We’re very close to it, yes.”
“Is Garrison gay?”
“I believe so but he hasn’t identified or told his parents.”
Oh good, that was well played, O’Malley. No, really, you just outed the man you’ve loved since first grade. Brilliantly done, old chap, brilliantly done.
“My God, O’Malley. He’s your best friend.” He had to place his Mylanta on the side table beside the front door his hand shook so strongly. I turned to throw the deadbolt then faced my clearly stunned father again. “To say I’m shocked would be an understatement. I thought you mistrusted him.”
“I do, but now that I have all the facts about why he hid from me, I don’t mistrust him as much as I previously did.”
“Well, obviously if you two are having sex.” He began chewing on his bottom lip as he stared holes through me. “And here Joan and I were just tickled to death to see that you and he had mended fences and were talking to each other again.”
“If it helps any, I’m just as stunned by the turn of events as you are,” I said and motioned to our sofa. He and I took a seat, the antacid forgotten. I so wanted a shower. I was afraid I smelled of sex and curdling ice cream. Does ice cream curdle when smeared into the skin?
“I think I’m going to need to hear this story from the very beginning, son.” Dad murmured so I sat back and let it all out. When I say everything, I mean everything. All the way back to that night in the treehouse when Garrison and I first discovered each other as sexual beings. When I was done with all the details – minus the juicy ice cream ones of course – I sat beside my father, my gaze on the pictures of my mother hanging on the wall over the TV.
“Did you in any way tempt him into experimenting with homosexuality?”
My gaze flew from my mother to my father. “Of course not, and it doesn’t work like that. I mean, could a gay man tempt you into trying out queer sex?” I snapped and shot to my feet to pace the living room.
“I’m sorry. I know that, son, I truly do. I’m just discombobulated. This is just not Garrison. He’s always been such a popular young man with the girls.” He turned on the couch to follow my circles.
“Guess he had everyone fooled, now didn’t he?” I replied with sass. My father crossed his arms over his blue pajama top as his eyes narrowed.
“I don’t appreciate your tone, O’Malley. I’m doing my best to wrap my mind around the news that my son is having sex with his best friend, who until very recently was straight.”
I stopped pacing and looked right at my father. “No, he was not straight. He’s never been straight. He’s been hiding his attraction to men because he’s afraid of what his parents will think.” Dad blinked at me. “He’s also scared
to let it be known that he finds guys attractive because of the stigma attached to being an LGBTQ athlete.”
“Did they add more letters since you came out? I swear I can’t keep up,” he asked and the look of total confusion on his face erased some of the aggravation I had been feeling. I padded over and sat back down beside him.
“They may have added a couple,” I said then placed my hand on his knee. “Dad, I know this is a shock and that you need time to assimilate—”
“You can say that again.” He muttered then glanced over his shoulder for the Mylanta bottle.
“You have to keep this to yourself.” I implored. “This is something that Garrison has to do on his own time. Please, promise me you won’t say anything to Mr. & Mrs. Rook.”
“No, of course not,” he said, and I believed him. He might have some trouble with additional letters and dealing with confused queer athletes, but he was a good man. He would not breathe a word. “Make sure you don’t allow Emily to see you two…” He waved a hand around in a circle.
“She already knows about us.” I stated and his eyes went round. “She’s the one who told Garrison I was at G.R.A.M.S. camp so he could volunteer. She wanted him and me to spend time together, to work things out.” A stupid half-smile twisted my lips. “I don’t think she assumed we’d work things out quite so well. I know I didn’t, but there it is.” I spread my hands apart. “I think she’s our biggest cheerleader. She really wants him and me to be a couple.”
“Is that what you want, O’Malley?” Dad quietly asked before he got to his feet and walked over to get his antacid. I watched him take a big gulp then burp loudly. “Oh, that is so much better. Remind me to avoid garlic bread from now on.” He turned to look at me, a blue bottle that matched his pajamas in his hand. “Do you want something to develop with Garrison?”
