by Laurie Lochs
"I'll grab the rest from the trunk."
After Shelly left to grab coffees, I left the auditorium and went to the car. The entire way, my heart was beating out of my chest. It’d only been a week since I blew Mitch in the locker room. But the memories of his thick cock in my mouth wouldn’t leave my goddamn head.
Smooth hips, chiseled jaw, gorgeous uncut cock.
I wanted to find a time machine and replay that moment every day for the rest of my life.
But I still didn’t know why I felt like such a pathetic schoolboy around him. It was almost like I'd never sucked a dick in my life.
Except… This wasn’t far off. Truth was, I was practically a gay virgin. Though I'd been in relationships with women, I'd only been with two men before Mitch. One was a bear like me, with chiseled abs and a stomach hairier than a woodland creature. The other was a skinny 19-year-old twink with a serious addiction to cock. He’d wanted me to fuck him at every turn, and at first I’d had no trouble spreading his hairless cheeks. But after a while, I couldn’t get hard at the sight of his hairless figure. His toned hairless body just didn’t do it for me, mostly because he wanted me to fuck him.
I wanted him to fuck me.
Yet there was something else different about Mitch, namely his gorgeous cock.
And my God, it was fucking beautiful.
Neither of my two boyfriends had cocks like his. They were both cut like me. When I jerked them, I needed to apply copious amounts of lube before stroking their shafts. At times, I’d run out of lube, primarily because I also needed lube to jerk my own cock or fondle my balls. I’d totally chafe without lube, and they would too.
But Mitch didn’t need lube. His beautiful pale foreskin canceled out the need for KY jelly. All at once, I wanted to drop to my knees and play with his foreskin. I wanted to place it between my teeth and suckle it, drawing the texture out and teasing it with my tongue. I loved how Mitch’s little pink cock head poked out from his soft rumple of skin like a small teddy bear in a cashmere sweater at Christmas. I wanted to tease his cock head, and make it my own.
I'd been going for thirsty twinks and bears like me. But I’d seriously overlooked my latent attraction to femme tops.
I opened the trunk and began looking for my tape measure. There was a shitload of work to do. Though the first bundle of 2x4s were inside, I still had to cut them into the perfect shape to begin the outline of the structure. It was a job that would take all morning, one that didn't even include calling my subcontractors to help when the project got further along the line.
I closed the trunk and began my way back to the Care Center. But all I could think of was Mitch. Sure, he’d help me discover my attraction for Queens. But the truth was I didn't just want any queen.
I wanted him. Even though he’d told me it was a one-time thing, I wanted more. I didn't care if we were in the Care Center or the locker room or my flat. I wanted to peel back that beautiful foreskin and taste his delicious cock again.
And then you want to wake up with him in the same bed, and put on a fresh pot of coffee, and sneak to the kitchen while he sleeps peacefully and whip up a delicious breakfast of turkey bacon and scrambled eggs.
It was true. I didn't just want Mitch’s sexy cock. I wanted to be his boyfriend.
And this was something I needed to avoid at all costs.
I hurried back to the auditorium. In the hallway leading to the stage, I bumped into Mitch. My heart fluttered when I saw him.
Fuck.
Mitch's cheeks turned bright red as he decided to speak. “I wasn't expecting to see you here so early."
“Ehh,” I said. “I’m fucking used to it. Get to work early, stay late. Take plenty of time off to suck cock and enjoy life.”
Mitch gestured to the wood in my hands. "Need help with your load?"
"If you're talking about the 2x4s, no thanks. But I might have to take you up on that offer if you’re talking about another type of load.”
“Uhhh. Hmmmm.”
My stomach sunk as his words flashed through my mind. It’s a one-time thing.
"It's whatever.” I gripped the wood tighter and issued Mr. Ice God a curt nod. I knew he was in the middle of work and trying to keep it professional. I didn't want to throw him off his game… But it was fucking hard. Especially because he looked fucking incredible in his tight khakis and checkered shirt, with his toned biceps jutting out of his chest. Though his abs were covered by soft fabric, I knew what lay underneath.
I couldn't let him get away.
“Look,” I grunted. “I know you have shit to do. And I'm in the middle of a project. But let’s get a fucking coffee. We’ll only be gone 30 minutes.”
"I'm not sure what to say."
“Uhh. I think the correct answer is yes.”
Mitch groaned. “I’d love to. Really. But I'm working, and I’m not going to be off until later tonight. I've got a lot of shit I need to do.”
“What if I pick the coffee up?"
“I’m telling you no.” Mitch clenched his fists. “Maybe some other time."
Mitch shot me a pity smile and continued down the hall. The second he left, I set my load on the ground and brought my hand to my chest.
Because holy shit, did that feel like a cold-ass rejection or what?
Stop, Luke. He’s busy.
Yeah, busy — as in, too busy to spend 15 minutes getting a coffee with me.
Suddenly, his ominous words from the locker room flashed back in my mind.
"We’re going to do this once. But we’re not going to repeat it. And this is the really important part, Luke. God help you if you mention it again.”
I bit my lip and headed to the auditorium, embarrassed as fuck.
11
Mitch
I took a deep breath and removed the Starbucks breakfast sandwich from the microwave. At once, the scent of fresh turkey bacon wafted up into my nose. At once, my grumpiness diminished and the struggles of the morning slipped away.
I only had five minutes for lunch. I had to eat fast.
I dug into the sandwich and closed my eyes. It was freaking delicious. I sipped water and tried to focus on lunch. But even the reheated sandwich couldn't take my mind off my morning interaction with Luke.
Even Denise would agree you were being a dick.
I grimaced. The truth was, I was busy this morning. But not nearly as much as I’d let on. I’d finished the bulk of my work regarding the Devante project yesterday, and I had time to burn. But when Luke appeared with his generous offer, I couldn't bring myself to accept. It was almost like something was holding me back, or getting in the way.
"Even for 15 minutes?"
My stomach sunk as I replayed his words in my head. All of a sudden, I wished I hadn't been such a bitch. Going out with Luke for coffee – even for an entire 30 minutes, which wouldn’t have been anything at all – would have been the absolute delight of my morning. I'd have loved to sit across from him at a little booth, in the corner of a cozy coffee shop somewhere, nestled snug and talking about nothing. My heart would've raced staring into his dreamy blue eyes, losing myself in them.
I closed my eyes. I could already tasted the hazelnut coffee I loved to get, a dash of almond milk bringing the drink together.
But it was too late. I’d already refused his offer.
I could only hope he didn't hold it against me.
I finished my lunch and washed my plate. When I returned to my office, Shelly slid a folder on my desk. My heart races when I read the name on the front.
Samuel.
Shelly cleared her throat. "I know you've been busy with Devante. But there's a new boy named Samuel. He's been getting into trouble at school. He needs guidance."
I gulped water and nodded. "Is he here?"
Shelly nodded. "Yes. I wanted to ask if I could send him in."
I smiled. "Absolutely. Tell him I'm waiting."
I cleared my desk. A moment later, a young-looking kid with floppy brown hair and
light eyes meandered into my office. He smiled, flipped his hair to the side, and sat down.
I folded my hands in front of me. "Are you Samuel?"
He smiled. "Yes. But everyone calls me Sam."
"And what brings you to the Care Center?"
Samuel stared pensively at my desk. "It's… Complicated."
I took another sip from the blue water bottle on my desk. I stared at Samuel's pensive face, trying to figure out his problems.
It was part of my job, reading students and determining what might affect them before they opened their mouths. Often, kids came to the center without any knowledge of what we did or what they needed. They'd gotten into trouble at school. All they knew is that they needed help turning their lives around.
I tried to piece together a profile of Sam. The report on my desk let me know he'd certainly got into trouble, but it wasn't for crimes or disrespect towards authorities. It looked like he'd simply gotten distracted one too many times in class and teachers were getting upset.
He sighed. "It started in math class. I used to excel in math. Every time there’d be a pop quiz, I’d ace it. But lately, it's like I can't focus at all. The lessons fly over my head. I know it's not difficult, but I just can't bring myself to pay attention."
"When did this start?"
Samuel bit his lip. "I don't know. But if I had to guess, I'd say last year. I'm a junior now, but last year, my parents divorced. I haven't been able to pay attention ever since."
"It's never easy when your parents divorce. I totally get what you’re saying, Sam."
"When I was 15, my parents separated after 10 years of marriage,” I continued. “I was their only kid. I found it difficult to pay attention in class and put forth the same amount of effort I had previously. But eventually, I found my way."
Samuel bit his lip. "I don't know if it's just the divorce, though. There just seems to be a lot going on."
I nodded. This was often part of the job. To get to the root of a problem, you sometimes had to peel away the layers children sometimes put up. It was time to go deeper.
"If you could do anything in the world, what would it be?"
A light burst across Samuel's face. "Drag," he blurted out, not bothering to temper his enthusiasm. "I'd be a drag queen. Hands down."
My jaw dropped open. "How old are you?"
"16," Samuel said with a grin. "I know I'm young, but I've performed in secret since I was a boy. I want to get on a stage so I can shine."
My heart warmed. "I'm not sure if you know this, but we actually do shows for the local youth every Friday. Usually, it's me or one of the other staff who puts on the performances. I love to dress up and lip-synch. Is that something you'd like to try?"
Samuel gasped. "Do you really think I could?"
I grinned. "I don't see why not. I could totally help you, too. I've got experience with it at the Care Center. It wouldn't be a problem at all."
"That would be freaking incredible. I’d love that more than anything in the world."
I smiled and led him across the room to the closet where I kept the bulk of my outfits. On the bottom row, I had five sets of heals, three tiaras, and a closetful of dresses that fit my slim figure. I handed him the new James Charles eyeshadow pallet and asked if he'd ever used makeup before.
Samuel blushed. "I experimented with my mother's when I was younger. But I never had the guts to buy my own."
I smiled. "It's not exactly something you'd want your parents to find around the house."
Samuel nodded. "I'd be mortified if they knew."
I squeezed his arm. "You don't have to worry here, Sam. This is a safe space. We won't tell."
Samuel was beaming. "Thank you, Mitch." He stared into my eyes. "This is going to be fucking awesome."
I burst into laughter. "We can finish our discussion later. How about you head into the recreation room and start working on your fiercest looks?"
Samuel moaned. "I'd love to. Thank you."
After he left, I couldn't help but think that if I had kids like Samuel all day, my job would be much easier. All it took was a little makeup and drag to turn his frown upside down. But the truth was I had more problem cases than not. I was confident Samuel would be all right. But what about the other tens of kids who needed my help?
It's why you can't stop working. They need you more than you need time for yourself. If you don't give everything you have, they might end up on the streets.
Chills shot through my body. All at once, my mind drifted to Luke. His firm arms, his beautiful eyes. I wanted to snuggle in bed with him the entire night.
But I knew I couldn't leave my work.
It was too important.
If Luke couldn't understand that, there was nothing I could do.
12
Luke
The next week
I took a deep breath and waited for Mitch to blow the whistle. It was our first scrimmage of the week. We were split into two teams and ready to shed blood.
Any other day, I would've found this exciting. But today, all I could think of was Mitch.
We hadn't even made eye contact in the dressing room. It was worlds away from last week, when I'd sucked his dick and played with his juicy foreskin and delicious shaved balls. Now, it was like I didn't even exist.
He was keeping his word, refusing to speak about it again.
I grimaced and clenched my fist through my gloves. Why the hell did I think it'd turn into anything more? Mitch had been clear from the start. I’d been unable to temper my expectations. Now I was paying the price.
The only thing left was give it my all in practice and work my attraction to Mitch out of my system.
Mitch blew his whistle to announce the start of the scrimmage. "Alright, sexy boys," he said with a grin. "You know just as well as I do we're the number one team in the league right now. We kicked Wayzata’s ass last month. There's no one above us. To keep that position, we have to work harder than ever. The other LGBT teams in the league are out for blood. They’ll be looking for any hint of weakness. We have to bring our A game."
The League nodded in agreement.
Mitch continued. "But I believe we can do it. We have to give it everything we got, but I know we can stay at the top."
"Especially with our brand-new mascot, Mr. Snuggles," Jacob added with a laugh.
The rest of the team grinned at the mention of Mr. Snuggles. I’d yet to meet the cute little duck but I knew he was a team favorite.
But Mitch didn't crack a smile. "It's time to focus. There's no time for lame ass jokes."
The rest of the team nodded in agreement. It was time to drop the puck.
Mitch blew his whistle. A second later, he sent the puck flying to the ice. The second the puck hit the glassy ice, I tore after it, struggling to get it from Stellan, who was on the opposing team.
The scrimmage heated up. Friendships were thrown aside to win. I dug my blades into the ice and hurried after the puck, dodging defensemen as I sought gold.
Yet 15 minutes later, I was still empty-handed.
Our team huddled. Brian, one of our defensemen, was the first to speak. “We're still 0-0. We need to stay strong to win the scrimmage."
We broke apart and returned to the ice.
Mitch dropped the puck again. This time, I let nothing hold me back. If I didn't give it all I had, I wouldn't be able to live it down.
Stellan got the puck. He began skating towards our goalie.
Oh hell no. This is so not going to happen, not under my watch.
I darted after him, dodging sticks and skates. At last, I reached him, and tore the puck away from his stick. His jaw dropped as I grabbed the puck.
"Hey!" he shouted, dashing after me. His eyes narrowed.
I ignored him and made a beeline towards the opposite goal. At last, I arrived. It was time to shoot my shot. I had to prove myself to Mitch. But before I could, my skates suddenly jutted into the ice and sent me flying.
I cried ou
t and tried to stop my fall, but it was no use. I tripped and crashed headfirst into the ice.
Stellan, who didn’t even notice, picked up the puck and hurried towards our goal.
I sighed and dusted myself off. But try as I might, I couldn't score another goal. It just wasn't going to happen.
At last, we headed back to the locker room. My knees were weak, and my heart was beating quietly in my chest. I tried to focus on undressing, but my mind was on Mitch. He was sitting across from me, and he hadn't looked up the entire practice.
A wave of exasperation washed over me. I wanted to curl up with Mitch, and place his beautiful cock in my mouth. I wanted to spread for him, and give him the most stunning and tight hole as a gift. If I couldn’t do that, I at least wanted to have a conversation with him that wasn’t strained and awkward as hell.
But Mitch was busy chatting with the other players. He wasn’t even paying attention to me at all.
Maybe your ex was right. Maybe the best thing to do is to forget personal relationships, charity, and good deeds. Just focus on your business. Money can never let you down.
I finished showering and changed into my work clothes. The rest of the team was already filing out of the room. I turned to leave. But before I could, Mitch suddenly approached me. His cheeks were bright red, and he looked like he wanted to shrink or sink into the floor.
He stared into my eyes and slipped me a piece of paper. “Hey,” he said quietly. The rest of the team filed out, leaving us alone in the dimly lit dressing room. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get a coffee this morning. I’m giving you my address, and I'd love to see you tonight. If you don’t want to come, that’s okay. But I’m beating myself up enough as it is, and I don’t want you thinking you were just a one-off hookup… Even though that’s kinda what I said. I might be acting like a little bitch but I really want to see you tonight.”
With a weak smile, he hurried out of the room.
I studied the address on the slip of paper Mitch had given me in the locker room and tried not to scream internally. My heart was racing. Mitch actually gave me his address? He wanted to see me?
