Screwed

by Van Barrett

  But the way he said it? He squeezed his eyes shut and quickly nodded. Almost as if he was feeling guilty.

  “Something wrong?” I asked.

  “N-no.” Liam sighed. “Oh, damn, that's good.”

  I loved to stroke him. My first cock. I could feel his heart pumping and throbbing through his shaft. I could feel the rhythm of his arousal—how, when he was extra sensitive, and came too close to the edge, his cock swelled real fat and huge.

  That's when I gave it to him fast and hard—because that's how I always liked it. I jerked him crazily and wildly, with his nutsack swinging and flopping around, and Liam started to make worried gasps and sighs …

  … And that's when I backed off again, with slow, deep pulls, up and down his shaft. Until he was whining for more.

  And I wanted to give him more. Because even though my first handjob was going well, I came prepared for more.

  I started to scoot my creeper seat down.

  “Where are you going?” Liam asked as he tried to catch his breath.

  I didn't answer. I just parked my seat at the foot of his. And then I climbed aboard Liam's seat and sprawled between his legs.

  “Oh my God,” Liam muttered. “I don't know if this is a good idea, Paul!”

  “You'd really turn down a blowjob?” I chuckled doubtfully. I teased him by running my nails along his shaft, until his cock jumped with eager excitement, and his hips thrust in the air towards me. “Because it sure seems like you want it.”

  “Oh my God,” Liam panted quietly. “This is so wrong … and you're so persistent.”

  Me? Persistent? I thought with a proud smirk.

  Something about that comment reminded me of my date with Leena. Like, when she told me that I had exactly no game. Turns out I did have game. I was just playing for the wrong team all along.

  I never felt more sure of myself as that moment—when I wrapped my lips around the head of Liam's cock and took him in. I let out a muffled moan of surprise as his warm cock slid between my cheeks. I hadn't expected his penis to feel so warm, so alive. I hadn't expected him to taste so good, either. His flesh was warm and nutty, almost like almonds.

  “Oh, Paul,” he sighed as he surrendered to my mouth. He clutched a fistful of my hair and held on while my head bobbed up and down his length.

  I did all the things to him that he'd done to me just a day earlier. I slithered my tongue all around his hard, throbbing shaft while I swallowed him deeper. I sucked and slurped at his balls, putting on a noisy, sloppy show.

  A look of pure troubled torture filled Liam's eyes as he watched me give head underneath his car. He obviously loved getting blown in the shop—so why did he look a little panicky?

  I took his manhood out of my mouth with a loud pop.

  “No one ever comes to the shop after hours, if you're worried about that,” I reassured him. I paused to tongue his balls. “I should know, since I'm the only one who ever stays past closing.”

  Liam gulped. “No … it's not that.”

  “Then what is it?” I asked.

  But I didn't wait to hear his answer. Instead, I threw my lips over the tip of his cock and pushed down, letting his warm thickness fill my mouth again.

  “Ooooh,” Liam howled. “That feels so fuckin' good, Paul.”

  That's what I like to hear. I grinned—as much as a guy can grin with a cock in his mouth, anyway.

  And then it started to happen: I felt Liam's cock swell and turn as hard as steel in my mouth. Knowing that he was close, I thrashed my tongue all along his underside, coaxing him to cum.

  “Paul!” Liam panted in warning. “You're gonna make me cum!”

  I slurped him faster, harder, sloppier, and Liam's noises grew wild and loud.

  “Fuuuck!” he yelled, his hips thrusting into my mouth.

  I pulled off him just in time to finish him with my hands. His cheeks turned peachy pink, and his cock throbbed in my hands, as one long thread of his spunk streaked upward.

  Liam blasted his cum everywhere—his shirt, the car's exhaust pipe, he even hit his own face. And I didn't stop stroking until he was done shooting.

  When he was done, all he could do was try to catch his breath with his face buried in his hands.

  I crawled up his body and stole a kiss. Curious, I lapped my tongue at the dollop of cum on his cheek and tasted him.

  Salty … but sweet … and kind of metallic.

  The taste of cum only made me crazier. I swooped in and kissed Liam again and again. I wondered if he could taste himself on my tongue? Something about that thought made the wild fire inside me burn hotter.

  But Liam pushed me away.

  “Wait, wait,” he said.

  “What?”

  “I need to catch my breath.”

  I eased off. “… Okay.” I frowned. “Did—did you not like it?”

  “No,” Liam said. “It's not that. Believe me, it's not that.” He whispered into my ear: “Paul … you just made me cum so unbelievably hard.”

  I felt my heart swell with pride. I nestled closer to his ear and lowered my voice to a whisper, too. “Good to know.”

  “You sure you haven't sucked dick before?” he whispered again.

  Playfully, I slugged his shoulder. “Pretty sure, yeah. … But why are we still whispering?”

  “Argh,” he muttered under his breath. “I just—I can't believe we did that. Here. Under this car.”

  “I don't get what's so unbelievable about that?”

  Liam couldn't find the words to reply. He only twisted his bottom lip, his eyes heavy with that tortured look again.

  “I thought it'd be hot,” I said, a touch defensively.

  He touched his palm to my cheek. “It was, Paul.”

  “Good,” I said, and I started to scoot my seat out from underneath the car. “Come on out, then, I wanna show you something.”

  Once we were both out from under the car, I took Liam over to the lift's control panel and pressed a button. The hydraulic lift extended, raising Liam's Legend higher into the air until we had enough clearance to walk under it.

  I thought I was real slick, and was certain Liam would like the way I'd planned that. Eat your heart out, Leena! I do have game!

  But my cocky smile faded when I turned around and saw the red-hot anger in Liam's eyes. He folded his arms righteously.

  Uh oh.

  “So … we didn't have to be sliding around under the car in the first place? You could've just pressed that button, and we could've stood under the car like normal?”

  I scratched the back of my head. I didn't get why he was so upset about it. “Er. Yeah?”

  “Wow, Paul.” Liam huffed. “'Creeper seat' is right.”

  “Shit. Sorry. I didn't think it'd make you mad.”

  “I'm not mad … I just … ugh.” Liam sputtered like an engine running too lean.

  “It's my bad, Liam. Once you agreed to come over, I started to get all excited, thinking about how I wanted to kiss you but … how I was too afraid.”

  Liam frowned with sympathy. “Please. Don't feel bad. It was a sexy idea, Paul. I'm just …”

  He trailed off again, with a frustrating shake of his head.

  “What?” I asked, urging him.

  “I have no idea what to do now, Paul.”

  “Do about what?” I asked, and suddenly, I was feeling suspicious. “Do you have a boyfriend or something? Is that why you're acting all sketched out? Are you a fuckin' cheater?”

  “No! God no.”

  “Then what the hell's bothering you, dude?”

  With a heavy expression, Liam silently glanced upwards, at the undercarriage of his Legend.

  Oh, is that it? He feels bad about his car?

  I waved him off. “Oh, don't worry about it. I'll give you your keys. When Carl asks me, I'll tell him you came by after-hours. He won't know I had anything to do with it.”

  “No … it's not that, either.”

  My shoulders dropped. This was star
ting to get maddening. “Then what, dude? The guessing game is starting to drive me nuts here.”

  Liam wrestled with some inner decision. And for a second, I really thought he might tell me what had him so worked up. But then he made a gesture that his lips were sealed, and he couldn't tell me.

  “I wish I could tell you. I really do.”

  I laughed. “Well. Okay. Whatever.”

  “Can you take my car down now?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  I lowered the lift until Liam's car came down. I hopped in, backed it out of the garage, and climbed out.

  Liam climbed into the driver's seat, looking guilty as hell. We stared at each other through the open window.

  “Thanks for, uh, the car tutorial, Paul.”

  “Yeah. You bet,” I said with a frown.

  “I guess I won't have you guys do that work after all, then. So …”

  Was he about to say goodbye?

  But I cut in before he could. “Uh. I was wondering if you wanted to hang out sometime. Grab a burger or a beer maybe. Watch some sports if you're into that.”

  Liam closed his eyes, like he hated what he was about to say. “I don't think that's a good idea, Paul.”

  “Why not?”

  “We're—we're different people.”

  My eyes narrowed. “What, because you're a doctor and I'm a mechanic? Is that what you're getting at? You think I'm this dumb idiot, 'cause I work with cars, don't you?”

  “No … that's not it … trust me, nothing could be further from the truth.”

  “Then what else could it be?” I asked.

  Liam gave me a heavy look—like he was hoping I'd be able to solve his riddle, because he wasn't going to be able to tell me. But at this point, I was beyond frustrated playing the guessing game. So I just threw my arms up instead. “Whatever, man. See ya.”

  Liam sunk lower into his seat as he eased the car forward and left Scud's.

  And I watched him drive off with a sinking of my own.

  Where the heck did I go wrong? I didn't understand. For a second there, I really thought I'd figured something out. I really thought that guys would be less trouble than girls. But now, I wasn't so sure.

  Maybe it was just … me.

  Maybe something about me just forced people away.

  I searched the smooth lining of my inner-cheeks with my tongue, desperate to find another trace of Liam's bittersweet taste.

  Different people, I thought, turning that phrase over and over in my head. Whatever.

  Chapter 13

  Slept In

  Liam

  Back in the parking lot of my apartment, I sat in that damned car, anxiously pondering my next move. Only, there wasn't a next move.

  Tell Angela what happened between me and Paul? I'd get fired.

  Lie to Angela instead, and say that Scud's wouldn't do the work? The station would eventually get around to checking the cameras, and I'd still end up getting fired.

  Drive this car off a cliff, and have all its incriminating evidence go up in a raging ball of flames? Fired and possibly jailed. (Surprisingly, though, maybe not the worst option!)

  Either which way I turned, I'd walk right into a trap. Like a chess master without a single good move left on the board. Or a military general who found himself suddenly surrounded on all fronts.

  Except I didn't have anywhere near the level of intelligence or discipline or forethought that either of those had. I was just a freakin' intern at Miami 8 News. The longest-tenured intern, at that. A college grad who, up to his eyeballs in debt, wasn't even smart enough to get a paycheck for his work.

  I was a guy who was finally handed his big break … only to completely blow it by, well … getting blown by the mechanic.

  Caught on camera. My own camera.

  Think about that. The absurdity of that: an investigative reporter caught red-handed in his own sting.

  That's what we call an epic fail.

  Actually—maybe I'm not thinking big enough. Maybe that could be the report, instead?

  Shocking news! We sent our intern-turned-investigative-reporter to get screwed by a disreputable Miami mechanic … and you won't believe what happens next! (Cue the 90's porn music.)

  It'd get the station a lot of views, anyway—right?

  “Liam, you're being ridiculous,” I said aloud and slapped my forehead—an act that I knew was also being recorded.

  Frantically, I searched again for the cameras … but my desperate searching still turned up nothing.

  Why the hell couldn't you have just stopped Paul, you idiot? Did you really have to let him do all that? Couldn't you have stopped him at the kiss? Hell, couldn't you have gone literally anywhere else to fool around with him?

  I guess I'd just gotten too caught up in the moment.

  Again.

  Paul just had that effect on me, I guess. Something about that guy forced me to abandon all reason, all logic, any idea of right or wrong or how our actions would affect the future.

  And that was still true. Because seeing his sad, puppy-dog face as I drove off from Scud's almost killed me on the inside. I wanted, so badly, to come clean to Paul—right then and there. To tell him everything, about the report, about me not being a doctor, about the cameras on the car.

  But even if I did tell him—what would happen then? The report wouldn't get done … thus I would still get fired … and Paul would probably end up feeling hurt, lied to, and betrayed (like he should!), and tell me to get lost.

  In moments like these, you can only sit and turn a scenario in your head over and over so many times before your temples start to ache and throb and you feel like you're losing your mind.

  “Okay, enough!” I snapped.

  I climbed out of the car and hurried into my damned apartment, knowing I'd need a stiff drink before I could finally pass out.

  ***

  The next morning.

  My phone clattered noisily against my nightstand. That awful noise only made my foggy, aching head worse. I took refuge under a pillow, letting out a groan like a dying animal.

  That stiff drink I needed to pass out last night might have turned into two or three.

  When the phone's racket ended, I lifted the pillow from my head and groaned.

  I could tell by how bright the sun was against my bedroom blinds that I'd overslept. By a lot. I grabbed my phone and checked the time.

  12:17 PM.

  “Holy shit,” I mumbled.

  Numerous missed calls, all from Angela, greeted me a good morning.

  I took a minute to gather my composure before I called her back.

  “Liam! Where the heck are you?”

  “Sorry. I slept in. I'm sick.”

  She paused. “Oh? With a case of the brown bag flu?”

  “Yeah,” I groaned with shame. “What gave it away?”

  “Usually, sick people call in before noon.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Well, … what's the status on our car?”

  I sat up and peeked through the blinds, spying the Acura Legend sitting ominously in the parking lot.

  “Um, Scud's called me back last night, and I told them to do the job. Other than that, I guess we're stuck in a holding pattern.”

  “Well. Alright. Good to know everything's moving forward, at least. Feel better.”

  “Thanks.”

  And with that, she hung up.

  ***

  Breakfast and coffee had me feeling like a new man, thankfully, albeit a new man with the same old problems.

  I wasn't sure what to do about that damn car. Every time I looked at it in the parking lot, it seemed to mock me. It reminded me of my lies and bad decisions and how, frankly, something bad had to happen next before things could get better.

  There wasn't anyway out of this situation without a bit of pain.

  The thing that killed me the worst? I really liked spending time with Paul. As much as I regret what we did, I was more upset about where we did it,
rather than the fact that we did do it.

  And, y'know, the terrible fact that I'd made myself out to be something that I was not. I'd betrayed Paul's trust from the very beginning. Which sucked, because I wanted to be honest with him. I just couldn't.

  Because of my job.

  The job that paid me no money. The job that I'd already sacrificed a serious relationship to.

  And call me crazy, but it felt like it was happening again. Because, with Paul? I liked the small amount of time we'd spent together. Not just because he was a hot guy, but because he seemed like such an honest, thoughtful guy. And I wanted to spend more time with him. Get to know him. See if there was anything there—beyond just a surface connection.

  But that meant, of course, revealing myself to him. And I knew there was a good chance he'd hate me if I ever did that.

  Oh man, what do I do?

  Chapter 14

  Zero Quality Guys

  Paul

  I was the first at the shop in the morning, like always, and I whistled a little tune while I opened the garage.

  I'll admit. Seeing that Liam's car wasn't right back in our parking lot gave me a breath of relief. Part of me was afraid he'd swing by at some point in the night and drop his car off. Sometimes it seemed that guy acted like we were the only mechanics in town.

  But another part of me was a little sad, because I wondered if that meant I wouldn't see him anymore. He didn't exactly leave on the best of terms, after all.

  I wasn't sure what I'd done that got him so upset. Yeah, okay, I could've been more honest, I guess? Like, I didn't need to have his car so low on the lift, that the two of us needed to lay side by side under it …

  But … that was my lame attempt at making romance, I guess? Honestly, my heart was pounding the whole time before I kissed him. I don't think I would've had the guts to do it if I hadn't planned things that way.

  Hell, maybe Leena was right, maybe I don't have any game. Because even when I think I'm doing things right, I'm still somehow doing them wrong.

  I grabbed the keys to a customer's car, drove it into the garage and onto the lift, and got started on my day.

  ***

  I was busy rebuilding a brake caliper when Carl arrived at work an hour later. A few minutes later, he came storming into the garage, shouting my name.