The seventies were a raucous, free and naive time of sexual awakening, coupled with kink and uninhibited exploration before the onset of AIDS in the early `eighties. They were an exciting, brash and irreverent time during which to come out.
The Disco Era was in high-volume, uninhibited dance fever mode. Someone I had heard of, Steve Rubell' had opened up Studio 54' in Manhattan a while back. Love Hangover' by Diana Ross', Everybody Dance' by Chic' and Disco Inferno' by The Trammps' were part of the top chart singles on the radio. Saturday Night Fever' and Star Wars' premiered at the theatres that year. And television gave us Dallas', The Jefferson's' and `Charlie's Angels'.
Amidst all the tacky glitter and overblown excitement of 1977 there were still those of us in small-towns and cities right across Canada, anxious and scared while at the same time curious and excited to get away to find ourselves.
On a good day, we can get maybe thirteen television channels on our cable TV box at home. And that's about the only way the outside world ever penetrates the shuttered life I live in as a young gay kid with an overactive libido and typical teenage sexual fantasies and urges.
"Aaron, I need you to go and pick up a prescription for me at Fullerton's today. Mrs. Fullerton called me to let me know that the balance of my Valium and Tofranil are finally in now. When you are downtown this afternoon, would you please pop in there and speak with either her or Adam Blanchard? I've to let them know you'll be going in for me. And they'll just charge it to my account with them. Will you do that for me darling please?"
"Uhm, sure. No problem."
Meanwhile I'm thinking, oh boy! Another chance to check out Adam. Adam Blanchard is the pharmacy assistant at Fullerton's and just about the best-looking guy I think I've ever seen in Brockville. He always manages to get me flustered. And I'm sure I always get red in the face whenever I have to go into Fullerton's to pick something up for Mom. I think he knows it too. I know Adam works late most nights at the store. I know a lot about Adam actually. I doubt he knows anything about me though and probably barely notices me the times I come into the drug store for my Mom. He's the first guy I've ever had any kind of a crush on in any serious way.
We live in a small, conservative eastern Ontario border city named Brockville just across the river from Upstate New York. Some smart-ass years ago sarcastically coined the nickname `Brock Vegas' for the city.
I've yet to meet `Ann Margret' on King Street however ...
I turned nineteen back last December and am still living at home with my parents until I head off to Algonquin College in Ottawa in a few months' time. I'm still technically a virgin, albeit one with a vivid imagination and with more than enough experience using my right hand to jerk off as often as possible. That being said, I walk around half hard most of the time obsessing about having sex with Adam. He's so sexy and handsome. I doubt he'd even give me a second look. And in my naiveté and shyness, I'd never deliberately do or say anything to give him any impression that I thought he was a hunky guy and that I liked him.
Brock Vegas wasn't exactly Sin City after all.
July 17th, 1977...
It's just another humid summer midnight for me in Brock Vegas. I'm out trying to walk off some of my pent-up sexual frustration and am in front of the Brockville Restaurant when gradually, I start to hear the hesitant protests and sounds of an old car slowly cruising up behind me. To my surprise, it's Adam... I recognise his old car. I'm shocked and feel a secret sense of guilty pleasure knowing he and I are alone on this deserted street with no one else around at this early hour of the morning.
His car is old. A real beater of a coupe. I'm surprised it's still on the road. He goes past me and I stop to look at him and his car closely. His old, poorly-tuned car idles roughly as though it's about to stall out on him at any minute. I recognize it to be a silver grey, rusted-out, `67 AMC Ambassador SST two door coupe that has definitely seen much better days.
He keeps on going past and disappears, turning right at a corner about six blocks ahead onto Perth Street.
A few minutes later, I turn that corner and Adam is pulled over by the side of the dark shadows. He's trying to start his car. He's stranded and has managed to steer it off to the side of the street. I know Perth Street is a pretty bad area of town to have your car stall out or break down totally on you.
His starter whines and grinds away and cranks and cranks. But his old coupe just won't turn over for him. Bluish, white smoke comes out of both tailpipes each time he tries to start it. I stop for a minute and can smell the gas fumes from his car from where I'm standing. He suddenly sees me and lets up on his starter while watching me intently out of his rear-view mirror. He has such a look of focused, serious, determined intent on his face. He stares back at me without blinking.
Almost a minute passes as I stand there frozen in place, wide-eyed and looking back at him. I have this tingling sensation at the base of my stomach. After a full minute or two, he tries to start his old car again. This time the starter wails in protest and grinds away with a slow, tired rhythm. Then it coughs, backfires, reluctantly stumbles to life, then labors and idles roughly.
Herolls down the window on the passenger side. I get up to the window and he leans over from his driver's seat and asks me if I want to cruise around for a bit and take a midnight ride alone with him.
"Sure as hell glad it was just you watchin' me kid, and not someone else. What a damn, fuckin' shitty place to stall out, eh? And at this time of night too. Jeezus! C'mon, hop in with me. Let's go for a ride. I could use some company. Let's just cruise around for a bit. Just you and me, OK? It's been a real shitty day for me up to now. C'mon kid, let's go. C'mon. It'll be fun for ya'. I'll make it fun; I promise."
He's a bit taller than me, maybe 6'-4" and kind of lanky with a really well-toned upper body and shoulders. I'm guessing he's in his mid to late `twenties. He looks a bit disheveled and a little unkempt at the end of his work shift. I can tell he's moderately hairy and toned all over. He has medium length, thick, dark hair. It's wavy and hangs down carelessly across his forehead. He's wearing a loosened, cheap polyester tie and unbuttoned dress shirt with the cuffs rolled up just past his wrists. He has a dark five o'clock shadow and is in obvious need of a shave. He looks kind of scruffy with that tired, fed up and heading home from work at the end of a long work shift look about him. I can see curling, dark forearm hair and strong pecs with visible hard nipples straining through the outline of his wrinkled cotton shirt. His strong left hand hangs casually over his steering wheel and his right hand rests down between his muscular, long legs cupping his big bulge.
I'm guessing he must be heading home just now after closing up. I've spied on him there at times when I've gone into the store for no other reason than to look at him furtively and pretend to shop for something.
The brown and tan lightweight wool sports jacket he wears when serving behind the counter is lying rumpled up on his passenger front seat beside him. I'm guessing this old suit is probably the only one he has. It looks good on him though and gives him a real air of masculine authority. It fits him perfectly in all the right places. He grabs his jacket to make room for me up front and close beside him. And then on sudden impulse despite the humidity and heat, shrugs it on.
Then I look down at his tight, wrinkled, tan coloured, worsted wool trousers and suddenly realize he's hiding a huge, bulging erection. Holy shit! It's straining at the seam of his crotch and causing a prominent tent that is dueling with the zipper of his suit pants. It's the hour of chance, opportunity and fulfillment for those who lust and I'm sure not going to pass up on this chance with him, no way.
He reaches over, pulls his door handle and the door creaks and opens for me. I climb in beside him. He smiles shyly at me and then turns his attention back to his old car. He revs it a bit and has a little smirk on his face once he puts it in `drive' and it starts to move ahead for him. I can feel the rough vibrations from his tired engine. He pulls into the parking lot behind Howison's Confectionary and Variety Store and backs slowly out onto Perth Street. Then he revs his car more and eventually nudges his worn gas pedal down to the floor, turning right onto King Street and heads west out of town. His left hand is cupping his package all the time he is doing this too.
He's pretty good at maneuvering and driving his big old car with just his right arm and hand on his steering wheel.
"Thanks kid. Didn't really wanna' hafta' head on home alone just now after I saw you watchin' me. You know, I've seen ya' in the store and then out by yourself around town sometimes when I've been drivin' around by myself. Let's cruise outta' town and see where we wind up. Sound like a plan to you?"
He has a distinctive, masculine voice and speaks with a characteristic vernacular that labels him, along with many others in town as being a true Brockville native. Everything is woulda', coulda', gonna' or dontcha' with him. The tone and cadence of his voice is beautiful. It's like soft velvet with a hard steel edge to it underneath.
"Sure, OK. I'd like that."
He drives on with me beside him and murmurs curses and profanities to his car as it protests and stumbles on. We head slowly out of town on old Highway Two in his old Ambassador. And as we head west toward the 401 turn-off at Long Beach where it turns and meets up with the St. Lawrence River, he slouches down deep into his driver's seat. He spreads his legs wide apart to make himself more comfortable, and adjusts himself so I can see how aroused he is. All the while he keeps glancing at me sideways from the corner of his eye.
If he doesn't realize he's making me rock hard, then he's a total idiot.
He has one of those cheap gas station pine tree air fresheners most blue collar men have in their rides. It's dangling down from the eight track player beneath the dashboard beside his steering wheel in front of his spreading crotch. It keeps fluttering back and forth so I can smell the scent. It keeps me conscious of and focused on his big package at the same time. And I wonder to myself if that's why he hung it there with that intention in mind. I can intensely feel him beside me as he keeps his eyes ahead concentrating on keeping his old wheels going on down the road, heading west out of town.
I reach over to turn on his radio to break the silence. He leans over and puts his right hand on my arm. An intense electrical shock goes through my entire body. "Ya' maybe don't wanna' do that kid. Might drain down the battery in my car even more."
A couple of minutes pass between us in silence, except for the protests coming from under the hood of his old coupe. "Ya' lookin' for some good music?" he eventually asks while giving me a shy little grin. "I'm not exactly `Barry White' but why dontcha' tune in to me here for a bit and see what comes up for ya'?"
He grabs my hand and with one swift, deliberate, calculating motion, shoves it down into the hot, hard, moist crotch bulge between his legs. I can feel his fully-aroused cock responding immediately to my tentative grip.
I slowly undo his worn, brown leather belt and start to pull on his zipper. I pull down on it very slowly. His cock spills out as I finish with the zipper on his wrinkled trousers. I am seduced by his hairy pleasure trail as I take in the sight of his half-hard, thick tool.
Christ almighty... he's not wearing any damned underwear at all! His dick is sitting out there and gradually rising up to full standing attention right in front of my eyes. And all I can smell is his strong, male, sweaty pheromone scent and the pine smell from that damned stupid air freshener.
His ripe, overwhelming and assertive manly smell is intoxicating. It's strong and pungent... unforgettable and virile, just like him. His scent reeks of strong sexual need and desire in the middle of the night between two boned-up strangers needing some hot male action. He looks directly at me and then down at his big rod. His eyes tell me exactly what he wants. He doesn't need to say a word.
"I just have to know what doing a really handsome, sexy guy like you would be like. And I'm really glad you're going to be the guy I get to do it with," I say shyly.
He grins and with a gleam in his eye says teasingly to me, "Sooo... you think I'm handsome, do ya' eh kid'? Well, get down there then and suck on it baby. I think it kinda' likes ya'."
Hmm, he sure looks pretty pleased with himself after I told him I thought he was handsome and as I start to focus on his big cock. I take my tongue and taste the pre-cum on its head.He shudders.
His old car shudders at the same time.
"Fuckin' shit!" he mutters under his breath. "OK kid. Gimme' a sec' here to pull my damn shitbox car over to the side of the road. If you really wanna' do that to me as bad as I wantcha' to, then I'm gonna hafta' pull over here before we stall out in the middle of the goddamn road. "
He squarely plants his scuffed and worn old brown dress shoe on his brake. I can feel his leg muscles tense up as he presses down to stop his car. His old car shudders again. It keeps idling rougher and rougher and stumbles one last time as the engine coughs and dies.
"Mother fucker!"he mutters angrily under his breath. "OKkid, since we're not goin' any further right now, you may as well finish what ya' got started down there. It's been one fuckin' bitch of a shitty day. And this goddamn piece of fuckin' shit, old car of mine isn't helpin' it one damn little bit right about now. Oh, and yeah... before I get distracted with my dick and you suckin' on it, and while I' m still thinkin' about it here... hafta' say you're just about the cutest damn young guy I think I've ever seen."
I blush beet red at his compliment. He notices and smiles to himself. "Go on, get down there and suck my dong kid. It wants ya' big time. And I do mean big."
I can feel the friction of his trousers on my face as he moves back and forth to make full body contact with my probing tongue and lips. The feeling of everything... his big, throbbing, hard cock, his old car, the humid summer heat. I can't believe he's letting me do this to him.
He lifts my head up gently after a while and says softly, "Just stroke it for a bit. Ya' kinda' got my stick shift just a bit too excited down there. It needs to calm down for a bit. You know what a hand-job is dontcha' '?"
After a couple of minutes, he sighs with intense pleasure and says to me, "OK kid, just a sec'. Let's see if we can get my fuckin' car started again. Maybe find a more private place to do this. I really wanna' be alone in my back seat with ya.' Would ya' like my crotch-rocket to blast off inside your hot little butt?"
Jeez'. Did he really just say crotch-rocket?
He moves his right leg and aggressively pumps his big worn gas pedal seven or eight times. He turns the key. It cranks for a few seconds but won't start. "C'mon ya' fucker!" he pleads, "Turn over for me," He turns his key again, "C'mon ya' fuckin' sonofabitch."
He brutally pumps his gas pedal and cranks his car much longer this time, "C'mon ya' fuckin' bitch. Start for me!" He turns his key one more time. His starter cranks slower and slower. His battery is draining... slower and slower. One final fuckpasses his sensual lips and he is silent.I lean up and look into his face. It's a mask of intense frustration.
"Why not just leave it alone for a while," I murmur.
He looks down at me for a second and says, "Shhh, kid. Just lemme' do this. I know what I'm doin'. This shitbox of mine has acted up and caused me enough goddamn trouble ever since I just left work. It almost wouldn't fuckin' start at all for me at the end of my shift just now behind the store. Was just tryin' to get home after a long, shitty day. And my damn fuckin' car wouldn't hardly fuckin' start for me. Like, fuck me man. Was horny, hot, tired and just wantin' to get outta' these sweaty, stinkin' work clothes and jerk off. Just wantin' to hop in a cold shower and rub one out and fall into bed. And my fuckin' shitbox car stalls out and floods and then like, totally craps out on me again tonight!"
He sighs and continues saying, "Ya' know, this kinda' crap has happened to me one time too many lately. The fuckin' cum rag under my driver's seat has seen waaay too much action that way kid. It needs to find itself a new fuckin' boyfriend. And I need a real decent sleep in my own bed tonight. Havin' to sleep again sprawled out in my front seat with my suit jacket for a pillow in this goddamn hot weather and all is doin' a real number on my back."
"You mean to tell me you actually sleep sometimes, right where I'm sitting now?"
"Well baby, not through choice. That's for damn sure," he mumbles.
I try to lighten the mood by wiggling my butt back and forth and say to him with a grin, "Hmm, too bad I'm not on top of you right now. That could be really fun, actually!"
He stops in mid-sentence, looks stunned and then stares at me for a few seconds. There is a glimmer in his eye. He tries to hide a grin and stifle a laugh and then says sternly to me, "That's not really funny ya' know! I'm bein' dead serious here. And dontcha' try to distract me any more than you already have since ya' climbed into my car to ride with me just now."
Then he pauses and takes a long breath, shakes his head, comes back to reality and growls, "Just don't need this goddamn shit from my fuckin' car tonight. And now goddammit, it's not gonna' stop me from what I wanna' do to you on top of everything else."
Tense silence ensues as he grabs his ignition key and leans far forward with his left arm slung over his steering wheel and raises his masculine ass up out of his seat.
His car starts to sputter. "That's it. C'mon baby. C'mon... turn over for me!" His old car coughs and stumbles to life and I can feel his muscles slowly relax throughout his body. He keeps revving his car. The front end lifts up and reacts with angry, growling, tortured backfires and protests every time he forces his gas pedal down to the floor. He lets up on it after a bit and slumps back down into his driver's seat as it idles roughly away. Then he takes a big breath and says softly to me, "OK kid. Get back down there and keep playin' with my dong. It wants some cute, young, sexy boy action tonight."
"I start to lick and suck his balls. They taste sweaty and salty and are so hot in response to my probing tongue. On a sudden impulse, I take my middle finger and start to play with his tight asshole, teasing it around the rim while sticking my finger in and out until his sphincter muscles tighten up firmly around it. He groans softly once more with intense pleasure and shifts his hips and lower body up to better feel my actions on him and to give me full access to his pungent crotch.
"Yeahhh! That's the way! Do it! Do it now, babe! Yeahhh! Oh fuck baby! Just like that baby! Dontcha stop now!" He reaches up to jerk his gear lever to `drive'. He stomps on his worn gas pedal, and his old car backfires, coughs and stalls out again.
"Fuckin' shit! Well, since we're not goin' nowhere for now, might as well sit back and enjoy the fuckin' goddamn view." He sloughs off his old brown jacket and carelessly throws it down onto the floor on the passenger side by my feet. "C'mon then. Keep it up babe. Play with my stick shift kid and make me bust a load so somethin' good happens to me tonight."
I wrap my mouth around his beautiful, mushroom-shaped, pre-cum leaking cock head and can feel it throbbing and vibrating. Each time I lick and taste the leaking pre-cum on the very tip of his cock, I feel him squirm with intense pleasure. This must be torture for him. He looks like he's either in pain or what they say is ecstasy. Maybe both?
After a few more minutes, he starts to forcibly ram his rock-hard cock with rapid, deep, fast rhythmic thrusts up into my mouth and then suddenly yells out, "Aww, fuck! Gonna' hafta' cum! Gonna' cum right now baby! Fuck me man! Suck it! Yeah, yeahhh! Fuck baby! Suck on that dick babe! Jeezus shit, I'm cummin' now!" He yells louder and erupts, shooting his sticky, white spunk load. Rope after thick rope of hot man jizz explodes deep in my mouth.
Well... I guess his crotch rocket blasted off after all. Once I've swallowed the last of his cum load, I feel like he's scalded me inside with his thick jizz as the last bit of it slides down my throat.
"Ah, fuckin' Christ! Fuckin' shit! Fuckin' fantastic baby." he groans.
"You're really somethin' else kid. What you may lack in experience, ya' sure as hell make up for with enthusiasm. You're gonna' be a quick learner, I'm thinkin.' Next time you're gonna get fucked real good. My dude piston is tellin' me it wants ya."
I smile to myself at him describing his beautiful big cock as a dude piston. Like, where did he come up with that description? That's a new one on me. That's some mouth and vocabulary he has on him.
He leans over toward me in the passenger seat and says, "Just gimme' a sec' while I get out and take a piss after that. OK babe? Be right back."
I wait inside his car for him. Once back, he opens his creaking driver's side door and slides in beside me. The heat inside his old Ambassador coupe goes up 150 degrees the second he drops his ass down in his worn-down, old driver's seat just inches away from me. He turns his key in his ignition and tries to start his old wheels. "C'mon, c'mon ya' sonofabitch, turn over. Dontcha' do this to me again tonight. C'mon!"
It just won't start.
"Ya' goddamn shitbox!" He has the foulest mouth on him when he talks to his car. It's kind of a turn-on for me and I think he knows it and gets off on that. But right now `pissed' is a mild word to describe how angry and frustrated he is.
"You're gonna' need to slide yourself on over here into my spot. It's all warmed up from me and just waitin' for your cute, little boy butt. I'm gonna' hafta' get out and lift up the hood to see if we can get my old piece a' shit car runnin' again. Just do what I tell ya' kid, OK?"
"OK... pump it real good for me and crank the livin' shit out of it `til I tell ya' to let up on my starter for a bit," he shouts back.I do it and nothing happens. Just that whining, cranking noise. I can't see him because his hood is jacked up. But I know he's out there alone, pissed off and frustrated. I keep turning his ignition key. Nothing, nothing, nothing.
Finally, he slams down the hood and stares back at me from the front of his car. "Well, that's enough goddamn shit from you for one night." I hear him mutter angrily to his old car.
Slowly, he walks over to his driver's side door and squats down so his head is level with mine and is mere inches away. He slowly moves in to plant his lips full on mine with a deep, probing, demanding kiss that sends me into total mindless shock. "Just wanted to see if I could taste some of that ball juice I topped ya' up with just now baby." Then he laughs and teasingly musses up my hair. He smiles flirtatiously and then playfully traces the outline of my lips with his tongue before he slowly thrusts it into my mouth. Then he gives me one more deep-throat kiss and winks with those long lashes as he moves back to gauge my reaction. "Mmm, thanks baby. Fuck this old piece a' crap right now. Being with you just now has been just about the best thing to happen to me in a long time. Next time is gonna' be even better, I promise."
He leans in for one more lingering kiss. The feel of his rough, unshaven five o'clock shadow rubbing against my sensitive skin is so sensual and masculine. His kiss ends way too soon and leaves me wanting more from him. He takes a deep breath finally and sighs. Then he rubs his hand through his tousled hair and asks me, "Sooo... do I hafta' call ya' baby or babe all the time? Or does my cute and sexy little babe have a name?"
"Aaron `Richard' Christie. Errr, rather... just Aaron that is."
He pauses for a long moment, then he says, "Yep. I know that name Christie. Hmm, I know your Mom. I ring up her prescriptions for her at the store. I shoulda' figured that one out from when you come in to pick them up for her. And your Dad works with my Mom at the Hospital, I think."
He pauses for a few more seconds; His eyes light up and he smiles to himself. Then he chuckles, snaps his fingers and says, "Now I get it! Of course! Two guys with the same letter A' in their first name. It all makes sense now. Canada Grade `A' Beef' eh? Of course! Fuckin' hilarious! What else?" he says and starts to laugh. And I mean really laugh.
"Well Aaron Richard' Christie. I'm Adam Richard' Blanchard at your service. Aaand... it looks like I've got some unfinished business to take care of with your little friend down there," as he reaches down and grabs onto my stiff cock and fondles it inside my jeans. "Just call me `Adam' though Aaron, OK?" he says conspiratorially and gives me the biggest grin and a wink.
Then he pauses for another couple of seconds and says to me more seriously, "Ya' know Aaron, while my fuckin' car let me down again tonight, at least you're here. And that sure ashell makes up for this whole fuckin' shitty day."
I look deep into his eyes. They're a kind of rich hazel, the color of burnt honey. I'll just bet they change colour from green to brown at different times, depending on the light.
He brings me back from my thoughts then by saying, "Tell ya' what Aaron. We're gonna' hafta' hike it back in to town now. And I'm gonna' need to call someone to tow my car to Prentice ESSO before I hafta' start work in the morning. Are you gonna' be OK with that for now? I'll make this up to ya' next time we're alone together Can I see ya' again soon please, Aaron`Richard' Christie?"
He has the most engaging smile on his face and bends in to give me one more tantalizing deep kiss. As if he even needs to ask me. "Yes, of course Adam. Whenever you want to. Anytime and anywhere you want to. Absolutely. Yes! For sure, yes! Please Adam."
He reaches into his car right beside me and takes his keys out of his ignition. "Tempted to leave `em here to see if anyone can get this damn, cock-suckin' old heap of mine started. But I don't think anyone would give this sorry piece of rusted-out crap a second look. Joy-riding and stealin' it's not gonna' happen tonight, I don't think. Besides, it's seen enough action between you and me mister cute and sexy, Aaron Richard Christie just now anyway."
He deliberately leans in past me, so I can feel his dude piston, crotch-rocket, stick shift, big, hairy dong, fuck rod... and whatever the hell else he came up with to describe his beautiful cock earlier, while seductively and subtly rubbing his big, furry pube package against my thigh. He bends right over me and further down to the passenger-side floor on the pretext of looking for his suit jacket. All the while he is smirking and trying to look at me sideways with those long lashes to gauge my reaction. What a smooth guy. He knows exactly how to work me.
"Gonna' need this tomorrow when I hafta' look reasonable and halfways decent to wait on customers. Here Aaron, hold onto it for me will ya'please? Let's start to head back in to town."
"You're my cute little, boned-up, horny sex boy now Aaron `Richard' Christie."
A flash of white teeth, another wink, and his grin mesmerize me. The masculine texture, smell and feel of his suit jacket fabric makes me half-hard as I hold onto it next to my skin.It's like snuggling up to him and wrapping myself around his taut, hard body.
"Next time Aaron, I'm gonna' pick you up right after work and take ya'on back to my place. What we didn't finish tonight, we're gonna take care of then, I promise ya'. You need some real good, long lessons on how to kiss a man properly. And I'm thinkin' your sexy, tight, little butt needs me to take care of it too."
As we start walking back into town, he wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me in tight against him. He's beefier than I am so I can lean in and bend my head down into his armpit to feel the fading pheromone heat from the explosive cum session he just had minutes before. "Thanks for tonight Aaron. You know, you're really someone very special," he says gentlywhile his tongue teases my ear. He nibbles on my ear lobe and his tongue works its way slowly down onto my neck. I almost fall right over into his arms with the distraction.
"When can we start the lessons Adam? You can teach me a lot. I've never had a guy fuck me before. And I'm really glad it's going to be you. I want you to do it to me more than anyone and anything."
He laughs softly, smiles to himself and pulls me in even more tightly to him, "Patience my young little firefly. Wanna' see you flicker and light up just for me in the dark." he whispers while nuzzling my cheek with his unshaven jaw.
"Soon please though? Promise me, please? You're really someone special too Adam. I really like you very, very much Adam." Then I take a moment to debate whether I should confess this to him or not.
"You know Adam, sometimes I come into Fullerton's just to look at you and be really close and just, well... just to be around you because I like you so much. And you're so handsome. And... and, well, well... I think you're just about perfect."
He blushes deeply, hesitates for a long moment and gives me a steady, earnest and thoughtful gaze. Then he says very hesitantly, tenderly and shyly to me, "Ya' know Aaron, outside of my Mom, I think that's just about the nicest thing anyone `s ever said to me." Finally, he gives me one more deep, invasive, demanding kiss.
"I kinda wondered about that store business' though. At first, I thought you might be shop-liftin' and I kept my eye on ya'. Then I thought, well... just maybe?' and tried to give you a little of my Big Cock and Hairy Man Ass performance bit' when I spotted you lookin' at me and my big boner. Ya' know, Aaron baby, that's why I go commando sometimes when I'm workin' now and hoping you might show up in the store. I was thinking you'd notice me free-ballin' and maybe like what I was showin' ya' between my legs cause' my big dick sure as hell decided to like you and get hard on me whenever I saw ya' lookin' back at me."
"Really had to laugh to myself last time you were into the store though. I'm behind the cash and you dump a pair of tweezers, a package of pink Lady Schick disposable razors, a Fisherman's Almanac magazine, a tube of Ben Gay ointment and a huge, honkin' tube of KY onto the counter! Like, do you even know what most folks use that stuff for? Oh yeah, and the Cover Girl `Perky Purple Passion Persuasion' nail polish! I kept thinking to myself while I was ringin' that up at the cash register... like, what in the fuck does he think he's gonna' paint on himself with that? I was killin' myself laughing after ya' left the store! I think that's when I really finally kinda' figured out you weren't just there to buy and pick up stuff."
"Uh, well... I knew you were watching me and had to buy something that time. So I just grabbed whatever was on the shelf in front of me." Now I'm really embarrassed."
"Aww, baby, dontcha' ever be embarrassed in front of me. Am more likely to embarrass myself. Seems to be happening pretty regular to me too lately," he says, as his voice trails off.
"Aaron, did not ya' not see my big, hairy hard-on pokin' out atcha' and sayin' hello behind the counter when I was baggin' up your KY babe? And I was wearin' the same light brown suit I have on now. Like, do you have any idea how hard it is to hide a fuckin' big hard-on while goin' commando in a pair of lightweight tan suit pants? Jeezus babe! I hadta' go on break in the back to give my dong a chance to settle down after that." More laughter from him, and then he grabs onto one of my nipples and starts to squeeze it.
"Well Adam, I just thought you were really big that way all the time."
Three seconds later... and he finally clues into what I just said. Then he starts to really laugh and says, "Ya' really don't know what KY is mostly used for do ya' Aaron?"
"Uhm, no... not really Adam."
"Well bring it along with ya' when you come on over to my place and I'll explain it all then and show ya' baby. It'll be show and tell time!" He keeps laughing, and I really don't get the joke.
We keep on walking and he turns serious again and says to me, "But seriously now, you hafta' know Aaron. You're a lot younger than me. I'm twenty-seven and I'm guessing you're what? Nineteen? Maybe twenty? And that's pushin' it I'm thinkin' `cause you look so cute and young and innocent. And I fill your Mom's prescriptions and see her in the store all the time when she comes in herself to pick them up. And with my Mom workin' with your Dad at the Hospital and all... well, you know, I just don't wanna' start any trouble and complicate anything for anyone. Jeezus though. Am startin' to get another hard-on here after hearing that. Really needed to hear somethin' nice and sweet like that this evening. And hearing it from you makes it just so much more extra special."
"Hmm, sweet. Yep! That's the right word for sure alright. Thanks there `cookie'."
He smiles and then gently says to me, "I'm really flattered. You're really somethin.' I wanna' get to know you better Aaron. And not just for sex either, if ya' get what I mean. Dontcha' get me wrong though. Sex with you is pretty fuckin' amazing and is only gonna' get better with lots and lotsa' practice. I'll be making sure that happens from here on in on a regular basis Aaron `cookie' baby!" he says laughingly.
Then he pauses for a moment and asks me, "Do ya' like pizza Aaron? Would ya' like to maybe go to El Paso's Restaurant on Buell Street with me for dinner when I'm off sometime? I'll hafta' check. But I think I'm off on Thursday later this week. Think you can make some time for me that night?"
"I'd like that. Yes Adam. I'd really like to get to know you a lot better too. I think you're someone really worth taking the time to get to know. You're really something too you know."
Another blush from him... God! He's even cuter when he blushes, if that's even possible. "And Adam... just to let you know, I really got off riding around with you in your old car. And I like it when you get pissed off and talk dirty to it too."
He laughs and grabs my butt and says, "Well... my cute, little cookie boy, let's see if my mechanic friend Gerry at Prentice ESSO can get it running half-ways decent for me again and we'll take it out for another midnight cruise real soon. Wouldya' like that? Hmm, I might even let ya' drive the damn sonofabitch for a bit so it gets used to ya'. Ya 'got your license yet? You do? Right Aaron?"
I nod my head. "Yes Adam. Well... uh, sort of. Just my learner's permit for now."
"Well then, there's somethin' else I'm gonna' hafta' be teaching you. We're gonna' be spending lotsa' time together. I can see that now," he says with a big grin and then bends down and plants a big, sloppy, wet kiss on my cheek.
"You aughta' know though Aaron. My car is real temperamental. You'll need to talk nice to it to get it to start up for ya'. It's my special buddy. We have a love/hate relationship. My Ambassador needs to be given a real hard time every now and then. It used to belong to my Dad, before he skipped out on my Mom and me and left her with the payments on it. The only goddamn thing he left my Mom besides all his other debts when he took off to Alberta twelve years ago and left her high and dry to take care of me. That old car has seen her and me through lotsa' tough times. It's given me lots of `em too come to think of it, like tonight. But this time at least I didn't get stranded in the middle of fuckin' nowhere and have to sleep in it all night and hafta' walk miles to a pay phone to call my Mom to come pick me up, and then have it towed like the last time a few weeks ago. Tonight it sorta' did me a real big favor and gave me a chance to finally meet you. Should be kissin' its back bumper, I suppose. Somethin' sure as hell good came outta' that with you and me for sure just now."
I look up thoughtfully at him, remembering and storing away in my memory what he just confided to me about his Mom and Dad and slowly nod my head.
"Sooo... Aaron `cookie' Christie, I'll teach ya' how to drive my car. Only though if it decides to like ya'. And of course, only if you're extra special nice to me." he says teasingly, with a dirty and suggestive laugh.
"Uh, OK Adam. I really like sitting in your driver's seat because it's just like you. It's warm and feels safe and masculine and hugs my butt just right. It has your own special man smell too. It gets me really horny and makes me want to get off. Sort of like what sitting on your big, hairy... errr, uhm, dong would be like, I'm thinking."
"Whoa babe! Careful there now Aaron or I might just hafta' throw ya' down and fuck ya' silly right here and now if you keep talkin' to me that way."
We both laugh like we've just shared some private, secret, dirty joke between us and keep on walking back home.
"Think I'm gonna' walk ya' all the way home Aaron. I know where your Mom and Dad live at 69 Bethune Street. Can't have anyone else tryin' to pick you up or molest ya' now, can I?"
"Thanks Adam. But do you have to walk far back to your place after that?"
"Nah kid. Just up to Pearl Street West, not far from the train station. I got a small place there I rent from Mr. and Mrs. Nicholson. But I'll probably call for a cab at the twenty-four hour restaurant on King Street, after I call for a tow truck to take of my damn car. Doesn't matter though. I'm here for ya' now. It's all good Aaron Richard Christie. Oh, and yeah. Almost forgot, and while I'm thinkin' about it here, too. There's just one last thing I hafta' say to ya'. And I'm bein' dead serious about this too. Once I finally get around to gettin' into your sexy, tight fittin' pants there fella', dontcha' be expecting me to call your little buddy down there `The Cookie Monster'. Like, that's just not gonna' happen Aaron. Ya' got that?"
"This is turning out to be one great summer!" I reply, while killing myself with laughter as he laughs too and kisses me one last time.
As we keep walking, he stops for a second and says to me, "Put your hand in my front pants pocket for a sec' there Aaron. Do ya' feel my big, hard, hairy dong sayin' hi to ya'? It's gonna' be thinkin' of you now `til the next time we get together. Remember that kid."
He has such an indecent and dirty laugh on him at times. "I really like you Adam `Richard' Blanchard."
"Kinda' figured that one out all on my own cookie butt boy," he says, and squeezes me tightly one more time.