"Diamond Run" Christ Sol
Disclaimer: Queer fiction. Adult themes and language. Not for the sissys.
Red Sheriff is a registered trademark, and there is no Red Sheriff Team Xtreme.
Fan mail to webtrash@unpunk.com
Chapter 4
Feet crunching in the snow, we got to his van which was not yer average van but a largeish campervan. Tattooed in crimson vinyl across the side was "RED SHERIFF TEAM XTREME. http://www.redsheriff.com.au/xtreme"
"Who's Red Sheriff?" "Sponsor. Some big internet marketing thing. I don't know what they do, but they pay my way and take lots of photos, so I don't care really."
Whoever they were, they took him seriously. He produced a small card with a smartchip on the side, and pressed it against a dark panel beside the van door. A tinny, japanese-sounding voice said. "Unlocked. Enter."
Inside, it was warm and cozy. There were flourescent lights, a twin burner propane stove and a small fridge. I inhaled as quietly as I could, savouring the amazing barrage of sweat and testosterone that invaded my nose. Not body odour, just the warm, musky smell of a dude in heat. This guy had to be here alone.
He opened a small cupboard above the fold out table and gestured with his hand to the row of small bottles within.
"What's your poison?"
I grinned and browsed his selection, deciding on tequila. He took two of the plastic 'mini bottles' out and yanked a laptop out from underneath a cushion.
"What you doing?" "This is my baby. She's got my CD player, sponsor profile, and SnowScan." "SnowScan?"
He grinned and sipped from the comically tiny bottle, booting the glossy black machine and drumming his fingers impatiently. Eventually, he connected the computer to two cables on the wall. One lead to an amp, the other into the ceiling. NOFX began to play in the background.
"Whats the other wire for?" "Watch."
He grinned like a kid showing his parents a magic trick, and punched a few more keys. The screen changed and he spun it around.
I was impressed. Weather forecasts, sattelite weather pictures, rainfall, snowfall, winds, temperatures, humidity (last ten days, today, projected).
"This sucker can tell me exactly how much snow's gonna fall, when, and where." "So.. spill."
Mark playfully flicked the screen back down. "Sponsor confidential. You'd have to pay for it." "How much?" "Are we still talking about money here?"
His expression altered and he leaned around the table, tequila on his breath. "Let's not play games, Scout. We both know why you're here. If you want it, it's yours."
I leaned forward and kissed him clumsily across the foldout table. He returned the kiss, and swept me into a clumsy embrace, arms pulling me to him. He smelt amazing, and I felt my dick harden instantly. So did he, and he looked down in disbelief.
"How big is that thing?" "Eight on a good day. Let's get naked Mark."