Chapter Fourteen - White Lightning
(Eric Tucker, 20, has just finished a stag night show he was forced to do, along with his friend Yancy. Driving home he got a brief call from Yancy, who was offered a job at Bockstrop's Pharmacy. He hung up before Eric could warn him of the job's dangers. Now he finds Yancy's friend Patrick waiting to visit for the weekend.)
I looked at him, standing there on my porch in the dim light from the street. Tall, freckled, red headed, with his hair messed up like he had tried to comb it with his hands.
"You're Patrick?"
"Yep," he grinned, "that's me." He stuck out his hand and we shook. Then he asked "Did you hurt yourself?"
"Huh?" I didn't know what he meant.
"I watched you crossing the yard and coming up the stairs. You were walking funny."
Yeah, I thought, I've got a hundred dollar bill stuffed up my butt.
"No, maybe it was accidental. Come on in." I unlocked the door and led him into the living room. He had a gym bag with him. It looked crammed full and made me wonder how long he planned to stay.
"When does Yancy get here?"
I clicked on the lights. "He just called. He may not make it tonight. Something unexpected came up."
He looked around the room.
"Nice place you got here" he observed with a sense of envy. From what Yancy had told me, he still lived at home.
"Thanks. You want to wash up or something? I'll show you where the bathroom is."
"That'd be nice. It was dusty and hot on that bus. There was a lunch break in some small town where the bus stayed for nearly an hour."
I clicked on the light in the bathroom and as I stepped aside to let him in, I saw he had already unzipped his tight jeans, pulling them down almost to his knees.
"Gotta take a piss and let this thing get some air. It don't like being cooped up down there."
His dick was impressive, even more so as he sort of waved it. It was uncut, freckled, nicely set off by bushy red pubes, and he was obviously proud of it. I didn't know if I'd ever seen a freckled dick before. He pulled the foreskin back and readied himself. As I looked at it I realized I had him for size in that department, but it was still an impressive length as it slung around in his fingers.
He peed a mighty stream. He must have been holding back all the way on his trip. I smiled inwardly. Eighteen year olds tend to always suspect they're going to be molested in public bathrooms when they are out of town.
When he was through, he cleared the head, shaking it and moving the foreskin back and forth until he was satisfied. Then he pulled the skin back again and turned to me. The head was again fully exposed.
"Ever see anything as good as that?"
"Not only have I seen it, I've got it."
"Let me see," he said as if he doubted me.
I whipped my circumcised dick out. He was impressed.
"I bet Yancy went crazy over that thing."
I frowned at him. That wasn't a very tactful thing to say about his friend who had invited him to come and visit.
"What exactly do you mean by that?"
Anybody else would have sensed right away he had made a mistake. But not Patrick. He just plowed ahead.
"Well Eric am I right? I mean he told me all about you. But when he said what size dick you had, I figured he just got a little carried away." He grinned proudly. "You know Yancy, he likes big stuff."
I wondered how many days I was supposed to put up with this guy. I also made a mental note to quit looking at people's dicks so much. Once I got my promotion and left, I didn't want to get off on the wrong foot at some new store.
I decided to change the topic. "I need to get a shower...really bad. I was working and got all sweaty. You want to help yourself to what's in the fridge?"
"Got sweaty, huh?" he said with a smirk. "Would that happen to be in the big show you and Yancy were putting on tonight?"
I cringed. Why would Yancy have told him about that? "Well you seem to know about it, so yes. But for now it's not something I want to talk about."
"No problem, man. You get your shower, and I'll just open this two liter bottle of Coke I brought, and with the help of your ice cubes we'll have something cool when you get out."
I started stripping down. He kept watching me. "You're still moving funny" he said. "Did you get kicked in the butt at that stag thing?"
I started to frown, but decided since he was my guest I'd let it pass.
Then he asked "You and Yancy done the deed for real yet?"
I looked up sharply. His face was over-eager, and almost leering. I pretended I didn't hear him. I closed the bathroom door and started the shower.
When I got out, toweled off, and pull a fresh pair of boxers on, he was sitting on the sofa, buck naked with his legs spread, munching on some crackers and a can of Vienna sausages I had in the pantry. Two glasses of Coke heavy with ice cubes sat on the coffee table. He waved me over like he was the host in his house, and not the other way around.
"I like to stay naked when I can" he said, gesturing toward my boxers. "It's sexually healthier. But," and here he cleared his throat, "if you're all that modest, suit yourself."
"Gee thanks" I replied sarcastically. "That's mighty generous of you."
He seemed to take it at face value. "No problem. But you'd do better to try a little sexual health once in a while. Of course if you're ashamed of your body or -" and he paused at that point, "or ashamed of that monster you lug around between your legs, then..."
"Damn, Patrick, it sounds like you think you're running the show around here."
That remark obviously surprised him. "No Eric. Just relax. Would you want a bathrobe to fully cover yourself?"
I hate sarcasm, especially from someone younger than me. I was tired and that really irked me. I pulled off my boxers and say down beside him. He shoved the sausages and crackers over to me. I took a deep swig of the Coke and began to relax. I realized I was hungry and the crackers tasted good.
After a few moments, Patrick stretched and looked over. He had such white skin with red freckles and that fierce red bush. There was a light dusting of red hair on his arms and legs, but his pits were as full as his bush. His grey eyes were set off to perfection in that freckled face. The lips were thin and it was obvious he had to shave pretty regularly. He grinned as he kept looking at me. "So you know about Patrick and me, huh?"
"He's told me some stuff. He's really looking forward to you being here for a visit."
Patrick kept looking down at my dick. I glanced over at his, and saw he was getting hard. That seemed weird.
Still looking at my dick, and casually moving his hand down to touch his own, he said "Yancy services me. He's good at that. I haven't had anybody to really help me that way since he's been gone. I can tell you I've missed it."
He touched his dick even more - nothing specific just fingers moving across it as it moved on its own. Then he asked, "Does he service you too?"
The head hadn't moved out of the foreskin, but it obviously wanted to peep out and take a look.
I shook my head, trying to force my eyes away from his emerging erection.
Patrick looked over, saw me move my eyes away, and smirked.
"You're circumcised and I'm not. So like what's with that?"
I wasn't sure what he meant, but I felt like I needed to reply if for no other reason than to cut the sexual tension that was building.
"My dad was cut, and I guess he wanted me to be like him."
"I meant you were watching my dick like you hadn't seen one before."
I turned beet red. "I really don't go around looking at dicks."
"Well you could have fooled me" Patrick replied.
"I haven't seen a lot of uncircumcised dicks before, or at least none getting hard like your is."
"That happens to me when I go too long without getting relief. I guess he told you I won't jerk myself off."
"Well if I needed relief, no matter what my religious beliefs were, I'd sure take things in hand and do something about it."
"You want to help me out here?" he asked, suddenly moving closer. His body was giving off heat like a dog in August.
"Suck you off? No."
"How about this? Just slide my foreskin back. You've never played with a foreskin, have you." He made it sound like a statement rather than a question.
His dick was something to see. The bottom half was rising, but the top sort of curved over like it was looking out while the shaft was pointing up. The excess skin on the head was slowly opening even though the head wasn't outside yet.
"Come on, Eric. Just see what it feels like. Reach over and slide the foreskin back."
He reached across and took my hand, guiding it to its target. I began to feel like I was in a dream. I had a warm glow in my stomach. That suddenly raised my suspicions.
"Did you put something in my Coke?"
"Our Cokes" he corrected me. "Just a little bit of white lightning. The way it's brewed over my way, it's so smooth you never know you're drinking alcohol until your stomach starts to warm up."
Before I could say anything, my fingers were touching his foreskin. He took his own hand away, leaving mine touching him.
"Now slide it. Do it slow. Treat it well and it'll be your friend for life."
It was a funny feeling. I slid it back and the head came out. It seemed so untouched compared to mine. I couldn't resist the temptation to razz him a little.
"It looks like it hasn't had any action for a long time. Check mine out. Talk about a lot of action and well used, that's mine."
"I don't go around touching guys' dicks" he said.
DAMN! I could have slugged him. Suddenly the buzz was gone. I grabbed my hand away from his dick, which stood proud and fierce pointing upward from between his legs. As if in response, he flexed his dick muscles and the thin bobbed up and down for a moment.
"See, it likes you? Why don't you touch it again?"
"Patrick, I told YOU to check MY dick out. If you want to have a place to stay, I'd suggest you do that real damn soon."
With that he burst out laughing. "Gotcha, Eric! I was just putting you on. Now why don't you relax?"
He took another drink of his Coke and I did likewise.
With that he half rose, facing me and moving even closer. His dick was almost touching my body. I don't know why his dick fascinated me so much. The foreskin was flared back; now the head and its piss lips seemed even bigger.
"I'll touch the head of yours now, Eric. But being cut, you won't feel near the sensations that I do. Inside my foreskin, I'm protected from the world. Nothing chaffs mine like underwear does yours. Even in a jockstrap, yours is getting rubbed while mine stays tight and out of sight. Do you know that by the time you were 18, yours was already a middle aged dick? And that's just the wear and tear from clothes...and from jacking off. But mine is still fresh...like a virgin."
He reached down and gently took my dick, which was getting very hard, and touched the head. I thought it felt great. Except for things done to me this past week, no guy had ever touched my dick before. And girls don't understand dicks so they don't know how to jack you...at least Rita sure didn't.
I just lay there a minute, feeling my dick getting harder and feeling the glow in my stomach from the white lightning.
Patrick watched my face and saw I was starting to sweat.
"Damn that white lightning sure gets to you, doesn't it?"
I nodded.
"Do you like what I'm doing?"
I was sure if I admitted that I did, he'd want me to service him the way Yancy had done. But reluctantly I nodded.
"Good" he said, taking his hand away. His dick, the head straining in its new found freedom, poked against my side as he moved. I wished I could quit looking at it.
He brought his face up to mine, blocking my view of his dick. He was so close we could have kissed. Yancy was the only guy who had ever kissed me. Patrick's thin lips were very close. He let the tip of his tongue edge out.
I let out a heavy sign. Patrick grinned, jumped up, and said "Let me pour some more of that lightning and Coke in our glasses."
He went to the kitchen, and I called after him "There some chips and pretzels in the cabinet."
"Gotcha" he said. I watched his butt as he went out. It wasn't a skinny butt but it wasn't fully round like mine. Still it looked good on him. Maybe different butts look better on different people.
He obviously hurried. He came back, carrying the bags of chips and pretzels in either hand, his bone dancing ahead of him, eager to get back...to me.
DAMN! I must be getting drunk. I never thought weird stuff like that before. And I never would have thought I could enjoy all this so much.
He sat back down beside me on the sofa. He had refilled out glasses with Coke after adding more of the hard stuff from a flask he had in his bag.
"Want to see how my equipment works?" he asked, turning to me with a bleary grin.
"I thought I already did that."
"Try the foreskin some more. And feel the heat in my dick and then compare it to my balls."
"You're generating heat from your body as it is. Does white lightning cause that?"
"I've always generated a lot of heat. I don't know why. Yancy used to love it. No mater how long he made me wait before he'd service me, he liked to hold me afterward, bury his face in my chest, and finally snuggle slowly down and lie in my crotch, happy as a lark."
I realized I was gently playing with his dick while he spoke. It was responding to my touch, and I was bringing my head closer to it. I knew I must be drunk.
Patrick took another swig of his Coke. "I'll tell you seething interesting while you two make friends down there.
"After Yancy moved away, I thought I'd go crazy. He could keep my urges under control, but after a week I knew I'd start masturbating like crazy if I couldn't find an outlet, and I was determined I wouldn't ever go back to beating my meat again.
"Then I remember this guy from my church. We were in the same church class on sex, and I remember how he had looked so worried when we were told about the sin of Onanism and about not spilling our seed on the ground. We both played basketball at the same park when school was out for the summer.
"So I looked him up, became friends with him, and got him over to my house for a chat. My folks were gone to work and my brothers weren't around. I asked him how things were going on the sex question, and he literally groaned. He was as bad off as I was. We both had to have an outlet.
"Well I knew if I was going to drag him into my trap, we'd need the right setting. So I suggested we make a pact that if either of us wanted to jack off, we'd talk to the other one first. We'd each keep the other in control. And then I said 'Let's make a pact. We'll sit down with no clothes on, so we'll each know we're talking about sex only to help the other, not to get off on it.'"
Patrick reached over and put his hand on my shoulder. His voice got low like we were in a conspiracy together. It felt good. I was getting sort of hypnotized by the sound of him anyway.
"I knew if I could get him naked and onto the subject of sex, he'd bone up right away. So we got naked and sat side by side on my bed. He didn't know about Yancy and how that had been giving me good relief. I acted like I had been struggling for months. Then I asked him how he had lasted this long. That's when he started spilling the beans.
"He had tried humping the pillow, and screwing the mattress. But it was hard work, and it just plain wasn't satisfying. If you can't wrap your hand around that thing and really take off with it, there's no real satisfaction. He admitted that some nights he had almost cried he wanted it so bad. That's when he tried the internet and the chat rooms. And he discovered something interesting."
"What was that?" I asked. I was having trouble forming words, but he seemed to understand.
"He was sitting there beside me, and he had started boning up the minute we got naked, and he said he had discovered spanking."
"What?" I knew now I must be drunk.
"That's right. Before I could ask him anything more, he threw himself across my legs, raising his butt high, and asked me to spank him."
"No shit."
"Yes, shit. He wanted that. He said he paid the paper boy to try it on him, since the boy sort of hero worshipped him and he gave the kid five bucks. He said he got hard as hell the minute the kid started, and when he spunked he shot more stuff than he ever had before."
Patrick moved closer to me, excited with his story.
"So then I knew I had him. The way he lay across my legs, his bone was actually pressing down on my leg, and my dick was pushed up against his body. But before I started in, I made him promise he would help me out too. Then I put my hand on that white butt of his." He paused and took a deep breath. We might be getting drunk, but he was also clearly lost in the memory of that moment.
"He almost shot off just from my hand on his butt. Then as I slid it over those round cheeks, he whispered 'Make me hurt. Make me turn red.' So I started in, slapping those butt cheeks like they were prime rib. Then when I figured he was getting close, I stopped. He looked back up at me with a puzzled look, and I told him I had to rest my hand a minute. Then I remembered a ping pong paddle in my closet from the old days.
"I had to stand up to go get it, and I saw he was looking at my dick with healthy interest. I wondered if I could con him into blowing me even if I didn't blow him. I put my hand in a curved motion like I was going to stroke my dick, and I asked him 'Isn't it hell when you can't touch it? Isn't it hell when it's your own dick and your own hand and you're not supposed to use it?'
"His eyes almost went out of focus, and I could see precum on that hard pole of his. I was holding the paddle walking back to him. I told him to stand up a minute. He didn't know why, but I wanted to enjoy the picture. His cheeks were already red, but they were about to get a lot redder. I walked up to him with the paddle held out flat, and before he knew what was happening I put it under that bone of his and gave a couple of pats. I thought he was going to shoot off on the spot. I've never seen a guy vibrate that bad without having a seizure or something. Then I reversed the paddle. The flat surface had been on top, but now it was the rough dappled side and I knew he would go crazy when I brought it up to that steel erection. That bone of his was pointing slightly higher than the horizon. When I gave it a couple of flips, like tossing a pancake, he almost fell down.
"He started gasping, saying 'I can't take it but I've got to have more. Do it man, I'm so overheated I can't stand it. I've got to get some relief!' So I picked up speed and he shot off all over the place. Damn it was like a hose or something just spraying everywhere. Then when he came down from it, we talked about doing each other that way."
The white lightning had really hit me now. I started getting into a confidential mood. We were close together, so I said, real quiet and secret-like, "Patrick, I'll tell you why I walked funny. I've got a hundred dollar bill rolled tight and shoved up my butt."
After he got over the surprise, although it didn't take all that long since he was as buzzed as I was, he said "They have a gadget in the emergency room that they stick up your butt and it opens it up, and they can pull it out."
"I don't want to do that" I said. "I just don't think I could go through that."
Patrick thought for a minute, and took another swig from his glass. "I reckon I could try to get it out for you. I'd be willing to take a look up there, if you want me to."
I wasn't too sure of all this, but I wanted relief and I didn't want any doctors or hospitals.
"That'd be mighty good if you would."
Patrick gave me a squint-eyed look. "What do I get in return?"
"I already told you I won't suck you off."
Patrick looked impatient. "I know that. That's what Yancy's for. Me and him have a thing going for that...what I need you for is tonight. I want you to get me off with either a paddle -" he stopped at that point.
He shook his head like he was trying to clear his brain. I felt like I needed to clear mine too. "Never mind, I can tell you later. For now let's look at that butt. Roll over on your stomach and spread your legs wide."
I sprawled across the sofa, feeling a little like a frog as I spread my knees as wide as I could and then brought my feet so the heels touched each other.
"Now let me climb in there and see what I can see."
He started spreading my cheeks. I could feel his breath on my crack. Then he told me to help him hold my cheeks apart. It might have been quite a sight, with both of us spreading my ass crack as far as possible.
"Neat rosebud you've got there."
I could feel his fingers probing, then making a tentative entry. I flinched and hissed through my teeth. That got a negative response out of him.
"Eric, if I'm going to take something out, I've got to get in there to get it."
I knew that, but it didn't make it any easier. Then he tried to distract me by talking about my butt while his fingers probed at my hole.
"That's a very smackable ass, Eric. I've known guys with a butt like that, and other guys would always want to slap it. It was like they'd look at that butt and it would make them mad because it looked so good, and they knew real guys don't get off on other guys' butts. But they couldn't help themselves and they'd have to whack it. Maybe only pop it with a towel in the dressing room, but in some way they'd have to do something to that butt."
I shifted a little, because lying on my dick I was getting an odd charge out of him playing with me back there.
"Don't you dare fart on me, Eric. I mean that. I've practically got my nose up your ass trying to get at that thing, so you better behave."
I knew he wasn't able to get it out. But I was getting so high off that lightning, I didn't really care. Plus now I was sort of starting to bone up a little. That's when I started to giggle.
"Hey Patrick, you know what?"
"I'm busy, Eric."
"Well after you mentioned farting, it got me to thinking that maybe I am about to fart. And it'll be a big one Patrick. Just for you."
I giggle some more. I could feel him pulling back. Finally he popped me on the butt, real hard, and got up.
"I'm through trying that. Come on in the bathroom and let's try an enema. You got anything for an enema?"
"Yeah," I said, turning onto my side before standing up. At this stage I didn't care if I was starting to get hard. Then I looked at him standing beside the sofa. He was totally boned. I giggled again.
"Does my butt get you all hard and horny, Patrick? You like my butt? Maybe you can get yourself off playing with it."
He really got mad. "Damn you, Eric, you're drunk! If you can't hold your liquor, you should have told me!"
"Well you didn't tell me about the white lightning until after I started drinking it."
"Just come along and I'll try an enema on you."
When I stood, I was dizzy for a second. He reached out and steadied me. His bone poked against me.
"Don't poke me with your bone, man."
He didn't answer. He led me down the hall to my own bathroom, and I showed him where the enema bag - the one from Bockstrop's Pharmacy - was hung.
"Damn" he said drunkenly, "you've got a shit full of nozzles for the thing. Do you play with your ass or something?"
"Not really. Just give me the bag and I'll get to work."
He started shaking his head.
"No way, man. I'm an expert and I know this stuff up and down."
I remembered how the guys at work had tried to force me to take an enema every day. "I've had some experience" I said.
But he held on, shaking himself and making his bone dance all over the place. The tubing started slipping out of his hands and wound itself around the tip of his dick.
He looked down at it.
"Huh."
"Right, Patrick. Maybe you can lasso your bone and jerk yourself off that way. It'll meet the criteria, no jacking."
He turned and started running hot water in the basin, putting a bar of soap in. When he got it nice and foamy, he put the bag in, submerged it, and then held it up.
"About halfway. Well the faucet will take it the rest of the way."
After a little, he turned to me.
"Bend over."
I wanted to use it on myself, but Patrick was far too grabby. Finally he leaned me over the tub, with my ass high, and began slowly inserting the nozzle while he held the bag in the air. I had tried to show him where there was a hook the bag would attach to, but that didn't do any good. He was ready to get started.
"Insertie, insertie" he said. I think he chose the longest nozzle. It was also the thickest. Then like magic the hot water began flowing into me, up, up the chute and on its way. While it was going in, Patrick leaned across my back and I could feel his bone rubbing on me.
"Ahhh" he said, and slowly moved in a fucking motion. His other arm now encircled my waist, drawing him tight against me, giving his bone a hot blend of bodies to thrust against.
"Cut it out!" I told him. I had had enough of guys using me for their own needs lately. That was when I felt his hand on my dick, and I realized he had withdrawn the enema tube. I squeezed my butt tight.
His voice was husky, almost whispery. "Calm down, Eric. Enjoy that stuff in you. It's got to stay inside a little while. We need it to get that money out of you. Doing this with that monster of yours will help pass the time and take your mind off things."
My dick was certainly responding to him. He had a good tight grip just below the tip of the head, but his index finger could wiggled across the head and roil the piss slit. I squeezed my butt tight as the sensation of his hand work took effect.
"Damn that thing gets long when it gets hard" Patrick breathed, humping my back while he talked. "Damn thick dong you've got there. I bet it shoots a big load too, right?"
I know it was the white lightning, but he really had me turned on. And his bone was the hardest thing I'd ever felt against my rib. He and I were both panting. Then I realized I needed to use the toilet.
"Got to dump this load in the pot, man. I can't hold it in any longer."
He didn't want to release me, he was too close to cuming, pouring his seed across my back, and having too much fun with my dick. He made an anguished sound, then slowly let me go. As I turned and sat down on the seat, he stepped back into the doorway, avoiding any expected smell.
I realized his dick was now absolutely straight up against his stomach. Mine only got at like a 45 degree angle. It had stopped that 'up against the stomach' crap when I was about 14. But his was rigid, and not only rigid but trembling. Maybe he was going to shoot just standing there. When he spoke his voice was ragged.
"Well...I can say for sure you'll never be able to claim your shit don't smell."
My bowels were dumping their load as fast as I could get it out. But my eyes were fixed on Patrick. I realized how much I had changed or come out in this past week when I realized I was eagerly awaiting that freckled uncut bone to start firing any second. The head was totally out and the foreskin had disappeared somewhere down the length of it. Uncut guys seemed to have their own way of jacking I suppose.
But as I watched in suspense, he stopped his quivering and said in what was a blend of agony and despair, "Damn. Double damn. Oh shit." Then in a tone that was almost a sob, he said "I can't take this any more. There's got to be an answer."
For myself, my own great load had now been dumped. Instinctively I started to reach for the toilet paper to wipe myself. Then I realized I didn't want anything more in that toilet bowl until I got my hundred dollar bill out. I stood up and looked down in it. It was a mess.
"Well for a hundred dollars I can reach down into anything" I said to Patrick. "Especially since it's my own crap."
Patrick waved an arm. "Wait!" he gasp, trying to get his emotions level again. "I've got something in my backpack."
He disappeared for a moment then was back with a small net, the kind you use when you have a fish tank and need to get the fish out to clean it.
"Use this to see if you can spot it and pull it out."
I took it from him, noticing his erection was still full force. For an instant I remembered the feeling of playing with that foreskin earlier, watching with interest as the head came out. I guess maybe its true that uncut guys have more fun. But it's too late now for me to have any regrets about that.
"Do you see it?" Patrick asked.
"Not sure yet."
"That's because you've been staring at my dick. I suspected from the first that you weren't the Mister Perfect All Man guy Yancy seemed to think."
"Well for somebody who has to beg guys to help him get off, I don't think you're in any position to be talking."
"Yeah but your dick is still hard and every time you look at mine, yours sort of waves at it."
"Go to hell, Patrick. I need to get my money out of here."
"Then I guess you could say your money's really gone down the toilet, right?"
I was in no mood for jokes. Some of the buzz of the drinks had worn off, maybe emptied out with the enema. I took the fish scoop and trolled it in the water. If my money hadn't come out, then we would have to go through all this again, and I might still end up going to the emergency room to get it removed. It had been up in me for so long now I couldn't tell if I still felt it inside or not.
Then Patrick was by my side, his warm body next to mine. He reached over for the net.
"Let me try. If you keep stirring the water some may begin to go out the bottom. Here, let me get behind you and reach down while you look."
He was a little unsteady on his feet, and he leaned over me and began exploring. I could feel his bone pressing against my back.
"Don't drop the net" I warned him.
"I won't unless you buck back at me or jerk suddenly."
He was trolling carefully, but also slowly humping my spine as he leaned past me. Then suddenly he let out a shout.
"I've got it!"
He pulled the scoop out with 'stuff' dripping in every direction. Then he dropped it in the tub. Turning on the faucet, I rinsed the mesh pouch and the bill until both were clean.
I was finishing the cleaning process when Patrick leaned over me, supposedly to see the money up close.
"I always wondered whose face was on the hundred dollar bill" he said, his body against my back and shoulders. Then he again started that slow humping movement. This was getting old.
I stood up, pushing back. Patrick lost his balance and sat down heavily on the floor. I looked over at him, his legs spread out and his dick throbbing up against his stomach.
"Patrick, listen. If you want to jerk off, jerk off. I know you've tried not too, but I swear the wait is getting too hard for you. Man if you don't do something to get relief, you're really going to be a mess."
He had that baffled look drunks sometimes get when they are trying to understand but their mind won't process it.
"I can't jerk off. I swore I wouldn't. All I want is some help. Why can't you help me?" There was something almost child-like in his plea.
By now I was smoothing out my freshly washed money. My butt felt better and my mind was relieved.
"I'll make a deal with you, Patrick. If you blow me, than in return I'll blow you."
"But..." he still was having trouble getting his thoughts straight, "but I don't suck guy's dicks."
"Well that's my final offer. Take it or leave it."
I went into the bedroom and picked up my cell. I saw I had some missed calls. I was about to check the first one when Patrick came in and said, "Can I just hump your back?"
"What's the difference between that and jacking yourself off?"
"It's a big difference." The head of his dick was oozing precum like it was going out of business.
I realized uncut guys must have very sensitive dick heads. Mine gets rubbed against my underwear or whatever all the time, but theirs only comes out for action. On a whim I reached over and touched the tip of his dick. He winced and bent over. I touched it again and it bobbed happily.
"Pretty drippy there, Patrick."
He gave me a pained and almost suffering look. Then he pushed out his hand as if warding me off.
"Easy there man, if I wanted you to jack it I would have asked you to. That's the whole point of what I'm going through. No jacking, period."
"Let's go up front and finish our drinks." I followed him up front, watching his butt move rhythmically as his balls swung between his legs. I wondered if his dick was bouncing or just sticking tight to his stomach.
I looked down at my cell and again checked messages. None were from Yancy. I didn't know whose number another was, but since it was possible Yancy was using someone else's phone, I gave it a ring. The phone's owner obviously had caller ID because he answered with my name.
"I'm the guy who gave you the silver clips and chain and told you I could help you earn a lot more money."
"Oh yes" I said, inadvertently touching my nipples which were still sore even though the clips had been removed before I left the restaurant. "How did you know my name and get my number?"
"Our club is very private, but we do share information with each other. Also since all the members either have money or power, things are available to us more easily. But first things first. My name is Jerry Bexler. I wondered if we could get together sometime soon, maybe tomorrow evening, and I could demonstrate how I can teach you ways to earn more money in a few hours than you could earn in a week at your present job."
Tomorrow was when I would find out if I passed the probationary period so I could move on. In addition I had Patrick here and I didn't know what would be going on with him and Yancy.
"What you're telling me sounds interesting, but right now my schedule and my plans are a mess. Could I maybe get with you at lunch time somewhere? I'm still working, but hopefully not for long."
"That will work. I represent some clients who have special interests in things like nipples, and I think you may be on your way to earning sizeable money if you like the terms."
We agreed on Leo's Beef Harvest, and set a time.
"How will I recognize you?"
"Don't worry," he said with what sounded like a big grin in his voice, "after this evening's show, I would know you anywhere."
I quickly scribbled down his name and the lunch plans, figuring the way this evening was going, I'd be doing good to remember my own name by morning. Turning back to the sofa, I saw Patrick had fallen asleep there, his bone tight up against his stomach. Figuring he had passed out, I reached down and touched it. It responded nicely.
This was a brand new experience for me, playing with a guy's equipment when he was asleep. I eased down on the sofa sitting on the edge beside him. After a few experimental touches, I realized he was right about how tender the skin of uncut guys was, at least to me.
The head was nicely moist, thrust tight out of the foreskin like a hungry animal. I guess it had been waiting for a human touch for so long since Yancy left, it was desperate for someone to play with it.
I really wanted to jack it, to give myself a treat after all I'd been through. I touched the slit, then used my finger to move the moisture evenly all over the head. Patrick's breathing continued as evenly as it had been. Then I reached down and gently felt his balls. He really did have a full load down there. Maybe even being spanked didn't fully clear them. I wonder what the paper boy though of getting $5 for spanking him. I bet the kid went home and jacked off twice before school. In fact I bet he rode his bone home as well as his bicycle. I made a mental note to see if I could find out more about that from Patrick tomorrow.
I got a light blanket from the closet and spread it over Patrick. I stood there a moment, watching him, and then I went to my room. Before falling asleep, I fantasized about a foursome with me, Yancy, Patrick, and the paper boy.
(End of Chapter Fourteen)
(Eric seems to be coming to terms with his new outlook. Tomorrow will be his first day back at work, the day he finds out if he is off probation and ready to be a supervisor, and the day Yancy and Patrick have their longed-for reunion. It's also the morning of the car wash at work. That means there's a big day ahead.)
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