**Disclaimer: This story involves homosexual themes and situations. You must be 18+ to read this. If you are underage or it is illegal for you to read this, please move on.
**All events, characters, etc depicted herein are fictitious and any resemblance to real-life is mere happenstance.
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Have a Drink! - Part 2
It was two weeks or so until I got another opportunity to pay Eric back. Probably paying him back once was enough. I mean, my plan had succeeded, albeit with an odd ending. I should've stopped there, but the thought of him drinking my sperm was somehow exciting to me. Over the days that followed, fueled by an adolescent sex drive I couldn't (and had no desire to) control, the event had transformed itself in my head from a revenge plan into a plan that got me hornier every time I thought about it.
I had seen Eric pretty much everywhere the last two weeks; in the halls, in class, and in the cafeteria. Being the stud quarterback for our school, he was pretty hard to miss. He was always flanked by a large group of his friends like Malik and Tommy. Kirstin was never far from him either, his hands almost always on her body somewhere. He never acknowledged me when we passed in the hallways, which was normal, given who he was and his social status in the school. It only fueled my fire.
It was a Wednesday night when I got my next shot at Eric. I worked part time cooking burgers at a local burger joint on the west side of town. It was a small establishment, well kept by the owner, and although it was never packed, it did a steady business that kept it afloat, even through the recent economic downturn.
We didn't do much business after 8 pm, and being that we weren't a chain restaurant, we closed on most evenings at ten. It was nearing 8:30 pm when I glanced up from mopping the small dining room to see Eric walk through the door, alone. It was September, and though the nights were beginning to get cool, Eric wore navy blue mesh shorts, flip flops and a white t-shirt bearing our school mascot, with the sleeves cut off. I leaned the mop against a wall and moved to the counter just as Eric reached it.
"Hey Eric, what can I get you", I asked, looking into his blue eyes. This was the first time I had spoken to him face-to-face since the locker room incident. I was curious about the type of reaction I would get from him. I did, after all, witness him pitch a pretty good sized tent in his towel. Would he be embarrassed? Pissed? Or would he simply blow it off? I really had no idea what to expect.
"I'll have two cheeseburgers, a large fry and a water", he replied, looking from me, to the menu posted behind the counter. So that was the score huh? No "Hey Jackson", "Hey", or any other type of greeting for that matter. His lack of etiquette and reaction irritated me, but it confirmed, at least, that he wasn't pissed. Maybe embarrassed and hiding it well, or just blowing it off. But not pissed. Well... he didn't have a RIGHT to be pissed anyway, since HE was the one who got hard that day in the locker room.
I punched his order into the register. "That will be $6.79," I stated, waiting while laid his keys and cell phone on the counter. He reached into the waistband of his mesh shorts and pulled out a twenty dollar bill, neatly folded. Eric handed me the bill, and as soon as I grabbed it, I could feel it's dampness. I unfolded the bill, imagining to myself that the dampness must have come from sweat that had soaked into the material from whatever workout he had just finished.
I gave him his change, telling him that his food would be out shortly. I handed him a number to sit on his table, which was ridiculous really, because he was the only customer currently in the joint, but hey, I had been trained well.
He took the number, picked up his cell phone and keys and walked to a table, sitting down with his back to me. Eric immediately got on his cell phone, and began texting. Probably checking in with his bitch girlfriend. I knew I shouldn't really be thinking those types of thoughts about her; after all, she was actually pretty nice. But anything or anyone associated with Eric just rubbed me the wrong way. I hated how he and his friends just seemed to look through me.
I didn't see Jim (who was the owner) or Mike, the other employee who was closing with me tonight, so I started making Eric's food myself. Jim was probably in his tiny office doing bookwork, wondering how he was going to keep this place running. Who the fuck knew where Mike was. Probably outside smoking. He was 23, and made it to his senior year before dropping out of high school. He was a prime example of what I WASN'T going to turn out to be.
While I was waiting for the burgers and fries to finish, I began thinking that this might be another perfect opportunity to carry out my little plan. Hell, I was basically alone with Eric. There were no other paying customers, and for the moment, Jim and Mike were nowhere to be seen. It was now or never. I quickly walked to the back room, opened my backpack and fished out the bottle of Advil that held my cum. It was relatively fresh; I cleaned the bottle almost daily and admittedly, I had a damn good time refilling it. It was weird, I know, that I felt the need to keep it fresh, but who knew what would happen to it if I just kept filling it up with spunk.
I grabbed the bottle and raced back out to check on the burgers and fries. I was still the only one around.
I had to wait another few minutes before the food was finished. I placed the fries and burgers on a plate, in turn placing the plate on a red, plastic tray. I added the bottle of water Eric had ordered. Now for the finishing touch. A special sauce for Eric's burger. I lifted the buns on both burgers, setting them aside for the moment. I pulled the Advil container out of my pocket, unscrewed the lid, and watched as the creamy liquid slowly dropped onto the burgers. I recapped the Advil container, placed it back in my pocket and replaced the buns. Perfect. I hope Eric loved this special, homemade sauce I had prepared just for him!
Just as I was replacing the buns, Mike came walking up behind me. I could smell the cigarette smoke before he spoke to me. "Hey dude, thanks for covering for me," he said. I turned to face him.
"What the fuck Mike, you didn't even tell me you were going on break," I spat at him. God this guy irritated me. He wasn't ever going to make it out of this job with a work ethic like that.
"I needed a smoke. Jesus. Calm down Jackson," he replied, a smirk on his freckled face. He ran his hand over the stubble of his shaved head, back and forth. "I'm sorry alright. Anyway, Jim wants you to clean the bathroom."
'FUUUCKKK," I groaned. I yelled Eric's number , racing away from Mike before I totally lost it on the guy. I gathered the cleaning supplies I'd need and made my way to the bathroom, grabbing the wet mop and bucket on my way. At least it would help me relieve my stress. Well... I hoped so anyway.
I opened the bathroom door and flipped on the light switch. The overhead, fluorescent light flickered on and I surveyed the job ahead of me. Thank God, I thought, it's not really dirty. In fact, it wasn't dirty at all; it probably didn't even need cleaned, but Jim insisted on cleaning it every night. A superficial cleaning would do, and no one would be the wiser.
The bathroom was a small, unisex room with one urinal, one stall, a sink and a mirror. The fact that it was small was a lifesaver, especially on a night like tonight, when I wanted nothing to do with being at work anymore.
I set the mop and bucket aside and pulled on some gloves. I began by spraying the sink and mirror with cleaner, waiting a few seconds and then wiping them with a paper towel. Next, I moved to the urinal, cleaning it with the same superficial motion I did with the sink and mirror.
When I was done using the cleaner, I moved toward the mop and bucket. Just as I was about to grab the mop, the bathroom door swung open, admitting someone into the bathroom. My back was turned away from the door, so I couldn't see who it was at first, but I heard the click of the lock on the bathroom door. I turned to see Eric, who himself was just turning from locking the door. Our eyes met and I saw his were wide with...Horror? Embarrassment?
"What are you doing in here Eric," I asked as calmly as I could, "Didn't you see the out of order sign sitting out there?" I was nervous. It's not every day that the jock who rules your school locks himself in a public bathroom with you. On purpose or by accident. If it was on purpose, it probably meant I was going to get the shit beaten out of me soon. Admittedly, it quite possibly could've been one of the many fantasies about him I had had. But I doubted it. I was pretty sure at that moment I was about to get my ass kicked. Had he seen me add that special sauce?
I looked a little more closely at Eric and noticed he was sweating. There were tiny patches on his shirt where the sweat had begun to soak all the way through. It made the shirt cling to his muscled chest. I happened to glance a bit lower, and quickly brought my eyes back to his face. I felt my own face go red and my body tense. In that quick, fleeting glance below his waist, I saw Eric's mesh shorts, tented obscenely.
"Eric..." I said, before I felt myself shoved back against the wall. I hit with a grunt, recalling a similar scene that had played out not that long ago.
As he pushed me against the wall, I felt his steel hard bulge lightly brush against my stomach. "What the fuck are you looking at Jackson? " he spat, gripping my shirt tight in his balled up fists. "You NEVER saw this. Got it?" Eric said, his voice quivering with emotion.
As he gripped my shirt tighter, I felt him rock into me slightly, pushing his hips forward, causing his dick to poke me even harder. I heard him exhale softly. My own dick, soft up until this point, began to quickly lengthen, snaking its way down the right pant leg of the blue jeans that were a part of my uniform.
Without a word of warning, Eric grabbed my arm and used it to spin me around so that I was no longer facing him. I extended my right arm, bracing myself against the wall as he pushed me into it again, though not as forcefully this time. Horny and hard, I could feel him once more pressing against me. Not just his dick or his crotch though, his entire BODY was pressed against me now. I could feel the heat emanating from him. Pushing his hips forward, he smashed his rock hard cock into my jeans. As he pushed forward, I too moved my hips forward. I wasn't sure exactly what was going on at this point, but I sure as hell wasn't trying to provoke him by making a move on this guy.
He felt me try to move my body forward, away from his. In response, he used his right hand to grip me around the waist, pulling my body into his. Our bodies were as close together as two bodies could be. I could feel his shuddering, uneasy breaths on my neck. "I don't know what's going on Jackson," he whispered, "I don't feel like I can control myself." Another thrust forward from Eric, and this time a soft moan escaped his lips.
I didn't really know what to say him, so I decided to say nothing. I wasn't strong enough to wrestle myself free of his grip, and to be quite honest, it felt so DAMN good that I wouldn't have, even if I could. Instead, I pushed my ass backward to meet Eric's thrusting hips. I could barely feel the hardness of his tool as it slid upward along the heavy material of my jeans.
"Ahhhh..." Eric sighed, holding me tightly in his grip. I looked down at the corded muscles in his forearm, lightly dusted with hair. God I wished this could last forever. Though I couldn't see his face, I imagined his eyes were closed, enjoying the sensations coming from the rubbing of his crotch against my ass.
"Jackson," he said, his lips moving against my neck.
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry for doing this dude," he said in a shuddering voice. "I... I don't want to...this isn't me." He sounded genuinely sincere. However, his hips kept pushing that turgid tool into my backside. And of course, I kept pushing back.
"Eric, it's ok. Just...just fucking hurry up man. We have to get out of here before someone comes to check on me. If my manager comes, he's going to wonder why I've locked the bathroom in order to clean it." Eric didn't know that I was gay, and I figured telling him to hurry up so we could leave would make it seem as though I wasn't super interested in what was going on. Hell, I still wasn't sure if this was some sick joke or not. As though my words released him from a prison, Eric started bucking forward even more frantically than before. He moaned a bit louder now, yet nowhere near loud enough to give us away if there were customers on the other side of the door.
Suddenly, I felt Eric fumbling at my belt. WHAAAAT?! Was he really trying to get to my dick?? It had to be too good to be true. I had dreamed of this many times over the last several years. Not always with Eric, but usually with one of the many jocks I had seen around my school.
Slowing down his thrusts, he undid my belt, causing my pants to bunch up on the floor around my ankles. He readjusted his grip on my mid-section, lightly brushing his hand against the bulging front of my red briefs as he did so. I was so horned up that this slightest bit of touching caused me tremble.
Forward and backward he bucked his hips against me. The feel of his tool moving up and down the trench of my ass, covered only by the thin cotton fabric was much more satisfying, now that he had removed my jeans. I moved in rhythm with Eric now, trying to get him off as quickly as possible. I wanted to reach around and grab his dick, but one hand was braced against the wall, and the other was blocked by Eric's forearm.
"Ahhh...ahhh...AHHHH!" Eric moaned as he got closer to orgasm. He kept up his string of grunts and soft moans, eventually letting out a "FUUUUCCCCKKK!" as he released his thick, creamy load into his mesh shorts. He held me against his body tightly, breathing hard. I could feel the warmth of his seed spreading through the mesh material, into my cotton briefs.
Eric loosened his grip on me and I turned around to face him. He had stepped back a pace or two, and I took the opportunity to reach down and pull up my pants. I hadn't gotten off and I was still raging hard, so I flipped my dick up into the waistband of my briefs, hoping it would be less obvious.
I didn't even bother trying to release my own load. "Look, I have to get back to work," I said to Eric. He was staring through me, and his eyes glistened with unshed tears. I wasn't sure if he even heard me. "Clean yourself up and wait a few minutes before you head out the door after me". Eric still didn't respond. "Hey," I said. "HEY! ERIC!" I grabbed his shoulder and he used his arm to silently, but aggressively shrug me off. I hoped Eric wasn't going to be a basketcase about this tomorrow. I knew he'd keep what had happened here a secret. I didn't want the entire school knowing I was gay, and I KNEW he didn't. But that didn't mean his mind wouldn't twist the events and cause him to blame me.
I moved to the door, unlocked it and walked out of the bathroom with the mop and supplies as though I had just finished cleaning it. The place was still empty, save for Adam, a teenaged redneck I had few classes with. We hung out here or there at some of the same parties, but that was as far as it went. He nodded to me, his shaded by the brim of his camouflage baseball cap. He must have walked in to the restaurant not long after I started cleaning the bathroom.
Pushing the mop and bucket behind the counter, I concentrated on the jobs I had to perform in order to close the store. It was a struggle though. All I could REALLY think about was getting home and getting off to this amazing experience I was sure would fuel my jack-off sessions for quite some time to come. ______________________________________________________________________
I didn't tell my brother Gavin about the second experience with Eric. Somehow I knew he'd look down on me continuing this plan of spiking Eric's drinks. He'd tell me once was enough, blah blah. Didn't I think a second time was going too far? He was right, just like he was every other time. And I didn't want to admit to him that once again, I was wrong.
The next day at school, I was paired with Eric in Chemistry class for a lab on reaction rates. He wasn't my normal partner, but since both his partner and mine were absent, Mrs. Gross asked us to work together. As we gathered our materials and began setting up the lab, I itched to ask Eric if he was ok with what had happened the night before. He was treating me normally so far, which was to say he treated me as though he barely knew me. Not mean, but not overly friendly either. Maybe the term "barely knew me" was wrong. More like he treated me as someone he was forced to work with.
As we settled down to wait for the reaction to take place, I figured I'd take a shot. I wasn't usually this bold. But I HAD to know. I had no idea how he'd react, but with 25 people in the room, I doubt he'd lose control. My stomach fluttered nervously as I looked around. I didn't really want anyone to overhear this conversation. No one was near, and the noise level had risen quite a bit as the rest of the class waited for their reactions to occur. The only person looking at me was Adam, the redneck I saw coming out of the bathroom. He smirked at me for some reason, but then started talking to his lab partner. I hadn't the slightest clue what THAT was about.
"Eric," I said hesitantly, "you ok with things?"
"What?" he replied, investing the word with an inflection that meant he really didn't understand what I was referring to.
"Are you ok? With what happened last night."
"Dude, I don't know what you're talking about."
Was this guy serious? "Eric. In the bathroom last night when I was cleaning."
"Look Jackson, really. I don't know what the hell you're asking me about," Eric said, a look of genuine confusion on his face.
I decided to let it drop. "Never mind," I said, irritated. All I wanted was a straight answer. Did he really not remember what happened? Was he THAT horrified that he blocked the incident from his memory? Was he just bullshitting me? I didn't think he was; I mean, after pushing me against a locker in the locker room and generally just being an asshole, I figured he'd probably just tell me to mind my fucking business. But he didn't.
"Here look," Eric said pointing to the flask, "it's starting to react." Taking my mind and refocusing it on the lab at hand, I forgot momentarily about the situation.
The rest of the day dragged slowly on, and in my fifth period study hall, I had some time to think. We were allowed to put earbuds in as long as the music wasn't loud, so I got mine out of my backpack, plugged them into my phone and slouched down in my chair to relax.
My mind was on Eric and bathroom incident all day, so it was no surprise that when I had free time at school, my thoughts were consumed by it. It turned me on...really turned me on to think back on that. But it also really intrigued me. Why had Eric acted the way he did when he was in that tiny bathroom with me? Why didn't he just beat the shit out of me, or simply leave for that matter? He always made it a point to ignore me socially at every chance he got.
I still couldn't wrap my brain around why Eric would pretend not to remember what had happened the night before. Was he just ignoring the obvious, in hopes that I'd drop it? Stunningly enough, Eric hadn't tried to do anything to force me to remain silent. Maybe he really DIDN'T remember. I had heard of people blocking out traumatic situations, but this was a situation of his own making.
While I was sitting in study hall trying to sort through all of this, some of Eric's words came back to me. I don't know what's going on. This isn't me. I'm sorry. I don't feel like I can control myself. While I was in the bathroom with Eric, I don't think I fully comprehended what he was saying. I was so focused on the feelings and the moment at hand. However, with a day's distance between me and the event, some things stood a bit clearer now.
One thing was for sure. I had seen Eric, the star quarterback, with a raging hard-on two times in the last two weeks. A thought popped into my head then. Not only had I seen him with a hard-on twice, but both times he had unknowingly consumed some of my cum right before this hard-on had appeared. I kind of laughed to myself at the silliness of that. Haha. I could only wish I had some sort of power like that. Still though, as far-fetched as that sounded, it started taking shape as the ONLY explanation I could come up with. Of course I didn't believe it. I mean, not REALLY. But....
I felt my earbud being pulled out of my ear and voice whispered "Hey Jackson...you know single person bathrooms are meant for only one person." I twisted myself around in my seat, a look of surprise surely painting my face. "Relax man," Adam said, moving his camo hat around on the desk in front of him, "I'm not going to say anything. What were you guys doing?"
I had to think quickly. Shit! I was bad at thinking quickly. While I searched for an answer, Adam came to my rescue.
"Were you dealing?"
"No...Eric just wanted to know if I had any to sell to him," I whispered back. "I don't deal. I mean, only once in a while. I don't LOOK to sell". It was the truth, at least the part about dealing. I wasn't trying to get myself in any major trouble. Although maybe I just did. Didn't I just peg Eric as a drug user? I knew he didn't use. Not anything. But wasn't it better than pegging him (and myself) as a homo? I figured I was less likely to get a pounding by telling Adam what I just did.
"Gentlemen, " Mr. Shanebrook said, "you know the rules. No talking!"
We both mumbled apologies and I turned around. My heart was racing. I had just dodged a major bullet.
As the end of class neared, I began thinking more about my theory. My incredibly ridiculous theory. That somehow my teen juice had caused all this. Well...I had nothing else to do tonight, I thought. I might as well try to test it out. It might be fun. My chemistry teacher would be proud of my initiative; after all, I was using the scientific method. Since I was going straight home, and had no other plans, my brother Gavin would be the perfect person to test it out on. __________________________________________________________
I didn't wait long to test my theory out. Gavin was already home. I bounded up the stairs, dropped my backpack in my room, and went into Gavin's room. He was on his bed, lying on his back reading A Tale of Two Cities. I hoped he wasn't reading it for pleasure, but who knew with him.
"Hey, I'm heading down to get a Coke. You want one?" I offered.
"Sure. Thanks Jackson."
Well THAT was easy. In the kitchen I mixed the remaining contents of the bottle into his drink. I kind of felt bad for doing this to my little bro, but what the hell. It wasn't hurting him was it?
I walked back up the steps and handed him the drink. "Looks like an interesting read," I said sarcastically.
"Not terrible," Gavin said. "I need to get it finished by next week." So. It wasn't for pleasure.
"Have fun with it." I walked out the door, closing it most of the way. I left a small crack that I felt I might be able to use to observe him. Outside of his room, I silently stood and waited. I had no idea how long it was going to take. Hell, I didn't even expect it to work. I was crazy for thinking it would!
It wasn't but ten minutes after I left his room though, that Gavin's face began to change slightly. A puzzled look. His hand began to wander toward his crotch. He seemed to be readjusting. Pushing down slightly with some pressure.
He went back to reading, but after a few minutes, Gavin started rubbing and squeezing a little more. It was clear now that he had thrown wood. And A Tale of Two Cities COULDN'T have been the cause of it. Was this really happening??? I mean REALLY? It made no sense. And yet, here I was, third time in a row, looking at someone's sprung, teenaged wood.
By now, Gavin's hand had moved to his belt. He was unbuckling it!! I was starting to get uncomfortable. I had never seen Gavin naked, and I knew he'd freak if knew I caught him masturbating.
Suddenly I heard the front door open, and my mom yelled out "Hey guys! I'm home!" I bolted to my room, and as I entered it, I heard Gavin's door slam shut.
This ends Part 2. Thanks for reading! Again, if you have any comments or suggestions, please feel free to contact me at psuwxguy@gmail.com. Also, please consider donating to Nifty!