Chapter 01:
There were several roads out of town, other more trafficked roads, but Johnny picked the one closest to the direction he wanted to travel as he walked along it occasionally turning back at the sound of an engine causing his thick, shaggy hair to sway about his head as he turned slightly each time with his thumb out. A rucksack on his back with a spare change of clothes and a few essentials, a new pair of shoes on his feet, old jeans with a few holes that clung to his body when he moved, a shirt with the sleeves and sides cut out, bare shoulders and a tease of flesh from the side, a hint of muscle could be seen. He walked along under the shade of trees trying to not think too much about what he was doing. He was afraid of what he might find yet he didn't want to stay. The worst case scenario he had created in his imagination was that in a day or two he'd catch a bus back home where he'd find a summer job and go to college in a few months as his mother had planned for him.
Cars passed by traveling at fifty or sixty miles per hour with no signs of slowing for him, a few honked their horns as if to signal to him that he shouldn't be there, that he was foolish. After all picking up hitchhikers had gone out of style some twenty or thirty years previous, no one had the time, no one had the trust anymore to stop for someone on the road. He had walked for hours, and though he felt capable of walking for more the fact that not even one person had slowed down to ask where he was going was disheartening. And he remembered the feeling of being in a car, of driving along these same roads, just zip by at sixty miles per hour and he could be in the next town thirty miles away in just twenty or thirty minutes, but as he walked along he realized just how far away those places were. A mile, thirty miles, if he averaged three miles per hour, that would be ten hours. He shook off the thought and looked back once again at the sound of a car speeding up from behind. He forced a smile on his face, turned to it, and stuck out his thumb. He was surprised when he saw it begin to slow and a turn signal indicating the driver was pulling over. He noted it was a man, a middle aged man, in the driver's seat, who pulled to the side of the road slightly ahead of him and he broke into a jog to the passenger side window. The man lowered the powered window.
"Hey what are you doing out here? Are you broke down?"
Johnny bent down and looked into the car. The passenger seat was littered with paperwork. He recognized a coffee cup from the town's gas station in a holder. The man was middle aged but fit, dressed in a button down shirt and slacks, a gold watch on his wrist and a wedding band on his finger.
"Something like that," Johnny replied, "I'm trying to get out of town."
"Are the cops after you?"
"What? No, nothing like that, I'm on kind of a summer adventure," he replied.
"Nobody hitchhikes anymore," the man said.
"Can I get a ride?"
"Where are you going?"
"Anywhere but here."
"I'm going up into New York. Do you want to ride with me for a while?"
"Yeah," Johnny said.
The man unlocked the passenger side door with a push of the button and Johnny opened it. He took off his pack and stuck it between his legs as he sat. The man stuck out his hand and said, "my name's Greg" so Johnny shook his hand and told him his name. They smiled at each other and the man quickly pulled back out onto the road, pressed on the gas to get them back up to traveling speed. Johnny heard the familiar sounds of classic rock playing from the speakers and the man turned up the volume. They drove in otherwise silence for thirty minutes, this road then that road until he spotted the familiar neighboring town. Johnny saw the signs and for a moment he thought to ask the man to pull over and let him out. It wouldn't be easy to get back home, he'd have to call his mother, maybe call his father, a friend, and beg them to bring him home. Someone would take pity on him. And yet the man kept driving and Johnny didn't say anything. They quickly passed the town and it was gone.
No more familiarity. Each mile now it was less likely someone would drive out an get him and he remembered the idea of getting a bus ticket, yes, a bus ticket would get him back home, he told himself. It was a little comfort to know, just a little day adventure, maybe a night of rough sleeping, but he could get back home with the money in his pocket, the money hidden in his boot, maybe even spend the money in his pack and he'd get back home flat broke. Johnny felt a pain in his stomach but dismissed it as he looked to the man who showed no emotion as he drove.
This was the beginning of an adventure and an hour later they were in New York. Somehow they had fallen into making small talk, the silence had become unbearable and one of them just started talking, nothing in particular. The man didn't ask why he was leaving, didn't ask where he was going, just idle chit chat, that is until the man pulled off into a town. Johnny felt something change. It was over. The ride was over, just like that he was in a new state, in a new town. The man had gotten close to where he was wanting to go. And Johnny, well he was somewhere else but he wasn't really anywhere, no he was now completely on his own. The man pulled into a fast food chain restaurant parking lot and parked.
"Do you want my advice?" Greg forced into the silence. "Go in and get something to eat. Whatever you want and think about what you want to do next. It's not too late to call home. It's never too late to call home. You have to know someone who can pick you up. Just go in and get something, maybe something familiar, and think about what you're giving up. And know that unless I'm wrong, you don't have all the money in the world. Its tough out here for a boy like you. I know it. Boys like you get chewed up and spit out if you're lucky. If you're not you'll get swallowed and shit out like everyone else."
Johnny felt the reality of the man's words as he sat there in the stranger's car and yet he felt compelled to do the opposite. He thanked the man and pushed open the door, climbed out and put his bag over one shoulder. He looked down inside to the man who said, "think about it" then he thanked him again and closed the door. He stepped back, watched the man pull out and drive away. He looked around at the unfamiliar town, then he looked to the restaurant, something artificially familiar. He shook off the thoughts and fears of the man and walked the twenty feet to the door, just a quick bite and then I'm on the road, he told himself.
Chapter 02:
Surrounded as he was by strangers Johnny felt like even if this was a mistake that he was glad to be there. Take it one moment at a time, he told himself, this is the beginning of an adventure. And yet he couldn't help but think of Greg's warning, there was danger too. He looked around and identified the homeless woman in the corner reading a newspaper. She had to intent on going anywhere else. He spotted the family of four who sat a few tables away, the overworked father and the desperate, anxious mother, two boys who just wanted to play. He spotted the man in a suit and tie who ate quickly then dashed out the door eager to make some money. There was an old couple, a man and woman who seemed to be bonded together, who watched each other and moved in compliment with each other.
Staying at home would have been easy. He could be on the couch right now playing videogames and trash talking his enemies. He could be out on his skateboard riding along the sidewalk killing time. Killing time, that's all he would be doing. He had told his mother what he was going to do. She didn't believe him, so that morning he left a letter for her. He said he was going to take the long way to college, though he still wasn't sure he was going to end up there. But even as he sat there he thought about standing on the side of the road.
Thirty miles could be so far away with just two feet, and three months... three months meant ninety days of finding breakfast, lunch, dinner, a roof to put over his head, but most important of all a way to travel, a way to see the country. Whatever it was, whatever he had to do, it had to be better than just sitting around and waiting, keeping up pretenses, keeping everyone happy.
Travel would be good for him, he told himself, anything to stay away from the trouble he had almost caused, anything to stay away from Peter and his father Howard. What would they think of him going missing? Would they mourn him? Would they share their grief? He had really put himself between a rock and a hard place with them.
Just two months until graduation, that's when it happened. Peter and Johnny had been on the basketball court playing against each other, jerseys and shorts, a quick game so they wouldn't be bored. That's when Howard showed up in his new Mustang. He honked at the boys to get their attention. Peter saw his father in the car and dropped the ball. It hit his foot and rolled across the court into the fence.
"It's my father," he said, "and he's got a new car."
Johnny looked over to where his friend stared and he made it out instantly. There Howard sat in the driver's seat with a big smile on his face. He waved at the boys to come over. He was eager for them to see it, eager for them to praise him for buying it, be in awe that he could afford such a thing. Johnny shrugged off the awkwardness of the situation and said, "let's go see it."
"Another one of my father's mid-life crisis mistakes," Peter replied,
"I wonder how long my mom is going to let him keep it."
"It's not so bad. Maybe he'll let you drive it," Johnny replied before tagging his friend on the shoulder and beginning to walk across the court.
"I'll be right there. I'm going to get the ball," Peter said.
Johnny didn't look back. He walked across the court to the man, his grin getting bigger the closer he got. He tried to memorize each detail of the car as he did. It was shiny and had no imperfections, no scratches and no dents, everything about it was new. He moved to the driver's side door and leaned down to the window.
"Do you like it?"
"It looks really good Mr. Luftcox," he replied.
"I just got it. It's my little treat to myself."
"It's nice."
"Fresh from the showroom floor, the salesman had to give me some lessons to drive it, just a few. I had muscle cars when I was younger. When I was your age I'd drive around and get all kinds of action." He winked to Johnny who smiled back despite the feeling that passed from his shoulders to his stomach. "There's no good place to max it out but I've been up and down the highways here, almost got a speeding ticket. She really goes."
"She?"
"Yeah, you know cars and ships are fine women," Howard said.
"Well, it's really nice."
"Get Peter over here and I'll take you both for a spin. The backseat isn't much but the ride is a lot of fun."
There was another feeling that passed through him. This man wanted to celebrate. Johnny looked over his shoulder to see Peter walk across the court slowly dribbling the ball as he did, as if he could put off this truth. He stepped off the court, tucked the ball under his arm, and moved to them.
"Wow dad," he said.
"Do you boys want to go for a ride?"
"Yeah," Johnny said hoping his friend would go along with it.
"I don't know," Peter replied.
"Hey, it's really nice. You can both fit."
"Well, I guess before mom makes you take it back," Peter said.
"Hey, no way, not this time. This is mine. I paid for it completely."
Johnny looked to Peter who bit his lip. He could tell his friend had mixed feelings about this. Hell, it was more than mixed feelings. Peter was angry at his father for being so irresponsible, yet he knew there was nothing he could say. The man was always telling him about all the work he did, all the sacrifices he made, not just his time but other peoples time. He was the owner and the boss of his own construction company, a well known construction company that got bids for expensive jobs. Bids that he at times had alluded to being not so on the level, the shady dealings of working with the mob, doing whatever he needed to do. Peter had told him and he had heard for himself how the man had started from nothing and worked his way up.
Almost every time they sat down to a spaghetti dinner he'd point out to the boy that it was better than the ketchup and noodles they were eating when he was five.
"Let's go, hop in," the man said.
Johnny stood and looked to Peter who shrugged. His face was serene, the familiar disassociation that Johnny had come to know from his friend, the look that said he had a feeling he couldn't express but he knew the right thing to do. The right thing to do was to get into the car and let his father show off and try to impress them. Johnny tagged his friend on the shoulder again and motioned for them to walk around the car which they did.
"Hey Peter, why don't you let Johnny ride in the passenger seat and you get in back," Howard said, "after all you'll get plenty of opportunities to ride along."
"Sure," Peter replied before pushing the passenger seat up and climbing into the back with the basketball.
Johnny saw the look on his friend's face as he retreated into the backseat, held the ball in his lap, tried to shrink into a forgettable shadow. Johnny sat in the passenger seat, buckled his seatbelt just before Howard shifted into reverse and pulled out of the parking spot. He rolled through the lot slowly and came to a stop, looked both ways and there was no traffic, then he grinned at Johnny and pressed down on the gas. He burned tire before pulling out and speeding down the road.
"Do you hear the purr? Isn't she great?"
"It's awesome," Johnny replied.
And it was. He could feel the power of it. It was unlike anything else. He could feel the vibrations of the engine, the way it moved. It had real power, real speed. Howard was quick to drive through the neighborhood with one thing on his mind getting to the highway.
"Can you just take me home?" Peter asked from his shadow.
"Nonsense, we've got a full tank of gas. You have to at least let me show you a little of what this thing can do."
Howard made his way to the highway, the familiar turns, all the houses, everything went by more quickly than before and Johnny found himself enthused by it, turned on by it. He felt his erection push against his jockstrap. This was it. He wanted one of his own some day, he told himself. And when they got to the highway he worried for a moment that the man was going to fast on the on ramp, there was a slight squeal of tire but he just kept pushing. He hit sixty before even getting on the highway and he didn't settle for the slow lane, no he went right into the passing lane. Seventy, then eighty miles per hour, ninety, Johnny felt as if he had left his stomach back on the court. He looked around at all the cars they passed, all of the semi-trucks, and back to the speedometer, one hundred miles per hour and that's when he felt it. Howard's hand drifted from the shifter to his knee.
This is what he wanted. It must have been something to do with his sweat, Johnny thought, because it had happened before, not just with Howard with but other men, young and old, single and married. Was it his sweat? Was it his look, a strong jaw, broad shoulders, and a muscled body? Was it something else? Ever since he was about fourteen he knew other men wanted him, gay and straight. At first it felt creepy, like the other men were predators and he was the prey but in the last year as he felt he was on the verge of becoming a man it felt like something else. Because he realized they didn't want to eat him as he had long suspected and feared, no they wanted him to eat them. It was somehow the opposite, he was the hunter and they were his prey.
His fingers moved down through the hairs on his thigh, pushed his basketball shorts up, and he reached in and took hold of Johnny's dick that was already leaking ejaculate. Johnny looked over his shoulder to Peter who was staring down at his ball not wanting any part of his father's adventure with his new car, then he looked to the man's crotch and he saw he also had an erection.
"It's really nice," Howard said.
His finger slipped down under Johnny's balls, under the pouch of his jockstrap and between his sweaty cheeks right to his hole. Johnny felt the tip right there and he pushed himself back in the seat, felt the way it formed around his body. There was the engine's vibrations, the cars behind them, the smell of his own body and the smell of a new car. Howard grinned and just when Johnny thought it would come to some end the man pulled his hand out and moved it to the shifter.
"Oh shit, it's the cops," he said.
"Try explaining this one to mom," Peter said.
Howard looked in his rear view mirror for a moment to his son. There had been a time as Peter had said, when the man would have slapped him for saying something like that, but not here, not now, not in front of Johnny. He slowed and moved over the lanes to the berm. He came to a stop, one glance down to Johnny's leg and the young man pulled the bottom of his shorts to his knee where it was supposed to be.
They waited for a long time before cop got out of his car. He walked up to the window and Howard lowered it. He pulled out his driver's license, his registration and proof of insurance, along with something else. He handed over the documents to the cop before looking back to Johnny. They both knew Peter wouldn't be impressed. He wanted his father to get a ticket. But Johnny, he was supposed to be impressed, and so he acted like he was, tried to put every feeling of admiration into his reaction as the cop handed back the documents.
"Sir, I realize you just got the car and you want to impress your son here but you really can't be out here speeding like this. I've got the itch myself but it's dangerous not just for yourself and your son but all of these other drivers out here. I'm going to let you off with a warning but if it happens again I'll have to give you a ticket. And sir, the way you were driving just now it might just mean your license."
"Thank you officer," Howard replied.
And like that it was over. The cop returned to his car and Howard pulled back onto the highway being more conservative and safe in his driving. He turned around at the next opportunity and sped back home, ten miles over the speed limit but that was just to keep up with traffic. Johnny noticed that the man didn't even come close to touching him the entire time. They pulled into the driveway fifteen minutes later slightly exhausted from their experience.
"Do you want to stick around for dinner?" Howard asked.
"Sure," Johnny replied.
They all got out of the car and walked into the house to find it was empty. Peter's mother and sister weren't home. They walked through to the kitchen. There was a note on the refrigerator saying that they were both out shopping at the mall and they would be home late. There was no food in the oven. Howard made an act of looking in the refrigerator and the freezer but said he didn't want to cook. He pulled his wallet out.
"Hey Peter, would you run and get us some food?"
"Sure dad," he replied.
"Take your sister's car," he said, "since she's out with your mother."
Johnny hid the smirk at the thought of Peter driving his sister's pink Volkswagon. It had been a gift from their grandmother when she graduated from college. Peter expected he'd get his own, at least that was the deal, if he stayed at home all through college, and if he graduated with honors.
"Get us some pizza, wings, breadsticks, a couple cases of pop, and go to that little bakery your mom likes and get some cheesecake for dessert."
"But she's not even here," Peter replied.
"I know, but when she sees my new car she's going to be pissed. The cheesecake might might make it easier for her."
"Okay," Peter sighed. "Do you want to come with me?" he asked looking to Johnny who looked out of the corner of his eyes to Howard.
"No, why don't you let him stay here? We'll get things ready, chill the wine. You just go take care of it. You should be able to manage."
Peter gave in to his father's orders and walked away. Johnny looked to the man. Howard smiled back. They both listened for the door to the garage to close, then the sound of the garage door opening, Peter started the car and backed out of the driveway, breaks screeched when he hit the road and Howard shook his head in disappointment.
"I don't know what you see in that boy. He can be such a little cry baby," Howard said, "but I guess you two have been friends all of your life."
Johnny nodded his head. And when the man moved towards him aggressively he half stepped back before the man had his hands on his sides and wrapped his fingers around him. He pulled Johnny into a kiss and once again his dick stiffened in the pouch of his jockstrap. Johnny gave a little at first, then kissed back, pushed back at the man until the two of them were in a struggle as their hands grabbed at each other's bodies. Johnny pulled away from the kiss.
"I should go shower," he said.
"No, right now I want you. I want you like I've never wanted you before. I want to lick the sweat from your balls and I want you to fuck me until I'm weak in the knees. Come on let's do it, quick while everyone is out."
Johnny knew what the man wanted and he was going to give it to him. He put his hands on the man's shoulders and pushed him down until he was on his knees. Howard pulled his shorts down just enough to get at the pouch, pressed his face against his hard dick through the material before pulling that down just enough to free it. He kissed and licked at the younger man's dick, spit ran down his balls and he licked that up, licked and sucked the sweat, the salt, from the younger man's skin. He put his dick into his mouth and he sucked. Johnny felt the rush of blood, the feeling that his dick would be turned inside out by this man's mouth and he ran his fingers through the man's hair. He heard the squeak of his sneakers on the linoleum floor as he slid back into the refrigerator and the man kept at him.
There he stood in his best friend's kitchen getting a blow job from his father. His shorts fell down around his ankles, the straps of his jock clung to his butt cheeks, his jersey stretched with the bobbing of the man's head. He ran his fingers over his own nipples as he stood in the orange light of the ceiling fan. It was so wrong and yet it felt so good. This was his best friend's father and yet this man wanted him and wanted this man. Howard pulled off his dick and it slapped him across the face as he went in to tongue his balls again.
"I want it. Fuck me right here," the man ordered.
"Get up," Johnny replied.
Howard stood and before he could steady himself Johnny grabbed at him, turned him and put him bent over against the counter. He made quick work of pulling down his pants and underwear. He grabbed at the other man's hard dick and balls just for a moment before pressing his spit covered dick to his hole. Thighs pressed together he felt Howard's legs shake as he pushed inside. And there it was. It was the ultimate feeling of power and satisfaction, deep and warm inside this man who had once seemed so large, so powerful. He pushed into him until he was balls deep and he grabbed at the man's hairy ass, ran his fingers down to his thighs then back up, pushed the man's shirt up his back and balled it in his fists as he began to piston inside of him. His balls slapped at the other man's balls. He went hard, pressed
Howard's face into the granite top. He heard the seams tear on his shirt but it didn't stop him. He kept at it. He pushed himself into the man, unrelenting and hard. Howard cried out in pain. He cried out in pleasure. And he cried out for more, deeper, harder, faster. It took all of Johnny's strength and endurance, at one point he lifted the other man off his heels with each thrust, sweat covered his body and his legs ached but he powered through until he felt that moment of pleasure, that moment when it felt like his very soul was escaping him and he felt that tingle of pain as his balls tightened and he shot his load into the man. His legs began to spasm and he pulled out, stepped back into the kitchen island. Howard beat upon the counter with one hand in celebration before slowly falling to his knees and turning and pressing his back to the cupboards. He looked up to Johnny who began to tuck his dick back into his jockstrap.
"No don't, let me clean it off," he begged.
This was new. He had never done that before and Johnny felt it a little disgusting but he still moved to the man who took his dick into his mouth and sucked it a little until there was no more sensation to get from it. Finally he pushed the younger man away and let his head fall back against the cupboard door.
"We'll have to both hit the showers," he said.
"What about Peter?"
"When he gets back with the food we'll eat."
"No, I mean we were supposed to do stuff, chill the wine."
"That's easy enough," Howard replied.
And for a moment they stood and sat in the quiet of the empty house before they set about what they had to do. Howard went to the master bedroom, got into the master shower. Johnny went to Peter's room and took a change of clothes from his drawer.
"I'm sorry Pete," he said.
But it was over. It had been done and he set about covering up.