It costs money to maintain Nifty. If you enjoy these stories, consider donating to help keep the site up and running. You can do it here: https://donate.nifty.org/
I enjoy getting feedback. If you like the story, feel free to email me at butters2020@protonmail.com. If you didn't like the story, I don't want to hear it, so email someone else.
The Drive-in
By
Butters2020
Bob
Matt Chisholm was the ugliest man in Hawthorn, Georgia. He came back from The War with a bum leg and half his face looking like it was made of wax that had been in the sun too long. Everyone in town was shocked when the people from Hollywood showed up to talk to him.
"Maybe they're doing a remake of Hunchback of Notre Dame," I said. I was a sophomore at the only high school in Hawthorn. I'd never seen the original movie, but I'd read the Junior Classics version of the book.
My best friend Jeff, a year older than me at fifteen, said, "With his mug, I was thinking Phantom of the Opera."
We were walking to school. It was 1958, a great time to be a teenager if you were white, male, and straight. The Korean conflict was over. It would be another seven years before American troops were sent to fight in Vietnam. Sure, the commies could blow us all to hell, but there was no use worrying about that since we couldn't do anything about it. Life was good.
If you were white, male, and straight. Over in Arkansas last year that colored girl had to have the National Guard escort when she went to the school that used to be all white. She was just a year older than me and Jeff.
Jeff's parents are divorced. Super scandal in a town the size of Hawthorn. She can't get credit and the only job she can get is a clerk at the five and dime. The church brings them food baskets at Thanksgiving and Christmas, which mortifies Jeff. We don't talk about it.
Then there's me. White. Male. I've had a girlfriend. I never did anything with a guy. As far as I'm concerned that makes me straight. You can't go to jail for what you're thinking, right? Even if you're thinking it when you beat your meat? Even if you're thinking it about Jeff?
Jeff
It turns out everyone was wrong. Hollywood didn't want Mr. Chisholm to star in the movies, they wanted him to show movies. Mr. Chisholm owned twenty-five acres of land that he never bothered to do anything with. After the Hollywood people left he cleared some of it but hardly anyone knew. I knew cuz I watched the progress. It gets hotter than hell's bathwater in Hawthorn. When it gets so hot that I can't sleep in my room I grab my sleeping bag and climb out the window of my second floor room and climb up onto the roof to sleep. That part of the roof isn't too steep so I don't worry about rolling off. I used to take Dad's Tasco telescope up there. Before he moved out, we looked through it together, looking at the moon or Saturn. It's been in the attic since he left.
Anyway, I was up on the roof laying out my sleeping bag when I noticed that some of the trees had been cleared on Mr. Chisholm's land. After that I started paying attention. I couldn't see what all was going on at first because some trees were still in the way blocking the view. I dragged the old Tasco out of the attic and took it to the roof and aimed it at Mr. Chisholm's property. I had to swap out the eyepiece to focus on something closer than the moon but then I had a perfect view.
The next day I told Bob, "There are a couple of buildings on one end and playground equipment on the other end. Behind the playground is some kind of scaffolding."
"It's a movie screen!" Bob said. "He's building a drive-in movie! We went to one in Atlanta!"
Bob was right. A month later, just after school let out for the summer, Chisholm's Drive-in was open to the public. We didn't have a movie theater in Hawthorn. You had to drive thirty miles to go to the movies. This was a big deal. A sign out on highway twelve marked the entrance to the drive-in: 2 SHOWS NIGHTLY, RAIN OR SHINE. NEW SHOW EVERY WED. FRI. 8PM AND MIDNIGHT OPENS 7:30.
We'd ridden our bikes there. "Two new movies a week!" I said. "I bet I can see the screen from my roof."
"Too bad you can't hear. You'd be able to see the movies for free."
"How'd you boys like to hear the movies for free and not just see 'em?" Mr. Chisholm asked. We didn't know he was there until he spoke. He'd driven up in an electric golf cart. The ticket booth was half a mile down the drive from route 12 and his bum leg made it too difficult to walk the drive-in property.
"Cripes! You gave me a coronary!" Bob said. Neither of us were freaked at Mr. Chisholm's half melted face. We'd grown up seeing it. "How can we see the movies for free?"
"By working for me. Them Hollywood folks taught me how to run the projector. Ol' Turkeyneck Fishbein is gonna sell tickets. I need someone to work the concession stand at night, pick up the trash in the morning, and mow the grass once a week. I can pay you a dollar an hour, plus two hotdogs and a pop each night. And free admission on your days off. Interested?"
"Yes!" we both said.
It turned out that "in the morning" meant nine o'clock Wednesday throught Saturday, but five a.m. on Sunday. The Hickory Road Baptist Church was going to hold services at the Drive-in on Sunday mornings and Mr. Chisholm insisted we have the grounds spic and span before the first car pulled in.
Me and Bob soon named the different areas of the Drive-in. Down near the screen, where the playground equipment was, we called Candyland. That's where all the families parked. Before the movie started the little kids played on the swings and monkey bars and slides and ate a thousand Hershey bars and boxes of Good n Plenty that we sold at the concession stand. There was a garbage can by the swings and another one by the monkey bars but they must have been invisible because both cans were empty every morning but the dirt in Candyland was piled high with candy wrappers, empty Milk Dud boxes and Good n Plenty boxes.
Behind Candyland was Tobacco Road. I don't know why all the smokers parked there, but they did. The last thing they did before they drove out of the drive-in was empty their ashtrays out the windows of their cars. You ever try to sweep up cigarette butts from the dirt?
But the most interesting part of the Drive-in was Condom Alley. It was way in the back, along the fence by the side parking area.
Bob
The first day Jeff and I were cleaning up and saw all those used rubbers was an eye opener, that's for sure. I tried to remember who was parked back there but of course I couldn't. We were wearing gloves but still didn't want to pick them up. They were full of spunk for Christ's sake. Thank goodness we had those sticks with nails on the end of them. Married people didn't have to go to the movies to fuck. So they were people cheating on their spouses. Or they were kids. People our age. Maybe people we know.
The rubbers were spread out, showing where the cars had been parked. Once in a while there were two right next to each other, showing that the guy and girl had done it twice. I was starting to get hard. I counted them. Fourteen. I said to Jeff, "We're missing out."
"Tell me about it. I had no idea that many people were getting laid. I wonder who they are." "I dunno but you can bet I'm gonna pay attention from now on to who parks here. See if I recognize any of the cars." I jabbed one of the condoms with my stick, piercing it with the nail on the end of it, and put it in the bag slung over my shoulder.
"Careful, man! You're gonna get some guy's spooge on you."
While we finished picking up the lot we tried to decide, not who they guys were who got lucky the night before, but who the girls were who'd put out.
We finished just as Ol' Turkeyneck showed up. I don't know if anyone knowed Turkeyneck Fishbein's real first name. Maybe it really was Turkeyneck. It was hard to look him in the eye because it took all your concentration to stop looking at his giant Adam's apple that kept bobbing up and down like a yo-yo, going up and down his crazy long neck. He saw us dumping our canvas trash bags into the dumpster behind the concession stand. He cackled and said, "How many scumbags were there today? The other two boys got an even dozen yestidee."
Davey Carmichael and Patrick Owen worked on the days me and Jeff didn't. Instead of answering, Jeff said, "Do you pay attention to who parks back there?"
Turkeyneck cackled again. "I'm just paid to sell tickets. What I pay attention to and what I don't pay attention to is my business."
"Is Susan Malone one of them?" Jeff persisted.
Turkeyneck scowled at him. "If I told you that, then it would be your business, not mine. Chisholm pays me the same shit dollar an hour he pays you, and me a grown man with bills to pay. If the cheaters and the queers want to slip me something to make sure my business stays my business, then my business it shall stay. I keep the highschoolers' business to myself on the house." He winked at us. "So, if you two bring your little sluts here on your nights off, don't worry about them other boys learning it from me. But I expect they'll soon learn it from you, if you're anything like the other boys around town." He winked again.
I said, "You're full of shit, Turkeyneck. There ain't no queers in Hawthorn."
"Have it your way, Bobby. I'm full of shit then." He went off whistling to the ticket booth, to do traffic duty for the church goers.
I was going to ask Jeff if he thought Turkeyneck was pulling our leg but he was looking over toward Condom Alley, then back over the trees toward his house, then back to Condom Alley again.
Jeff Bob was fourteen and I was fifteen. Even though neither of us had a driver's license but both of us had been driving since we were twelve. I started on the family tractor then graduated to the pickup truck. I supposed he did the same thing, just like every other kid in Hawthorn. Hell, a driver's license was just a formality.
Even though it was summer and school was out, the Drive-in's busiest nights were still Friday and Saturday. Still it did a decent business Tuesday through Thursday. We tried to mosey over to Condom Alley to take a peek in the car windows but work kept us confined to the concession stand or else doing carhop duty. When cars turned their parking lights on, we had to run over and take their orders, get the food, and take it back to the car. It kept us running but we made tips that way, on top of the dollar an hour Mr. Chisholm paid us. Big surprise, the cars in Condom Alley never turned on their parking lights.
When we finally got a night off the plan was for me to drive the two of us to the movies for free. The Blob was playing and we both wanted to see it. But even more than I wanted to see the Blob I wanted to see who was putting out in Condom Alley. I just knew it was Susan Malone. And if it was, there was no reason why she shouldn't put out for me. Just as I made up my mind to call the Connor house to tell Bob I had a bellyache and couldn't go to the drive-in tonight, the phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Hey." It was Bob. We must have some kind of mental connection or something. "Listen, don't get mad but can we do the movies next time? My parents are all, 'we haven't seen you all week' and they want to do a family thing tonight. You know how Mama is."
"Yeah, sure. No problem."
"You can go without me, I guess."
"Like I'd leave you behind. Anyway, what kind of loser goes to a drive-in movie alone? What Turkeyneck pays attention to and what he don't pay attention to is his bidniz, but I don't need him paying attention to me having no life."
"Shit. I forgot about Turkeyneck," Bob muttered. "You think he meant it about people paying him to keep his business to himself? Maybe you could give him a buck to not tell anyone you went to the movies by yourself."
"Naw, The Blob is playing all week. Even when the new flick starts Wednesday, it'll still be the midnight show."
When it got dark, I took Dad's old Tasco up to the roof. I was right. With the telescope I could see the Drive-in screen even clearer from the roof than I could from the concession stand. The roof didn't have the speakers that the concession stand had so I couldn't hear anything, but I wasn't interested in the movie anyway.
I redirected the telescope to the parking area. There were still some kids playing on the monkey bars in Candyland. I re-aimed it toward Condom Alley. I saw a dozen cars. Some were parked along the fence. Others were parked between those cars and my house, blocking my view of them. But I had an unobstructed view of those five cars. It was like I was standing right next to them, peering through the windows.
Throught the windos of the first car I saw Mr. Cartwright from the bank, with Mrs. Eustace, the head teller. I moved on to the next one. I wasn't interested in those old farts. The next card didn't have Susan Malone but it was almost as good. I recognized Joe Hogan's car. He was a junior. Well, he two weeks ago he was a junior. He'd be a senior next fall. I could see throught the window as clear as, well, as clear as glass. He was with LeeAnn Ramey. They were already going at it and the movie had barely started. I felt like a total Peeping Tom pervert but I couldn't stop watching.
Five minutes later I was glad I'd kept peeping. They broke their lip lock long enough for LeeAnn to take off her blouse and for Joe to slip off his T-shirt. I thought bras only came in white but hers was pink. I had to adjust my dick which was suddenly a lot harder than it had been five minutes ago. Then Joe reached behind LeeAnn and unhooked her bra and threw it in the back seat. When I saw her tits I unzipped my fly and took my dick out.
They didn't waste any more time with making out. Joe was as horny as I was. If the telescope and I had been level with the car, then when Joe laid down on the car seat and LeeAnn started riding his cock all I would have seen was her tits bouncing up and down while she fucked him, which would have been plenty. But since I was on the roof of a two-story house, aiming the telescope down at them, I was able to see Joe's boner before it disappeared into her cooter. I'd never seen anyone fucking before and my cock had never been as hard as it was right now.
It was hard to keep my eye on the telescope and jack off without jiggling the telescope but it was even harder not to grab my dick. I really wanted to strip naked so I could play with my balls but I felt exposed out in the open like that. Someone would have to look up to see me, and the chances of that happening were slim, but slim isn't the same as zero and it was a full moon. Of course, there's not much difference between jacking off with your dick sticking out of your fly and jacking off buck naked, I guess. Still, I felt a tiny bit less exposed with my jeans on.
Goddam was I jealous of Joe Hogan. I hated to stop looking at LeeAnn's bouncing tits but for a few seconds I moved the Tasco a smidge so I could see Joe's face, the lucky bastard. I don't know why I thought he'd be smiling but he wasn't. His eyes were closed tight, almost scrunched up, like he was concentrating on a hard math problem. His forehead was sweaty which made sense. It was summer after all and the windows were rolled up. I supposed fucking is a sweaty activity even in the dead of winter, not that I know firsthand.
I was still looking at Joe's face so I was as surprised as he was when LeeAnn's hand slapped him. His eyes popped open and he said something. She slapped him again. I aimed the scope back up to her face but she didn't look mad. She just looked horny. I adjusted the scope so that it pulled back a little, showing both of them. She slapped him again but never stopped riding him. Goddam she's a kinky bitch. Then I swear before God she spit on his face! What the hell!
I can't believe good girls fuck like this. Nice girls just lay on their backs. They don't ride guys and slap and spit on them. Or fuck them in the drive-in, come to think of it. But dammit I don't want to wait till I'm married to fuck. I don't have time for nice girls. I guess if want to get laid I better get used to slaps and spit.
Joe isn't used to it though. He flipped LeeAnn over, which wasn't easy to do in the front seat of a 1952 Chevrolet Bel Air. I thought at first he was going to slap her back, but he didn't. He held her arms down and fucked like a man on a mission. I ignored her tits and focused on her cooter. Patrick Owen had swiped his old man's Playboy magazine once and we all looked at it behind the gym at school. I'd seen tits before but never seen a girl's cooter and now there it was, looking like it was close enough to touch. The only thing was, Joe's boner was in the way, sliding in and out of it.
I ain't gonna lie, Joe's dick was impressive. LeeAnn was gonna be sore tomorrow. Joe had a fat cock, and no mistake. He was really plowing her, too. Shoving that big monster in all the way, then pulling it all the way out before slamming it back into her. It's like he was doing it to punish her for spitting on him but I swear 'fore God she seemed to like it. I liked it too. I don't mean I liked Joe Hogan's dick. I ain't no queer, but I liked watching him fuck LeeAnn. I just wished I was the one fucking her.
I was jacking my cock and matching my strokes to match him slamming that big dick into her cooter, pretending it was me fucking her. I wanted to bust my nut the same time he did, but I couldn't. Watching it was just too damn hot. I growled and my spooge shot out onto the rooftop. I nearly lost my balance, I cummed so hard. The last thing I needed was for Mom to find me unconscious on the ground with both legs busted and my dick hanging out of my fly.
I scooped up the last bit of spooge from the head of my dick and flicked it onto the roof but didn't zip up. Instead, I aimed the Tasco at the next car in Condom Alley, ready to go again.
Bob
The Drive-in is closed on Monday and Tuesday and Davey and Patrick are working Wednesday night so me and Jeff borrowed my Granddaddy Spencer's jeep and drove up the mountain to camp in his cabin for three nights. Don't neither one of us have a license, but our parents don't care. Sheriff Parker knows we drive but he don't care as long as we stay off the highway. Hell, he don't have any right to complain anyway. Mrs. Parker has to drive him around in the patrol car on account of he has epilepsy and can't get a drivers license his own self.
I picked up Jeff and an hour later we unloaded our stuff at Granddaddy's cabin. There are six beds in the cabin but the mattresses and blankets have both been there since the cabin was built in eighteen hundred and something. Between the bedbugs and the smell only a fool would sleep in the beds. We always brought sleeping bags with us. We either put them on the big, braided rug in the living room or slept outside, depending on the weather.
I don't know what Jeff thought the best part of camping at Granddaddy's cabin was, but for me the best part was swimming at Walnut Creek. There was a big black walnut tree near the creek with a branch that stuck out over the water. A rope hung from a branch, perfect for swinging out over the water. But that's not why I liked swimming in the creek so much. It was just me and Jeff. We hadn't bothered with swimming suits since we were little kids. Of course, when we were little kids, it wasn't a big deal. It was all about the swimming. I supposed it's still all about the swimming for Jeff.
But for the last two years or so it's been a huge deal for me. And it's not all about the swimming. Sure, I like swinging out over the creek and dropping into the water as much as I ever did. I like racing from shore out to Mermaid's Rock and back again. But for me it's all about being able to see Jeff's pecker.
Ever since we first compared whispies, ever since I first learned to jack off, he's been it for me. I whistle at the girls with the rest of the guys, and I talk about whose tits are bigger and who I wanna fuck but every time I do, I'm lying my ass off. I know I'm going to hell for it but there ain't nothing I can do about it except go to hell. But before I do, I might as well take every opportunity to look at Jeff's pecker and nuts and ass and chest as I can.
I've learned to crank one out before we go swimming, otherwise I'd have a boner the whole time. As it is, I'm still a little thicker than usual. I got no idea in the world what two queers do together but the things I think about doing with Jeff, if there wasn't a hell already, God would have to make one, just for me.
I hate myself for being this way. And the truly tragic thing is, there is only one person in the world I can talk to about something this awful, and he's the one person in the world I don't dare talk to about it. How's that for a kick in the nuts?
"Hey, Bobbo? Where you at, man? You're a thousand miles away?"
"Sorry," I said.
"You been doing that a lot lately. Drifting away. Everything okay?" Jeff said.
The trail got steeper. I tried to keep going in third gear but had to downshift into second. "Sorry," I said again. "Mama says I'm at that age where the future keeps tugging at me. I guess that's it."
"Just don't let it tug you out of Hawthorne. I'm stuck here till I die and I'd hate to be here without you."
I wanted so badly to tell him that even when he's right next to me, I feel I'm stuck here without him, but that would end our friendship forever. Instead, I reached over and punched him in the shoulder. "You're stuck all right. Stuck with me forever." I wish.
The cabin came into view. This was our first trip to the cabin in nearly four months. Jeff said, "Remember last time? It was still so chilly last March we had to light a fire. I'm ready for some swimming!"
"Me too!" I said with feeling. Damn was I ready for some swimming.
Jeff
I never used to think I was shortchanged in the dick department. But I never had anything to compare my dick to, either. Before this week the only other dick I saw was Bob's, when we skinny dipped, and it's not like I paid any real attention to what was between his legs. Well, not since we started puberty and compared progress on things like pubes and whose balls dropped and shit like that.
When I saw that monster Joe Hogan shoved into LeeAnn I figured he was blessed with an above average cock and was just lucky. But when Bob swung out over the creek and I saw how thick his dick was, I had to look down at what I was packing. At least Joe was hard. Bob and I were both soft but even so, Bob's dick was thicker than mine. His looked like mine does after I bust a nut and it's getting over being a boner: no longer hard and sticking out but not one hundred percent deflated either. For the first time in my life, I felt self-conscious being naked in front of my best friend. Does he know I got a dinky dick? He must know. Why else would he keep glancing at it?
Anyone else would have made a comment or teased me about it, but he's my best friend and likes me too much. I'm tempted to grab my dick and give it a couple strokes just to give myself half a boner so I don't look like such a baby next to him.
We swam for an hour or so, laughing and cutting up, dunking each other and horsing around. We swam out to Mermaid's Rock and climbed up on it and just lay there letting the sun warm us. Everything was perfect. I almost told him about what I saw through the telescope. I was dying to share it, not just what I'd seen but wanting him to come up on the roof with me on our next night off so he could see, too. But I didn't want Bob to know I was a damn peeping tom. Plus, I knew that the next time I aimed the Tasco at the cars in Condom Alley I'd want to jack off again and how could I do that if he was up there with me?
Thinking about Joe fucking LeeAnn and imagining me fucking Susan Malone in the front seat of Mom's car, the worst possible thing happened. I got a damn boner while I was lying next to Bob. All I could do was pray that his eyes were closed, just like mine were. If I said the alphabet backwards maybe it would go away.
Next to me, Bob said, "I've known you my whole life. I thought I knew everything there was to know about you."
"You do," I said, swallowing.
"I do now. I didn't before."
"What are you talking about?"
"I never knew sunshine made you horny. And I never knew your boner was so fucking huge. Jesus Christ, Jeff!"
I put my arm over my eyes. I wanted to die. "God, I'm really sorry. I'm lying here naked and I started wondering what Susan Malone looked like naked, and . . . abracadabra." I finished lamely. Wait a sec. Did he say it was huge? He's the one with the thick dick. I opened my eyes and moved my arm but the sun was directly overhead and it made me squint. I turned my head to look over at Bob's dick and damned if he wasn't hard, too.
"Abracadabra," he grinned sheepishly. "Monkey see, monkey do, I guess." He was blushing so hard he looked like a Red Indian. I grinned back at him, but he was right. Thank God he was right. He might be thicker than me soft, but boned up, I was about six inches and he was barely five. The last thing I wanted to do was be hard next to another guy, even if it was my best friend, but I couldn't help feeling proud. I folded my arms and put my hands under my head and flexed my boner a couple times.
"Show off," he said.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw some telltale movement that made me think that while I would never jack off on the roof next to Bob, he wouldn't have any trouble jacking off on the roof next to me. "What are you doing?" I asked, even though I knew the answer.
"The only thing I know to make it go away." He sounded worried. "I'll stop if it bothers you. Or I can swim to shore and do it behind a tree. If you want."
"Just don't get any on me."
Bob
I'd been staring at his pecker for five minutes when out of nowhere he got a boner. I had no idea why God would answer my prayers like that when He'd ignored every other prayer I'd prayed the last two years. Jeff's boner was beautiful. He's got this little patch of brown pubic hair and one minute his dick was just laying there across his pubes and then all of a sudden it just filled up and grew into this big ol boner and was twitching. It was so hard his head peeked out of his foreskin. It took every bit of willpower I had not to reach over and grab it.
Naturally, my own dick played follow the leader. I'd already jacked off in the outhouse behind the cabin before we headed to Walnut Creek, just so I wouldn't pop a boner but nothing was stopping me from popping one now. I didn't know if I should pretend my eyes were closed, like Jeff's were, or if I should say something. I stared at it in silence for a minute before I spoke. Then when he saw that I was hard, too, I was embarrassed for half a second, but then I was super horny. I'd fantasized about something like this so many times when I played with myself.
I didn't dare try to make the fantasy come true. No way would I touch him or ask him to touch me. But I was leaking and he might see it. I grabbed my pecker and started jacking. "What are you doing?" he asked. When I told him that I'd finish behind a tree, I meant it. I would have if he'd said to. But I would have been staring at his beautiful boner the whole time, hoping he'd jack off too, if he was alone on Mermaid's Rock. I was almost disappointed when he told me to just not get any on him.
But only almost. I was jacking my hardon while I was next to Jeff, who also had a hardon. I couldn't touch him. I couldn't do any of the things I'd dreamed of doing to him. But I could watch him while he lay there with his hands under his head, showing off his boner, making it twitch for me. I knew I wouldn't last long. Every nerve ending in the head of my boner was super sensitive. I'd never been so hard. I tugged on my nuts with my left hand and accidentally bumped Jeff's right arm while I did. He didn't say anything. He didn't even scoot over. There was nothing sexual about my left elbow bumping his right arm but holy Jesus, it almost made me shoot.
"Who do you think about when you jack off?" Jeff whispered next to me. I had to think of a name. Susan was the first name that popped in my head, but I knew he liked her.
"LeeAnn Ramey," I said. His boner twitched again and another prayer was answered when he reached down and grabbed it.
"Do you think of fucking her?" he asked.
Hell if I know. "Yeah," He started jacking off. Oh my God oh my God oh my God.
"Who's on top? You or her?"
Can the girl be on top? Before I could answer Jeff said, "If she was on top, and riding your cock, would you let her slap you?"
"What?"
"Or spit on your face? Or in your mouth?" I pictured Jeff on top of me. I have no idea what queers do but I pictured Jeff on top of me, with my pecker going in and out of his ass while he leaned over me, a long stream of spittle connecting his mouth to mine.
"Oh fuck," I said.
"You like that kind of thing? You kinky bastard." His hand was flying up and down his boner. So was mine.
"What else does she do while she's on top of me?" I asked, knowing in my mind it was him and not LeeAnn.
"She likes your cock inside her. She rides it and pinches her tits"
Jeff, riding my pecker. Jeff, liking it inside his ass. Jeff pinching his tits while I fuck him. I'm done. I groan and my pecker explodes, shooting cum all over my belly. Jeff hears me and next to me he grunts and cum flies out of his dick, too, with more force than my orgasm, so hard it hits him in the face. Oh man, I wish it was my face his cum landed on. We both groan and grunt, each of our peckers spitting out our cum, some of it landing on Mermaid's Rock, but most of it landing on us.
When we're finally spent, we look at each other and grin, then laugh. Jeff says, "Jesus, I feel like we just tag teamed Lee Ann."
"You're the only one I'd share her with," I said.
He looked at our cum covered bellies and our peckers, still boned up. "You're my best friend, Bob. You are the only person in the world I would do this in front of."
I hated that he said "in front of" instead of "with" but it didn't change the fact, that for a few minutes at least, I had a peek at what happiness could look like. I might never see it again, but at least I got a glimpse of it. "You too," I said. We stood up and dived into the creek, rinsing the cum off of us, and swam to shore.
Chapter two is coming soon. I like hearing from readers and answer all emails. Feel free to write me at butters2020@protonmail.com
If you liked this story, you may like my other stories on Nifty:
Young friends:
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/maxs-bucket-list/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/the-boardwalk/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/the-three-musketeers/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/puppy-love
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/newsflash
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/being-dirty
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/nu-foo
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/the-cornfield/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/vitamin-j
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/making-white
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/tutoring-master-bates
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/the-elevator-feeling
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/middle-school-towel-boy
Adult Youth
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/college-credit
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/fairy-moans
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/petty-officer-pervert/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/the-drone
High School
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/the-food-court
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/spermaholics-anonymous
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/marty-gets-drunk
Incest
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/my-brother-is-queer
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/alexs-third-eye
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/connor-and-ethan/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/knot-as-it-seems
Camping
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/puppy-love
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/fairy-moans