Legal stuff: You ain't old enough, don't read it. You ain't mature enough, still don't read it. You lookin' for a quick wank, look elsewhere. There WILL be sex in this story, and it WILL be graphic, but it'll come with time, so bear with me.
Given to Nifty for archive; if anyone else wants to post this somewhere, ask first thanks. Email is mymouthtrain@gmail.com.
Wish I'd Taken Pictures | 03
"Woah, dude," I said, holding my hands up and jerking back about half a foot. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Lemme borrow some clothes." I swear he had a glint in his eyes that I had only previously seen on a female. "I'll go take a shower, then we can go look at my car in actual daylight, I'll probably kick it some, then I can take you out for dinner to say thanks for everything you've done. Sound like a plan?" As he spoke, he sauntered toward and into my bathroom. The last half of his plan was yelled, somewhat muffled, through the door.
Not like I could argue with the man's plan. Too disoriented from the sudden strip show, I shook my head and got up, not really knowing what I was doing. I got out some clothes for him like an automaton, and after I set them in a neatly folded pile on my bed, I shouted to him through the door where they would be and sat back down on the couch. I carefully did not look up when I heard the door open because I didn't think I, or my confused libido, could handle another eyeful of naked Andrew.
God, he was beautiful in ways no woman had ever appeared to me. I couldn't get over how he could look so enticing without any tits on him. I had always fancied myself a boob man, and here I was thinking things I really shouldn't have been about a completely titless GUY.
It also helps that Andrew possessed probably the nicest ass I have ever seen, guy or girl. He could definitely turn me into an ass man.
I spent my time waiting for him trying to pick at my cuticles. After getting a look at Andrew's pretty, short and clean nails, mine looked disgusting in comparison. Everything about myself suddenly seemed to fall far short when I compared them to Andrew. It made me feel stupid.
"Okay, I'm ready," Andrew said with a cheery lilt to his voice as he came back into the living room. I looked up-and laughed.
"What?"
"You look ridiculous!" And he did. I had laid out what I considered my tightest pair of jeans and an old shirt that stretched across my chest when I wore it. They swallowed Andrew whole, no kidding. He looked like he was about five years old.
"Do not." The pout he gave me did not help his case any.
I bit my lip in order to stifle my laughter, and shook my head as I got up. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't laugh. You look too cute, though, man."
"Cute?" He sounded scandalized. "Moi? Cute? I don't know if I should say thank you or punch you in the face for that one." The smile on his face gave me an idea which way he was going to go on that one.
"Whatever, man," I said, waving it off. "Let's go look at your car while we still can."
--
He drove an old Honda Prelude, dark green, probably from the eighties. It was hard to believe the damn thing still ran. It appeared to me as if Andrew had to offer himself up to some unknown pagan god just to get the hood to pop. I wondered what I would have to do to get it to start again.
Once I was under the hood and had Andrew try to start it, the problem became obvious.
"Dude, when was the last time you had this car serviced?"
"Serviced?"
Oh God, that tone of voice was a bad omen. I looked at him from around the hood. "Yeah, you know, oil changed, fluids checked... that sort of thing?"
"Um..." Andrew flushed, his white cheeks tingeing a splotchy red. I sighed and shut the hood.
"Dude, your car's fucked."
"Fuck, really?"
I wiped my hands on a rag I had gotten out of my own trunk. "Frankly, I'm surprised it ran this long."
"Shit," Andrew said, long and slow, banging his head against the headrest. "I don't have the money for another car. I can barely pay the rent with what I make here."
"Maybe you should consider getting a roommate, then," I suggested, not even considering my words.
He looked at me for a long time, his expression unreadable. "Maybe, man," he said after a moment, then got out of the car. "Hey, car working or not, I still promised you dinner. Ready for that Big Mac?"
I grinned. "You bet."
He answered my smile with a wide one of his own. "You're a cheap date, you know that?"
I chuckled. "Definitely not high maintenance. I might even put out," I joked. At least, I thought that was what we were doing. I didn't mind one bit; teasing Andrew just came natural to me.
Andrew's eyebrows wiggled. "Ooh, baby."
I laughed, full-throated. "Come on."
--
Apparently, wherever Andrew goes, he knows somebody. That wouldn't normally be worth mentioning, except he knows the ODDEST people.
Walking into McDonald's, my attention was immediately captured by the very cute counter girl. Long, tumbling blonde hair that fell over one shoulder like a wavy, flaxen waterfall. Expertly applied makeup, if a little heavy, and bedroom eyes like I'd never seen before. The figure was dynamite, and I was once again a boob man. I wanted to scoop her up into my arms and sit her on my (in my fantasy, naked) lap. She was perfect.
Andrew walked up to her like he'd known her all his life. "What's up, Jamie?" he asked casually, looking back at me in amusement. I suppose he had caught my staring.
So had Jamie, the counter girl, apparently. She gave me a very friendly smile, looking me up and down coyly, before replying in a very low, very masculine voice, "Hey, Drew. Who's the tall glass of water YOU'RE hanging around with?"
|to be continued| |thanks for the emails!|