MAYBE THIS TIME Read online

  “I don’t know what a twink is. I was talking about the Hostess cake. I just shot my cream into my host and I thought it felt wonderful. So wonderful I just want to hold you and kiss you and be close to you.” He pulled Eugene’s chest tight against his, and squishy sperm be damned, he wanted to hold them together and kiss some more. As his cock finally softened and popped out, their bodies meshed and Eugene was rubbing his so smoothly shaved cheek against Dillon’s stubbly one and he felt so contented. With arms entangled, they finally succumbed to sleep – Eugene on his back and Dillon on his stomach so close together.

  Dillon was the first to waken and he had his morning piss hard-on. He gently tried to disengage himself from Eugene’s arms and go to the bathroom to piss it away. He was unsuccessful. “Sorry, I was trying not to wake you. I’ll be right back. Just gotta go pee.”

  “It’s okay. I’d rather be awake in bed with you than asleep. I might as well get up too. I want to kiss you, but I’d have to gargle first. My morning breath ain’t too pleasant.” Together they went to the bathroom, did what they had to, and Eugene easily coaxed Dillon back to bed. It was a Saturday morning with nothing pressing for either. “How hard you think I got to work to get another load out of you?”

  “I don’t know. I know I jerk off once a day, but I think I pumped a lot into you last night. It felt awesome and that’s a word I don’t use very often. Actually being with you is really awesome. I mean it.” Dillon rolled on top of Eugene and began kissing him. Blood started surging back into his dick and it was soon harder than before, but this time primed for sex and not pissing. As he orally pleased Eugene’s head and neck, he automatically started thrusting his dick against Eugene’s. He slid his body lower to attack Eugene’s chest and Eugene’s hard cock was trapped against his abdomen while his was thrusting against Eugene’s leg. He slid lower and his dick was against Eugene’s calf and Eugene’s was against his chest as he licked all over Eugene’s lower abdomen. He licked down the abdomen to the thigh. He pushed the cock aside and tried to give a hickey right where the thigh and torso met. He had no idea why. He just wanted to. His tongue grazed the ball-filled wrinkled scrotum. He had not intended to do it, but it had happened. Eugene had worshipped his the night before and the preceding Tuesday and it hadn’t killed Eugene at all. He licked it some more. Then he went to the top of the other thigh to lick and suck and kiss with the hard prick and balls right there next to his face.

  “What the hell!” he thought to himself. “If Eugene could do it and like it, and Larry said he liked being with men on occasion, and since I loved the feel of a mouth on my dick when some of the chicks would do it, it can’t be that bad.” He wrapped his fingers around the base of the erection and started licking up and down the length.

  “Stop!” Eugene said. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Be quiet and enjoy. I want to try this. I like how it feels when someone does it to me. Let me return the sensation. Then he licked the head and found a completely different texture. He stuck the whole head in his mouth and sucked on it. Then some of the shaft as well.

  “Whoa! If you’re going to do it, cover your teeth with your lips. Otherwise, you’ll scrap the hell out of the skin and that hurts.” Dillon listened. He was able to ingest about four inches. Each time he tried for more, he gagged. Eugene got Dillon to switch around to a sixty-nine position and now he was able to suck more of the shaft while Eugene swallowed all of him. With stroking and sucking, Eugene brought Dillon to climax and tasted every drop he could coax out of those balls.

  “Better stop and just jerk me. I’m almost there.” Dillon obeyed and began stroking the meat, but when Eugene was ready to erupt, Dillon put his mouth over the tip and tasted another man’s cum for the first time.

  “There. I am part of you. You are now part of me.”

  Eugene sat upright and pulled Dillon close and kissed him, his tongue searching vainly for any remnants. They lay back down face to face. “So tell me about Baltimore.”

  “Not much to say, really. I had the interview, they liked me, they offered me a position, and I turned it down. I definitely did not like the town. Don’t think of me as prejudiced or anything. I had lots of black friends in college, but Baltimore is two-thirds black and a lot of them really scared me – really tough – thug-looking – you know, with hoodies and sagging pants and they looked angry, not cool. Just didn’t feel comfortable at all. Black mayor, black police chief, black superintendent of schools. All that seemed very professional but they had riots there. And all the empty buildings I saw. Imagined quite a few of them were crack houses. And so much litter. Seemed people didn’t take pride in their town. I just didn’t think I could be safe living there.”

  “So what are you going to do now?”

  “Going back to Maine and start all over again.”

  “I’m going to be selfish. Why don’t you stay here a few days and see what’s available? I’d love the company as well as your cock fucking me.”

  “No, I don’t think so. I should be getting home. Called home and told them I was leaving Baltimore. They’ll be expecting me.”

  “That really sucks! You say I’m a part of you and now you want to leave. Is it because of what we just did together?”

  “Oh god, no. I have no qualms about that. Having sex with you was fantastic. I knew I wanted more with you the whole time I was in Baltimore. Every time I thought of your lips around me in the shower, I immediately started to get hard. I never touched another guy before you, I never let another guy suck me, and I definitely never had another guy’s cock in my mouth before. Probably never will again either, but I liked it because it was you. You really are someone special and I wanted to please you as you pleased me.”

  “Well, how about pleasing me just a little more. Stay the day and go home tomorrow. I want to feel that cock fucking my ass one more time, so I can have a memory that will last a lifetime. Because there is something really special about you, too.”

  Chapter Three

  After breakfast and more discussion, Dillon agreed to stay until Sunday. He just called home and said he decided to visit a friend from college for a day or two. They spent the day washing Eugene’s car at a back road pull-off next to Dyson’s Creek, a small stream that twenty other guys were also using to wash and wax their vehicles. Years earlier people had taken rocks and built a small dam on the creek a quarter mile upstream, making a six-foot-deep swimming hole. Dillon and Eugene, along with many other car washers and other young guys who had come on bikes, took advantage of it. Dillon noticed that occasionally barefooted guys would leave the far side of the stream and follow a path up the mountainside into the woods. Finally he commented on it. “What’s in the woods? I see guys leave for a while and then come back, take a quick dip and head to their car or bike and leave.”

  “Some guys aren’t like me. They don’t have a bedroom they can share.”

  “You mean…”

  “Yes, guys disappear into the woods to get or give a blowjob.”

  “But some of them seem so young – barely high school students.”

  “Yeah and they found something better than just jerking off.”

  “What about you? How’d you discover you liked sex with guys?”

  “I didn’t discover it. I always knew I was attracted to guys. I had a crush on my neighbor’s husband. I knew I wanted to be with him, have him wrap his arms around me and kiss me. I guess I was nine or ten. That was long before I even hit puberty or had sexual thoughts. I was in eighth grade and still thought my dick was only for pissing through, although hair was sprouting down there. One day William Henry Parker – he was a sophomore who lived a few houses away from mine – asked me to come help him rearrange his bedroom furniture. I did. When we were done, he put on some Barbra Streisand and started lip synching it. Said he wanted to perform it for the school talent show. Asked me what I thought of it. I said it was good but wondered why he wasn’t using a male singer. Said he liked dressing up as a girl. He p
ulled out a dress and a wig. Well, we started clowning around doing other female singers. We didn’t do anything in the talent show that year, but he found a video of Judy Garland and her daughter Liza doing a medley of Let me Entertain You and Two Lost Sheep. We rehearsed it and rehearsed it and performed it magnificently the next year when I was a freshman and he was a junior. That was when I first learned I liked doing drag to entertain people. And somewhere during all those rehearsals we ended up in bed together. For the first time I had a man’s arms around me, and then his lips around my cock, and his cock was shooting off down my throat. It was during the summer between my sophomore and junior year that I learned I liked a cock fucking my ass even more than plowing my mouth. I don’t remember who it was but it was in the back seat of his van in the mall parking lot. Met him in the arcade. He was playing pinball and I thought he was so hot wearing a Syracuse sweatshirt and ripped jeans, I actually asked him if he’d like a blowjob. Well, I don’t know if he thought he was punishing a fag or what, because I no sooner had him hard than he pinned me down, had my feet in the air, spit on my hole, and shoved his dick right in. He seemed surprised I wasn’t screaming or begging him to stop. I told him I liked it. Then he became gentle and rode me good. I looked for him every time I went to the mall, but only saw him that one time. And that’s the story of me.”

  “I think I wish someone had been like that with me. Who’s going to believe my story? I got drunk winning a t-shirt and a Good Samaritan took me home. The only thing we have in common is that we both liked our initial experience.”

  “Well, want to get out of here. My fingers are getting all wrinkly.”

  “You suggesting we go into the woods?”

  “No, I was thinking of going back home. I start making us a little dinner, we watch some television, eat, and then meet Larry at Fever Forever. He did invite us if you stayed over. Besides, knowing him, he’ll want to know how our night went. I’ll let you handle that. You can tell him as much as you want.”

  “Sounds good. We going to sit on your car seats in these wet shorts?”

  “Hell no! I got cloth seats. We peel them off and drive back buck-ass naked. Only a trucker will get to see our dicks. I can pull into the garage and none of the neighbors will even get to see your endowment. If they did, half of them would probably divorce their husbands to get a chance to enjoy what you got. And for tonight, that meat is all mine. You promised.”

  “That I did.”

  They stripped and climbed into the car and headed home. Any trucker looking down on them would have seen two hands slow-stroking erect cocks. Any spying neighbor would have seen Eugene giving head in his garage.

  “You’d better stop, or there won’t be anything for you tonight.”

  “Oh, all right,” Eugene jokingly complained. “Besides, I expect you to fuck me tonight in several male dominant positions. Last night I was in charge. Tonight, you’ll be driving this cock into me in so many different ways. I’m going to wear you out. By the time you shoot, you’ll be so exhausted you won’t want to get out of bed until Tuesday.”

  “That a promise?”

  “That’s a promise.”

  “Good. Sounds like a fun night. Maybe we should stay home and start right away.”

  “No, I want to hear if you can sing.”

  “Oh sweet mystery of life I found you!” Dillon sang in a terrible falsetto voice.

  “What’s that?”

  “From Young Frankenstein. When she gets fucked by the monster.”

  “Are you saying you want to get fucked?”

  “No, it’s what I want to hear you singing tonight.”

  “I know one position where that could quite possibly happen. That was said just to pique your curiosity and anticipation. Think ropes and candles and kink.”

  “Now you’re scaring me.”

  “Trust me. It’ll be fun. Come on. Let’s get in the house. I got a dinner I’ve got to prepare for you. You like stuffed peppers?”

  “Depends what you stuff them with.”

  “Ground beef, rice, some spices. Some mushrooms if I got them, some minced onion and celery.”

  “Sounds good. Need me to do the onions and celery? My mom taught me knife skills, better than some of the amateur chefs on the Food Network game shows.”

  “Let’s do it. Celery is in the bottom left bin of the refrigerator, onions in the red net bag hanging in the closet. Chopping block is bottom left cupboard under the sink. Pick the knife you want. Holder is on the countertop over there.” Eugene left Dillon to his task as he rounded up the beef, rice, and other spices he always used. He lopped off the top of the peppers and deseeded them. Eugene preheated the oven, opened a can of diced tomatoes, and spread them in a square cake pan. He carefully positioned the peppers on top of the tomato pieces. Together they stuffed them, shoved them in the oven, and sat down to watch a baseball game on the television. They discovered they were both avid fans and the Yankees were hosting Boston, so they were quickly rooting for their home teams and ribbing each other as they sprawled out on the sofa to watch the game and then eat dinner. Losing 5-4 in eleven innings, Eugene graciously conceded defeat as they ate some left-over chocolate cake for dessert.

  “I guess it’s time to go throw on some clothes, even though I would be happy to just lie here with you and suck that gorgeous cock – get it all stiff and anxious to blast off. But we sort of promised Larry.”

  “That we did. What kind of attire for Fever Forever?”

  “Whatever you want. College preppy to sleaze. Wear what you feel comfortable in. Everyone does. For me – blue jeans, a pull-over, and sandals.”

  “Jeans, pull-over, and sockless loafers, I guess.”

  “That’ll work.”

  Fever Forever was a rather small establishment with an L-shaped bar running along one wall with eighteen stools. Anchored against the opposite wall was a thrust stage, usually used by bands with a dance floor in front of it. There were several small tables scattered to the left and right of it. Tonight the karaoke host had two microphone stands set up on the stage. For just a buck, the singers could pick the song they wanted from the TouchTunes jukebox and the words would appear on the four television screens scattered around the room.

  The first thing Dillon noticed when they entered was the cleanliness of the place. No dust, waxed shiny oak floors, bartenders attired in black pants, white shirts and bowties, streak-free mirrors, and once they ordered, he was sipping the coldest draft beer that had ever crossed his lips. Eugene selected one of the tables since Larry, and eventually Mary, would be joining them. Besides, there weren’t two adjacent seats available at the bar. Two girls stopped at the table shortly after they had sat down to tell Eugene how much they enjoyed his performances the night before.

  “Aren’t you the guy Gia pulled to the floor last night?” one of them asked Dillon.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, you’d better be good to him. Gia is a damn good man.”

  Dillon was thinking how different the attitudes were here. Larry was right – no one really seemed to care who was sleeping with whom. Then he overheard two guys who just sat down at the table next to them. “Jesus Christ, looks like it’s going to be fag night here. They’ll fucking hog the microphone singing that Broadway shit. How the hell am I supposed to impress a chick singing Garth Brooks or Clint Black, or Tim McGraw? They’ll even ABBA and Lady Gaga us to death in between singers.”

  “Oh, be quiet,” said the other. “Listen to whose song is playing now. It’s Dolly Parton.”

  “Yes, but it’s Hard Candy Christmas. It’s from a Broadway show.”

  “And you know that how?”

  “My gay cousin and his boyfriend.”

  “So you’re not upset that gay guys are here, just that they like to perform more than you do.”

  “No, it’s that I can’t compete with them, and I don’t like Broadway music.”

  “Right. For you, the only music is country.”

  “Fuckin’
A.”

  “Funny. I’ve noticed the best singers here seem to go for vocals like Sinatra, Michael Bublé, Marvin Gaye, Barry White, Louis Armstrong, and Nat King Cole.”

  “Yeah? You just watch. Tonight we’ll be inundated with Gypsy, Cabaret, Godspell. Ten to one! I’ll bet in the first half hour we hear If I Loved You or I Don’t Know How to Love Him.”

  “Sometimes I just don’t believe you!”

  Larry arrived and joined Dillon and Eugene at the table.

  “Just look at that! Now there are three of them! Probably getting their dollars out already and making a list of what they want to sing!”

  Eugene laughed as he filled Larry in on the overheard conversation.

  “Well, that does it,” Larry said as he pulled out his wallet. “First song I sing is Paradise by the Dashboard Light and then I think Hot Patootie or Two out of Three.”

  “I think I can successfully do George Thorogood’s I Drink Alone,” Eugene added.

  Larry commented, “I think you should perform his Bad to the Bone. Not that I personally know how good your boner is.”

  Dillon chimed in, “It’s good. I tried it. It’s real good. Now as to music, I doubt they have one of my favorites. It’s a song called Stewball by Peter, Paul, and Mary. It’s an old 60’s folk song. That group’s music was always playing whenever I visited my grandmother, and my mother drilled Manilow songs into my head growing up. Wonder if that’s too gay for them.”

  “That’s a toss-up. Everyone knows he is, but his songs don’t indicate it and he’s not exactly Broadway.”

  “All I want is the last song. I want to do Cabaret and use the Lester/Chester bit live instead of lip synching it.”

  “You are too much,” Larry said. “Just make sure you use Liza’s arm-cranking gesture on ‘And when I go, I’m going like Lester’.”

  “Got it!”

  “Now I need another beer. Be right back with one for everyone.” Eugene headed to the bar.

  “You sucked him or he fucked you?”

  “The first. He swallowed my load and I swallowed his. Tasted better than mine.”