This is Part 3 to the fun romp with Alexander
All previous admonitions on age, legality safety & restrictions apply
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Knights in White Satin
I finally sat up, blinking. The Red Necks were chasing down Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper and I was a cocksucker.
I sought Alexander's lips with mine and he kissed me gently, our tongues meeting and sharing the residue of him that lingered on my teeth. I took a sip of wine from his cup. Mine was knocked over on the floor.
"Do you want me to do you?" he asked with a smile. I reached over and felt my aching cock. The fabric of my slacks was slick with pre-cum I had been leaking while I suckled on him.
His touch was electric. "I'll come in a second," I said. I felt very strange. I thought that once I came I would be overcome with the significance of the moment, the strange new reality I had gobbled myself into.
I had the otherworldly feeling that I was not Bob, suburban teen anymore. I had walked through a door I had always known was there, but now I was on the other side. I was a queer cocksucker. I was still weak with desire and I did not want that to change. I wanted his lips on me, and I wanted more. I wanted him to make me completely his, complete the transformation.
"I want more, Alexander. I want to fuck."
"Well, we could try it here, but we will be the only ones left in the Drive-in."
"We have the rest of the summer," I said with wonder.
"Yes we do." I liked the sound of the "we." I was part of something with him. "but we will have to find a place to hang out with some privacy." He was very practical.
"I think I have one. My folks have a cabin in Michigan. It is on a little lake. I bet we can get there."
"Sounds good to me. I'd like that a lot." The credits were rolling on the film and brake lights were coming on from the cars clustered in the middle of the parking area.
"So I guess I'll run you home and see you tomorrow at the mall." He leaned over and kissed me. "I want to sleep with you, Bob. We need to do that. Soon."
"Me too" I said. I untangled myself and popped the trunk-lid with the little handle under the dash-board. I put the speaker back on the post with the spiral cord hanging down. I got out and put the bottle of wine in an old cardboard box I kept there to keep it from rolling around. I was still hard and I would have to avoid talking to my parents when I got in and not let them see the stains on my pants. I got back in and closed the door.
He smiled at me in the bright glow of the arclights that said the show was over. He touched my thigh, caressing it. I knew this show wasn't over. It was only beginning.
I drove back up 32nd street past the Mall and another couple miles to the in-close suburb where the black community was clustered. The trees were full and the bungalows were old but well-kept. There was no ghetto in this town, except possibly the mental one that keeps us all imprisoned in our boxes. I was still grappling with being outside of my box, a little giddy at the prospect of having made a small logical step and seeing where would take me.
"It is this one up here, on the left." I pulled across the oncoming lane and stopped at the curb in front. A single light burned downstairs behind a substantial porch. I was glad there was no one rocking on the chair there to greet us.
"I'd like to ask you in," said Alexander earnestly. "But it is late."
"Do you mean that?" I asked. "Are you saying you want to be public?" the thought was a revelation.
"Public about what? We are just friends and you are showing me the ropes. What else would anyone think? And who cares anyway?"
I was quiet, wondering about having Alexander meet my parents.
"Just relax, Bob. All you did was natural. Pure nature." He leaned over and kissed me again, quickly, and was gone into the house. I gunned the engine a little, let out the clutch and drove home where the houses were more modern and the lawns a little larger.
There was no one awake to greet me except the dog, and she though she sniffed me with a quizzical nose, she was not that interested.
When I got into bed I thought of Alexander's cock in my mouth and I had no more to do than touch myself and I came in great wave of semen that pooled on my belly, filling up my navel and running off to the side. I scooped it up and licked it off my fingers, marveling in the difference in taste between us.
I slept and when the light was coming up and after the folks were stirred and cars started to take them to their jobs, I drifted off again. You know what I dreamt. A night spent on white satin, with caramel skin against mine.
August is a Month of Dreams
Being a practicing homo turned out to be a lot more natural than I would have expected.