Grady showed up a little after breakfast, his fishing pole and tackle box in hand. Together we checked out the little fishing cabin and determined it would make for an excellent hook-up spot. I made a mental note to put some clean sheets on the bunk beds and give the place a good cleaning.
Again, we exchanged blow jobs. This time, I learned to stimulate the nut sack, orally and manually, and how to avoid bringing Grady to climax too soon, while continuing to bring him pleasure. When Grady did it to me, he had me begging for him to bring me to orgasm. We spent the rest of the day fishing and bullshitting. I caught three perch, he caught five.
To Grandma's disappointment, I skipped church on Sunday. I especially wanted to skip Sunday School and the Youth Group meeting. I'd already stopped going to meet with the Born Agains after lunch, hoping Tyler might notice. If he did, he didn't mention it. I thought I might need to make better use of my time by working on my truck.
I got the white and teal 1964 Ford F-100 Pickup for a steal at just two hundred bucks. The problem was it didn't work. Two years of taking Auto as an elective paid off. I started rebuilding the engine last year, working on it in my spare time. It looked like a rusty death trap, but when I was finished with her, she would purr like a kitten.
Grady dropped by a of couple hours after I'd lunched on Grandma's typical Sunday roast with stewed potatoes and carrots, my favorite.
"I noticed you weren't in church today," he commented as he joined me at the hood of my truck, "How did you manage that?" Grandma may be liberal in her thinking, but she was a hardcore believer in going to church and saying your prayers.
"It was a one day reprieve. I told Grandma that riding on your motorbike made me realize how much I needed to get my truck up and running, and today was my only free day before the school week started again."
"Oh, so you used me?" Grady huffed, acting like I hurt his feelings.
"Yeah, and I plan on using you again just as soon as I get this bastard started." I gave him a wink, which brought another of his crooked smiles to his lips. God, how I loved the way he smiled. "Not that my story convinced Grandma. She reminded me that I could have done this yesterday, instead of fishing with you. I had to beg her, promising it was only this one Sunday, then reminded her that 'the sabbath was made for man, not man for the sabbath'. That finally got her to concede. Who knew that memorizing Bible verses would actually come in handy?" Grady cracked up with laughter.
"Oh, man, you're going to burn in Hell for sure." He watched me quietly for a moment. "Is there anything I can do to help?" Clearly, my straight buddy didn't know anything about auto repair.
"Yeah, actually you can. Go get behind the wheel and turn over the engine when I give you the word."
Grady disappeared behind the open hood, patting my ass softly as he passed behind me. With a few more turns of my ratchet wrench, I was about as ready as I was likely to be.
"Okay, give her a try," I called to him.
The engine whined at first, but then roared to life. I let it idle for a moment, listening. The engine had a steady rhythm, satisfying me that my hard work wasn't entirely in vain. I closed the hood and moved toward Grady, who was standing just outside the driver's door.
