It was actually a relief when we packed up the campsite and drove home. I was horny for Paul's and Will's cocks the whole time. I tried to sate my hunger at the bathroom at the campgrounds, but only got to suck cock one more time before we left, the same long skinny cock that I'd sucked before. I still didn't know who he was.
Mom remarked on my moodiness several times after Paul and Matt left, but each time I begged off saying that it was because Lana, my sister, wasn't with us this year. She only half accepted it and stopped commenting eventually.
I was dying to talk to Lana about everything that had happened during this year's camping trip. I didn't quite know how to tell her that I was addicted to cocks, but we didn't keep secrets from each other. Plus, she'd unhesitantly told me about her fling with Jessica, a girl she went to high school with. If she could tell me about her licking another girls pussy, I could tell her about me sucking dick and being fucked by a man.
Once we got home, I helped Dad set up the tents so he could wash them out, and put away the camping gear. As soon as everything was done, I snuck into the kitchen to call Paul.
He wasn't home, but I left a message on his answering machine. I felt a little like a teenage girl, hemming and hawing as I left the message. My dick, recovered from being rubbed raw on the trip, got hard in my pants just thinking about him...or rather, his dick. Or, rather, his dick in my mouth and my ass.
Life continued. Paul didn't call me back that day, or the next. I went back to the part-time job I'd had through my senior year of high school at the Mighty Burgerstack. It was difficult, actually...every time I'd take an order from a man, I'd wonder what he looked like naked, what his dick looked like. I soon discovered that I had a "type"...the older men (remember, I'm only 19, so we're talking 40's and 50's) seemed to make me daydream more than guys my age or a little older. Paul was probably late 40's, Matt was probably mid 50's, so I knew where my fascination came from.
After a week of not hearing back from Paul, I was starting to think that he wasn't interested in me anymore. No sooner than I had convinced myself of that, he walked into Burgerstack. His eyes lit up when he saw me.
"Will! I didn't know you worked here," he said, smiling.
I was a bit put out over not hearing from him, and it reflected in my voice. I MAY have been just a little bit snotty. "Yeah, for about a year."
Paul flinched at my tone.
"I tried to call you, left a message," I said softly, so nobody else could hear.
"I'm so sorry," he replied. "My answering machine is broken. It'll take messages, but I can't get it to play them back. I keep meaning to buy a new one, but I've been so busy with the summer semester that I haven't had the chance. It never even occurred to me to get YOUR number at the campgrounds."
Hope flared up in me. Maybe he wasn't ignoring me after all.
"I'm glad to hear you say that," I said, smiling. "Honestly, I was afraid you'd lost interest in me."
Paul gave me a big smile. "FAR from that. I just didn't realize that you'd left a message on my broken machine. I was thinking that maybe you'd changed your mind about things."
I took his order. When his receipt printed out, I turned it over and wrote my home number on the back. He took his food and the receipt, and winked at me.
"I'll be busy the next few days with work," he said, "but I'll be free this weekend. Maybe you can come by?"
I smiled back at him, then watched him walk off. It was difficult to get back into the mindset of work after that.
My interaction with Paul didn't go unnoticed, unfortunately. Amanda Jenkins, who also was a recent graduate from our high school and worked at Mighty Burgerstack with me, had noticed. She cornered me later when I took a break.
"Dude, did you give that guy your number?" she asked, astonishment in her voice.
I was taken aback, and more than a little shocked. "Uh...what?" I stammered.
"That guy you were flirting with," she continued. "Did you give him your number? Are you gay?"
"Gay? No! And I wasn't flirting with anyone!" I protested.
She gave me a look. "I know how to flirt, and I KNOW what flirting looks like. YOU were flirting with him. And you gave him your number. Exactly what I would do if I was flirting with a guy."
"No, uh, he's a professor at Huntington. I met him recently and he said he could fill me in on college life," I said quickly.