A sequel to Beach Trips & Road Head
After an hour or so of awkward silence interspersed with glances I couldn't quite read, Chad finally turned on the radio. Sounds of classic rock filled the moving car, making it slightly less awkward. I toyed with my empty Dr Pepper bottle, wishing I had another.
I didn't want to stop again, having lost 40 minutes to our unexpected fuck, but I drink (non-alcoholic beverages, obviously) non-stop on car trips. I had packed a few sodas and waters in a cooler early that morning but they were in the other vehicle. I was not only in need of liquid refreshment but I also really wanted to get out of the car for a few moments. I couldn't read Chad's thoughts and I worried that fucking around with me had him angry or scared and neither emotion seemed safe in such a close environment.
There was a Wawa up ahead that we often stopped at as a midway break on our beach trips. I figured Brenda and the gang had already stopped but it was a chance to grab a drink, maybe clean off my nether regions with something a little better than a couple of dry McDonald's napkin I found in my glove box, as well as give Chad and I some space. Maybe a few moments apart would reboot us back to uneasy acquaintances instead of fresh-from-fucking strangers.
"I'm gonna stop for a drink, if that's ok," I said.
The words were the first thing I'd spoken since Chad's load had glazed my face. It felt weird. Why did it feel weird? I'd had one night stands before. Of course, usually hints were made that lead me to be back in my own bed before the time the semen had dried and this time I was trapped in a car. Plus, Chad was straight. That had to be the difference. Right?
***
Chad's mind was racing almost as fast as the car Andy was driving. He'd always talked a good game, but in reality but didn't have that many notches in his belt and never seemed to get into an actual relationship.
He didn't know what that meant. He'd never taken the time to suss out the reasons why he'd never had a long term relationship or why sex seemed to change the dynamics. Having sex was something he thought about a lot more frequently than he actually managed to perform the act. Most one night stands lasted about 5 minutes of foreplay and 2 minutes of penetration, so he figured he might be a lousy lay.
But Andy seemed to be more into it than any chick he'd managed to bang. Maybe it was the beer he had for breakfast, but he was almost always a little tipsy when getting down.
He thought about Tiffany. Her ass was so perfect, small and round, and he'd been entranced by it for weeks after she started working at his gym. One of the trainers told him she thought he was cute when he worked out and she liked that he wasn't a muscle head, just trying to get fit.
He'd asked her out, they went on a few dates and he started think about using the "girlfriend" label.
On the third date, she let him come up to her place. They got hot and heavy on the couch but he came before they went all the way. She seemed slightly annoyed but said she had to get up early anyway so he should head home.
After one more date, with no return to the bedroom, she'd texted and said she'd found another job. After that, none of his texts were returned. Calls went straight to voicemail. He'd been ghosted.
But with Andy, it was electric. Andy dove into his pits, his chest, his crotch without hesitation. There was no need to persuade him to go down, he lead the charge straight into dick sucking. And man, it was so much better than any of the blow jobs he'd gotten before. Those girls used too much saliva and seemed to tire after less than a minute. They also made such whiny moans while they did it, like imitating porn stars instead of really feeling it.
He was comparing and contrasting the feeling of guys versus girls in the dick sucking arena when Andy's question broke his reverie.
"Sure, yeah. I could use a drink as well," Chad replied.
Both gentlemen walked into the convenience store and headed straight for the restroom. Chad motioned for Andy to use it first.
"I'll grab some drinks a while. You want another Dr Pepper?"
"Yeah, thanks. And a water," Andy said, reaching to pull out his wallet.
"Don't worry, bro. You're driving, I can pay for drinks."
Chad walked to cooler and selected two waters and the Dr Pepper. He passed the rows of snacks and wondered what Andy liked. Picking up something salty and something sweet to cover all his bases, he was walking towards the counter when the magazine rack caught his eye. He saw a Playgirl, a magazine he'd never looked at before.
I wonder if Andy would like it,
he thought.
Gay guys read Playgirl, right? That's dumb, Chad. If he wanted one, he'd have a subscription already. But who subscribes to magazines anymore?
His grip on the three bottles was loosening so he made a quick decision. Grabbing the magazine, he went to the counter and checked out.
The girl behind the counter didn't even glance up as she bagged the Playgirl with the chips and candy bars. Chad glanced over and saw Andy strolling out of the restroom. Suddenly feeling sheepish, he hid the one bag behind his back and handed the one containing the drinks over before rushing to the restroom.
Slipping into a stall to pee and hide for a second. He didn't realize the restroom wasn't a one-holer. Andy probably thought I'm avoiding him. Won't go into the restroom with me, won't take my money, hiding bags from him.
Chad sat on the toilet and realized he really had to pee. Hanging the bag on a hook, he slid his pants down and let the stream flow. While he was sitting, he saw the Playgirl cover through the thin plastic bag.
What an idiot. What would possess me to buy a nudie rag for a guy I just met this morning? Just because he sucked my dick doesn't mean he wants to be best buds. Tiffany quit her job to avoid me after we had sex. Andy will probably make me squeeze into the other car for the trip back.
Chad put his head in his hands.
Why do I even care? I got off, that should be enough.
***
I leaned against the car for a few minutes. How long does it take to pee? Good lord, Chad will be the death of me yet. And not death by choking on his dick, either. That would be a way to go, not driven crazy by straight boys being late.
Opening the car door, I set the bag of drinks on the seat. I walked back in and headed for the restroom. So what if Chad didn't want to be in the same restroom as me? I wanted to get back on the road.
A weird groan came from one of the stalls, the only one with a closed door. Chad. It wasn't a sex groan, it sounded like the groan I make at the end of a long, frustrating day at work.
"Chad, you almost ready to go? I don't want to be later than we already are."
