*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
Disclaimers: Yes I need an editor and no I do not want an editor. Yes it jumps around too much, yes there's too many people to keep track of, yes it's too long, yes it's too short, yes it's in the wrong category, yes this is stupid shit and yes I am barely legible, barely literate; I don't know why I even bother.
For those of you that have not hit the backspace key, I hope you enjoy this flash tale.
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Charles 'Buddy' Mechon was running to be the State Representative for District 78, as a Democrat. District 78 had not voted for a Democrat since John F. Kennedy was running for the Presidency and even then it had been an extremely narrow victory for the Democratic ticket.
But Buddy just knew he would be that fresh faced kid, that new voice for the district. He went on a whirlwind campaign, taking his message quite literally door to door, business to business, shaking hands, listening to the concerns of the people, telling them why they were wrong to have those concerns and how the state government would be better suited to take care of the concerns they should be having.
In the small town of DeGarde, Louisiana, Buddy was walking up and down the aisles of Early's Grocery store, telling people how capitalistic greed and the use of fossil fuel and climate change had driven the prices of their groceries up, went he saw something that made him stop in mid-sentence.
A young woman was buying a fifth of St. Elizabeth's Whiskey at the small liquor counter.
"Excuse me," Buddy demanded of the young man behind the counter. "She didn't show you any ID."
"Didn't need to," the young man shrugged. "We went to school together; I know she's nineteen."
"Nineteen?" Buddy shrilled. "Uh, the drinking age is twenty one. That's not just in the state of Louisiana, that's nationwide!"
"Yes sir?" the young man politely asked, uncomprehending.
A few telephone calls to the bureaucrats in Baton Rouge and Early's Grocery store, an icon, a landmark of DeGarde, Louisiana since the 1920s was shut down.
(On a side note, out of the 18783 available votes in District 78, Charles 'Buddy' Mechon received 143 total votes.)
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"Fuck, this sucks," Brandon Prejean whined.
"Already said that like fifty times," Matt Lyons groused.
They looked up as a pickup truck parked close to where they were standing, leaning against the grocery carts outside of Super One Foods.
"I mean, shit, all the bitch had to do was let us have it," Brandon said.
"Yeah, but after that dumb ass got Early's shut down, ain't nobody want to sell no one beer," Matt said.
The man that got out of the truck was an older man, with graying hair and eyes with crow's feet in the corners.
He was muscular; his pull over shirt strained over his biceps and chest. His waist was narrow in his snug black jeans.
He nodded to the two eighteen year old boys as he grabbed a buggy.
"Hey, mister, will you buy us some beer?" Brandon suddenly asked.
The man stopped and smiled at the two.
They were both short, scrawny boys. Both had short brown hair and one had a few freckles mixed in with his acne.
"Buy you... What's in it for me?" the man asked in a deep voice.
"We'll pay for it," Matt offered.
"Well no shit; but what do I get out of it?" the man smiled. "I mean, I get caught buying you two beer, I'm looking at some serious time."
"I uh, I mean," Brandon stammered, all bravado gone.
"Well, what you want?" Matt asked, guessing that they probably wouldn't be getting any beer.
"Tell you what," Bobby Duvalier said, looking around. "Let me suck your cocks, I'll get you the beer."
"No way!" Matt screamed.
"We ain't no faggots!" Brandon spat.
"All right, see you," Bobby smiled and walked toward the store.
"Um," Brandon said.
Bobby stopped and smiled at the two hotly blushing young men.
"Okay, I'll let you suck my cock," Brandon said.
"That's you, what about you?" Bobby asked Matt.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll let you suck mine too," Matt agreed.
Bobby hit the key fob for his truck.
"What kind?" he asked.
"St. Elizabeth's," Brandon said, digging out his four crumpled dollar bills.
"Lager," Matt agreed. "Six pack."
"All right, get in the truck; be back in a minute," Bobby agreed.
"You really going let him suck your dick?" Matt whispered as they clambered into the truck.
"Fuck, I mean, doesn't make us gay we let some old homo suck our dicks," Brandon hotly argued.
"No, probably not," Matt agreed.
He shifted in his seat, hard cock trapped in his jeans.
"I mean, shit, he sucks us off, then we just go to the park and get our party, right?" Brandon went on.
Inside of Super One Foods, Bobby pulled two six packs of beer from the cooler, picked up a fifth of inexpensive bourbon, and a two liter bottle of cola. He grabbed the few items he'd come for, then pushed his buggy to the counter.
He chatted pleasantly with the young Asian girl at the cash register, wished her a good night, and then left the store.
"Here he comes!" Brandon said excitedly.
"God, we alcoholics or what?" Matt giggled excitedly.
Bobby showed the two boys the beer as he slid into the large truck.
"Hey, uh, where we going?" Brandon asked as Bobby drove out of the parking lot.
"My apartment, unless you got some other place in mind," Bobby said.
"Uh, we uh, we was just going to the park, drink there," Mat admitted.
"My apartment doesn't have the cops walking around," Bobby pointed out.
