Spill the Mil

Author's Note: As promised, a longer story in time to give you all something to read over the holiday (given that it posts in a timely manner). This season, I am thankful that I did not lose my eyesight. I also give thanks to all of my readers, and a whole heaping of thanks to Nelle1022 for beta reading, editing, and providing much appreciated input.

****

"STOP! STOP! STOP!" Craig shouted excitedly, leaning forward between the front seats and pointing in the direction that he wanted Mitch to go.

"Stop yelling in my ear, dickwad!" Mitch barked. "You nearly made me wreck my car!"

Craig lowered his voice, but he was still excited. "It's a carnival!"

"Holy fuck," I bitched. "How fucking old are you? Ten?"

"Come on!" Craig whined. "You guys wanted to do something. Let's go. Look! They have beer!"

"It's probably fifteen bucks an ounce," Mitch grumbled but pulled into the grassy makeshift parking area of the traveling carnival.

"If it sucks, we'll just go to the bar like we planned. No harm, no foul," Craig replied, flinging open the back door before Mitch had even finished engaging the parking brake.

Mitch and I just looked at each other for a second before getting out of the car. "Come on," he sighed, opening his door. "They have beer!" he mocked Craig in an affected falsetto voice.

Mitch and I headed straight for the shack with the huge, neon, beer sign over it while Craig bounced around us like an excited puppy. It wasn't fifteen bucks an ounce, but it was close: Ten bucks for a plastic cup of cheap, watered down beer that tasted like warm horse piss. But at least we didn't have to worry about who was the designated driver. None of us had enough cash on us to be able to buy enough of those tiny ass cups to even get a nice buzz going on.

Once we had our beer, we walked around the carnival grounds, checking things out. Mitch and I were cutting up and making fun of everything we saw and annoying the shit out of Craig.

"What's your problem, Adam?" Craig grumbled. "You used to love carnivals. You and Trina used to go to them all of the time when we were in high school."

"That was ten years ago!" I retorted.

"It was eight years ago, douchebag," Craig shot back. "No wonder you had to take algebra three times."

"Fuck you." I reached over and smacked him on the back of his bleached-blond head, forcing him to jump back in order to avoid spilling his beer down the front of his shirt.

Craig glared at me.

"All right!" Mitch intervened. "Break it up, girls. We're here. Let's make the best of it."

Craig continued to glare at me. I smirked at him. He'd never take me on in a fight. Craig, with his bottle-blond hair and childish exuberance, was the smart one of the group. And I outweighed him by a good fifty pounds.

I was the bruiser of the group. I was only 5'11, but I had played football in high school, and I'd worked construction ever since. I'd kept myself strong, and Craig, being 5'6 and somewhere around 130 pounds, wasn't stupid enough to instigate a physical confrontation with me.

"And speaking of girls..." Mitch continued. "Check that shit out."

Craig broke off giving me the evil eye long enough to glance over at what had caught Mitch's attention. I turned my head more slowly.

The carnival was fairly large, and pretty crowded, but it wasn't hard to figure out what Mitch was looking at. There was a small clutch of scantily clad girls at one of the midway games.

"And look," Mitch added. "There's three of them and three of us. Even someone who failed Algebra twice can do that math." He smirked at me and started walking.

I glared daggers at the back of his head but said nothing. I wouldn't take Mitch on in a fight either but for a different reason. He wasn't bigger than me. In fact, he was smaller, with dark brown hair and the build of the runner that he'd been in school. But Mitch and I had fought a lot growing up. Best friends do that. I knew, from lots of experience, that he was vicious, and he fought dirty.

"Come on." I wrapped my arm around Craig and roughed up his shaggy hair. He smirked at me, hostility forgotten, and we followed Mitch toward his game of choice.

By the time we caught up to Mitch, he was already trying to impress the girls by winning them a toy. Craig stepped in and joined the fun immediately. I held back. This was all fairly standard behavior for us. Mitch was the outgoing one. Craig was his wingman. I was the shy one. Except that I wasn't the slightest bit shy. They just didn't know that. Letting them believe that I was shy was better than the alternative. There was only one person who knew the truth about me. Well, one person whose name I knew. Trina. She was my girlfriend all throughout high school and beyond, when she went to college, and I stayed behind to complete my makeup year of school. I graduated a year later than the rest of them due to that unfortunate algebra issue that kept me off the field and sitting on the bench for most of two seasons.

Our relationship had been one of convenience. She was a cheerleader, and I was a football player, although I wasn't a very good one. It seemed natural that we'd hook up. Except we weren't hooking up. She had been molested as a child and was terrified of sex. She didn't want anyone to know that she wasn't having sex like all the rest of the girls. I kept her secret. She kept mine.

She finally got past her issues while she was in college and moved on to a real boyfriend. I had been single ever since. The guys thought I was heartbroken over the breakup. Shy and heartbroken. It was as good of a cover story as anything else, I suppose.

I stayed on the periphery and kept quiet. I still joined in the fun, I just wasn't as boisterous as the rest of them. We all ended up having a pretty good time. Even being compelled to feign interest in one of the girls didn't spoil the evening. I was used to it, and trying to win a stuffed tiger gave me a perfect excuse to hang out at the Spill the Milk game. I wasn't nearly as interested in the giant stuffed tiger as I was in the carney working the booth. He was exactly my type.

He was young, probably somewhere around twenty, with black hair pulled back into a short ponytail, and bright blue eyes. I couldn't tell how tall he was because I didn't know how high the rise behind the counter was. I knew that he was shorter than me because the lift put him right at my height. He was thin and pretty but not effeminate. He wasn't flirtatious, with me anyway, but based on the sly looks he was shooting my way, he was definitely interested.

When I finally scored the coveted tiger, and gave it to the girl whose name I'd never bothered to learn, it earned me a kiss and her telephone number, which I would definitely not be using. We left the carnival as it was closing down at midnight. After Mitch dropped me off at home, I waited just long enough to be sure he was well away before I pocketed some necessary items and headed back to the carnival grounds in my own truck.

**

"We're closed." The guy walking up to me as I got out of my truck in the deserted parking lot was about my size and was wearing a blue t-shirt that said 'Security' in white, iron-on letters. "We open at ten in the morning."

"It's okay, Mike."

Mike glanced between me and the guy from the Spill the Milk booth, walking toward us. "This guy with you, Seth?"

Seth locked eyes with me. "Yeah."

Mike nodded and walked off. As soon as he was out of earshot, I asked, "Were you waiting on me?"

Seth slipped his hands in his pockets and looked up at me from under his lashes. "I wasn't sure that you'd be back."

I glanced around. We were a little outside of town, but not enough for my comfort. "You got someplace where we can go?"

"Don't you?" he asked.

I shook my head.

He studied me for a minute. "Yeah. Okay."

I followed him back through the darkened maze of rides and booths. There were some security lights on, at intervals along the way, but they were few and far between. The field that the carnival had setup in was far enough from the city lights that the dark areas were truly dark. He led me past the last attraction and down the gentle slope of a creek embankment. My eyes hadn't quite adjusted to the low light of the moon, and I stumbled a bit. I nearly ran into him when he stopped short.

"We have to be quiet," he told me.

I was fine with that. There had been very few of my encounters that were in a place where I was comfortable enough to be noisy.

He dropped down on his knees and went to work on my jeans. He was moaning around my rapidly filling cock in seconds. The wet heat of his mouth was phenomenal as he worked my rod, and I wished that I could see him better. I slipped my fingers into his hair and yanked the rubber band out of it. I buried both of my hands into his silky locks and held on. I didn't guide him; he didn't require it. His soft tongue lapped the underside of my shaft and circled my plump head on the upstroke. On the downstroke, he was swallowing me further and further down his talented throat each time. He was one hell of a cocksucker, and he brought me to the edge in minutes.

"I'm going to come," I warned him quietly.

He popped off me to whisper, "Do you want my mouth or my ass?"

"Yes," I moaned.

He continued to stroke my length while he considered it. "Yeah. Okay."

He let go of my aching prick in order to undo his pants and turn around. He got on all fours while I rolled a condom on and slicked it up.

"Take it easy on me," he turned his head back to say. "I don't usually give up my ass."

I briefly wondered if he was lying until I tried to breach him. His ass was tight. Too tight. He was the tightest fuck I'd ever had. I'm not huge. My cock is about seven inches, if I'm really worked up, and it's not overly thick. It's not skinny either. I'm not ashamed of it, but I'm not porn star material or anything. I couldn't get in him without it hurting me. If it was hurting me, it had to be seriously fucking hurting him. I backed off and used the other packet of lube that I'd brought to slick my fingers and loosen him up.

Then I started to wonder what made me special. Why was he willing to give up his ass to me? I didn't think about it for long. He was moaning softly and thrusting back into my fingers, and it was driving me insane. As soon as I could get two fingers into him comfortably, I lined my cockhead up and pushed. I felt a distinctive pop, and heard a loud hiss from him, when I worked my head in. I froze and waited for him to adjust. He was pushing back onto me before I thought he should be, but I didn't complain. He felt incredible.

I got a grip on his narrow hips and began to rock into him. I was taking it easy on him. I didn't want to come too quickly, and I didn't want to hurt him. Normally, I didn't concern myself too much about whether I was hurting my partners. I didn't know them, and I knew that I'd never see them again. The same was true about Seth, but for some reason, I cared. Maybe it was because I knew his name. Maybe it was just because he was so unbelievably tight. His channel gripped and milked my cock like nothing I had ever felt before. His tight heat was wringing so much pleasure out of me that it was bordering on pain.

The urge to pound him into the ground was getting overwhelming, so I tried to distract myself by looking around. My eyes had adjusted to the low light as much as they were going to. The creek bed was small and pretty. There were a few trees, but it wasn't wooded. This was my first time to be fucking out in the relative open like that. The risk of getting caught was adding an extra level of arousal. We were both fully dressed, with the exception of the parts of our bodies that were required to be exposed in order to accomplish our joining. Even so, anyone who came upon us would have no doubt as to what we were doing.

It was quiet and tranquil, and Seth was progressively getting louder. I bent over his back and wrapped my arms around his chest, pulling him upright with me. The shift in position caused him to gasp and moan loudly. I pushed two fingers into his mouth, and he immediately latched onto them and started sucking. The sensation of his soft lips and tongue on my fingers made me jerk and thrust into him harder. He moaned around my digits, encouraging me. I picked up the pace and slid my other hand down to grab his leaking cock.

"Yes," he hissed around my fingers as he began to grind his hips. I pulled my fingers out of his mouth and covered it with my palm while I kicked up the pace even more. His loud moans were muffled by my hand but could probably still be heard by anyone close by. I needed to finish him off quickly before we got busted. I increased the speed of my hips and my hand, trying to push him over the edge. It worked. I had a momentary flash of concern that he was going to scream out his orgasm, but he didn't. His body locked up, and his ass clamped down on my shaft as he, silently, shot volley after volley across the limestone creek bed. His spent body sagged in my arms. I carefully laid his body on the ground and roughly pounded into him, chasing my own release, the only sounds being heavy breathing and the rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh. The force of my orgasm hit me like a train. I didn't cry out, but my body shuddered and shook uncontrollably, akin to that of a seizure.

After I got home, I thought about him while I stroked myself in the shower. That had been, hands down, the best fuck of my life. It was too bad that I couldn't take the chance of seeing him again. I would have loved a repeat performance. If I did those. Which I didn't.

**

"Get up, lazy ass," Mitch ordered when I answered my phone the third, or possibly fourth, time he called. "Jamie wants to take the kids to the carnival."

"And this concerns me, how?" I grumbled.

"You're not leaving me to fend for myself. You're coming with," he insisted.

"You can't spend the day at a carnival with your wife and kids without reinforcements?"

"Fuck, no," he agreed. "What are you still doing in bed anyway? It's after ten."

"It's Saturday. I like to sleep late on my days off."

"Since when?"

Since I spent the early morning fucking a cute, little trick on a creek bed and didn't get into bed until after three. But I wasn't going to tell him that.

He didn't wait for an answer. "Get the fuck up and get dressed. We'll swing by and pick you up in a few."

"No," I responded. "I have shit to do today." Most of which involved avoiding running into said cute, little trick.

"Bullshit. I already told the kids that their Uncle Adam was coming with us."

I groaned. He was always manipulating me with his kids. They were both girls, Crista was five, and Hannah was seven, and they were the cutest and smartest kids in the world. I couldn't count the number of times that I had been roped into something I didn't want to do because he'd used his girls against me. This time was no exception.

When we got to the carnival, I avoided the midway games like the plague. I even volunteered to stay in the kid's area with the girls while Mitch and Jamie enjoyed themselves, sans kiddos. Right about noon, while I had a child on each hand, waiting in line for the teacup ride, the ride operator went to lunch. He was replaced by none other than Seth. I flinched when I saw the shift change. There was no way that I could get out of him seeing me. If I had even attempted to have taken the girls out of line, I would have had a mutiny on my hands.

He didn't seem to notice me. When we got to the front of the line, I handed him the requisite number of tickets, and he directed us to a teacup. There was no look exchanged, no smile, no scowl. He treated us the same as he did every other patron. It was like he didn't even recognize me.

Throughout the day, I saw him several times, although I never had cause to speak to him again. At no point did he ever act like he remembered me. The girls were exhausted around six in the evening and ready to go home. By the time Mitch and Jamie had dropped me off, I was pissed.

Didn't give up his ass? Obviously it was a common enough occurrence that it didn't make much of an impression on him. Or maybe it was just me that didn't make much of an impression. What the hell did a guy have to do to impress him? It had been good for him. Damn good, even if I did say so myself. I was there. I knew, damn good and well, that he'd gotten off like a fucking firehose. What the fuck was his problem anyway?

I was so annoyed that I didn't go out that night. I was in bed by ten. I was out of bed by twelve-thirty. I couldn't sleep, and I had something to prove.

I pulled into the parking area to find him sitting on top of a wooden barricade, smoking a cigarette.

"You waiting for someone?" I snarled at him as I got out of my truck.

He hopped off the barricade and dropped his cigarette, grinding it out with his foot. "You," he replied calmly.

"Are you sure about that, Seth?" I sneered. "Do you even remember me at all? Because you sure as hell didn't seem to today."

He tilted his head slightly and stuck his hands in his pockets. His voice was still soft when he responded. "Did you expect me to suck your dick in front of your wife and kids?"

"My wi...?" I took a deep breath and sighed. "That wasn't my family, Seth. In case you didn't figure this out last night, I'm gay."

He chuckled dryly. "The one thing does not preclude the other."

"So you thought that I was just using you as a quick fix to scratch an itch?"

"Aren't you?"

I couldn't answer that because he'd pegged me exactly right. It was precisely what I was doing. Minus the cheating on the wife part. "Then why are you here waiting for me?"

"Does it matter?"

Did it? Yeah. Actually, for some reason, it did matter to me. But... "No. I guess not."

He studied me for a second again and then nodded and tilted his head indicating that I should follow him. I followed.

He didn't take me back to the creek bed. This time, he took me to a small camper of the pop-up variety that fit in the bed of a truck. The truck was old and battered, and the camper wasn't in any better condition. It was tiny, but had a bed. "Is this yours?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Why didn't we come here last night?"

He arched his eyebrow at me in a smirk. I got it. He didn't trust me.

He started to strip, and I just stood there and watched. "I don't have anything on me," I told him.

His hands froze on the button of his jeans. "You came here unprepared?"

"I wasn't... I didn't... Think. I didn't think," I admitted. "You don't have anything?"

He shook his head and bit his bottom lip. "I told you. I don't usually give up my ass."

"Then why did you?" I asked. "Why me?"

He shrugged.

Well, shit. I wasn't willing to bareback, but I didn't want to leave there without having him either. This was the last time I was ever going to see this guy, and I wanted him in any way that I could have him. I got on my knees and reached for his fly. He wasn't the only one of us who knew how to suck cock.

I unfastened his jeans and slid them down his legs. He stepped out of them and stood before me, gloriously nude. He was gorgeous. I hadn't been able to see him the night before, so I looked my fill now. He wasn't shaved, but he kept his body hair short. He had a small patch of dark hair in the center of his chest and baby fine hair on his legs and arms. His happy trail was dark and led to a short cropped fluff of black hair at his groin that stopped before the swell of his balls. His cock was beautiful too. He was circumcised, ramrod straight, with no curve at all, smooth, and unblemished. I guessed him to be about six inches plus with a thick mushroom head. Not too big, not too small, and I found myself craving something I hadn't had any interest in for years. Pointless desires. It wasn't going to happen. Not now, and not with this guy. He also had a tattoo on his right hip of two male symbols linked together. I rested my lips over the top of the tattoo and licked him. He groaned and shuddered.