Markwildyr.com, Post #256
Hope Christmas went well for
everyone. Now we have to get past New Year’s… especially New Year’s Eve. Stay
sane, everyone.
This story picks up a week later when he returns to the park bench and spots one of the college kids involved in last week’s tryst. The kid boldly approaches Layton, introduces himself as Ken, and asks what Layton thought about what he saw the previous Monday.
AN
ARMY BRAT AND A WHITE-VINED PARK BENCH
“Uh, like what?”
“Well, what did you think of
my bare butt, for one thing?”
“Tried not to think of it at
all.” There, that was better. No stuttering that time.
“Tried not to? That means you
did. Care to give it a rating?”
“Uh….” Damn, stuttering again.
Maybe not stuttering, but pissing around before answering the question. Same
thing. “Not that experienced at rating guy’s asses.”
“Don’t give me that. Good-looking,
built guy like you? I can tell you’re an athlete. Athletes shower with guys. So
you’ve seen plenty of bare, male butts.”
“Guess so.”
“Know so,” he said, clamping
onto my thigh above the knee in a macho, goodwill sorta way. But he left his
hand there, and it burned like his hip against mine did. I dunno why, but I
didn’t push it away. Didn’t do anything.
Ken turned his head to look at
me. “Make you curious about anything else?”
“No… uh… I dunno.”
He flashed a smile, making him
handsomer than any movie star I’d ever seen… sexier, at any rate. That thought
rattled me some, I can tell you.
“Dunno means you’re not closed
to the suggestion. But first, maybe you’d like a feel?”
“Feel? W-wha’da ya mean?”
He moved his hand up my leg. “Oh,
like this, for example.”
I clamped my legs together,
trapping his hand.
“Relax,” he said in a soothing
voice.
I did, and his hand went to
work. I’ve heard of blind people “seeing with their hands,” and while those
chocolate brown eyes weren’t blind, that hand’s examination was so thorough it must
have known exactly what I looked like beneath my trousers.
He spread his legs, which
pushed his left one hard against my right. “Your turn.”
Like it had a mind of its own,
my hand reached out and came to rest on the inside of his thigh. Then it went
dumb.
“Go on,” he said. “Take a good
feel.”
So after a good look around to
make sure nobody was nearby, I did. One touch, and that monster beneath his sweatpants
started growing. Before I knew it, I was holding onto a throbbing tube of flesh
yearning to be free.
I was gonna let go, but he
reached for me again, his arm trapping mine where it was. So help me, this
time, I reacted the same way he had. Junior grew and got muscular fast.
“Impressive,” Ken said, giving
that loopy grin that made him handsomer than all get out.
“Y-yours too,” I heard my own
voice say. Damn, first my hand acted on its own, and now my voice box went independent.
Taking me by surprise, he
removed his hand and yanked down his sweatpants, exposing an excited monster.
It bobbed around like that blind eye at the tip was hunting for a home.
“Somebody’ll see!” I
whispered.
“Nobody around. Take hold of
it.”
My hand became animated again
and obeyed. Man, talk about hot. It was physically warm. My hand, acting
independently again, pumped it a couple of times.
“Feels good, Layton. Feels
good. Now yours.”
I’d lost the ability to
resist, so I just lay back against the bench and let him do what he wanted. My
trousers had a belt, but it didn’t take him any time at all to overcome that
obstacle. And just like his, mine bobbed and weaved like it was looking for a
fight. His hand around it about sent me out of my senses, especially when that
hand started moving up and down. He sighed as I did the same.
“You one good-looking stud,”
Ken said, a sigh in his voice.
“Y-you are too. Really
handsome. Bet you could have any girl you wanted. Why’d you want me?”
He leaned his shoulder against
mine while both our hands worked like crazy. “You’re prettier than any girl I
know, Layton. You’re sexier than that guy I met here last week, and he was a
real looker, I can tell you.”
“I’m… uh… ah… oh… not.”
Ken stretched his legs. “Oh,
but you are. And you’ve got a great touch. Uh-oh. Getting serious here.”
“You… you do too. Serious… over…
here too.” My legs spasmed. My belly contracted, and Junior let loose with a gush
of hot sperm.
“Atta boy!” he breathed. “Spewed
like a volcano! Ungh, oh my. Here… I… come!”
And come he did. For a long
time. Forever, it seemed like.
Finally, we both lolled back
against the bench breathing heavily. After a minute or so, Ken took out a clean
white handkerchief and cleaned me off before tending to himself. I’ll swear
that scrap of cloth was sopping wet by the time he finished. As we restored our
clothing, he glanced over at me.
“Well, how was it?”
“Great.”
“Your first time… with another
guy, I mean?”
“Uh-huh.”
“How do you feel about it?”
“How do I feel? Worn out.”
“No regrets? No recriminations?”
“Why would I?”
He shrugged, and although I
was sexually sated, I experienced a brief pang of lust. “Some guys feel like it’s
wrong, and they’re mortified afterward. Me, I just enjoy the afterglow.”
“Afterglow?” I asked. “Yeah,
that’s it. Afterglow.”
“I like you, Layton.”
“Me too. I mean, I like you,
Ken.”
“Wanna meet again? Lots of
things I can teach you.”
“Better than… you know, what
we just did?”
That devastating grin again. “Lots
better.”
*.*.*.*.
Seems like the
college boy was looking for more than just telling Layton to keep his mouth
shut. As a matter of fact…. Well, I won’t say more, because we’ll likely see
more of Layton and Ken later.
Website and blog: markwildyr.com
Email:
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Now my
mantra: Keep on reading. Keep on writing.
You have something to say, so say it! (Don Travis keeps reminding me I stole it from him, but he didn’t
copyright it. His bad.)
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