A Summer of Firsts

The man from the stall continued to stroke his wilting cock as button jeans began to unload into Nick's mouth. Nick pulled back, mouth open, so the man could see the sperm firing into Nick's mouth and over his lips.

Nick's first facial.

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THE READER MAY WISH TO END THE STORY HERE.

The man from the stall zipped himself up and tussled Nick's hair in appreciation as Nick continued to suck at button jeans' cock. Checking himself quickly in the mirror, the man turned and left.

Nick heard the door open as the man left. Neither he nor button jeans had any way of knowing that someone entered as the man from the stall was leaving. The man from the stall wanted to yell out a warning, he truly did but he couldn't risk getting caught. He was married.

Nick had no idea what was going on. He heard a voice yelled, "Goddamn fudge packing queers," and then he was lying on the floor. It took him an eternity to understand the guy who had shoved him was a cop. Button jeans could have bolted and almost certainly got away but he felt responsible for the kid, so he stayed. He turned when the cop said, "Turn around."He offered no resistance as he was cuffed.

It never crossed Nick's mind to run. The enormity of the disaster was too much for his brain to decode. What was he going to do? He wracked his brain trying to remember where his mom said she was staying in Quincy? Why he cared was beyond him, he'd never in a million years call her. He had already decided it would be better if he just went to jail. He wouldn't tell them his name. She'd never have to know. He'd simply disappear. Poof.

He was yanked to his feet by a rough hand in his hair. A hand that was the polar opposite of the hand that moments earlier was caressing his head.

Nick stared blankly at the cop, unable to comprehend what the man was saying. His head rocked back when the cop backhanded him. He was vaguely aware of button jeans (he would never learn his name) shouting, "Hey, lay off, you don't need to do that." Button jeans' protest resulted in his head being slammed into the stall partition.

The cop turned back to Nick, red-faced and spitting.

"I said put your dick away and zip your pants, you fucking faggot. Now. You think everyone wants to look at your fucking dick queer boy? They don't."

Nick's fingers managed to do as he was told.

"Now the other one, cock sucker. I sure as shit ain't touching his dick. That's your specialty."

Once more Nick did as he was instructed. Then the cop spun him around and shoved him against the partition. Nick could fell the cop's erection pressed against him as the man handcuffed him.

"What the hell is that all about?" He wondered.

He was aware that people were staring as they were led out of the mall. In the back of the car, button jeans was telling him something but Nick was not capable of listening.

He was telling Nick not to sweat it. It was just a misdemeanor. He'd pay the fine for the two of them. They'd be out in under an hour. Just relax.

Nick heard the words but they made no sense to him.

Normally, they would have put the two of them in the same holding cell but not two faggots. Who the fuck knew what they'd get up to?

Nick was barely cognizant of the cuffs being removed. He did hear the door slam closed behind him. Button jeans was in the cell next to him. He kept repeating what he'd said in the car but Nick wasn't listening.

The cop walked down the short corridor and out into the small office, closing another door behind him.

Nick studied the door for a moment then stepped up onto the bench that ran along one side of the small cell. There was no bed. It was a holding cell, nothing more.

He pulled his belt free and looped it around the uppermost bar of the cell as button jeans began to scream for the cop. Nick slipped the loop around his neck and stepped off the bench.

The first step is always the hardest.

That's a cliché as well.