Cocklust Ch. 28

That weekend was a blur of speeches, receptions, and other special events. We also got Skype calls from relatives like Rachel and Todd. Of course Amy was always the star of the show. Mom got kind of weepy at times, and she kept taking pictures left and right. Dad was also worked up, but in a totally different way: he asked a million questions about Amy's plans for law school, and he offered a bunch of advice that she probably didn't need.

Don't get me wrong, we all had a great time. The only problem was that Chad and I were hardly ever alone. We kept wanting to explore the fetish we'd just discovered-- maybe try out some bondage or something-- but we couldn't finagle the privacy we needed, at least not without tipping off the others.

It was incredibly frustrating to know Chad's cock and balls were constantly within reach, yet were almost completely off-limits. I kept thinking of all the things I was dying to do with them, from sucking to fucking to everything else. At one point we walked past a football field; I was dying to pull him under the stands so we could bang each other's brains out. Then there were all the little parks that were full of secluded spots. For such a small town, it had a lot of possibilities. Chad was clearly thinking along the same lines as I was: his dick kept straining against his pants, and his eyes kept meeting mine.

I do have to say, our stay at the B&B was kind of romantic, my family's presence notwithstanding. Our room had an almost idyllic view of an apple orchard on one side and a strawberry field on the other. But we hardly ever looked outside, since our bed was so warm and comfortable. It kept creaking whenever we moved, but it did stay quiet when we snuggled, so we kept falling asleep in each other's arms.

Every morning, when we got up, Mrs. Perkins greeted us with a big home-cooked breakfast. And when I say home-cooked, I mean it was the real deal: the eggs apparently came from her henhouse, and the sausage and bacon came from a nearby farm. Even the maple syrup came from trees out back, which was something I'd never heard of before.

After breakfast was our time to shower. Chad and I always made sure our door was locked; then we stripped down and headed for the bathroom. This was the only time we could properly fool around, and even then we did it quickly and furtively. The last thing we wanted to do was get caught.

I couldn't help thinking of the first time I'd laid eyes on my man. Our old dorm's industrial-sized showers were pretty much the opposite of the intimate antique fixtures we had here. Even so, Chad looked almost exactly the way I remembered, with his balls swinging between his legs, the water dripping from his dick, and the stream coming off his skin. I thought of how I'd originally fantasized about fooling around with him. Not only had my fantasy come true, but our relationship had gotten to the point that shower sex almost seemed tame.

That Sunday in particular, we lingered longer than we probably should have. I couldn't help it: I fucking loved feeling Chad's dick against my thighs. I also relished making out with him, even when it meant getting shower spray in my face. My absolute favorite was when our cocks rubbed together, and I could reach down and service both of us with one hand.

"Fuck yeah," Chad was saying between kisses. "Your dick feels so fucking good...."

I pressed his body against the wall, and I used my free hand to pin his arms above his head. "Do you want it?" I asked.

"Oh fuck," he said. "You're driving me crazy...."

"That means I'm doing my job," I replied. "Remember, this is supposed to be a quickie." With that, I tightened my grip as I stroked both of our cocks.

"Mm baby...."

"Just think of what we'll get to do later. When we're really alone."

"I can't wait...."

I sped up my strokes. Chad's body seemed to melt against the tile; he was clearly enjoying the ride. I could feel his dick getting bigger, which of course made me harder and harder-- if that was even conceivable.

"Oh yeah," seemed to be all he could say. "That feels so fucking good...."

"Then cum for me," I said. "I want to see you fucking shoot."

"It's not like you haven't seen it before...."

"Don't argue with me," I said as I slid my lips across his cheek.

"Oh fuck," he said, "I'm so close...." And without another word, Chad closed his eyes, dropped his jaw, and started to cum.

I felt his first shot hit my pubes. Then I shifted my hand a little, and the next few jets hit my bellybutton. I hadn't expected him to get off that fast, though I wasn't about to complain. I kept going till his orgasm ended; then I let go of his dick and started pounding myself. I just thought of the sexiest things I could, most of which entailed Chad getting pounded into submission. Finally I let out a gasp, and I splooged all over his abs.

"Yeah," Chad said, "that's so fucking hot."

I kissed him again, and I pressed his body harder against the wall. Our cocks jousted against each other at first; then they settled into place, lying perfectly side by side. "So," I said, "are you still hungry for more?"

Chad put his hands on my ass. His dick was still as hard as a rock. "Do you really need me to answer that?"

"Well good," I said as I kissed him again. "If we're lucky... maybe we can get a chance later."

Chad's dick responded in kind. "We'd better," he said. Then we made out for another minute longer, while the warm water poured all over us.

We didn't want to get dressed, but we knew we didn't have a choice. Commencement was at nine o'clock that morning. Mom had made clear that she wanted us looking our best, with dress clothes, ties, and everything. So we put ourselves together as best we could, and we met my parents downstairs. Mom kept fussing over us as we headed into town.

As we expected, the Dartmouth campus was crawling with people, and caps and gowns were everywhere. We still found Amy pretty easily. She was sporting a bunch of decorations, since she was graduating summa cum laude, plus she'd been involved in lots of organizations. But she kept downplaying it, as if she was used to that kind of recognition.

"I'm so proud of you," Mom said. "Here, I want a picture. With all of us this time."

"You want me to take it?" Chad asked.

"Sweetie," she said, "I want you in it too!"

Chad and I exchanged glances. Sweetie? I thought. Mom had only ever used that word with Amy and me; she'd never used it with anyone we'd dated. I didn't mind her talking to Chad that way-- far from it-- but it definitely caught me off guard. I kept thinking of how my parents had only really known the guy a few days; after all, I'd just come out to them barely six months before. The idea of having a gay boyfriend, at least publicly, was still pretty new.

Anyway, Mom tapped a random guy and handed him her phone. We all clustered around Amy and smiled at the camera. I felt Chad's arm wrap around my hip, while I put my arm around his shoulders. The random guy snapped the picture and captured the moment for posterity.

The ceremony that followed was exactly what you'd expect. The band played a lot of processionals, some more original than others, while long lines of people marched across the green. A bunch of speakers stepped up to the podium and offered platitudes about life. And of course the graduates walked across the stage.

I have to admit, there were times when my mind definitely wandered. I thought of the honor cords around Amy's neck, and how I could use them to tie up Chad's body. I also imagined using Chad's necktie as a leash, or maybe as a whip. I could even pour that tasty homemade syrup on his skin, then lick it off-- or I could make Chad do it to me. The possibilities seemed endless, at least in my mind.

Chad leaned into my ear. "Down boy," he whispered.

I looked down and realized how hard I'd gotten. With the nice pants I was wearing, my boner's outline was on full display. I felt a wave of embarrassment, and I looked at my parents; but they didn't seem to notice, since their eyes were fixed on the stage. I tried to act casual, and I re-positioned my dick as nonchalantly as I could.

It was a good thing we'd fooled around that morning, because if we hadn't, I'm sure I would've had blue balls that day. And it turned out we weren't the only ones in that boat.

When the festivities ended, Amy took me aside the first chance she got. "Listen," she said, "aren't you all over social media?"

"I... I mean, I dunno about that--"

"I thought you said you'd been on Tinder."

"Not Tinder," I said. "But I guess I know how it works, more or less, if that's what you're asking."

"Well... can you look at my profile? I want it to get more attention."

I frowned. "Are you sure you should be asking me? Considering I'm your gay brother--"

"You know how many guys will be partying tonight? And how many are just in town for the weekend?"

"So... you're saying you just want a hookup?"

Amy tried to shush me. "Don't put it like that--"

"I just didn't know you were into that stuff."

"I told you, I've got needs the same as you do. The difference is, you've already got a man. You can do whatever you want with him--"

"Not with Mom and Dad around."

"Can you just look at it? Please?"

"Hm," I said. I still wasn't keen on the idea, though I had to admit Amy had helped me when I needed her. And it was true I'd promised to return the favor someday.

Amy handed me her phone, and I opened the app. She'd set up her profile exactly the way I'd expected. She was using the same picture as on Facebook-- and frankly it looked like it belonged on LinkedIn. Her bio was also as straight-laced as could be; she almost couldn't have been blander if she'd tried.

I looked over my shoulder. The others were still out of earshot, though they seemed to be heading our way. "Okay, tell me the truth," I said. "Do you want a relationship, or do you just want to get laid?"

"I mean...."

"You've got to be clear on that stuff. Guys don't want to have to read between the lines. We get confused by all those signals and shit."

"You don't have to talk to me like I'm an idiot."

"Well, you asked."

"Scott, for crying out loud--"

"It's true. Do you want my help or not?"

She sighed. "Yeah I guess...." But before she could say anything more, the others walked up.

"Hey guys," Dad said. "Now who's hungry?"

Amy put on a fake smile. "You know, I just got a text from my girlfriends," she said. "They want to have a girls' night out... being our last night in town."

"Oh," Dad said. "We were hoping to spend that time with you too--"

"It's fine," she replied. "If it really matters that much, I can meet you guys for breakfast tomorrow. Or lunch. Or whatever."

"Well... I guess that's true." Dad was clearly disappointed, but he didn't seem to realize what Amy was doing. I just bit my lip as discreetly as I could.

It did feel weird to cover for Amy like this. Admittedly we'd done a lot of the same stuff in high school. But I couldn't help thinking of my slut phase and the problems it had caused. Granted, a hookup didn't constitute a slut phase, but still: I didn't want her to make the same mistakes I'd made.

Amy ended up heading out while the rest of us-- Mom, Dad, Chad, and me-- went to a restaurant near campus. I kept hoping my parents would go use the restroom or something. It wasn't till halfway through the meal that Chad and I had a moment alone. I seized the chance to tell him what was up.

Chad didn't seem the least bit surprised. "Good for her," was his immediate response.

"Is that all you've got say?"

"Well... if she really means this stuff, she should look at your profile too. I mean as an example."

"What profile? You mean Grindr?"

"I mean yeah, if she wants to meet guys--"

"I-I... I'm not exactly proud of that shit--"

"I'm not thrilled about it either," he said. "But you've gotta admit, your profile did what it was supposed to... getting you laid, I mean. And it pulled it off without being X-rated... unlike some of the other stuff we've done."

I looked in Chad's eyes. Part of me was flattered that he felt that way, though I wasn't sure what he was really after. Was he trying to show me off? Or did he have some other motivation? I kept worrying it could blow up in our faces, in any number of ways....

"Anyway, it's up to you," Chad said. "I'm just saying."

I pulled up my old Grindr profile. "Well...." I was about to say something more, but then I saw Mom step out of the bathroom. I fumbled with my phone as fast as I could; I took a quick screen shot, and I texted it to Amy.

"Oh boy," Mom said. "Is this how it's going to be nowadays? With you always on your phones?"

I shoved my phone back in my pocket. "No," I said, "I was just checking something."

"Like what?"

"The weather," I said. "It's supposed to be nice in San Diego."

"I thought it was always nice down there."

I shrugged. "Compared to back home, almost anywhere is nice." I felt a buzz in my pocket, and I knew Amy was texting me. But at that particular moment, I didn't dare check what she'd said.

"I suppose that's true," Mom was saying. "So about this job you'll be doing out there...."

"What about it?"

"Tell me again what you'll be doing?"

"Probably just waiting more tables."

"But Scott... do you really think that's right for you?" She looked around nervously as Dad came back to the table. "Of all the options to choose from... I mean I'm sure you want to explore being out of the closet--"

"Oh come on," I said. I leaned forward and lowered my voice. "If you don't want me working at a gay bar, just... I dunno, just say so."

Mom was quiet at first. She looked at Dad, then looked back at me. "Well... I don't know what goes on at those places. I just wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

"Seriously? What do you think is going to happen?"

"Well... you know...."

"What?"

By now Mom was practically squirming. "Don't people, I dunno... go there for sex?"

"It's not a bathhouse," I said. "It's just like any other bar. Except it caters to gay guys. A lot of people are just there to hang out."

"Well...." I could almost see the wheels turning in her head. Mom had always been a liberal, but now her politics seemed to butt up against her maternal instincts. "I just want you to be safe."

"I'll be fine, Mom." I saw our waiter head toward us. "I've been doing this stuff for months. I think I can handle myself."

Mom pursed her lips but didn't say a word. She just leaned back as the waiter set down our check. Then she picked up her purse, pulled out her credit card, and set it down.

I kept wanting to check my phone, but I forced myself not to. I told myself that whatever Amy had to say, I'd need to read it in private. It wasn't till we got to the B&B that I finally saw her message.

Holy shit, it read. This explains a lot!

I rolled my eyes when I read that. I was tempted to write her back: What does it explain, exactly? But before I typed it out, I saw another message come through.

Wish me luck, Amy wrote. Here I go.

It was hard for me to gauge what Amy really meant. Was she just updating her profile? Or had she already met a guy? Then again, part of me didn't want to know. I just sent her a few emojis, and I left it at that.

Chad and I were both exhausted, so we just plopped into bed. I wrapped my arms around him, but Chad didn't respond. Within a minute or two, he was letting out a loud snore.

I was about to nod off myself, but I kept imagining my sister getting reamed at that moment. Part of me was grossed out, though if I was being honest, I would've loved to be getting reamed myself. I visualized Chad's thighs and the way they could thrust in and out of me. Then there was the look on his face, the way his hair would whip back and forth-- either with or without sweat-- and the way his tendons and blood vessels stood out on his neck. Best of all was the feeling of his fuck muscle opening me up... and that's the last thing I remembered before drifting off to sleep.

The next morning, both Chad and I woke up with massive throbbing boners. We wanted to take care of them-- maybe through a quick jerkoff sesh, or frottage, or whatever-- but we just didn't have time.

When we met up with Amy, she was in an unusually good mood. I didn't need to ask why, nor did I particularly want to. I was more than a little jealous, though I tried not to let it show. I kept looking at Chad, and I told myself we'd have plenty of chances to fuck around ourselves. By that point, it was just a matter of hours till we'd have some real private time; and I practically had a countdown clock in my head.

After lunch, we all went our separate ways. Amy was driving to New York, with all her stuff in tow, to move in with a friend. The rest of us were headed to Logan Airport: Mom and Dad were flying home, while Chad and I were jetting off to California. It was weird saying goodbye to my folks while staying practically arm-in-arm with Chad. Though I wasn't exactly complaining.

"You know," Chad said when we were alone at our gate, "I had a good time this weekend. Your family's really cool."

I couldn't help flinching a little. I didn't want to think about them at that moment. "Please tell me they didn't turn you off."

"Not exactly... I actually learned a lot."

"What are you talking about? Learned what?"

"Well for one thing... now I know where you get that head bob of yours."

"Say what?"

"That thing you do with your neck." He made a weird nod. "Your dad does the same thing."

"I don't do a head bob."

"Yeah you do. It's one of your patented moves. But it's okay: it's cute."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. I wanted to say something in response, but I knew it wouldn't get me anywhere. I just sat back, crossed my arms, and forced myself not to bob my head-- at least in front of Chad.

Our actual flight was uneventful, except I was dying for action, and I wasn't sure I could wait till we landed. I'd heard talk of the Mile-High Club, and I figured now was an ideal time join it. I kept imagining the two of us crammed in the lavatory-- which I knew had barely enough space for one person-- with our bodies doing all kinds of acrobatics. I might brace myself against a wall, while Chad made use of those handrails. As long as we could gyrate our bodies, I thought, we could fuck in almost any position we wanted. Lord only knows where we might shoot our loads, though at that particular moment, it was the least of my concerns.

One way or another, we never went through with that idea. Throughout the whole flight, either people were lining up in the aisles, or drink carts were blocking our path, or there was some kind of turbulence. One of our flight attendants was very clearly gay, and I figured we'd need to be careful around him; I wouldn't want him to know what was up. I just stayed on my best behavior, and Chad did the same.

We got to San Diego that evening, at least by California time. Our body clocks were completely off, which made us want to go to bed that much more. Chad's brother was out of town, apparently visiting his dad. But we were pretty much obliged to have a drink with his mom, who made sure to point out the picture she'd put up.

"Woah," was Chad's immediate reaction. His mom had framed the photo Seth had taken of us a few months before. It showed us in front of the Capitol, with my arm around Chad's waist, while Chad sported an affectionate grin on his face. All of this was on full display alongside the Collins family photos.

"I thought you looked great in this," Linda said. "I hadn't forgotten what you said to me before."

"I guess," Chad replied.

"What do you think, Scott?"

"I-I...." To be honest, I didn't know how to respond. I'd assumed our families were pretty much opposites, yet this was something my own mother could've done. I didn't want to complain, but I couldn't help wondering what Linda was really up to. Was she trying to show how supportive she was? Or did she have something else up her sleeve? "It looks great," was the only thing I ended up saying.