Little Red Pill Ch. 03

I woke up the next morning feeling great, despite the rock hard boner I was already sporting.

I was feeling even greater than great when I whipped out the tape measure in my night stand and meticulously measured said boner, and came up with 6 and 3/8 inches. sometime between yesterday's locker room fuck-fest and this morning I'd cracked the 6 inch mark and then some.

I celebrated with some ridiculously long sets of crunches, push-ups, and planks right there in my bedroom. I worked off the hard-on at some point in the middle of the routine, and headed downstairs to prepare and inhale a late but mammoth breakfast.

This was my last day of freedom before my first scheduled shift at the grocery store for the summer, and I contemplated how I'd spend it while I loaded the dishwasher.

I thought about my shorts from yesterday, discarded in a ball in the corner of my bedroom. I thought about the slip of receipt paper shoved down in one of the pockets with the number on the back and the note from the Latino hunk that said "Hit me up sometime. -Renzo."

Jesus, how desperate would I come off if I waited less than a day before texting him looking for a hookup? Was I really suddenly that cock hungry? For such a new and alien feeling for me, I struggled to remember a time before I constantly had cock on the brain.

Old-Me would have been embarrassed by these thoughts. I would have been mortified at the idea of so eagerly seeking out a relative stranger's company, especially a dude's. But I felt my newfound confidence creeping in and overtaking my awkwardness. Suddenly cock-sure of myself, I was about to march right upstairs to fish that number out of my shorts. I was momentarily distracted by the sudden sound of a motor whirring to life outside.

It seemed to belong to a lawn mower, and it sounded much too close to be from one of the neighbors. Absentmindedly curious, I left the kitchen and followed the noise to the front window of the living room that looked down onto the front lawn.

My heart jumped to my throat. At the curb at the end of my yard, a red pickup with an open bed trailer attached sat parked in the street. "Michael's Lawn Care Services" was stenciled on the side of the pick-up. down at the end of my yard, riding up towards the house on a standing riding mower, was a familiar tanned hunk with a mess of sandy blonde hair.

My mind flashed back to earlier last week when I'd gone for a jog around the neighborhood and ran smack into the back of this kid's trailer because I was too busy staring at him mowing shirtless, with his khakis riding low, exposing no hint of any underwear, only the defined lines of muscles at his pelvis veeing down towards his hidden crotch.

He sported the same sagging khaki look today, but had on a white t-shirt with his company's logo on it. The sleeves were cut off entirely, and in fact much of the sides of the shirt were cut away too, giving me partial view of his chiseled midsection as he came up the yard closer to the living room window and then deftly pulled on a control arm and swung the mower around and headed back down towards the street for another pass.

I stood there transfixed in the window staring at him work. I silently thanked my mom for hiring a lawn cutting service while I was away at school. I should have probably been fearful of him seeing me watch him from the window, embarrassed that he might catch me staring, but I wasn't. I found myself oddly wishing he'd look up further and see me at the window watching. I was pretty sure, however, that I was raised up far enough out of his line of sight for him not to notice me. And with the glare from the sun, he probably couldn't see much into the house beyond the window anyway.

I watched him finish up the front yard, feeling a little like a creep, and somehow being turned on by feeling like a creep. As he was finishing up one last perfect line down the side of the yard towards the street, I noticed a painful tightness in my gym shorts as my wood pushed against the fabric. My hand snaked down my front and squeezed at my bulge.

He cut across the edge of the yard at the curb and stepped off the mower at his trailer. I stopped breathing for a moment as he pulled the sweaty sleeveless t-shirt up over his head and tossed it in the trailer, retrieving a weed whacker.

I had my hand inside my shorts and underwear, pulling and fiddling with my hard-on by the time he had the whacker started and was going to work at the weeds along the curb and up along the edge of our driveway. I had the front of my shorts and boxer briefs pulled down out of the way, slowly rubbing at my shaft, by the time he was going around the edges of the mulch area where my mom had some shaped shrubs and bushes planted.

I was fully engrossed in the moment by the time he was coming up the front sidewalk hitting the patches of weeds at the edges of the path. One hand kept my clothing pulled clear of my crotch while the other determinedly stroked my swollen cock.

I kept my eyes fixed on the young landscaper. His exposed flesh glistened with sweat. He was all taut muscles, with just a small patch of hair in the middle of his chest above his pecs to distinguish himself as more of man than a boy.

I worked at a frantic pace, feeling like I needed to finish before my jack off material wrapped up and left. When he was at the top of the sidewalk at the bottom of the steps up to our front porch, I felt the tingle of my nut brewing in my balls and slowly working its way up my length more with each pump of my fist. The sweaty landscaping hunk was as close as he'd been to me at the window yet, just below me and to the left. His back was to me and I focused in on the sight of his back muscles and shoulder blades flexing and tensing as he weed whacked. His khaki shorts had fallen so low at his trim waist that I could make out his tan line and the hint of a start to his ass crack, just below a dimple in his spine at the lowest point of his back.

My climax finished boiling up and hit me while i was focused on that tantalizing tan line. Surprised by the quickness of my own orgasm, I hurriedly let go of my grip on the waistband of my shorts and underwear. they snapped back up under my balls as my cock continued pulsing and I held onto it below the head and brought my now free hand up cupped to try and catch the spurts of warm cum that pumped out.

As the throbbing subsided, I was left with a mess. I caught a glimpse of the landscaper heading down the other side of the sidewalk as I left my perch at the window to go find something to clean up with.

I washed my hands at the kitchen sink, grabbed a dish towel and scrubbed at a wet spot on the front of my shorts where a stray splat of jizz had landed. I took the towel with me back into the living room, where I found one more stray blob of cum on the back of the couch beneath the window where I had watched and jerked off.

As I rubbed at the small spot, I realized that I no longer heard the sound of the weed whacker. I glanced up and out the window and saw the pickup and trailer still parked at the curb, but with all the equipment loaded back on it. I thought I'd lost sight of the hunky landscaper completely until I turned my head and noticed him coming up the steps to my front porch. Then he was out of my line of sight and the front doorbell was ringing.

I froze for a moment before I realized there wasn't really any way he could know I had just masturbated to his yard work in here. Then I realized with a shocking thrill that I wouldn't have cared if he did.

I headed for the front door and noticed just before I opened it that I still had a raging hard-on in my shorts.

I yanked open the door to find him standing there in front of the clear glass storm door, still shirtless. I hardly concealed a glance down the length of his front, practically staring at his abs and the faint thin happy trail that ran from his bellybutton down into his low-riding shorts. Then I realized I couldn't really hear what he wanted with the storm door between us. I pushed it open and took a step forward to keep it open with my body.

"Hey," I glanced behind him towards the truck at the curb, "Michael... what can I do for you?" I asked, surprising even myself with my cool nonchalance.

"Huh? Oh, nah Michael's my dad. I'm Gavin..." He paused, seeming to study me. I nearly blushed at his scrutiny. "Hey... Don't I know you?" His voice was deep, assuredly smooth.

I forced myself to quit staring at his chest muscles for a second to get a better look at his square jawed smooth face. He had piercing blue eyes and some slight blonde stubble on his cheeks and chin. The stubble was new, but suddenly I recognized him.

"Oh, hey! Gavin Cartwright? We went to High School together."

His face lit up as I apparently guessed correctly. Gavin was somewhat of a star football player in High School. Truth be told, our paths had rarely crossed back then. I stayed away from team sports. Mostly so I could stay out of the locker room and keep from having to expose my little dick to everyone. I could hardly remember us ever speaking more than a few words to each other, much less having such an easygoing conversation with each other as we were having now. Nevertheless he beamed as if we were old friends. A fact I would have probably found annoying if I weren't so fucking turned on by the sight of him.

"Noah, right?" He continued to beam, flashing pearly white teeth. He stuck out a hand and I took it for a shake. He had a very firm grip, I felt my stiffy twitch in my shorts. "So, how'd your first year of college go?" The way he asked, you'd think we were old pals and that he really cared.

"Good, great," I realized as I answered him that I hadn't let go of his hand even though he'd quit shaking and loosened his grip. I saw him glance down at our hands quizzically before I pulled my hand away and wiped my sweaty palm on my shorts.

"So, I'm actually looking for your mom," he admitted. My eyebrows raised questioningly.

"Oh... she's at work."

He smirked and let out a chuckle that had my already rock-hard cock straining against my shorts.

"Hahaha.. I'm not having an affair with your mom or something, dude. She just owes me for the last few mowings."

His smile was infectious, and I found myself smiling back, chuckling and shaking my head.

"That's a relief! I wasn't ready to start calling you daddy," I blurted out. I couldn't believe that I would say something like that. It wasn't even an accident. I was trying to flirt with him. He looked taken aback.

"Right, well, I'll try to catch her this weekend maybe."

He made a step back towards the steps down off the porch. Suddenly I wasn't ready for him to leave yet. Already some sort of crazy plan was forming in my head, surprising myself with how wild of a fantasy it was.

"Hold up! My mom's checkbook is probably in here somewhere. Come on in out of the heat for a second, let me see if I can find it."

Gavin hardly even hesitated, the allure of the AC so powerful. Before I knew it he was following me in and I was shutting the door behind us.

I led him down the hallway into the kitchen, more wildly-unbelievable thoughts swirling in my head.

He stood leaning his back against the counter while I turned my back to him, making a show of rooting through a pile of ads and mail on the kitchen table.

"It's gotta be here somewhere," I muttered for effect. "Can I get you anything to drink?" I tossed back over my shoulder.

"Nah, man. Thanks, but I got more yards to cut. It's really no problem if you can't find it. I can just catch your mom next time."

I feigned a huff of frustration as I plopped all the papers back down on the table and spun back to face him. I hardly understood where this was all coming from, but it suddenly felt like a train that was already in motion. I couldn't pull the breaks even if I wanted to.

"I swear I thought it'd be here somewhere," I shrugged. "But, I could pay you some other way in the meantime," I mused.

Adorable confusion flashed across Gavin's face for a second while I moved in. It was only a few steps between me at the table and him at the counter. I was nearly pressed against his shirtless body, my hand grabbing at the crotch of his shorts, before he could even process my proposal.

"The fuck!?" He barked, reflexively pushing me away. I had only a moment to make out the feel of his package hanging there freely between his legs beneath the fabric of the khakis. And then his strong arms had shoved me away and I stumbled backwards, knocking into the back of one of the kitchen chairs.

Old-Me probably would have coward back and begged him not to pummel me. New-Me stood my ground. My sex-crazed mind had cooked up this plan and wasn't ready to abandon it yet.

"Christ, dude! I never took you for a fag back in High School!"

I was momentarily stung by the name calling. My instinct was to retort that I wasn't a 'fag.' But then, what was I doing? I had just pounced on this dude and grabbed his dick. Didn't that make me a fag? I didn't feel like one. Honestly I didn't know what I felt like. I just knew my recently enhanced member was swollen in my shorts and wanted some release, and it was making all the calls for me.

I decided to ignore Gavin's comment completely. He had shot a few glances towards the hallway out of the kitchen back to the front door, but he hadn't moved to leave yet. Or hauled off and punched me yet, for that matter. When he looked back towards me I hit him with intense eye contact, something I would have never had the guts to pull off only a few days ago.

Gavin returned my gaze, but broke first. "So anyway yeah, I should- I gotta go... Ehrm like I said, I'll uhhh- catch your mother next time..." Big Hunk Star High School Football Player was flustered. He had yet to actually make a move out of the room. Almost as if he were hesitant to walk past me. His hesitance emboldened me.

"You sure, man? I'm just looking to repay you a little for all your hard work," I purposely let my eyes fall towards his crotch. When I looked back up to his face, I raised one eyebrow seductively. I didn't even know that was something I knew how to do. Gavin cleared his throat and smirked awkwardly.

"You are not at all how I remember you," he admitted.

"Maybe you just never got to know me to begin with," I countered. I didn't tell him that I wasn't at all how I remembered myself either.

He looked around nervously, as if checking to make sure we were really alone.

"So, what? You're gonna give me head or something?" He meant his tone to sound jokey, but I could hear him seriously considering it underneath. Inside my heart leapt, as if I had never expected this crazy plan to work. Outside, I casually shrugged.

"If that's what you want."

He took one more glance towards his exit behind me, and my stomach sunk, thinking I'd lost him.

"Fuck it, but let's make it quick. I really do have more yards to cut."

His hands went to the button of his shorts and my eyes were suddenly glued there as well. With a snap and a zip he had the fly of his khaki's down, and with no belt, the shorts just fell from his toned legs down around his ankles.

My eyes followed the thin happy trail down to a short little blonde patch of pubic hair, below which dangled a pristinely smooth cut penis. He wasn't exactly hard yet, but I could already tell that the handsome bastard wasn't only gifted with good looks and athletics. I stared at it, transfixed. I licked my lips.

"Let's go if you're gonna suck it. Before I change my mind."

His suddenly gruff voice shook me from my trance. Without even realizing how I'd gotten there, I found myself on my knees before Gavin. His hands were on his hips as he leaned back against the kitchen counter. I deftly took his floppy member in my hand and lifted it up so that I could swallow the bulbous head between my lips.

I went to work with wet lips and tongue, like this wasn't only my second blow job ever. As if I were some cock-sucking expert. Gavin was quickly growing larger and harder at my oral attention. I methodically stroked from his hefty sack up the shaft, meeting my lowering lips halfway down. Periodically I added in a flick of my tongue along the underside of his glans. Gavin sighed.

"You're pretty good at this for a dude... uuuuuhhh yeah, you're a cock-sucking faggot, aren't you?"

His confidence had seemingly all come back to him now that I was on my knees in front of him, his cock in my mouth. It was the same Alpha Male status that I recall when I thought back to him in High School. It sent a surprising thrill through me. His taunting words sent a tickle through my own crotch.

I savored the taste and feel of his hardness in my mouth as I slowly bobbed my head forward down onto him and slid my grip purposely up his shaft until my knuckles met my lips.

I felt one of his strong hands cup the back of my head and push with the faintest pressure.

"Come on, quit fucking around and suck my dick! I told you, I got shit to do."

The faint pressure quickly became less faint, and soon he was pushing hard enough to force my head forward towards his groin. He was controlling the pace now, quickening it. I worked up more saliva in my mouth to help my lips glide quickly and smoothly down his pole, my fist picking up the slickness as I continued stroking. The kitchen was filled with the sound of slurping and squelching as I jerked and he forced me to continue sucking him off.

"Yeeeah, slobber on my fucking dick! Uuuhh.. you like sucking that big fucking cock, don't you, faggot?"

I was oddly tempted to pull my head away to give him an answer, even if he was being rhetorical. I couldn't have if I tried though, with him pushing on the back of my head as he was. I settled instead with hmmmming my pleasure in my throat as I continued dutifully sucking and stroking.

Suddenly a strong hand came up and latched onto the wrist of my stroking hand, halting me. Gavin roughly yanked my hand away from his cock.

"Get that hand out of the way, you fucking pussy," he ordered.

I didn't dare bring my grip back up to his cock, instead bobbing my head forward into his crotch. I had the urge to engulf as much of his manhood as I could. I got a little over zealous and felt his swollen head reach my tonsils, producing an involuntary urge to gag that I tried to suppress.

"That's right, swallow my cock, faggot!"

I felt both of his rough hands on top of my head now, twisting in my short hair as he pushed me forward onto him. This time he forced my mouth down around his cock far enough to pass my tonsils again. I fought back a gag again. He let up enough for me to pull back until just the tip remained in my mouth and then he was pushing my head forward again forcefully.

I could have fought him, but despite nearly choking on his dick, I inexplicably wanted to take his whole length, to impress him, to please him. So I let him push my head forward further. He slid past my tonsils and kept going. I felt my airway cut off and his cock-head press the back of my throat just as my lips finally met where his shaft joined his balls, my nose pressing into his pelvis.

I made feeble choking noises as tears sprung to the corners of my eyes. I felt my mouth producing spit in overdrive. He held me there, completely engulfed, until I calmed down and then he pulled me off his knob by the hair. I desperately sucked in a breath through my nose as my lips slid up his length and let it out again as he jammed my head back into his crotch.

I barely gagged that time, and Gavin didn't hold me there nearly as long, pulling me back just as he hit the back of my throat.

We repeated the process, me throating his length, faster and faster. Saliva ran down my chin and I felt snot leaking from my nose.