Rummates Pt. 08

*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

*Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.

*.*

110 Conway Road in Myndee, Arkansas was an older wooden home among other older wooden homes in the lower middle class neighborhood. Brandon "Buddy' Kendall's Aunt Shirley had taken great pains to maintain the home, but time had not been kind to either the home or to Aunt Shirley.

Buddy was her only nephew; she'd always treated him like he was her son and not just the son of her brother, Ronnie Kendall.

"So, let me get this right," Buddy clarified. "This bond for deed; I pay you two fifty a month and I pay all the bills, any taxes, any upkeep..."

"It's your house. You own it," Aunt Shirley said.

"So, what's the down side?" Buddy asked.

"She just told you; you own it," Ronnie teased and his sister slapped him.

So, at eighteen years old, Buddy was a homeowner. Aunt Shirley went into a nursing home; her lifelong battle with Juvenile Diabetes had worsened to the point that she was bedridden. Buddy's first act was to give the exterior a fresh coat of paint.

Pearl Painters had given him a quote but Buddy knew his part-time job at the Brick's Pizzeria didn't give him that kind of disposable income. So, he decided on a lively goldenrod for the walls, a rust reddish brown for the trim and got out on a scaffolding with scraper and sandpaper.

"Damn, Buddy, you been working out?" Craig Delaney, the assistant manager of the Brick's Pizzeria asked a few days after Buddy completed the paint job.

The hot sweaty work had whittled any baby fat off of Buddy's frame. The hot sun beating down had also tanned Buddy's flesh. Then, putting a new tin roof onto his home had packed a few muscles onto Buddy's body.

"Uh huh," Buddy agreed and flexed his arms for Craig to admire.

"Not bad, not bad," Craig agreed and playfully slapped Buddy's buttocks. "But uh, instead of standing around showing off your big guns there, why you don't go see what those pretty girls want?"

The giggling, posturing girls ordered a large Meatstravaganza and a pitcher of diet cola. They giggled and squealed when Buddy asked them who was on a diet; why did they want diet coke.

Buddy liked his job; he actually hoped to be a manager or possibly even a Brick's Pizzeria franchise owner one day. He had started working at the restaurant when he was sixteen; his Nissan wasn't going to put gas into itself, wasn't going to pay its insurance itself.

Buddy had liked working for Ms. Arlene when she'd been the manager; he'd been shocked to find out she'd been stealing from the franchise owner. Buddy really liked working for Craig though. The twenty three year old red head liked Buddy, liked horsing around with Buddy, kind of like a big brother

Buddy did not say it; he would not even admit it to himself, but he enjoyed the casual contacts, the 'manhandling,' the easy-going touches. In high school, he and Warren would occasionally 'rough-house' with one another. Buddy would get a curious feeling in his belly when they would wrestle with one another and he missed those times with his friend. Craig's mannerisms reminded Buddy of those days with Warren.

Since graduating from high school, Buddy was letting his shaggy brown hair grow out. Craig had said he liked Buddy's hair long. Tugging at his own short locks, Craig said he wished he could put his hair into a ponytail like Buddy wore his long hair.

On occasion, Buddy worked with Dennis, the other manager and franchise owner's son. Dennis was hard to work with; he was all business and unyielding. Everything had to be done his way without argument. And, he was never wrong even when he was wrong.

Monday Craig and Buddy worked the lunch shift. As usual, Craig and Buddy horsed around, the slightly taller, slightly more muscular Craig easily pinning Buddy in headlocks. Craig even grabbed the waistband of Buddy's underwear from behind, threatening to give Buddy a 'supersonic monumental colossal gargantuan wedgy to end all wedgies.'

Craig let it slip that he'd decided not to renew his lease on his apartment. Even though the rent was very affordable, he just could not take another month, much less another six months of living next door to the Latin family and their loud music and constant arguments and door slamming and screaming and snotty, obnoxious kids.

"Their headboard's right up against my wall? God, they start fucking, well, I hope it's fucking, all I hear is 'bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!' for the next twenty minutes," Craig complained.

"So, what you going do?" Buddy asked as he lugged the bin of dirty dishes and plastic glasses to the back.

"Looking man, I'm looking. But, what I can afford? In the nasty part of town, you know?"

"Well, what can you afford?" Buddy asked.

"Paying four fifty right now," Craig said. "But that's wiping me out. Trying to find something, you know, about three fifty, maybe four hundred a month?"

Craig moved into 110 Conway Road the next weekend. He took the front bedroom; it was the larger of the two empty rooms. He had sole use of the hall bathroom; Buddy's bedroom had an adjoining full bath.

The manhandling, wrestling, the horse play continued, just as it had been at work. Craig walked around the house dressed in shorts, sometimes with shirt, but usually shirtless. A natural red head, Craig's skin was very pale. His chest was wide, muscled, his abdomen was flat with the beginnings of a six pack. His waist was narrow, his buttocks taut and his hairless legs were sleek and muscled.

As an assistant manager, Craig worked with Dennis on the scheduling. He worked it out with Dennis that he would work with Buddy whenever Buddy was scheduled to come in. There was little Craig could do about increasing Buddy's hours though.

On a blistering hot August morning, a month after Craig moved into the home, the thirty seven year old AC unit quit working. Robertson's H & AC could not come out until Tuesday so Buddy went down to the next name in the online directory.

Sammy Coleman of Sammy's H & AC came out at two forty five that afternoon. By this time, even with the windows open and the ceiling fans in living room and three bedrooms going at full blast, the house was sweltering. Both Buddy and Craig were walking around in their micro-brief swim trunks, wet towels slung around their necks.

"Well, this unit was put in after the house was built," Sammy said, checking the inside unit.

"How can you tell?" Craig asked, curious.

"Right there? See that weird looking plug? They had a window unit there," Sammy pointed to the odd looking outlet underneath the living room window.

"Huh!" Craig said. "So, that's what that's for? There's one in my bedroom just like that."

"That's what that's for," Sammy agreed. "Mr. Kendall? Ain't no easy way say this, but it would cost you more to fix that unit than breaking down and getting yourself a whole new unit. Did y'all, did the previous owner build on to this house? That unit's designed for a house about half this size."

"Bet that's why your electric bill's so high," Craig said.

"That, and those old windows. Single pane? You're just letting money slip out the windows every day," Sammy agreed.

"I, damn, dude, I, shit! How much we talking about?" Buddy stammered, knowing he did not have much to spend on a new AC unit.

Sammy smiled in sympathy; he could see the kid was young and inexperienced. He used his phone to search for a reasonable and efficient unit. Then he slapped his forehead.

"Six seventeen Clinton Boulevard," he said to himself. "Sir, I have a unit; guy put down half then he and his wife split up and I can't find either one of them. I'll let you have that unit; it's rated for three thousand square feet; plenty big enough for this house. I'll let you have it; you pay the remainder and my labor, okay?"

Even at half-price, Buddy paled at the amount. But, a quick call to his father and Buddy assured Sammy he would have the money.

"Okay, it's Thursday; yes, yes, I know you want it now, but soonest I can get back here with it is Tuesday," Sammy apologized.

"All right," Buddy agreed.

"I'll be back," Craig said as Buddy and Sammy worked out the details.

Buddy nodded that he'd heard Craig. A moment later, they heard Craig roar away.

Craig returned roughly forty minutes later. He had a Pak N'' Sak plastic bag in one hand and a Burns & Burns Grocers grocery store bag in the other. He put both bags into the kitchen, then walked out of the house again. A moment later, he stuck his head in the front door.

"Hey, put on some clothes and come help me," Craig ordered.

Buddy pulled on a Kansas City Chiefs tee shirt and a pair of shorts. He slid his feet into his grubby tennis shoes and strolled outside. Craig opened the trunk of his car and Buddy saw an old window AC unit.

"Guy down at the cash for gold pawn shop said he's had it there going on ten years," Craig said as he and Buddy wrestled the bulky appliance out of the trunk. "Twenty bucks, man!"

"Give you forty for it if we can put it in my room," Buddy offered.

"Dude, got to share; you ain't making me sleep with no air conditioning," Craig objected.

"Well uh yeah," Buddy agreed.

With much sweating and grunting and groaning, the two men managed to wedge the window unit into the window of Buddy's rear bedroom. Fortunately, Aunt Shirley had never taken the old flange out. Not knowing what it was, what its purpose was, Buddy had also left it attacked and had cleaned and painted it when he'd painted his home.

And, plug it in; pray that it works," Craig said and both men gave one another high fives when the appliance groaned and grumbled and whirred to life.

"Well fuck yeah, fuck yeah," Buddy whooped as the warm air steadily grew cooler.

Yes sir, yes ma'am," Craig agreed and stripped out of shirt and shorts.

"Yes sir," Buddy agreed, dropping shorts and shirt to the floor.

"And, while we're waiting on this to do its magic," Craig said, herding Buddy out of the room and shutting the door.

In the kitchen, Craig got out a heavy blender. Buddy looked on in confusion; he'd not noticed the kitchen appliance before.

"Saw it when I was looking for the slow cooker," Craig explained.

"Uh, you mean the crock pot?" Buddy teased Craig.

"Uh, you ain't paid me for the window unit yet," Craig threatened as he plugged the appliance in.

From one bag, Craig produced a bunch of bananas. From the second bag, Craig pulled out a half gallon of Virgin Islands Dark Rum.

"Here, you know how to peel a banana?" Craig teased, handing buddy two of the large, thick bananas.

"Uh, yeah," Buddy said, smirking.

"Yeah? How 'bout a pink banana?" Craig asked, pouring a good amount of rum into the blender.

"I, they even got..." Buddy asked as Craig dropped a few ice cubes into the blender.

"Sure do," Craig said, grabbing his crotch.

"OH. Ha ha," Buddy giggled, rolling his eyes.

Craig made banana daiquiris and urged Buddy down the hall to the bedroom. Both young men sighed as the cold air greeted them the moment they opened the door.

The two lolled on the bed and drank their banana daiquiris. Out of the corner of his eye, Buddy could see Craig lazily running his left hand along the outline of his fat cock through the satin material of his micro-briefs. Buddy was transfixed as he watched the movement, watched the thick slab of meat slowly expanding in Craig's swimwear.

"I'm telling you, I don't know which location hired that fat ass Pam bitch," Craig said. "But, seriously? Bitch is just not management material."

"Huh? Oh, oh yeah, I know right?" Buddy agreed.

The Brick's Pizzeria on Clarkston Highway was a training facility for other franchise locations. Management trainees would learn the ropes, learn the right way to do their jobs, then go to the branch location that had hired them. Craig was speaking of Pam Hutchinson, a recent hire from the Gratchley, Arkansas location.

"Tell you what. We bounce her fat ass on out of there? You ought go down and apply at the Sidelow Road location; bet they're the ones hired her," Craig suggested, draining his glass. "Ready for another one?"

"Huh, oh, oh yeah, yeah," Buddy said, draining his own glass.

With Craig's guidance, Buddy made the second batch of daiquiris. He shivered as Craig looped a casual arm around Buddy's waist as he told Buddy what to do.

"And, about medium speed; how many speeds this thing got? One, two, dude, there's nine speeds," Craig said.

The appliance rattled and clattered as the blades chewed through the chunks of ice. When Buddy shut it off, he grabbed Craig's glass first.

"Oh! Hey, you ready?" Craig asked.

"Ready for what?" Buddy asked, reaching for his own glass.

"Ready for a humungous, monumental, colossal reverse wedgy?" Craig threatened, gripping the waistband of Buddy's micro-brief swimwear.

No!" Buddy squealed, laughing. "Wait, a what? What's a reverse wedgy?"

In answer, Craig pulled Buddy's swimwear down to Buddy's knees. Buddy squealed as his fat semi-hard cock and heavy balls sprung free.

"Damn, Buddy, you got some ghetto in you? That, you got a ghetto butt, dude," Craig said, lightly slapping then rubbing Buddy's bare buttocks.

"Quit," Buddy giggled, trying to pour a banana daiquiri and pull up his swim trunks at the same time.

In the cool interior of the slightly dark room, the two young men again lolled on the bed, enjoying the cold air. After drinking more than half his glass, Craig again brought his left hand down and slowly rubbed along the length of his cock. Again, Buddy watched Craig's movements as Craig lazily stroked himself.

"When I was younger, me and Chuckie, God he was a weird kid, cute, but weird," Craig said, reaching down and fondling his balls. "We'd steal a couple of his Daddy's beers then we'd wrestle; we had this old mattress on the floor of their garage, damn that thing was nasty but we'd drink those beers then get naked and wrestle; Chuckie read somewhere that when the Greeks first held Olympic games, they were all naked so we'd get naked and wrestle."

"Oh yeah?" Buddy asked, watching Craig's hand lightly caressing his fat balls.

"Like I said, he was weird. Real cute, though. Actually? He was pretty. He had curly brown hair, real pouting lips and big brown eyes," Craig said absently rubbing the length of his swelling cock.

"And..." Buddy prompted, watching Craig slide his hand along his thick cock.

"Like I said; he was weird. Always talking about the Phoenicians and Sumerians and Greeks," Craig said. "Made himself a shield and shit."

Craig emptied his glass and carefully placed the empty glass onto the small bedside table. They lay in silence while the AC unit continued to grumble and whirr, blowing cold air onto them.

"Want to wrestle?" Craig asked, sliding his bathing suit off.

"I uh, yeah, I guess," Buddy stammered, looking at Craig's long, thick cock.

Buddy was terrible at guessing sizes but he could see that Craig's cock was longer and thicker than his own cock. The flesh was pale in color, a light pink, with a thick vein wending along the length. Craig was uncircumcised and his foreskin hid the head of Craig's cock from view. Buddy saw that there was just a small patch of red hair at Craig's crotch and Craig's balls were two large spheres in his hairless sac.

With some trepidation, Buddy worked his own bathing suit down and off. Craig looked at Buddy's fat five and a half inches of circumcised meat. The two young men knelt on diagonal corners of the bed; Buddy at the left head of the bed and Craig at the lower right corner.

"And...go!" Craig called out and lunged for Buddy.

The two young men grappled, naked torsos rubbing against one another. Craig, being slightly taller and more muscular was able to easily pin Buddy onto the mattress.

"No fair," Buddy whined. "I wasn't ready."

"Fine, fine, big baby. You say 'Go' this time," Craig laughed.

"Go!" Buddy quickly called out and again, Craig won.

Then, while he had Buddy pinned down, Craig gripped Buddy's throbbing cock in his hand. Buddy let out a squeal when he felt Craig's hot mouth descend over the sensitive head of Buddy's cock.

Buddy's head was in a fog as his friend, his roommate gave him his very first blow job. The feeling was indescribable; there was a delicious warmth and wetness. There was a hand slowly, softly stroking him. There was a tongue teasing, tickling the very sensitive head of his cock.

"I, oh man, oh man, I, I'm going to..." Buddy whined and began hunching his hips.

To Buddy, it seemed that his ejaculation was milliseconds after Craig had begun his blow job. And, to Buddy, it seemed that he pumped and pumped stream after stream of semen into Craig's gulping mouth.

"I, oh, oh please, please stop," Buddy whined; his cockhead was too sensitive.

Craig did stop sucking on Buddy's cock, but he did not stop stroking Buddy's thick shaft. He used his other hand to fondle, caress Buddy's heavy balls.

"You like that?" Craig asked as Buddy's cock did not lose his erection.

"I, yeah, yeah, that, that was..." Buddy wheezed, trying to put into words what his first sexual experience had felt like.

"Think maybe I might like it too?" Craig suggested, reaching down and gripping his own throbbing erection.

"I, uh, uh yeah, I, uh, okay," Buddy stammered, looking at the long, thick staff in Craig's hand.

Craig rolled to lay on his back. He held his cock, presenting it to Buddy.

Buddy slowly rolled onto his right side, looking at Craig's cock. Timidly, he reached out his hand and gripped the warm column of flesh. Craig gave a small sigh of appreciation and Buddy smiled.

Buddy slowly stroked the length of Craig's thick cock. He watched his light brown hand against the pale pink flesh, looking at the crumpled ridge of flesh at the head of Craig's cock, Buddy could see a clear fluid oozing out. Suddenly, Buddy's mouth filled with saliva.

"Mm, oh, oh yes," Craig hissed out as Buddy stuck out his tongue and lapped at the wrinkled ridge of foreskin.

The taste of Craig's excitement was salty and bitter. Buddy placed his mouth fully over the tip of Craig's cock and applied suction. He then wormed his tongue between cockhead and foreskin. There seemed to be a reservoir of Craig's excitement waiting for Buddy's tongue.

Pulling his head back, Buddy skinned down the foreskin of Craig's cock, exposing the flared head of Craig's cock. Buddy licked around this flared head, as if he was licking a soft-serve ice cream. Then, Buddy sank his mouth over the tip of Craig's cock and began swallowing motions with his tongue and throat. Slowly, Buddy sank more and more of Craig's cock into his mouth.

"As he licked and sucked Craig's cock, Buddy continued to stroke Craig's length. When he felt Craig began to thrust upward, Buddy increased the speed of his strokes and increased the suction. He also sped up his tongue waggling.

"Oh fuck yes," Craig hissed and began to pump a torrent of sperm into Buddy's mouth.

Buddy swallowed all Craig had to offer. He continued to milk Craig's cock, continued to suck Craig's cock, even as his jaws were beginning to tire from being stretched for so long.

"Oh," Craig sighed, gently pushing Buddy's mouth away.

The two young men lay, Buddy laying against a mound of pillows and Craig laying with his head at the foot of the bed. Buddy still felt like he was in a fog; he wondered if he might be drunk. There was buzzing and whirring in his head as he lay, silent.

He felt the bed jostle as Craig got up. He heard the door open then close. Faintly, he heard the rattle and whirr of the noisy blender.

"Going need get some more bananas," Craig cheerfully said, handing Buddy another frosty daiquiri.