Stumbling Ch. 04

Eventually we broke apart, hands still clinging to one another as we stared into each other's eyes.

"I've wanted that for a while." He murmured, no more than an inch from my lips.

"That was intense."

"No kidding." He said. "Look, I've got to go home."

"Oh shit, what time is it?" I pulled back further to read the microwave clock. 10:15 stared back at me in dull green letters.

"I'll see you at school tomorrow right?" He asked. I could see the thinly veiled hope in his eyes mixed with doubt.

I pulled him down for another slow kiss. I broke apart from him only when I felt him relax a little.

"Don't forget we have a project to work on." I said.

"I don't think I've ever been so thankful for homework in all my life."

We walked to the door. It was that awkward moment where no one really knew what to say. What did this mean for us, where would it go?

"Look, Eeth-"

"Rich, we'll talk about it tomorrow evening okay? I'm not mad, nor am I going anywhere. What we just shared was great, unlike anything I've ever experienced. That said, I still need to think about what that means. Just give me tonight to sort my head. Good?"

"I can work with that." He smiled, an evil mischievous grin. "On one condition muscle boy."

"Oh? We're in a condition making position are we?

"Look who's a poet."

"And didn't know it."

"You're done." He said with finality.

"Ah, but babe..." I pouted.

He kissed me real quick, just barely a brush which served to only leave me wanting more.

"You made me forget my condition you little twit."

"Who you calling little?"

"Certainly not you, my more than adequately tall muscle boy."

"Get out of my house." I said while lightly shoving his chest. "Drive safe Richey."

"I will. Try not to think yourself in too many circles while I'm gone."

He got back into his dad's old truck, waving as he backed out the driveway. Part of me sank down from my high a bit. He had gone to the right. It still made me shiver to even think of that part of the county anymore.

I was a zombie going through my shower as well as my nightly absolutions. Thoughts of Richey spread through my head like dye over a shirt, covering the original till only the dye is noticeable. My aching erection bobbed up at me the entire time. Pre-cum made the head glisten before being washed away. I refused to wank even though I wanted to. Needed to is a better word. Control. What I needed was control. Confidence in the situation was also what I needed. Confidence in Richey.

What would this come to, I asked myself as I lay in the bed. His smell still lingered on my sheets. A chorus of the spices in his cologne mixed with the musky smell that can only be called Richey which served to make my dick leak once more. No, down boy. I felt certain that this could go a good direction if I just got out of the way and let happiness hit me, while a still reluctant part began spouting off the consequences.

"What will people think?" I asked aloud.

Ah, fuck 'em. Most of the assholes in that place didn't even give me the time of day anymore, more so since Stacey stirred the pot. Despite being on the football team, I was never Mr. Popular. Back up safeties don't get fawned over like Arthur fucking Campbell. In reality, I wouldn't lose any friends. It's hard to lose what you never had.

For some reason, I'd always been a loner. When the guys talked about girls, I went off and did my own thing. Girls! Why hadn't I done anything with the girls? I'd dated four for Christ sakes! Never had I had the desire to just bend one of them over the couch and drill their ass till I shot cum out their mouth. Or vice versa with Richey. Oh fuck, that's another one. Could I take being on the receiving end? I may not be well versed in the rainbow side of life, but I think I know where Tab A is supposed to go in this situation. Just thinking about Richey sticking that hard pole I'd felt earlier up my ass sent my cock into convulsions, making me think I was about to cum free handed. Instead, pre-cum just dripped down the length as I looked down at it.

Holy shit. Had this been hiding around some dark corner my whole life? I always thought I'd stayed out of the shit shooting sessions with the other boys because I didn't like how they talked about the girls they wanted. What if I should've been salivating like them, but wasn't because they were going on about pussy and not dick, tits not pecs. How had I not seen this!

I smashed my head back on the pillow a few times, my eyelids growing heavy. I looked over to where I'd sat my phone. A quick check showed a text an hour ago, at 11:00, from Richey.

Richey: 'Sleep tight. Thinking of you.'

He'd sent a pic of him lying on his bed, shirtless, bright blue eyes shining in the camera flash. An angel would have had a hard time competing with that. His slim, sinewy body was on prime display. Pink nipples stared up at me trying desperately to get my attention. On a whim, I made up my mind to up the ante. Whatever this was, I didn't care. I needed him to know just how bad he made me want him, how bad I needed him at this moment.

I checked the hall before darting across to the bathroom. My hand shook as I held the phone in my right hand while stroking up a big dollop of pre-cum with my left. I took the photo before I could chicken out, sending it just as quick. I put a follow up text in just after it.

Ethan: 'Same. No cumming without me. Xoxo'

I hadn't even looked at the picture. I sprinted back to my room, flying back up to the bed to sit and stare at the evidence of my stupidity while hoping he'd still been awake to see it. My brown hair was highly irregular, thrown all about like a bad hand had tried to gel it. I didn't know it was possible to mess up this haircut that badly. The buzz cut on the sides just made the disorganized heap on top look even stranger. My eyelids hung over my eyes, barely letting the irises show. The shiny head of my dick glistened in the bathroom light, the counter cutting off the view of the lower half of my balls. A flat, hard stomach was shown off by my treasure trail running from my chest hair to my pubes. I thought the smile could use some work.

All in all, I actually didn't look that bad. This coming from a man who usually takes selfies that look like mugshots or horses smiling.

He must be asleep. My phone sat motionless on the night stand while I prayed for it to vibrate. I don't even remember falling asleep myself.