Joe the Welder - 3. Revelations

“Now, you gonna tell me how you knew all this stuff was gonna happen?”

Joe and I are lying in bed, both of us recovering from the first-time blow job Joe had provided me, both finishing up a smoke. Joe's question hangs in the air, and he's looking at me, waiting for a response.

“Let me show you a couple of other things you might like first, then I'll see about answering your question.” With that, I stubbed out my cigarette, as did Joe. I moved in for a kiss.

Shit, I love making out—and Joe apparently did as well. Hot fucking kissing, tongues battling it out, lips tingling, the flavor of smokey coffee in his taste. Can it get better? Hell, yeah!

I broke the kiss, and then started licking and kissing along Joe's jawline. His morning stubble was rough on my tongue and lips as I made my way over to his neck, kissing and licking. I teased his earlobe with my tongue, sucking it gently for a second, spitting it out, then pursing my lips and blowing on it. Joe sucked in air and gasped—I guess the combination of the intense sensation, and the new feeling of a man's scruffy face on his skin made him both hold his breath and moan.

I moved on south, pausing at the indention of his collarbone, licking and kissing as I ran into the start of the fur forest that was his chest, tasting the sweat he'd worked up while giving me the blow job. Moving through the fur, I headed toward his obviously erogenous zone of his left nipple. Each lick, and kiss brought out a moan or a gasp or a twitch. My hand was working on his other tit at the same time. And when I lightly bit, then chewed, on his nipple, the fucker arched his back, moaned, and thrashed around on the bed to the point I thought I'd hafta tie the bastard in place. Oh, well, maybe I'll do that next time.

But the fun and games were only beginning.

I was bound and determined to make this the best blow job Joe had ever had. I helped him discover all those little spots of happiness he didn't realize he had by use of my mouth, lips, and tongue; the little hollow spot on his collarbone. The back of his left knee. The crease between his leg and crotch right on top of his hamstring.

“Close your eyes and enjoy, buddy.”

The fun and games were only beginning.

“Goddamn, what the fuck are you doing to me? Shit......”

I promptly proceeded to give him the best blow job I knew how, including lots of play with my fingers with his balls, and his virgin butt.

“Oh, God, I'm almost there!”

Not wanting the fun to end just then, I pulled off for a ten-count, then started back with my focused work. The fucker had what seemed like a grand mal epileptic seizure. Oh, yeah, there's bondage in the fucker's future—the bastard damn near threw us both off the bed and could have thrown me off his saddle horn.

Profanities, more gasping for air from the head of the bed.

I almost pushed him over the edge, but still had more to show him.

He's still trying to catch his breath, so continued using my mouth and tongue on him. Using the pressure of my tongue, I gave his intimate spots of his body a tongue bath like he'd apparently never had before. Half-formed words are spilling from his mouth, but I continue.

Licking up and down his trench, he almost sounded like he was sobbing—apparently this was another first for him. And when my tongue circled his hole, then lapped at it, getting it good and slick, I was convinced that he was mostly alien—the sounds from his mouth were unintelligible, and had to be from another planet.

I grabbed his left leg behind his knee and pushed it up to his chest. He got the hint, held his knee up to his chest and I dove in. His alien sounds got louder.

As I fingered him, the alien was gone—now there was a low growl and his head was tossing from side to side. The breathless boy returned as I added a second finger, twisting and turning inside him, scissoring him open, getting him ready for more than fingers.

“Oh-my-God-what-are-you-doing-to-me-I've-never-felt-anything-like-this-fuck-it-feels-so-good-shit-it's-so-good-my-cock's-gonna-blow-soon..........”

I found his prostate, and gave it a couple of nudges with my fuck finger. The first nudge tightened his ass ring in a vise around my fingers, the second started liftoff.

“God, I'm cumming!” he bellowed in a tone as much of surprise as lust.

Damn, I wanted to fuck the boy, but it was a really hot pleasure to see his orgasm. I kept poking his prostate on each stroke of my fingers in and out of his ass, and kept jacking his cock. I'm convinced that the first shot of cum left a dent in the sheetrock over the head of the bed—it was that hard. The second shot landed on his cheek, the third, on the center of his chest. The remaining shots ended up across his belly, and created a nicely-sized pool of cum at his navel. You'd think he hadn't cum in a week from the mess he made, but this was the second time this morning.

I stroked my cock a couple of times, and I fired off, too—my second load of the day as well. Yeah, it was good. And yeah, I added my cum to the cum on his belly, mostly. There MAY have been a shot that landed on his cheek, but I'm not admitting to anything. And, think I've discovered that Joe is really a BOB—a “Big Ol' Bottom”. That a great thing! But, we'll see.

After I'd caught my breath, I looked at him. He's looking sunburned, all red-faced, sweating like a pig, and gasping for air as if he were in a NASA vacuum simulator. I licked my way up his belly, getting a good swipe of his cum (and mine) to head in for a quick kiss. I pulled off, rolled over on my back next to him, and waited.

“Is it always like that? Always that good?” He sounded both surprised and amazed. “I've NEVER in my life had an orgasm like that, or shot a load that big.”

Chuckling, I responded, “Sometimes, it's even better. You'll just hafta try it again a few more times with me to find out.”

Little boy look came out to play again. “I think I'd love that. I don't think I wanna try it with anyone else. You and me, we've got it good.”

He used that phrase again--”you and me”. What exactly IS that? Guess that definition will come later.

“Just one more question....you got any other predictions I need to know about? I wanna know how I'll hafta settle up.” He grins.

Curled on his side, nestling his head on my shoulder, kissing me a couple of times, he squirmed into a comfortable position, and waited for a response.

At least at this point, I'm not confused anymore. I care deeply for the guy; hell, it may even be the start of love. And, even though he can't name it, I think he's got the same thing going on with me.

I just grin an evil grin at him and wink. “I'll tell ya any insights I come up with—and I've got numbers of ways for you to settle up then. After all, I'd hate for you to be off-balance!”

He pulls me in for another heart-fluttering kiss, and we both break up into laughter.

It's now Wednesday—3 days since that great Sunday morn when Joe and I first had sexual contact and no word from him. I'd called him Sunday night to let him know I'd enjoyed it all, hoped he did too, and I'd heard nothing from him. I'm starting to worry if this is a bad sign.

He called just as I was leaving the office for the day a little after 6 pm. “Hey, buddy! Sorry I haven't gotten back with ya before now. They called me in Sunday afternoon to cover a shift for a sick coworker, and then changed my shift schedule on Monday. I worked Sunday night till 4 am Monday morn, then was back at the job Monday morn at 8. By the time I got home I was so tired, I just hit the sack. Pulled a double on Tuesday, and then regular shift today. I need a drink!”

“Come on, buy ya a beer at Main Street Bar.” Yup, that's the place we met, and I knew even if he was half brain dead, he'd find the place—after all he's still learning the town.

I got there first, and by the time I walked up to the bar, my scotch and soda was waiting for me. (I told ya Frank the bartender was good!). I threw my smokes, lighter, and phone on the bar, reached across, and shook his hand. “Thanks, man. You do a great job here!”

“Glad ya enjoy it, Rex. Where's Joe?”

Huh? He's asking about Joe and me?

“Uh.....he's on his way, just getting off work.”

“Good! I'm glad.” And he beamed.

“Yup, he's a good guy.”

Long pause, and Frank looked me squarely in the eye. “I'm glad ya'll hooked up, and hope you're making this your home bar.”

Wait.....what?

“Look,” he continued, “I saw how he looked at you when you first met. It's kinda like the way my kid looks at his 3^rd grade teacher, the same kind of crush. He's got it bad for you. And don't know exactly where you stand on it, Rex, but he's a good man, and if ya'll can make it work, good on you. And,” he leaned in conspiratorially, “you're both always welcome here. Just don't have a make out session—not sure our other customers would handle it....they might be jealous!” And he laughed.

So, Frank recognizes something going on between us, and he's cool with it. Nice. Just hope Joe is as cool with being recognized.

“Speak of the devil...Joe, how ya doing, buddy?” Frank stuck out his hand and shook Joe's. “I'll have your beer in a sec.”

Joe sat next to me, looking tired.

“How's it going, Joe” I've been worried about ya.”

He beamed that smile at me, and chuckled. “Glad to know ya cared.”

“I do—and I wanna talk about it. Whenever you're ready. I gotta piss first....be right back.”

I left the bar. When I came back, Joe and Frank the bartender are chatting in hushed tones. As I got back up to my stool, Frank went to take care of another customer, and Joe flashed his trademarked million dollar smile at me, and suddenly seemed less tired.

“He knows.” Joe is still smiling.

“I know. He told me when I got here. What do YOU think about that?”

“I'm cool with it. Liking that I didn't hafta announce it. I'm thinking through it all, but you and me, we got it good.”

He used that phrase again, and I had to agree—it was good. And it was all falling into place. Very comfortably so. So, I went with the next questions.

“So you're ok with everything from Sunday? No regrets or second thoughts?”

“Man, I'm ready to do all that again, and anything else you come up with! Fucking loved it all! I've never had any sex like that with any woman, and I was really, really glad you were the one you showed it all to me. I'm still thinking thru the other stuff.” And then he blushed. Merely adorable.

Other stuff? What's he thinking about?

“Well, there's lots more to show, Joe, and we can be as mild or wild as you can handle. Besides, you know I can be, uh.....energetic during sex. And I want to talk about the other stuff, as you call it, whenever you're ready.”

“Yeah, loved the way you worked on my nuts and tits, and eating my ass was incredible—never had ANYTHING like that before! I'm up for anything you can dish out. I trust you.”

So, options for sex play are open......this is getting better. And I'm sitting there, thinking of all the kinky things Joe and I could be doing, and wondering exactly what other stuff was in his head when my spidey sense starts dinging. And it's getting louder, even though I've said nothing that would have triggered it.

The back door of the bar slams open. Brandon, Joe's worthless nephew, red-faced, huffing, barely able to stand. He covers the 30 feet from the door to us in moments, unsteadily. He's obviously been drinking. “What are you doing in here......with HIM?” sneering at Joe as he points at me.

And then, it's like slow motion kicks in, and I watch his hand knot into a fist and he pulls his arm up and back, starting to throw a punch at me. Another arm appears between me and the oncoming fist. It's Joe.

“Brandon, what the fuck are you doing?!? Stop this shit NOW!” Joe is yelling, the bar is frozen, Brandon's forearm in Joe's rock solid grip. Magically, Frank appears on the other side, flames in his eyes, and shoves Brandon back. In a low growl, he mutters, “Get the fuck out of my bar—don't bother coming back.....EVER.”

Brandon looks like he's been bitch-slapped, shocked at the reaction of both Joe and the bartender. “I'm outta here.......but this isn't over with, Joe!” And with that he staggers to the door.

Frank goes back behind the bar, and Joe and I turn back to our drinks.

“What's up with that, Joe? How'd he know anything about you and me? And thanks for intercepting the punch; I don't think Frank would appreciate me doing a throwdown in his bar.”

He laughed.

“Brandon went to Norma Jean's Sunday night drinking and talked with that bitch that wanted to fuck me. She'd asked if I were still seeing that guy—you--and he's been calling me 3 times a day bitching and cussing about it all. I'm ok with him, though......he'll never change, and he stays too drunk to do too much.”

Ok. I don't know what to say to that, so I stay quiet for a moment.

“Joe, what other stuff you thinking? Can I help?”

He pulls out a little-boy-lost look, and looks at his drink.

In a whisper, “I love the sex. It's the other stuff, mostly the way you make me feel. Never felt like that over a guy, and it's different. Not bad, just....... different. And totally unexpected. Guess I'm wrestling over whether I'm gay or bi or.....” and his voice fades off.

“Look, Joe, you don't hafta put a label on it now or ever. As long as you're happy, I'm happy. And, if I can help ya think things through, I promise I'll try to be as honest and objective as I can.”

He looks and grins big. “I knew that, but it's great to hear ya say it. And I appreciate it. Part of what I'm wrestling with is how much I like it when you take charge. Loved it when you took over after I'd finished doing you, and I just had to take and enjoy what you were doing. I've always been the aggressor with women, so that's a BIG switch for me.”

Fuckin hot. I'd already pretty much figured that Joe was mostly bottom, and now to see a submissive side coming out—shit, it just keeps getting better and better! He's gonna discover how much of a dom top I really am.

“Want another beer? Or wanna go grab a burger across the street?”

“Aw, Rex. Why not both?” The big grin on Joe's face was back.

We ordered another round, talked about our jobs, and made general small talk. I learned more about Joe. His mom was a former elementary school teacher, retired, and was now on a walker due to her crippling rheumatoid arthritis. She had help coming in daily to keep her house clean and cook some of the meals. Joe and his sister were both supposed to help pay for that, since her teacher's pension wasn't enough, but his sis—Brandon's mom—was as much of a flake as Brandon, so it pretty much fell on Joe to cover it all. He wasn't complaining, but it explained a lot about his desperate need for a job when he first moved here. I was impressed that he was able to cover his own expenses, save, and pay for his mom's help.

Joe's dad died 20 or so years ago. Joe had a great relationship with him, and they were really close, with Joe's dad taking him out for his first “legal” beer, and hanging out in the bar together. He delivered mail back when many mailmen still walked from house to house, and was killed when a student driver lost control of the car he was training in and ran across the sidewalk hitting Joe's dad. Even worse, it was Joe's best friend's younger brother driving. Really sad—in one fell swoop, Joe lost his best friend (due to the awkward situation of best friend's brother) and lost his “best friend” dad. Joe had just started college, but quit and went to a vo-tech school so he could learn a skill, get a job quickly, and help out at home. That's where he'd learned to weld.

I had to choke back tears.

Joe looked at me, then smiled a flat smile. “Yeah, it was tough times for a while, but, if I hadn't learned to weld, I'd never have met you.” Wow. Now I really WAS about to cry.

“Let's go get burger's, buddy. I'll even pay for 'em!” Joe's grin was back.

“Let's do it. But you're coming over Saturday night to my place. I'll throw some steaks on the grill—and you need to plan on staying over. May have some other fun stuff to show ya.” I gave him a wink and evil grin.

“It's a date, Rex!”