Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Boy Story: The Road Taken - 9. A Change of Plans
A Change of Plans
I awoke Saturday morning to the best alarm clock ever, the feeling of being sucked off. Bless his little heart, Parker was at work again. He seemed more interested in getting me off than I was. That’s always a huge plus when you’re a guy. After a few minutes, he had my hips pumping and both of us moaning. I warned him that the dam was about to burst, but he stayed on me and increased the suction. I exploded into his mouth and then lay there trying to catch my breath again. He opened his mouth to display my output and quickly dispatched any evidence of our recent activity in one dramatic gulp.
He finally looked up at me and said, “Sorry, I just couldn’t wait any longer. I was awake and your big dick was calling out to me.”
“Yeah, I know. It does that from time to time,” I joked regaining my ability to speak. “Did you get what you wanted from it?”
“Yes, and then some. Do you always come so much?”
“I don’t know. Did it seem like a lot?” I asked.
“Well, I’ll never have to ask if you came,” he joked.
After a minute of silence, I asked “Do you like the taste of it? I mean, in general.”
“What? Cum? Well yeah. I suppose it’s an acquired taste, but I’ve grown to really enjoy it,” he replied.
“But what is it about the taste that you like,” I asked.
“I dunno. It’s kinda tasteless mostly, maybe a little salty and sometimes a little sweet, and the consistency is a bit like snot. It even tastes a little like bleach sometimes,” he explained.
“Mmmm—a salty loogie with a helping of bleach.”
“I know that makes it sound distasteful, but it's not really. You’ve tried it before, I mean, your own, right?” he inquired.
“No, never,” I replied.
“Really?”
“I dunno, it seems that would be like incest or something,” I explained.
“Ha ha, that’s funny. I never thought about it that way before. I see it as the reward I get for a job well done, although I enjoy sucking on its own. I guess I’m just a typical queer,” he said.
“Hey, that’s cool with me. Hopefully, I can be your new supplier,” I joked.
“Does that mean I’ll get a return engagement?” he asked.
“We’ll see.”
Now of course we were going to have a return engagement. I wouldn’t want it any other way, but I needed to play a little hard to get. I didn’t want to give him the keys to the castle just yet.
That’s when my stomach let out a loud growl, so I followed it up with, “No more yanky my wanky, the Donger need food!”
“Ha ha ha. I LOVE that film!” he shot back. “Well, let me go to the kitchen to see what I can rustle up.” He gently patted my stomach as he slid out of bed, put on his boxers and a T-shirt, and struck out in search of food.
“This boy is a keeper,” I thought to myself, especially after picking up on the line from one of my favorite movies. I lay back down, closed my eyes, and must have drifted back to sleep.
The door to the room opened and interrupted my slumber. “Uh, there’s been a change in plans,” Parker said.
“Do you want to go out for breakfast, then?” I offered.
“No, you might want to be sitting down for this one.”
“I am sitting down, Parker. I’m in bed.”
“Oh yeah. Then maybe I should be sitting,” he said as he plopped himself down next to me.
After a short sigh, he then explained the “change in plans.”
“So I went to raid the fridge and my mother scares the crap out of me. I didn’t see her standing behind me when I went to the fridge. She had the waffle iron out on the counter and she was messing around with it. She said she found pre-made waffle mix when she was out shopping, so she’s going to make waffles for breakfast. That waffle iron has sat on the kitchen counter unused for years. Then she asks me how many waffles I want and I said ‘One…no, two!’
And then she says, ‘And how many will your guest be having?’
‘My guest?’ I asked her.
‘Yes, the one you were wrapped around this morning,’ she said.
‘Oh, you know about that?’ I asked.
‘Uh huh.’
Apparently she washed and folded a load of laundry and went in my room early this morning to drop them on my bureau. She said what she saw in bed looked like one body with two heads; one was her son and the other was not.”
“Oh no!” I groaned.
“Oh yes!” he replied. “And to make matters worse, my boner hadn’t completely deflated in my boxers during that whole encounter. I don’t think she noticed that though.”
“Is she pissed?” I asked.
“Surprisingly, no. She said she was not mad, just…disappointed in me. Aaaaaand she wants to meet my guest.”
“Oh fuck!” I choked out.
“Well, the good news is she seems to be in a pretty chipper mood…considering. I think she was mostly glad it wasn’t my ex, and she just wants to meet you.”
“Oh fuck. She’s gonna chew me out for corrupting her underage son and then she could have me arrested! Oh fuck!” I exclaimed as my thoughts ran wild.
“No, no, she would never do that because I would never speak to her again. And she knows that. Just come out there with me. I’ll back you up. I’ll explain to her that it’s all my fault. Anyway, I think the legal age of consent in this state is 16.”
“Oh man, I must look like hell and now I’ve gotta meet your mother,” I worried.
“No, you look really cute with your hair all messed up like that,” he replied. “Here just put your underwear on and you can wear my nice terrycloth bathrobe.” He walked over to get my underwear. And just before flinging them to me, he pretended to sniff them to get me to laugh. It worked, but I still had a huge knot in my stomach.
“I promise to make it right. I'll accept full responsibility,” he added.
I put the robe on and he said, “OK, you ready?”
“Not really,” I managed to chirp out.
So he gripped onto my robed arm, and we slowly walked together down the hall toward the kitchen. I felt like we were in the scene from The Wizard of Oz when they go arm in arm down the long hallway to meet the wizard. I only hoped that this was not going to be as frightening…and we wouldn’t have to kill a witch.
x
It's not just life imitating art, it's life incorporating art.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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