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    Rip Skor
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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 - 18. Mr. Bubble & Me

Mr. Bubble & Me

 

When we arrived back at the homestead, there was a note on the kitchen table that read: “I hope you two had a great time. I went over to Helen & John's house for dinner with Bill. I’ll be staying over Bill’s place tonight. Wish me luck. Mom.”

“OK, Parker, fill me in.”

“Oh, Helen is my mom’s sister and John is her husband. They’re my aunt and uncle. They haven’t met Bill before, so this must be THE night.”

“Wish her luck? Sounds like your mom’s looking to get lucky tonight,” I added.

“I don’t think she means it that way. I think she means wish her luck that they like Bill, that’s all. Otherwise, that would be gross.”

Then Parker said, “I’ll be right back” and disappeared out of the room. So I sat on the couch, closed my eyes, and put my head back. He silently returned and whispered in my ear, “Are you sleeping?”

Taking a phrase my grandmother used, I said, “I wasn’t sleeping, I was just resting my eyes.”

We cuddled on the couch for a few minutes and Parker said, “Here, come with me. Now I have a surprise for YOU!” I was too relaxed to do anything but follow him. He led me to his mother’s bedroom and into her bathroom. I never had a reason to be in this part of the house before. She had the master suite and private bathroom. There in front of me was a 2-person Jacuzzi tub filling with hot water and bubbles—a bubble bath! We stripped and attempted to enter the tub, but it was much too hot. Parker changed the running water to cold to even it out, but it would take some time.

“You don’t mind standing here naked for a minute or two, do you? Because I certainly don’t mind it,” he said looking me up and down with a sly grin on his face. While he spoke, he also made his eyebrows go up and down making us both laugh.

Standing there fully unclad while having Parker ogle me had a familiar side effect. “Look what you’ve done,” I said looking down at my soldier steadily rising to attention.

“Whattya mean,” he replied, “that's the best part. I need a place to hang my towel.” He hung it on me then giggled as I tipped down from the weight.

“Well, you can’t say I’m not helpful,” I said as I stood there looking like a coat hook.

I then tested the water—still hot, but tolerable. I got in, trying not to boil my nuts in the process. And then Parker slowly worked his way in even though he announced it was still a little on the hot side.

We ended up sitting at opposite ends of the tub smiling at each other, when I finally said, “What are you doing way over there?”

“Well it’s a 2-person tub,” he replied. “And there are 2 people in the tub, right?”

“Are there any rules against WHERE you sit?" I asked.

“What are you suggesting?” he responded.

“Don’t they still teach Geometry in high school?"

“Gee, and I never thought I would have a use for that in real life,” he said as he slid himself over to my side. I spread my bent knees and had him sit between them right in front of me. I leaned forward and held him placing my face against his upper back and my lips against his neck. He purred his approval.

“Matt?”

“Hmm?”

“If I go to college in the fall, can we be roommates…you know, like in the dorm?”

This took me by surprise. I hadn’t even thought about that possibility, although it would certainly be a sound remedy for us missing each other. We’d be able to sleep together every night and be with each other as much as we could stand.

“Do you think you’ll be able to put up with me around the clock?” I said gently in the vicinity of his ear.

“Mmmm, it will be tough, but I’ll just concentrate on your finer points,” he joked.

“Well, that should keep you plenty busy,” I teased. “Parker, I would love to be your roommate.”

“Great! Now would you mind doing my back?” he asked producing a bar of soap.

I laughed from the sudden change in topic that was pure Parker. Every so often he wasted no time explaining what was just said. He would simply move on to the next topic. You just had to keep on your toes when it happened and follow him. We were discussing living together in the dorm (which is a discussion that could take hours) and then he simply asked me to wash his back. It was like he sometimes had so many things swirling around in his head fighting to come out, there was no time to filter it.

As I began to feel the warmth and smoothness of his back under my soapy hands, I began to think about next semester. If Parker was going to be my roommate next school year, I’d need to settle things with Joe. I had no problems with Joe. He was a good roommate and had become a trusted friend. I wanted us to remain good friends, but I wanted Parker to be in my dorm room…and my bed. How to get both accomplished without alienating Joe was my challenge.

The one thing that could really throw a wrench into the whole scheme was if Parker and I broke up between now and the start of school. Unthinkable at this time, but things can sometimes change on a dime. We didn't know each other that well, so could there be a deal breaker that would surface one day? Then all of a sudden you are a dorm mate for at least one semester with your ex.

As I checked through my options mentally, I eventually led the soap bar to Parker’s arms, and he held out each one for me to clean. I soaped my hands and washed his hands cleaning each and every finger and finally intertwining our fingers. He suddenly spun his body around and he was on me, breaking me from my thoughts about the dorm situation. Our mouths found one another as the waves he created splashed against us. The kissing continued for an eternity. Then his hand eventually found me, and my response was immediate. My world was suddenly awash in water, bubbles, tongues, soapy body parts, and one determined hand.

After several minutes of wet fun, Parker exclaimed, “Darn, the water’s starting to cool, we should get out now and move to the bedroom,” he said as he flipped the drain latch with his big toe. He got onto his knees in the tub, stood up, and helped me up. He handed me a towel, and we both stood on the bathroom rug drying each other.

“C’mon,” he said hanging up the towels. He grabbed hold of my lever and led me like a dog on a leash to his bedroom and pushed me down on his bed. I was slowly learning that when he wanted something that benefitted both of us, you simply let him have it.

His mouth locked onto my hardness sending me to that place that only he could. Then out of nowhere his lips suddenly locked onto mine. He was like a sexual fun house. I never knew exactly where it was going, but a happy ending was guaranteed. We kissed and kissed until my mouth was sore, and we kissed some more.

He flipped himself around so he was in the 69 position above me. This is another one of those positions that seems good in theory, but not always in practice. The top person has decent access to the bottom person’s member, but in order for the bottom person to gain access to the top person’s member, which is surely erect by now, that erect member has to be forced down. Ouch! Fortunately, it does seem to work better when lying sideways.

Once he realized the futility of our current positioning, Parker slid his body between my knees. I noticed a light to my left and I looked to see it was the 2:19 a.m. shining on his alarm clock. He continued to use his mouth for a short time and then went for his nightstand drawer. The tube came out, my boner got lubed, his ass got lubed, and he sat down on me. He immediately sat all the way down on me and groaned slightly as I filled his cavity.

“Wow, you took it all,” I commented. “How do you feel?”

“Like a fucking shish-ke-bab,” he groaned. “Thankfully you aren’t any bigger or you’d be bruising my spleen.”

He sat motionless at first to get himself used to the fit, but then started to raise and lower himself a little at a time.

“Didn’t you say this position was the cowboy?” I asked.

“No, cow–girl!” he corrected me.

“Oh, so you must be the girl.”

“Yeah, I'm your little bitch!” he joked.

He rode me like a pogo stick while we both filled the air with involuntary moans and sentence fragments. “Oh, fuck...Fuck me...Harder...Oh shit,” and so forth.

We flipped into the missionary position and I began folding him in half with his ankles on either side of my ears. I gripped his calves, leaned forward and CRACK!

I not only heard it, but I felt the shockwave against my body.

“Holy shit! What was that?” I questioned.

“I don’t know. I think my back just cracked,” he tried.

“Are you OK?”

“Yeah, it’s like when you crack your knuckles...only louder,” he explained.

“Do want me to stop?” I asked.

“Fuck no, it’s just getting good now that I'm loosened up!”

Well, he did have a point because when I went back to work, that cracking of his back seemed to have somehow opened him up. I was able to enter and exit without much effort and I could see him stroking his meat in rhythm to my thrusting.

“Oh, that feels so good! Fuck me deeper!” he cried out as I continued the onslaught.

I leaned forward so that I could kiss and pump into him at the same time. We parted our lips periodically to take a breather, but I continued the pumping. That’s when he started quietly talking dirty into my left ear which had been hovering in proximity to his mouth. It was a stream of consciousness string of the filthiest verbiage I had ever heard in my life. The language was so uncharacteristic of Parker that I wasn’t sure what to do. My dick had never caused a person to speak in tongues before, though it was very much in English. It was such a turn on that I had no reason to complain. I felt like a musician playing an instrument. My dick was the bow, Parker was my instrument, and the filth emanating from him was the music.

He suddenly bucked and erupted all over his stomach area. That’s all that was needed to set me off, and I filled him with my creamy goodness.

We both lay there breathing heavily. While waiting for my heart rate to return to normal, I again glanced at the lighted alarm clock and it read 2:57 a.m.

I whispered, “Fuck. That was quite an experience."

There was a period of silence. “Don’t mind me, I’m speechless,” he whispered back.

Now it was time to wash up. When Ginny was home, the path to the bathroom had become a little like running a gauntlet. Fortunately, that night she was staying over Bill's house, and we had the place to ourselves. That was a welcome relief.

Once we had both washed up, we got back into bed and found that position where we both fit together like the pieces of a two-piece puzzle. I said, “Goodnight Parker,” and I kissed him gently on the back of his neck as I often would.

He just melted into me and hummed his response, “Mmmmmmm.”

Before I drifted off, I heard him whisper, “Matt, are you still awake?”

“I think so. Let me check,” I teased.

“Well, you were right,” and he paused for a moment. I racked my brain to recall what I was right about...I mean, there were so many things. Where would I start?

NOW this has been the best night of my life,” he said as he grabbed my arms and pulled them around him tighter.

Technically it was morning, but who was keeping score? He was right—for the both of us.

x

x

x

“Happiness is a gift and the trick is not to expect it, but to delight in it when it comes.”
-Charles Dickens
© 2014 Rip Skor
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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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