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    Nick Brady
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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. 

CARHOPS - 3. Chapter 3

Sunday dinner and sun tan.

CARHOPS - Chapter 3.

Please send feedback to y2kslacker@mail.com

Copyright 2017 by Nick Brady, all rights reserved.

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While we may not have understood why some people were so filled with hate and distrust, we were sure of our friendship.

After our rather serious discussion, we sat quietly for a few minutes and breathed in the cool air flowing across the creek.

Henry looked at me with a sweet expression on his face and splashed his feet in the cool water. "It's still early. You want to swim some more?"

"Yeah, that sounds good," I said. I eased into the water, slipped off my bathing suit and tossed it next to Henry. "Come on in. The water's fine."

Henry grinned, pulled off his swim shorts and joined me in the water. "Now you know, we really shouldn't be doing this."

"We're just swimming a little on a hot day. What's wrong with that?" I grinned and ran the back of my knuckles across his stomach.

"Hmm. You are the devil himself," Henry neither stopped me nor moved away. Rather, he lightly held my arm as I touched him.

I looked Henry in the eyes. I was not kidding now, I wasn't sure exactly what else I wanted to do, but I knew I wanted to feel him against me. I slid my hands around his waist and pulled him in close. He did not resist.

"Oh, Jimmy," he sighed and held me tight.

I could feel his cock begin to stiffen, and mine responded. The possibilities were many, but we just held each other tight, our chests warm in the cold water. It felt very nice to be close like this.

"Why is this so bad?" I asked softly.

"I'm afraid I'm the wrong person to ask," Henry said. "I never expected to meet someone like you."

"What are we going to do? You're the best friend I ever had. Do we have to hide from everybody?"

"I don't know," Henry shook his head, "There has to be a way."

"We'll see each other at work," I reminded him, "but is that it?"

"Except for these Sunday afternoons, I guess so."

"We don't have to be at Sparky's until two o'clock. Maybe we could do something in the morning."

"We have the time, but what would we do, and where could we do it? It's not smart to be seen together."

"There must be something. I can't really invite you over to my apartment," I admitted.

Henry looked thoughtful. "I wonder if you could come to my house. It might attract less attention."

"I wouldn't mind that at all," I said, "But I would have to ride my bike over there. Would that be safe?"

"It depends on who sees you there. The folks in my part of town are not likely to make a fuss, but I keep thinking about those guys in the pickup."

"They probably aren't going to be over there to see me. I could come in from the south road. Lots of people go that way. If I wore a long sleeve shirt and stuck my hair up under my cap, I might not attract attention."

Henry laughed. "That sounds like something out of a spy novel. Would you really do that?"

"Sure. Why not?" I smiled. "You got any other ideas?"

"Not really," Henry admitted. "But I would have to ask my father first. He might not like the idea. Not that he would object to you personally. But, you know...."

"Right. I wouldn't want to make trouble."

"I'm sorry. I wish it wasn't this way," Henry said.

"Yeah, but that's just the way it is. Let me know what your dad says."

We splashed around a little, but the mood for anything more exciting had passed. The conversation had been too serious, and sort of depressing. We parted with the understanding that we would see each other at work on Monday. I was very curious to find out what his father thought about our idea.

I got to Sparky's fifteen minutes early, and Henry arrived a few minutes later.

"You beat me today," he said. "You looking to get a raise?"

"Fat chance of that. I guess I was curious to know if you had any news."

"News?" Henry tried to look surprised.

"Did you talk to your dad?" I asked.

"I did. He had lots of questions. But I told him that we worked together and had sort of made friends. He knows that we went fishing together."

"Was he alright with that?"

"He reminded me that I needed to be careful. He is pretty well respected, being a preacher and all, but he doesn't want any trouble."

"I won't make trouble," I assured him.

"He's not worried about you," Henry said.

"Well, can I come or not?"

"I'll have to tell you where I live. I can't very well lead you there. Are you sure about this?"

"I'm sure. You're my best friend ever. I'm sure."

Henry smiled shyly and looked away. Just then a car drove around and it was my customer. I jumped up and took the order. By the time I sat back down, it seemed that the matter had been settled.

"So, where do you live?" I asked.

Henry took a deep breath and let it out. "OK. From the south road, you turn north on West Fourth street, go up six blocks, then turn west for another three. It's the little white house on the corner with a wire fence around it. There's lots of flowers in the front yard."

"What time?"

"Is nine o'clock too early?"

"Nope. That'll be fine," I agreed. "Um, what should I expect when I get there? I mean, who else will be there?"

"My mom and dad will be there for sure. They will want to meet you. And my little sister. She's always around."

"Do you think they will approve of me? I'm kind of nervous about this, to be honest."

"Oh, I think they will like you well enough," Henry smiled. "You are a nice enough boy, except that your hair is sort of unusual in my part of town."

"I can keep my hat on if that will help."

Henry laughed. "I don't think that will be necessary. We aren't that prejudiced."

"Is tomorrow too soon?"

"Tomorrow will be fine," Henry agreed. "I'll look forward to it. This should be interesting."

Another car drove through, and this one was Henry's. It would be a hot day, and probably busy.

The next morning I dressed in jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and my ball cap. I turned up the collar of my shirt and stuffed my blonde hair up under the cap and pulled it down low. I felt a little silly but thought it might be for the best. I rode out to the south road, then to West Fourth and followed Henry's instructions.

I had never been in this part of town before. Most of the houses were small, and not in great shape, although there were lots of little vegetable gardens in the yards. Henry's house was small, but painted white with a row of flowers along the front fence. It looked nice. I opened the gate, rolled my bike inside and stepped up on the porch. Before I could knock, the door opened.

"Good morning," Henry said. "Please come in."

I walked into a neatly kept living room. On the sofa were Henry's mother and father. On a side chair was a little girl who must have been his sister. They looked at me with quiet interest.

"Mom, Dad, this is my friend Jimmy. Jimmy, this is my mother Eunice, my father Horace, and my sister Penelope."

Henry's father stood and extended his hand. "It's very nice to meet you Jimmy. Henry tells us that the two of you work together. You are very welcome here."

His mother smiled. "Henry has told us that you both like to fish. I'm pleased that you could come to meet us."

I remembered my manners and removed my cap, revealing a shock of curly blonde hair. "It's very nice to meet you both, and you too, Penelope."

"Please sit down," Eunice said. "May I offer you some lemonade?"

"Yes, ma'am," I sat in the only other chair in the room.

I was offered a tall glass of cold lemonade and a plate of cookies. I took them politely. This was not quite what I had expected. These were very nice people.

"Um. I understand that you are a minister," I tried to make conversation.

Horace nodded, "Yes. I am pastor of the One Way Baptist Church. We have a fine congregation in our part of town. May I ask if you are a believer?"

"Yes sir. My mother and I attend St. Mark's Episcopal Church."

"I believe I have met your priest. That would be Father Williams, is that right?"

"Yes sir," I wished now that I could claim to be more faithful."

"We may disagree on some points of theology, but I know Father Williams to be a good man."

I nodded agreeably, "He's a nice guy. For sure."

"Did Henry tell me that you two are the same age, and in the same grade in school?" Eunice asked.

"Yes, ma'am, that's right," I responded, very aware that although we were in the same grade, we were not in the same school.

Penelope spoke for the first time. "Sometimes I go fishing with Henry too," she said shyly.

"I bet you're better at it than I am," I admitted.

"Sometimes I catch some fish, but Henry has to put the worms on my hook," she made a little face. "They're yucky."

Here was someone I might make conversation with. "Can you clean your fish when you catch them?"

"No! Henry does that, or my daddy."

That brought laughter from all of us. I began to feel a little more comfortable.

"Sometimes we all go fishing," Henry explained. "I'm sorry my brothers aren't here so you can meet them."

"They are on a mission trip to Guatemala," Horace explained proudly.

I sipped my lemonade as the conversation lapsed into an awkward pause.

"Could I show Jimmy my room?" Henry asked, breaking the silence.

"Of course," Horace said. We stood and escaped to Henry's bedroom.

It was a small room with a set of bunk beds on one side, and a single bed on the other. "We have three bedrooms," Henry explained. "Me and my brothers sleep in here and Penelope has a little room of her own. My folks don't think boys and girls should share a bedroom."

"You have a real nice family," I told him.

"Thank you. I like them," Henry said with a grin. "I wish I could meet your family."

"There's not much to meet," I shrugged. "It's just me and my mom."

"Where's your father?" Henry asked gently.

"I don't really know," I lied.

"What happened to him?"

I always hated this question. I had to be honest with Henry.

"The truth is, he's dead," I admitted. "He was an alcoholic. When my mother divorced him, he moved out to California and when I was eleven, we got word that he was killed in a hit and run accident in Los Angeles. He sort of wandered out into the street and a car hit him. We figure he was drunk."

"Oh. I'm so sorry," Henry said sincerely. "I shouldn't have asked."

"It's alright. I really didn't know him. The last time I saw him I was only four and I barely remember it."

"I think I'm lucky," Henry said. "I know a lot of kids who have a single mother. That must be tough."

"It's just the way it is. I guess you don't miss what you never had," I said honestly.

We sat and talked for a little while then Henry's mom tapped at the door. "Would you boys like some lunch?"

I was always ready for lunch. We sat at their kitchen to table to feast on fried catfish, cornbread and green beans. "The beans are out of our garden," Penelope informed me.

"This is great," I said honestly.

"Henry caught the fish," Eunice said. "I'm glad you like them."

I began to see one of the reasons Henry was so keen on his fishing. "Thank you very much for the lunch," I said. "It's really nice to meet all of you."

"It was nice to meet you, Jimmy. You are welcome anytime," Horace said sincerely.

After a few pleasantries, I excused myself and rode back home the way I came, and went back to our apartment before time for work.

"Where have you been?" Mom asked.

"I ate lunch with Henry," I told her honestly.

"You went to his house?" Mom did not look pleased. "You need to be careful about that sort of thing. You know how some people are."

"Gee Mom. His father is a preacher, and his family is really nice. Henry is my friend."

"It's enough that you work with that boy, but you don't need to be going to his house. You might not care, but I have to live in this town."

"You don't even know Henry. If you met him and his family, you would see how nice they are. That's not fair," I protested.

"It may not be fair, but that's the way things are. You need to think about what you're doing Jimmy."

I knew not to argue with my mother, but I sure didn't like her attitude. It darn sure wasn't fair of her to judge these good people without even meeting them.

"Why don't you come out to Sparky's sometime and meet Henry? They have good food," I suggested.

"And plenty of cold beer too," she said. "You know how I feel about drinking."

Further discussion was futile. I was getting mad and knew enough to keep my mouth shut. "Yes, ma'am."

I was almost late for work. Henry was sitting in his chair when I got there.

"Hey, Jimmy. My folks really liked you. I guess they didn't know what to expect. I'm really glad you came over."

"I am too," I said. "I think your family is awesome."

"Thanks," Henry looked pleased. "I bet your mom is nice too."

I didn't quite know what to say. Mom was nice, but she was too concerned about what some people might think as far as I was concerned. It was clear that inviting Henry to my place wasn't going to happen.

We got busy and I was relieved that I didn't have to say anything more about our respective families. This whole thing was beginning to bother me.

The week went by, and on Saturday we agreed to meet at the creek again. We would fish, and maybe go swimming. Mom worked at the restaurant Sunday afternoons so I could get away without saying anything. I did go to church with her though. If I saw his folks again, at least I could be honest about that.

After church, I shook hands with Father Williams on the way out. "Could I speak to you for a moment?" I asked him.

"Of course, Jimmy. Can you meet me in my office in a few minutes?"

After he had greeted the church people, the young priest joined me in his office and shut the door. "What's on your mind, Jimmy?"

"Well sir, I am sort of confused about something. I work out at Sparky's with a guy named Henry. He's a colored boy and a really nice guy. We went fishing together a couple of times and last week I went to his house and met his family. His father is the pastor of the One Way church over there and said he knew you. They are really nice people, but now my mom is kind of mad at me because I went over there. I guess she's afraid of what people think," I spilled out my concern rapidly. "I'd like to be friends with Henry, but I don't know what to do."

Father Williams sat back in his chair and looked sympathetic. "I think I understand," he said thoughtfully. "I know that your mother is not an unkind person, but I think she is concerned for you. Unfortunately, there are people here who are not so kind."

"But what should I do? Henry is my best friend."

"I know Henry's father, and he is indeed a good man. Your judgment of these people is correct, and it was generous of them to welcome you into their home. I recall that Jesus instructed us to love one another. In another time and another place, there would be no problem, but I also see that your mother's concern may have some basis. If you wish to be friends with this boy, then I commend you. I would not suggest that you fail to honor his friendship but I would advise you to be careful. Sometimes we must take risks when we do what we know is right. Henry and his family have done that by inviting you into their home. Perhaps you can do no less."

I left the church feeling somewhat reassured. It would be wrong to deny my friendship with Henry. It would also be foolish to be too obvious about it. Henry understood this, and now, I understood it better.

When I got to the creek, I didn't see Henry, so parked my bike under some bushes and walked downstream to our swimming place. He was waiting for me.

"I didn't see your bike," I said. "I thought I beat you here."

"If you didn't see it, I guess I did a good job of hiding it," he replied.

"I guess you did. Where's your fishing stuff?"

Henry pointed back up the creek. "I put stink bait on the hooks and laid them on the bottom just above the bridge," he said. "I'm hoping to catch some catfish."

"I hope you do. That fish your mom fixed was super."

"She does a good job on that," Henry smiled.

"She does. But I guess this means we aren't going to be fishing. You want to swim?" I asked.

"I thought maybe I'd work on my suntan," he grinned.

"You got a good head start on that," I laughed.

"You might tan up a little. Or do you just turn red and peel off?"

"I can tan some, but I have to be careful. I burn pretty easy," I admitted.

Henry looked at me. "You can't do it with your clothes on."

I hesitated and Henry started to pull off his jeans and T-shirt, then his shorts. He was naked, and still looking at me. I took the hint.

When I was naked I asked him, "We getting in the water?"

"Can't work on your tan when you're under water. Maybe we should stretch out here in the sun," he suggested.

It occurred to me that he might have a good idea. I spread out my towel and laid back. The sun felt good. I looked over at Henry. He was sitting close to me, cross-legged and with a funny look on his face.

"You look nice," I said.

"So do you. I never really got to see you all over before."

"We got naked when we swam," I reminded him. "We saw each other then."

"Yeah, and we were naked in the water too, but I didn't really get to look at you. You look real good Jimmy."

I could feel my cock begin to swell. Henry was getting hard and he hadn't even touched himself. Without thinking, I reached down, pulled on myself and shivered. I felt short of breath again. Henry touched my thigh.

"I never saw a white guy naked before. It makes me feel..., funny. You know?"

"Is it just because I'm white?"

"No, I didn't mean it like that," Henry looked concerned. "I don't want you to take it that way. I just mean, like this is something dangerous, you know? Maybe it's hard for you to understand."

"Maybe I don't," I said honestly.

"I'm sorry. That came out wrong. I mean I never felt this way about anybody else, and here you are a white guy. I shouldn't even be talking to you, and here we are naked together, and I'm feeling these things about you," Henry was struggling for words.

I was getting the idea. "What kind of things?"

"I just want to touch you, touch you all over and make you feel good," he looked away. "That sounds so stupid, I'm sorry. I'm making a fool of myself."

I looked at Henry. He looked scared. "I think I understand. You're different. I'm different. I never saw a colored guy naked before. You're right. This is kind of scary."

"So you know what I'm feeling?" Henry looked hopeful.

I took a deep breath. "What I want to do, Henry, is to feel you against me like when we were in the water. I want to do things with you. You know, like we did before. I really want to do that. But this is all so complicated."

I sat up and touched Henry's shoulder. "I've always wanted to do stuff with some guy. I don't guess I really cared who it was, I just wanted to do it. Listen, Henry. I don't care what color you are. It really doesn't make any difference to me. Maybe it makes a difference to those jerks in the pickup truck, maybe it makes a difference to my mother, but it doesn't matter to me. Do you understand that?"

"It makes a difference to your mother?"

"I think maybe she's scared too. It's not personal."

Henry nodded.

I tried to explain. "I like you, Henry. I like you a lot. You're not just some guy. I think you're the best friend I ever had. I think what I want, is for us to just shut up and do what we both want to do. Does that make sense?"

Henry smiled. "Yeah, maybe that makes a lot of sense. Oh, Jimmy. What am I going to do about you?"

"Well, you might come and lie on top of me to keep the sun off. I might get a sunburn, you know?"

Henry started to speak, then decided not to. He stretched out over the length of me and took me in his arms. I held him close. I could feel his cock pressing against me and I liked it a lot.

I pushed my face into his shoulder and sighed, "Please do those things. Those things you want to do. OK?"

Henry took my face in his hands and stared into my eyes. Then he closed his eyes and kissed me. I had never kissed anybody before – not a girl, certainly not a guy. I took a breath and kissed him back. We lay like that, our lips pressed together. It was scary. We didn't really know what we were doing, but it felt right. Nothing had ever felt so right before.

After a minute, Henry raised himself up and sat down across my hips. We were both so hard! He put his hands on my chest and rubbed them back and forth, up and down. It felt nice. I raised up and kissed him again, then pushed him away.

"Stand up. I want to see you," I told him. "I want to really look at you. You look good, Henry."

Henry stood in front of me. I got on my knees and took hold of his erect penis. I pulled his foreskin down and looked close. His cock was black. The head of his cock was kind of a pinkish brown. There was a drop of clear fluid at the tip of it. I licked it off and looked at him again. His pubic hair was black and very curly. I pulled the skin back up until it puckered over the end and stuck my tongue inside. I opened my mouth wide and tried to get all of him inside. It made me cough.

"Careful," he said. He put his hands on my head to steady himself.

I tried again. This time, I took as much of him in my mouth as I could then pulled down on his cock. The skin stretched down tight so that the head was exposed. I felt it with my tongue. I could feel the long tube that ran down the bottom, the hard ridge of his cock head inside my mouth. I cupped his balls in my hand and lifted them inside the loose skin of his scrotum. I could feel a few stiff hairs that sprouted from them. When I moved my head, I could feel his cock move inside my mouth. Henry gave a little cry.

"Am I hurting you?" I looked up at him.

"No. No, that feels very nice." He was breathing heavily.

"I like doing that," I said, a little surprised that I found it so pleasant.

Henry's eyes were wide. "Lie down," he told me.

I lay back on my towel and looked up at him. He looked very strong, so dark and smooth, his chest and arms were muscular, his hips were narrow. He was going to be a handsome man when he got bigger. I thought he was beautiful.

Henry knelt down over me and ran his hands over my body, stopping to run his fingers through my blonde pubic hair. He took my cock in his hand and pulled the loose skin up and down, exposing the pink head, then covering it up. It was wet and slick with the clear ooze that the motion squeezed out. He licked at it, tasting it. Then he looked into my eyes and took me in his mouth.

I was not as long as he was and he was able to take all of me into his mouth. I could feel his tongue caressing me, and the warm wet feel of his throat and lips. He moved up and down a few times, then pressed his nose into my pubic hair and took a deep breath.

"Do I smell?" I asked distractedly.

Henry smiled. "I think you smell nice. Do you like this play?"

"Oh yeah. This is great. Do you?"

"I like giving you pleasure. Is that strange?"

"No," I said. "I was about to say the same thing. This is very nice, better than in the water."

Henry laughed. "We're different, aren't we?"

I nodded. "I think so." I sighed. "I've always wanted to do this with someone. I'm so glad it's with you."

"What are we going to do, Jimmy?"

I sighed, "I don't know. Can we talk about that later? I want to play some more, you know?"

"I think maybe I talk too much," Henry said quietly.

"Let's talk later," I said, and put my hand on his cheek. "I think we can both do this. Turn around."

We lay side by side, back to front, and began to suck each other. It was a little awkward until we found the right position, then it was really great. It didn't take very long and we were both ready.

"Is it OK if I cum in your mouth?" I asked.

"I don't care. Will you let me?" Henry responded.

"I will if you will," I grinned.

With no more discussion, we fed on each other. It was great.

We lay still for several minutes. We had worked up a sweat. "Want to swim?" I asked.

Henry started to laugh. "We're both crazy. Do you know that?"

"I know," I said, got up and jumped into the cold water. Henry was right behind me.


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To be continued.

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Nick Brady, 2017
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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. 
You are not currently following this author. Be sure to follow to keep up to date with new stories they post.

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Jimmy is extremely lucky that his mother attends an Episcopal Church rather than one that’s Southern Baptist or Methodist. Most Episcopal Churches are Progressive, but most evangelical churches (including Baptists and Methodists) are very conservative. The Baptist and Methodist Churches both split over the issue of Slavery, that’s why there are separate Baptist & Southern Baptist and separate Free Methodist & Methodist Churches (the first of each pair opposed slavery).

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