While Trek watched, a grin building, Dan stopped short of sitting down again, beers clearly forgotten. He put both hands flat on the table as if struggling to keep his balance. “Er—uhn—”
Trek stood so abruptly his chair tipped over, landing with a clang. “Oh, for Pete’s sake, don’t tell me you’re some kind of a timid virgin or still trying to come to terms with being gay!”
“Noooo, not that. I did the second a few months before I got out of the military and took care of the other right afterward. I’m not all that experienced, but I’m no fuckin’ virgin.”
Trek had to laugh then, a great howling guffaw. “Oh, that’s just too good. Did you hear what you just said?”
“I’m no virgin…”
Obviously Dan did not get the joke. “Okay, so if you aren’t a fucking one, how about a sucking one or all the rest of the possibilities?”
“I’m not sure what ‘all the rest’ includes,” Dan said, his tone laden with caution. “I have sucked cock—more than once—and been the fucker and the fuckee both.”
Trek circled the table and grabbed Dan by both shoulders. “Enough jabber. Here, I’ll lead the way.” While he had to reach up, a fair stretch since Dan was definitely taller, it wasn’t hard to find Dan’s mouth, open as he started to protest or explain yet again. Trek took advantage of that and started a tongue duel while he administered his best start-my-fire-grade kiss. Not that Dan wasn’t close to hot enough already, if Trek read the signs correctly. Still, a bit of added encouragement never hurt.
Wandering up to see what was going on, Commando bumped against Trek’s leg to be sure he got noticed. Pulling barely clear of the ongoing kiss, Trek reassured his dog. “It’s okay, bud. You’ve seen this go down before. Later, okay?” That resolved, he went back to the oscular assault. It was hot, wet, demanding, and intended to blow right past any hesitation Dan might still harbor.
Seemed like it worked. Dan’s arms wrapped around Trek’s more slender frame and dragged him closer. So close their lower bodies almost fused together as if their mutual heat vaporized one pair of jeans and one pair of khaki Dockers. It wasn’t close enough, though. Trek edged a hand between them and pried at Dan’s belt buckle. When it slid free, he tackled the zipper. Weighted by the big rodeo-style buckle, Dan’s jeans began to sag, slipping down past his lean hips.
Oh great! He goes commando. Ex-cell-ent! In a few seconds, a large and very hard prick nestled in Trek’s hand. Dan was breathing like a winning racehorse, and his heartbeat seemed just short of earthquake strength. He moaned as Trek slid his grip in and out, holding for an instant just short of the head and then working back inward again.
“I love cocks,” Trek said, pulling back enough to gain some space in Dan’s embrace. “I want to taste this one.” As soon as he could, he dropped to his knees, sitting back on his heels to reach just the right height. He took one leisurely lick while he steadied Dan’s dark red prick in one hand. He could feel every pulse throb through it.
“Gotta sit,” Dan gasped out, “or I’ll fall on my ass.” He grabbed his chair and spun it around. Then he flopped into it. Somehow Trek managed to stay right with him.
Another lick and then Trek widened his mouth and slipped his lips past the head, drawing them tight as he went down and down and down. Then he pulled back, drawing, sucking, pulling. He knew just how that felt, and he’d never found a man who didn’t enjoy it, or fail to rise quickly to the brink of a powerful ejaculation, mostly almost too soon. He knew how to delay that final explosion too. The next time he drew back to the head, he tightened his lips even more, almost biting, and held that for at least a couple of seconds.
Dan snorted and puffed, whimpering while his fingers bit into the arms of the metal lawn chair as if he would tear them away. Trek repeated the whole process three times. By the end of the third, as he held the pinch just short of pain, Dan forced a few words out between breaths. “No…more, no—…more. Please. I gotta come. I gotta!”
This time Trek let him. Dan tasted salty, rich, distinctive, and all man. After the last contracting spasm, Trek let go and rocked back. He looked up at Dan’s contorted face as it relaxed and his eyes opened, almost as if he’d been asleep.
“Holy fuckin’ frijoles. That was some blowjob!” His words sounded almost reverent. His eyes shut again as he shook his head. “Wow.” He sucked in a huge, deep breath and let it out in a whoosh. “I’m not sure I can do that well for you, but I’ll be glad to try.”
Trek stood. “I can wait awhile. You need to get yourself back on an even keel, don’t you? There’s no hurry, at least none that I know of. When you can get back on your feet, I’ll take that next beer. No, on second thought, I expect I can find the fridge.”
He turned away and went into the house through the open patio door. By the time he returned with the two bottles, Dan had pulled his pants up and fastened them and some of the shell-shocked expression had left his face.
Trek righted his chair and sat down, twisted the cap off his beer, and took a deep swallow. Although he wasn’t in a great hurry to wash the taste of Dan out of his mouth, he had gotten dry. Actually, cum and beer didn’t go badly together.
Maybe there was a tiny little trace of nerves at work…normally he took his pleasure easy come and easy go, or make that easy cum. He hadn’t even gotten off—yet. Something about this cop felt different, though. He didn’t know whether he liked that or not.
* * * *
Getting his breathing, heartbeat, and shaky muscles under control took Dan a lot longer than it ever had before. He gratefully accepted the beer Trek shoved across to him and drank it, not in a huge gulp but swallow by swallow—all without saying a word. He really didn’t know what to say. Finally he dared a glance at the other man. Trek met his gaze, smiled and then winked.
“You’re okay, man. You just need more practice. We can work on that the next few days.”
Dan replied with a slow nod. That sounded like a fantastic idea. Although he’d have to work for several of them and sleep a little between shifts, that should leave at least eight or ten hours a day. The number of adventures possible in that time boggled his mind—even if they did do some more sightseeing. “While I’ve never been thankful for a dumb car thief before, this might be an exception. Anytime you’re ready, I think I can deliver now.” He lifted the bottle and this time drained it.
When he stood, Trek did also. “I don’t know what your neighbors are like, but even with your wall, it might be a good idea if we take this indoors.”
“You’re right,” Dan admitted. “I didn’t even think about it. There are some kids, and some of them can climb like monkeys. They’re probably not ready to see anything like this X-rated performance.”
He led the way through the kitchen and into the living room. His furniture was sparse and utilitarian: a big-screen TV on the wall, a tabletop stereo on a shelf beside it, a battered futon for a couch, and his sagging old recliner, the one he nearly lived in when he was home. One coffee table drooped under piles of magazines, newspapers, junk mail, and things he did not even want to identify—like empty fast-food containers and an assortment of cans and bottles. Shit, it looks like a pigsty, of a bachelor pig.
Trek paused, glanced around, and gave a small shrug. “Where do you want me?”
Dan had to give him credit, he didn’t seem to turn a hair at the mess, the dilapidated state. Surely he didn’t live like this—if he even had a place somewhere to light between travels.
“You can use the chair, although you may need a crane to get out of it. There are times I think I’ll have to get an engine hoist or something.”
“You can lift me,” Trek said. “I may be too undone to make it on my own.” He crossed the room and flopped down in the chair. As soon as he hit, he undid his belt and unfastened the fly of his slacks. “Hmm, maybe I ought to take these off since I don’t have anything else to wear when I leave.” He stood easily and stepped out of the khakis, tossing them on the futon. Though he did wear briefs, they were barely larger than a thong and did more to enhance than conceal his package.
Dan took a few seconds to appreciate the view before he dropped to his knees and edged closer between Trek’s spread legs. Before he could decide what to do next, Trek pushed the elastic band of his briefs down and lifted his cock and balls free of the stretchy pouch. The band then pushed them up, showcased. Truly good enough to eat, in Dan’s opinion. He started like he’d attack an ice-cream cone, lick by lick. First he took the drop of pre-cum from the slit and then ran a slow circle around the groove below the head. Trek’s grunt of approval encouraged him to explore, taste, and tantalize more.
Not until he had savored every inch of Trek’s prick and the crinkly, lightly-hair texture of his balls did Dan open his mouth and slide his lips down over the head and then as far down the shaft as he could go. He’d worked to conquer the gag reflex that had interfered with his first cock-sucking efforts. He found he’d made substantial progress. Even if Trek was no shorty, Dan was able to take most of his length. Hot, hard, pulsing with the rush of blood from each heartbeat, that fine cock definitely had a life of its own.
Dan wondered briefly what Trek called it. Every man he’d ever known had a pet name for his tool. His was his magnum, which might sound silly. Or not—he valued it right up there with his service pistol, a 9mm that held ten rounds in its oversize magazine.
Although he was not as adept or skillful as Trek in knowing just when to accelerate and when to slow things down, he gave it his best effort. Trek had been moaning for the last few pulls. Finally he grabbed Dan’s head. That’s when Dan knew the other man had reached the point where ejaculation was not only urgently desired but absolutely necessary. Trek let go with a spurt to shame a fire hose and several lesser ones in the aftershock category.
Dan finally let go and rocked back as Trek opened his eyes. They looked glazed for a moment, and a similarly shocked expression covered the rest of his face. He shook his head and then grinned. “If you consider yourself an amateur, dude, you’re closing fast on the pro stage. That was a damn fine BJ. For the first course, I’d say we have done just fine.”
Only then did Dan realize his feet and lower legs were stinging like a zillion ant bites. He’d been down for a while. He had to use his hands to help as he got up, and he noticed Trek had made no move to get out of the chair. That was probably a good sign.
Dan noticed then that dusk had fallen. He reached around Trek to turn on the one lamp that stood behind the chair. Then he realized Commando was not in the room. “Your dog isn’t a climber, is he? My wall’s five feet and there’s only the one gate. I’m surprised he’s not in here with us.”
That got Trek out of the chair in a blink. “No, I mean he’s never shown any tendency that way. I’d better go check, though.” They ran out the open patio door almost in step and scanned the yard, moving like they were on parallel tracks. No dog.
“Oh shit. Oh fuck! Where could he be? He’s on quarantine, so I’ve got to have him with me all the time.”