THE LONG WAY HOME
by Everett Marx
(This story began with "Up The Waterfall," also available here at hamster.com.)
“How will I get home now?”
The bearded guy laughed. He stood up and said, “I think we can arrange something.”
I spun around looking for his friend, who I had assumed was still down in the boat. But he wasn’t. He was leaning against a tree, cupping his crotch through his bathing suit. Squeezing.
“How far away you live?” he said.
“Corinth,” I said.
“That’s some drive,” he said. “I think I’ll need a nap first.”
The bearded guy laughed again. “Looks like we got ourselves a cabin boy, Jake.”
“For an hour or so,” Jake said. He turned and walked back down the path beside the waterfall.
We followed wordlessly.
The cabin was secluded, old but the windows were spotless. Inside, there were cases of beer, a stereo console like my mom and dad used to have, and the biggest bed I’d ever seen. The mattresses were so thick, the top of the bed seemed four feet off the floor.
Jake made me nervous. He had a severe haircut and cold look when he bothered to look my way.
The bearded guy, larger and broader, hummed his way to the stereo, put on Elton John’s “Saturday Night’s Allright For Fighting” and cranked it.
“I-um-I guess I should be getting home,” I said.
“Still have a beer buzz,” Jake said. “Not safe to drive just yet.”
The bearded guy looked at him. “Not a car, anyway.”
Jake flashed a wicked smile.
The bearded guy jumped onto the bed, landing on his back, legs slightly spread.
I had never seen shorts like that. They were regular blue jean shorts, faded as hell, but there was no inseam—when he lay back like that, it was like I was looking up a skirt. Only I was seeing dick, not panties.
“Like a duck to water, this one,” Jake said.
“Huh?” I realized I must be staring again.
“Come closer, took a good look,” the bearded guy said, laughing. There was no menace to him and I liked him, trusted him, knew he was the one who might save me from whatever Jake had on his mind.
Behind me, I heard a beer can open. I heard Jake gulp. I keep staring at the bearded guy’s cock.
I’d never studied a cock before. I’d seen my own plenty, but that was my own. The bearded guy’s was different. Bigger, of course, but, well, an object, something to contemplate.
“You gonna memorize it or suck it?” Jake asked.
“Suck—oh, I never—I just—I just never saw one like that before, that’s all.”
Jake eased closer and nudged me forward with a shoulder. “Get an eyeful, then.”
Jake nudged me to the foot of the bed and I pitched forward, landing on my elbows and knees.
“Take all the time you need,” the bearded guy said. “Cocks are lovely things to behold.”
“And just plain hold,” Jake said. “Give it a squeeze, and don’t tell us you don’t want to.”
I couldn’t deny that I wanted to hold it. I was less horny than mesmerized. My whole world had shifted in the last half hour and I didn’t have my sea legs yet.
I took it in my hand, peeled back a pubic hair that was sticking to the shaft, and gave it a kiss.
I wasn’t prepared for the taste. I didn’t know what to expect. I hadn’t really expected anything, I guess. I was in what an hour before was no-man’s land to me. Suddenly it seemed like home.
The bearded guy cupped the back of my head with a hand and coaxed me back and forth, sucking him bit by bit more into my mouth.
Jake patted my ass. “Thata boy.”
“I’m his first cock,” the bearded guy said, beaming. “He’ll be jacking off thinking of this sweet dick for the rest of his life!”
Jake put his hand on my ass again. I still had my cut-off jeans on but wondered how long they would stay that way. I was anxious, almost numb in a way, yet hyper sensitive and increasingly horny. Naughty images raced through my head. Most were from straight porn I’d seen. In a flash of insight, I realized I was ‘the slut in the middle.’
I nearly came from the joy of saying that to myself: “I’m the slut in the middle, between two big dicks.” I hadn’t seen Jake’s yet but from the porn I had seen, it was natural to assume that all cocks other than my own were massive.
“You ever have a girlfriend?” the bearded guy asked.
“O, yeah, sure. Not a lot. A couple.”
They both laughed.
“Tell me this,” the bearded guy said. “You play with yourself more than you play with herself?”
“Yeah, I guess so, but that’s only because—”
“It’s because you’re more into dick than pussy, that’s why. Thinking about her was just an excuse to touch a dick. Now I’m giving you another reason to touch one. So have at it.”
I closed my eyes and swallowed him. Gagged a time or two but was soon sucking in earnest, kissing the bearded guy’s balls at the end of every inhalation of his thickening cock.
Who were these guys? Strangers, older, and yet right here, right now, they were the only people on Earth who knew me, the real me, the me I was just now meeting myself.
Jake unbuttoned my pants and pulled them down around my knees.
“Fuck,” the bearded guy said, moaning. “This k**’s got talent. Yeah, suck that dick good.”
Jake ran his open palm along the crack of ass. I collapsed onto my belly on the bed. It was too intense. How I kept from cumming I’ll never know. It was electric, mind altering.
“Jesus, he’s got me about to cum,” the bearded guy said.
“Hold off,” said Jake.
I heard him make a sucking sound and soon knew he’d licked a finger. He touched it to my ass and I wanted to freeze forever in that second of perfect ecstasy.
“Jesus, Jesus, Jesus,” I moaned.
Jake laughed. “Jesus is a long way from here,” he said. “Though this might feel like a crucifixion at first, you’ll rise in heaven.”
The bearded guy laughed. I cupped his balls, tugged them. Kept sucking hard and deep.
Jake’s cockhead bobbed against my ass.
“Fuck,” I moaned. “O fuck me.”
Jake laughed. “You’re too tight to fuck yet, but I can give you enough you’ll never forget it.”
He did and I haven’t.