Jock Auction (15 page)

Nothing. For the twentieth time, nothing.

Somehow I resisted the urge, near overwhelming, to punch out another text, to tell him again how sorry I was, to ask him to see me as the dumb, confused, horny teenage screwup who required getting things so incredibly wrong to realize what he should’ve done right. But how do you put that down in a little over a hundred characters?

Or I could call Louis. I hadn’t spoken to him since, well, since we fucked, and the knowledge of what we’d done hung over me like a noxious cloud. And yet…if anybody

was going to understand, it would be him, surely?

I stared at his number for a long while, the backlight of the screen going out a

couple of times as I tried to decide what to do. In the end I stabbed the Call button and jammed the phone against my ear, hugged my other arm around my chest against the

cold.

“Hello?”

I took a deep breath. “Hey, Louis…it’s Kyle.”

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He chuckled, that rich, burbling sound I’d somehow grown so familiar with.

“Hey, Kyle, long time no speak, my friend.”

I wasn’t sure what to say, the silence loading up. Nothing but the hiss of

background static.

“Look, I…I really need to talk to someone,” I eventually stuttered. “I really need to talk to you.”

“Sure, dude.” Should I tell him this wasn’t a sex call? That I wasn’t calling him

with getting naked in mind?

I’d somehow made my way back to where I’d parked my car. “Can I drive over?”

I asked him.

“Of course, yeah,” he told me.

It didn’t take me long to get to Louis’s house, but I couldn’t bring myself to get out and ring the doorbell, make small talk with his parents, try to explain why I was

visiting him in the middle of the night when, as far as they knew at least, we’d never hung out before. I called him again instead and told him I was parked outside.

A minute later he was closing the screen door behind himself and zipping up his

jacket as he walked down the path toward the car. I tried not to grip the wheel until my knuckles were white, but it was tough.

Louis slid into the seat next to me, rubbed his hands briskly.

“Jeez, it’s freezing out there.” He looked across, maybe trying to gauge my mood

some.

I couldn’t meet his stare, just stayed gazing ahead out at the darkened street.

“Kyle, dude, talk to me.”

I let my head fall forward, closed my eyes. Hands still on the steering wheel.

“I fucked up, Louis,” I told him, eventually. A deep breath hissed out of me. “I

told him about what happened, and he got pissed, and I really fucked things up.”

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He was quiet then. Quiet enough that I had to glance up at him to see if he was

listening or what. But he had his head down too, staring at his hands clasped in his lap.

“It sounds like I fucked things up, Kyle, not you,” he said, finally, his voice low. “I knew you had…something going on, and I still…”

He trailed off, and I found I was shaking my head. “We both did it, Louis.” I

sighed again. “You wanted it and I wanted it, and we both did it.”

I could see him shrugging, like his shoulders were weighed down somehow. I

resisted the urge to reach out and touch his arm.

“My fuckin’ brother, man,” he said, resignation in his tone. “Always getting me

into trouble somehow.”

I thought back to Ty and how he’d coaxed me out of my clothes and then helped

manipulate Louis until he was inside me, feeling the phantom touch of his hands

confident across my body.

“Your brother is pretty persuasive, but it wasn’t anything we didn’t want to do at the time, Louis,” I pointed out. “And I don’t so much regret it being with you—what we did—just that it ended up hurting Craig.”

He didn’t say anything to that, and the emptiness between us gaped. I put my

hand on his thigh, and he put his hand on top, our fingers gently lacing. I could feel the warmth of him through the soft denim.

“It’s not your fault, dude. I just needed to talk about it with someone…someone

who’d understand,” I tried to explain to him. Louis squeezed my hand in his.

“So tell me,” he said eventually.

I explained to him how the weekend had gone, how I’d avoided Craig first, then

how we’d fucked, and how I’d blamed him and ended up telling him what had

happened. And I told him how I’d tried to stop him from leaving and how I’d blown

him in some stupid attempt to mend things, and yet only made shit worse.

“Oh God, Kyle,” he muttered, shaking his head slowly. “No wonder he’s mad.”

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It was nothing I hadn’t been telling myself, but somehow hearing it from Louis

made me feel even worse.

“I’m not a bad guy, Louis. I’m really not,” I protested, perhaps a little feebly. He gently stroked the back of my hand.

“I know you’re not, Kyle. And trust me, there’s part of me that wonders what it

would be like if I told you just to give up on him and try things out with me instead.”

I looked over at him. Louis grinned, wanly.

“Oh, come on, Kyle, you must’ve realized by now,” he scolded, mock serious. He

dragged my hand up his thigh and onto the thickness at his crotch. I could feel him, hard beneath the fabric. “If I thought…”

My fingers instinctively squeezed, traced the swollen flare of the head where it

bulged against denim, memories of it bruising me open.

I closed my eyes again, and Louis let go of my hand where he’d been holding it

against his erection. For a moment I let it rest there, feeling the throb against my palm.

Then I carefully put my hand back on the wheel.

“I think…” I started. Stopped. Thought some more. “I think I need to get this all

sorted before I can make any big decisions like that. It wouldn’t be fair otherwise, not to Craig, not to you, not to anybody.”

He nodded at that, reached for the door handle but then stopped.

“I can’t tell you the answer, Kyle,” he said to me soberly. “I wish I could. I really do. Somehow I guess you’ve got to show him that all this is what it took for you to realize what you really want, assuming you do really want it.”

My turn to sigh. “Thanks, Louis.” He pulled the handle and swung his leg out. I

couldn’t resist a final glance down to where his meat pushed against his jeans. “I feel like we’re friends.”

He looked at me, ducking down to peer back into the car. “Sure, Kyle, we’re

friends. Maybe friends with benefits once upon a time, but friends all the same.”

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I smiled at that, and he smiled back.

“Good luck, dude.”

Driving home, I realized that—even though, as Louis had warned, he couldn’t

give me the right answer—I’d still ended up feeling more certain about needing to

show Craig exactly how he made me feel. I still didn’t have a clue as to what my next step should actually be, mind.

I managed to make it to my room without having to sugarcoat to my parents how

my day had gone. I wasn’t entirely sure I could muster sufficiently convincing

enthusiasm to get them off my back if I responded with more than a staccato greeting as I fled up the stairs. Instead, I stripped down and started up the shower, enjoying the flood of steam into my lungs as the water heated.

Looking at myself in the rapidly fogging mirror, I marveled at the fact that all

these revelations weren’t visible from the outside. In my head, in the tension across my chest, they were a physical struggle; to look at me, you’d think I was just a regular teenage guy.

I ran my hand down my chest, palm flat, from nipple to stomach, across my abs

and to my groin. I’d found on the drive back that I couldn’t think about sex with Craig, because then I thought about how I’d tried to coerce him by blowing him, and that sent ripples of shame down my spine.

The needle prick of water against my skin was enough to distract me, though, and

the rush of the shower filled my ears and drove the bad feelings away, if not forever, then at least into retreat for as long as we had hot water. A fistful of soap, and suds were tumbling down my body. Slowly I ran my hands under my arms, stretched back

to coax the knots out of my shoulders as best I could with digging fingers.

The erection came on as I was pushing slick hands between my thighs, my cock

lifting out from my body, water trickling down its length. I tried to focus on washing myself, but couldn’t resist taking my balls in a soapy grip and then gently massaging 104
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them. Soon I had my other hand behind me, slipped my fingers between my cheeks to

rub around my ass. My cock was granite hard.

I leaned my shoulders back against the tiles, let the water spatter directly on the tip of my dick as I pulled and squeezed on my nuts and let my finger ease in to the first joint. Hair plastered down, I was breathing deep now, the urge to wrap my fingers

around my shaft and milk just beneath the crown was incredible, but I made myself

wait, hold off.

I slid down the wall, legs spreading as I went, and ended up splayed on the

ground. I reached forward between my legs and jabbed a finger back into the soapy

tightness, held it an inch or so deep before pushing it all the way home. The head of my cock was an angry red, the shaft bobbing between my thighs. I ran the rough palm of my other hand across it, flinching from the sharp sensations that shot back.

Then there was the pressure of a second fingertip. I eased it in, alongside the first, and gasped at the feeling of being stretched open. Unconsciously almost, my hand

found my hardness, began to gently pump at the base where it thickened and met my

crotch. Pushed out like this, pubes sodden and flat, it looked somehow bigger than before; not for the first time, I wished I was flexible enough to lean forward and slip the end between my lips.

Instead I focused on playing with myself and gently jerking off. I’d already come

once today, frantically buried in Craig, but I knew I had more in me, and the sensations radiating out from my fingers were pushing me to the edge.

I’d made a tight loop with my fingers now, relying on their friction around the

head of my dick to grind out another climax. I tilted my hips up so that I could finger myself more deeply, setting up an angry rhythm as I almost pulled my hand free and then jammed it back in to the hilt. I pictured Louis between my thighs, and then Craig, imagining my body being upended, my ass yanked open, the feeling of losing control as Craig plowed me.

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The thought of his slim body framed by my thighs tipped me over. I gazed down

at my cock, mouth wide enough open that the first few blasts coated my lips and my tongue before the rest subsided in sticky dribbles across my chest. My body felt heavy, leaden somehow, and the water had gone from being comforting, insulating, to feeling oppressive around me.

I had some explaining to do, and I still wasn’t sure how I was going to do it.

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Chapter Six

I was on all fours, erection throbbing beneath me, thicker and harder than I could ever remember. Sweat had plastered my hair down, flat against my scalp in a twisted mess; my back was dripping, face flushed, and lips stretched as Louis forced himself into my throat, pumping his muscular hips until there was nothing I could do but grip tight handfuls of the bed sheets and try to rock with his rhythm.

Each of his strokes drove me back, impaling me again and again on Craig’s shaft.

His grip on my hips was more about keeping me in place than pulling himself into me; he was free to run a hand, palm flat on my sticky skin, down my flanks, or steady

himself against the small of my back.

I arched up, tried to clench my ass tight around him, and heard him grunt in

response. A throaty hiss of air as I made corkscrew motions around his swollenness. All the time he and Louis kept up their stream of obscenities, the scorn clear in their voices.

“Fuck, that little cocksucker is desperate for your dick; look at him trying to get down to your balls.”

“He gulps right on the end when you punch his prostate. Dirty little slut loves it.”

“Only fuckin’ thing to make him behave, a cock at both ends.”

I groaned, shamed and aroused in roughly equal measure. I reached up between

Louis’s thighs so that I could trail the back of my fingers against the taut muscle before gripping his balls in my palm.

A ringing slap across my ass; the sound of their laughter as I flinched and then

bore down on Craig again. Louis pulled out of my mouth, chuckling as I tried to follow, then slapped his wet thickness across my lips, my cheeks, let it rest along my nose, the musky, masculine smell of him flooding my senses. I stuck out my tongue, lapped as JOCK AUCTION | 107

much of it as he’d let me with his fist around the shaft, my lips pulled thin as they tried to accommodate the broad, blunt girth.

“Dirty little bitch,” Craig sneered at me, burying himself into my squelching hole.

“Thought you could be the big man, have all the guys you wanted and not give a shit how the rest of us feel?” He pinched my hip, hard, and I jerked away, causing him to jab against the side of my ass painfully. I squealed, felt tears bunch in my eyes.

Louis’s fingers squeezed my chin and tilted my face up to meet his gaze. He

looked horny, horny and disappointed somehow; he shook his head slowly.

“Wanted to have your cake and eat it too, dude, am I right?” I tried to look

contrite with my eyes, my mouth already bloated with his cock. “Doesn’t work that

way, Kyle. Guess that’s a lesson we gotta teach you.”

He looked away, breaking our stare and obviously looking down along the length

of my shuddering body at Craig.

“Fuckin’ fill this little pussy boy, dude.” I flinched at his words. “Pound his lying, sneaky ass.”