Finally, I fell asleep and dreamed of Shelly. She was alive again, healthy, smiling. She'd come into Rory Winters bedroom, sat on the edge of the bed. She wore the white bikini I'd told her I liked and smelled of coconut tanning oil. She threw the sheet off me and pulled my briefs down around my knees. I felt paralyzed, unable to stop her. And I should stop her. She was dead. It wasn't right to have sex with...

Shelly bent over and took my morning hard on into her mouth. She was tonguing me, tasting the end of my prick with her tongue, teasing the end of my cock between her lips, letting me feel every inch of them on the head. It was delicious. I wondered if I was in heaven.

Then my eyes opened a little, and I stared at the light coming in through a gap in the velveteen drapes. The dream was vivid, like she was still there sucking me. I looked down, almost expecting to see Shelly, but instead Harlan's mop of curls bobbed up and down on my hard dick. I inhaled deeply. Harlan's eyes flashed up at me.

I should be panicking, I thought. I should be pulling him off of me and screaming at him to stop. Instead, I closed my eyes and concentrated on what he was doing. His mouth was warm, and he went down on me until his lips were at the very base of my cock, the top of my dick being bent and squeezed into his throat. I gasped. I couldn't believe he'd gotten my dick that far down. I was already close to coming.

Harlan pulled off me and sat up with a big smile on his face. 'Good morning, sleepy head.' He crawled up and gave me a deep kiss. It was a nice kiss, but I sort of wanted him to go back to what he was doing. Just to get it over with.

After he kissed me a while, he got on his knees and waddled up to the top of the bed. His cock, which was even more impressive hard, waved around in front of my face. It was obvious what he wanted me to do. I started to say, 'I really don't...'

He tried to push his cock into my mouth. I turned my head. He stopped and gave me a long look. Then he asked 'Toothache?'

'Something like that,' I replied, hoping I wouldn't have to explain. With a shrug, Harlan went back to sucking my dick. As he blew me, he massaged my balls, then the space behind them, and then, he tried fingering my asshole. Quickly, I pushed him away.

'Oh, I get it,' he said. 'You like to pretend to be trade. Okay, I can do that.'

I didn't know what he was talking about, but it seemed like he wasn't going to push this too far. I relaxed a little as he popped my dick back into his mouth and all the way down his throat. He pulled back and ran his tongue around the head of my cock. I couldn't help squirming around, which just made him do it some more.

Then he slipped a hand around the base of my prick and began jerking it in tandem with the bouncing of his head. I could feel my orgasm growing in my balls. I tried to pull away from him before I came, not wanting to be an ass. The girls I'd done this with practically puked if you came in their mouths.

But Harlan wouldn't let go. When I stopped quivering, he pulled off my cock and crawled up the bed next to me. Pulling me close, he gave me a soul kiss that was deep, passionate and tasted of jizz. It was like nothing I'd ever tasted before, salty and musty, and all too human. If I didn't think it would mess things up, I'd have run to the bathroom and spit it out. After a couple moments, though, it wasn't so bad.

Harlan rolled over and we lay on the bed a while. His arm still tucked around me, he began jacking off. I tried to convince myself that I'd let him blow me because of the trauma I'd recently experienced. I wasn't a fruit; I was just a guy in a lot of trouble. I mean, sure, I did think about guys sometimes. But it was always guys with girls, never guys alone or guys with guys. Letting some guy blow me didn't make me light in the loafers. Right?

Spitting on his hand to make it slick, Harlan coated his dick. Pulling me into another kiss, he reached out and led my hand to his cock. What the hell, I thought? I've done this to myself a few thousand times. It wasn't a big deal.

He was getting close. His face scrunched together, his body arched, and his toes curled. I pumped him faster, making sure to run my palm across his mushroom head each time I got to the top. Friction was friction, I told myself. That's all this was.

With a heavy groan, he came, shooting the first wad all the way up to his collarbone. Three more spurts painted his belly in come. He pulled me close and kissed me a few times. I tried to focus on what was important. I needed a place to stay. If I played nice, maybe Harlan would let me stay a few days. If I had to get a couple of blowjobs to do it, then so be it. It didn't mean I wasn't going to leave and someday find a nice girl and settle down - after people stopped trying to kill me, of course.

Without warning, Harlan sat up and said, 'You have to go.'

'I thought we were... you know, having fun?' I asked.

'We are having fun,' he said. 'But my boss will be here in a couple of hours, and I shouldn't really have company. It's not professional.'

'Do you have an apartment somewhere?' We were obviously in Rory Winters' bedroom. If Harlan was really an employee, he'd have somewhere else to sleep.

'I live here. At the house.'

'Where's your room? I'll stay there. I'll be really quiet.' If I got kicked out that sort of defeated the whole purpose of having had sex with a guy.

'You can't do that.' He started to get a grumpy look on his face.

'This is your room, isn't it?' I said. If he was going to be grumpy, I'd give him something to be grumpy about.

'I think you need to leave.'

'Can I take a shower, at least?' I needed one bad, plus it would give me time to think about what to do next. Maybe I could set it up so I could come back after his boss left. Hopefully, I wouldn't need to, but it was at least a back up plan.

Harlan sighed. 'Yeah, go ahead. Take a shower.'

I got out of bed and walked naked to the master bathroom. It was larger than the room I'd been staying in at the Desert Rose. There was a bathtub, a shower large enough for a small sports team, a toilet and an extra, odd-looking toilet next to it. When I looked it over, I saw the shower had heads on each side and if you wanted you could have it spray you from each side. I wanted.

First, I looked myself over in the wall-to-wall mirrors. I didn't look like a fag. But then, neither did Harlan. I don't know what that proved. I did look like I hadn't been eating much lately. My ribs stuck out a little at the sides, and my stomach was tighter and flatter than it had been since I was in country.

Taking my time. I worked the faucets until I got the water warm enough on each showerhead. Then I stepped in. I liked the feeling of being hit with water from two directions. Just as I began to wash my hair, I heard a sound behind me, and the glass door to the shower popped open and Harlan joined me. He pushed me up against the glistening wall of tile and kissed me. I wondered if he was going to try and start having sex again. I should probably say no, since he was throwing me out. But if I agreed to do it with him again, maybe he'd find a way to let me stay.

Reaching down, he cupped my balls and massaged them in his hand. My cock began to stir. With his other hand, he took the shaft in his hand. As he traced his fingers around my cock head, I shut my eyes and concentrated on the sensation. Abruptly, Harlan pulled away. He looked over his shoulder, concentrating, then he quickly turned the showerheads off. In the distance, at the far end of the house, a voice called his name.

'Oh, shit,' he said. 'You have to hide.'

 

Marshall Thornton

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