The Bug

A short story from RJC.

From the Author:

As my readers know I sometimes come to a block that would seem normal. I have been posting on this site and as of my last post, I hit thirty-three chapters on The Start. During the writing of that I hit a block so I started, Something Different. That’s the title and I have posted nine chapters.

I’ve kind of come to that place again. The things happening today distract me on many levels; distract all of us. As I sit with the keys under my fingers just not finding the words to grow my stories I think of a lot of things. I wonder what it would be like today, nineteen years old, self-quarantining, with two friends in a cabin on a mountain. RJC.

We’d all been at home with our parents for six weeks. We were freshmen at The University of Washington when everything went to shit. We had to leave the dorm and like I said; we’re living with our parents whose thumbs were now pressing down on us again. My uncle had a cabin; well it was my Dad’s now since my uncle died without a wife or children.

We each raided our parents’ fridge, freezers, and cupboards, putting everything into child-size coffin, coolers. I was happy to see my friends as I grunted the cooler into the back of Brice’s truck. “You’re riding bitch,” Chance said to me getting out from the passenger’s side.

“There’s only one bitch, out of the three of us, and we know who that is,” I said sliding to the middle.

We were A, B, C, and I’m Addam. I play baseball, have sandy hair that I always have to push from my eyes. I stand five-eleven, one seventy-five, and I do workout. I have a girlfriend but it’s mostly for show, I like her but, I think she just likes sucking my cock because that’s all she does.

The guy to my right is Chance; Basketball star for UW. He has to duck going through doors and is gangly, red hair, with white skin, and is as long as he is tall.

Brice is our driver. The wrestler. He stands five-foot-seven, one-seventy, and is proud of his record. He would be the strongest of us; including smell. His hair is dark, cut close to his head with green eyes. For a small guy, he’s stacked with a five-inch cock that looks like a little bottle of water. And he can sing; god, can he sing.

Three hours and we bounced down the pothole gravel road when the cabin came into sight. Cabin is a good description, one room with a loft, four hammocks hanging from the rafters along with a double bed in the one room. I hadn’t been here in years; rustic was an understatement. The wood stove served duel uses, heat and something to cook on. No inside plumbing, only two doors, the one we walked in and the other across from us.

“This isn’t what we expected when you said cabin, Addam.” They said at the same time.

There was no power, no TV or intranet. No cell service, we were shut off to the outside world, and water came from the lake stored in fifty-five-gallon drums on the deck. The lake was the view from the deck down a bank a hundred feet away. It was a steep hill. The back of the cabin was twenty feet off the ground, trees on both sides, the lake framed in nature.

“You said Cabin!” Chance said grabbing my balls from behind.

“You didn’t say anything about Flintstones shit.” Came from Brice.

“It’ll be fun you pussies. You want to drive back home?” I asked.

“Dude you’re getting hard,” he said never letting go of my balls.

When I reached back to cup his he let go laughing and backing away making fun of me for getting hard.

“Look, you got hard touching me, Chance. I can see it. Look, Brice.” And I pointed.

“It didn’t make me hard; I’m not hard.” He told both of us with resentment.

“Prove it…” we said in unison.

“You guys are twisted. I’m not, touching him didn’t, it didn’t give me a hard-on.” And he went to turn.

“Prove it…” we said again.

“Look, C.” and he looked at me. “Not at me, dumbass. Look down.” He was probably nine inches or more, not that big around, and he wore tight pants. There was nowhere for anything like that to hide.

“Show me, C,” Brice begged. It was kind of weird, the way he asked and how he looked at him.

“Fine…” A pouty Chance said turning, pulling the button, then running the zipper down.

Now I was eager as my mate to see what he’d offer up.

“I hope you’re both, fuckin, happy, now.” A hard Chance said pulling his pants down.

It was a little more than hard, stuck out in front of him and was pumping up with each beat of his heart. “I’m just, it wasn’t touching you that, I’m just fuckin Horney, ok?”

I turned to my right a little, Brice. The pop can in his pants was showing; like really showing. Chance was right. He did make me hard cupping my balls, fuck; looking at grass could make me hard. But him with his hand on my junk made him hard; and why was Brice, hard?

“OK guys; time to show. Come on, Addam.” Chance said.

I looked at his broom handle of a dick watching it grow as it was resting higher than his belly button. There was no getting out of this and Brice seemed to want to see too. Now in the boy parts category, I had more to be proud of. I was a solid eight, big around as a toilet paper roll, and a big heart-shaped head.

I wore 501’s and it was hard to hide what was underneath the thin fabric. It wasn’t so much my dick as the underwear I was wearing. I got a thing about underwear, buy them online, and there’s a lot of them to choose from. This pair today had a pouch, mesh everywhere else. And they were red.

It wasn’t like I was putting on a show pulling the buttons as slow as I did, it was to buy time. I could already hear the banter about what held me together under my pants. We’d been through high school together, we were in the same dorm, same gang showers, but my underwear thing was new.

I dropped just my pants expecting comments; I got none as their eyes looked at my crotch. They seemed to ignore what held me together and wanted to see Addam, hard. And I was. It was Brice, who said, “Let’s see it.” Chance nodded his head at the statement.

I was happy I’d dodged the bullet about my underwear so I tucked a thumb in each side and wiggled out of them down. That was when they both realized I was wearing a thong. I really didn’t think we would be doing what we were now. I saw the smile on Chance and heard the laughter from Brice; cats out of the bag.

“He likes a string up his ass, Dude!” Chance said to Brice.

“So, I like the way it feels! Get over yourself.”

I looked at Brice; then his crotch. He knew without words he had to show. I hated baggy pants on guys; well, I didn’t like baggy pants. And they fell to his feet. Now my description of his tool might have been a little off. He was five inches hard, bigger around than I was but, the head was small; like freakishly small compared to what it was attached to.

So… there we stood on the deck with our pants around our ankles, looking at two other cocks that weren’t our own, and were all as hard as a fuckin rock. What now? It seemed like hours ticked by, all of us looking back and forth at each other’s tool. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who wanted to reach out, touch my buds, feel them, and none of us did.

“I get the bed,” I said pulling my shit up.

“It has always been, rock, paper, scissors.” They said at the same time.

It was funny looking at B, and C, who had not pulled up their pants looking at me with hard-ons. “Fine! Who wants to sleep with me in the big bed?”

Fists slapped palms and Chance won. He nodded his head like he had just done a dunk, said, bitch, to Brice, then looked at me.

“Pull your fuckin pants up, Dorks. Just because we don’t have neighbors doesn’t mean you guys can hang out and dry like that.” I told them.

It seemed like ice had been broken and Chance would be sharing my bed tonight; maybe for the next two weeks. They both pulled their pants off, shoes, and shirts. I looked at them in just socks. Now that was fuckin funny. They eyed me, we’d only been here less than an hour, and dicks were a flying.

I pulled off my shoes, pants, and undergarment, along with my socks, and I liked the way my friends looked at me. I do work at looking good if you know what I mean. I would want to fuck around with me; that just sounds weird but. It turned into an awkward silence as we eyed the parts of each other.

I broke the silence saying we should take inventory of what we all brought and consolidate stuff down to two coolers depending on what we wanted to eat for the next few days. I looked at Chance who was rock, fuckin, hard. That broom handle of a cock was two inches above his belly button and the drops were clearly visible.

It was strange but, wasn’t. The three of us were in our birthday suits, all of us in a state of readiness, so to speak. We moved around doing different things, throwing our duffels in the corner, sorting the stuff for the shelf of dried goods, and feeling comfortable in our shin.

It was as if this was normal, three guys waving our dicks around, only inches or feet away from each other, and Chance was sleeping with me tonight. It was warm but I built a fire in the stove even knowing we would grill the stakes outside. I watched Brice through the front door walking to his truck in socks then turn with his guitar in hand. I smiled.

We bullshitted back and forth, after an hour none of us softened, and drips were seen by all. We ate chips, drank beer, and smoked some awesome weed Brice had brought. He whined the whole time about sleeping in the loft when there was more than enough room in the double bed. Really?

The lake wasn’t big and even though we were on a mountain it was warm because it was fed by a hot-spring. It was Brice who grabbed Chance’s dick first, then mine. More ice was broken. I liked it and C and I took turns grabbing his fat tool because it only seemed fair.

I was the one who brought up jacking off. I knew there was no way I’d fall asleep tonight considering I had been hard and dripping for hours. There was no convincing needed for B and C. It was a matter of fact. It was funny that all of us had lube in our bags and put it to work.

I was the first to reach over and stroke Chance, held his tool, ran my hand up until he popped from my grip, then pushed back down rubbing my thumb over the drops. This was too much for Brice and I felt his hand on me and one of us moaned. I stacked my fists on stretches long cock and two inches rested on top; that’s a lot of dick.

We were all friends and something like this had never happened. We’d watch porn together, knew we were all hard but never did anything in front of the other. Now his was the first cock, other than my own, I’d ever touched. He wasn’t as big around as I was but was longer; way longer.

Brice was working me how I think he likes it, top to bottom strokes. Mindy had sucked me off a lot of times but somehow this was better. I was the guy in the middle, both hands jacking C as B stroked me, and I gave him a hand. It was strange how they were so different, you could see it, but to feel it in your hands is something totally different.

Now I jacked both of them and as Brice worked my shaft Chance worked just my head and with his other hand, he added more lube to all of us. I closed my eyes as my hands felt the difference between them, the veins and ridges, how the skin moved, and the size. We weren’t talking but communication was going on, the sounds we made, moves we couldn’t help but make, and the throbbing.

I was getting close, I worked them more with my hands, and they did the same. I came first with volleys of cum. Chance caught a lot of it in his hand but some hit my face and chest as I pumped both of them. They came close to the same time, Chance over his head and Brice without the velocity but made up for it in quantity over my fingers.

I looked at my friends, thought about what’d happened, what should I do? I’d never been the guy in the middle; never been that guy at all. I knew my hands were dripping and knew theirs were too; what to do? I took both hands smearing them with their hand full of me; I made pudding on my belly.

I was the first to scoop some up licking it off my fingers but I didn’t look at them, didn’t want to see their faces, but smiled when they did the same. We all started at the same time, “That.”

“That, was, so… fuckin, hot!” Brice stated; C and I nodded.

“I can’t believe you guys brought lube.” I really couldn’t.

“I don’t know about C, but when you said cabin; well your parents are rich. I was thinking something more along the lines of your house on a mountain, not this.” And Chance nodded.

“So that’s your feeble excuse for bringing lube? You guys are gonna have to do better than that.”

“Well I thought there’d be a bathroom, or we’d have our own rooms, I been beating off three times a day,” Brice announced.

“Same here, Dude. If it wasn’t for lube the friction would set something on fire.” C confirmed.

“I have a confession, Addam. Touching you did make me hard. I don’t know why, but it did. And it was me touching you that caused your thing to grow; don’t deny it” And Chance eyed me.

From your Author:

Like the title said; a short story. I banged out twenty-five hundred words in a short time and realized there is so much more; there is always more. I would love your feedback and comments; good or otherwise. I see this turning into more than a short story considering we haven’t even got through day one of fourteen. RJC.