When we Cum Face to Face

From your Author’s. We’ve had a reader tell us it’s about the ‘one off’. We get that now and Robby most of all. It isn’t about substance, not becoming part of the big picture, just finding something to jack off to.

I have never been that guy. If you are a reader that expects more, welcome. This whole thing has taken on something different. We, Robby and I, are giving you a real aspect of what thousands read.

I would like to say that some new Authors have been sharing with us, as well as more seasoned writers. I speak of LF. Grant, Big D, and many others. For me what I read on this site inspired me, gave me confidence, and most of all I wanted to deliver on their behalf. ********

She shook me awake; like I was asleep, then watched me slither into cut-offs without turning around. I hadn’t even peed yet. “Nice panties.” She told me with a curl of her lip. OK. She’s got a fuckin slap, cuming.

There he was on the floor with her, singing. My fuckin Grampy. He went through the intro with no music; I pulled it up on my phone. Iggy Kelly. He is like, my biggest wet dream.

*OK. This is RJ. SR. For you old guys, Robby is referring to a Shawn Cassidy of our day. For those who like darker hair we are talking about Andy Gibb, Donny Osmond, or David Cassidy; or Freddie off Scooby-doo: if you’re into cartoon shit. You get the picture. *

“Every baby needs a Grampy, a Grampy, to hold your hands.” Annie looked at me.

“I look in your eyes, a beautiful child, they tell me more than words.” Annie looked at me watching what was on my phone. ******************

Back up a few months. And this will happen a lot so read every word.

Grampy gets melancholy sometimes, and today was one of those days. He didn’t make breakfast, wasn’t out in the yard, he just sequestered himself in the music room.

‘Maybe I didn’t love you, quite as often as I could have. And maybe I didn’t treat you, as good as I should have. If I made you feel second best; I am sorry, I was blind. But you were always on my mind, you are always on my mind.’ And I waited.

I’ve seen him do this before; such discuss with himself. What is remorse?

‘Maybe I didn’t hold you all your lonely, lonely times. I guess I never told you, Rob, I’m so happy that your're mine. The little things we should have said and done; we never took the time. But you were always on my mind.’It was September fourteenth.

She motioned with her head to the truck and I followed without words. Across the one-lane bridge and a mile or so up the road, then she stopped. Her body turned towards mine and I asked, “What???” It was all I had.

“Don’t you even try that ‘what’ shit on me? You did something to him. He has never apologized for any of the fucked up shit he's done.” ********

I could hear him outside, “Why is it I only get her when she stinks, Dumpling???” He asked.

“You are an ass, Ryan.” She told him.

“But, I’m a lovable ass. Do I get another kiss???”

OK. We are backing up again.

I had to get my knife, slowly opened the box, wondering? ‘My-fuckin-Grampy’. My fuckin Grampy had bought me, a-flesh-light. Have I said how much I love that man??? There has to be a better word for this. I put it to work right away, and, oh-my-god. I found him in the music room about forty-five minutes later.

His smile was sly, dimples, and a wink. “Wish I had one of those when I was your age, Jr. Maybe you should rehydrate?” And we both busted up.

I thought about it. What kind of Dad wouldn’t do this for his son? Honestly?

Why would a Father not share in the fact that; REALLY? No one talks about it but all boys do it. If you have a son; talk to him. You were there once, felt the shame of your big secrete thinking you were the only one; weird, different, or even gay. Just do it.

What Mom, wouldn’t share what the parts were, how they felt when you touched them? Boys. Girls. We all do it. Grow up, people…

Back to today

The next couple of days I saw life in my little brother. He didn’t stay in bed when he woke. I watched him engage, he is so… naive. I hoped it wasn’t what I let him watch on my phone.

I was reflecting looking out at the one-lane bridge; Annie wrapped her hands around my belly locking fingers and rested her chin on my shoulder from behind. “Will you show me?” She asked. Fuck? Think about who was asking that?

Her baby girl was eleven months old, Annie wanted her to know how much she was loved, but that isn’t what Annie needed.

I showed her what that little stink factory showered me with. Life is what it is; even if only, months old. She cried as she should. I’m so glad I did this, letting her see the wonder of life.

“Wanna know my secret?” I asked putting my hands on hers slowly sliding them down feeling my stomach quiver because it tickled.

I felt her chin nod on my shoulder. “She’s gonna have a little brother.” And I waited.

“How do you know?” She asked not surprised.

“I’m a fuckin-freak; remember?”

* * * *

“What did you do to him?” she asked?

“You guys got me so stoned. We shared.” I told her. I guess I might have elaborated.

“SHARED? You’re-a-fuckin-freak.” She spat that at me as I ran my hand over my face collecting her spit.

I took a deep-cleansing-breath; I can do this. “I’m not even gonna waste-our-time. I don’t like you anymore. And if I’m honest, being this close to you now, makes-my-heart-feel-old.” And I got out.

Fuckin tears. They feel good sometimes, and hurt like hell others. Grampy says I wear my heart on my sleeve. I don’t even know what that means.

She drove next to me, “I didn’t mean it,” she yelled as tears rolled over my cheeks. I hate to fuckin cry like this but it’s happening more and more.

She stopped about a hundred feet up and got out walking back to me. I went to go around her; she’s built like her brother. Thick as a brick.

“I didn’t mean it,” As one hand came to my chest and the other thumbed tears from my cheeks.

“You’re not dumb. Don’t just let, stupid-crazy-hurtful-shit, fall from your mouth.” And she got my spit in her face as I walked around. Fuckin tears.

Over the one lane bridge I walked. “I want to go home,” I told him and he knew I was serious.

“What happened?” He asked.

“Last night, after you fell asleep, we smoked.” I felt shame.

“They-made-you-smoke???” He asked standing up.

“NO. Nothing like that, but we smoked and, kind-of-sort-a, hooked up.” Looking back, maybe I should have phrased it better?

“OK. I got a bad visual. And??? You-hooked-up-with-them, HOW???” He was ready to blow.

“I brought our heads together.” My head was down. I felt like a dog who got caught in the garbage.

He overlooked what I had done and turned it. “She actually called you, a-fuckin-freak?” And he was on his way out the door.

I saw him through the window, backing her up with the chest finger; his face only an inch from hers, and I got out. Her husband along with her dad walked up behind him.

I guess he set her straight because Annie walked towards me like a bull, grabbed my arm, and walking me to the other side of the yard.

“Are you trying to leave another bruise? I told everybody you pushed me and if I don’t set this bus back up, there’s gonna be hell to pay.” She let go and followed me.

I saw them marching to the bus, Grampy and his buddy. “I lied about the scotch.” I told her in a panic.

“YOU did What???” Like I should have known better. Well, I didn’t…

“It looked like they were gonna cum to blows; I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I got this; then you and me, are having a conversation, Baby Driver.” And after a look, out the door she went.

I don’t know what it is; but I really like that nickname; when she calls me, Baby Driver. I loved the movie.

“Have we showed you what she can do,” She asked turning them around.

I watched her walk them over to her husband leaning in; don’t know what she said but they marched right behind.

She was on her way back to the bus. “You know I’m dumber than dirt, right?” And I nodded in assurance that I did understand how naive she was.

“So you drove this thing here? I wouldn’t drive it; Baby.” And she looked at me all slutty from the co-piolets seat like I wasn’t a baby.

I hovered a hand over the denim covering my crotch, now I was sitting in the huge chair. “You just need to think big,” I cupped myself, smiled, and gave her my dreamy eyes I didn’t even know I had. Where in the hell that came from; I, have, no idea?

If colors could have an orgasm? She just had a little one. I stood with the bus back in sleep mode, she stopped me with her claws in my back pocket. “Do you even know?” She asked as we were now almost face to face.

“What?” And I smiled. Actually, I laughed because it was funny.

“Don’t you even start with that, ‘what’ shit again. You are just cuter than fuck and in a few years you’re gonna be smoking-fuckin-hot.” She leaned in and nipped my ear like yesterday, this time both hands found my ass and she wet-kissed-my neck.

I was getting hard; her bikini top was rubbing against my bare nubs. My hands found her cheeks and I asked with my tilted head, “You-some-sort-of cougar???” I thought that was pretty fuckin funny right there.

“She backed up, slammed her palm into my shoulder. “I am not cuming on to you; if you even know what a cougar is. Don’t look at me like that, you little shit.” And she rocked her head.

OK? That fuckin hurt. I knew the bruise was growing. You want to get into a ‘head-rockin’ contest? You going down. “That fuckin hurt; you have a spanking cuming,” And she palmed my shoulder again.

We looked at each other for a long time. I know I was smiling because never did I change the way I was looking at her. I totally would have kissed her. She broke it.

“I think the spanking thing is gonna have to wait four or five years, Baby.” And she took both my back pockets.

Then everything changed. “There cuming back. I did what I could do; you don’t lie about scotch! And I love your panties” And she bit my fuckin nose.

She beat them out the door with me thinking, what to do, what to do? “Where’s the bottle, slick?” He asked.

“I was wrong; it’s not the good stuff. It was Crown.” His friend looked at him.

“Really??? Crown? What do you do with that shit??? Pour it on a wound??” His friend asked. That was really funny.

“You would think that, you’re so fuckin dumb. I fry your taste buds with the good shit then pour this in the bottle and save what’s left for myself.”

“Jinks! I do the same to you.” And his friend laughed.

Here they were having this conversation and I didn’t even have a bottle of Crown. Think---Think---Think. “I was bringing it out to you guys and it slipped; it broke. I’m sorry. I should have left it in the pretty bag.” And I rocked my head with my pouty lips. It went un-noticed.

“I know you have a stash?” Grampy announced to his friend pulling out two cigars. I guess I do have pouty lips.

“Fine, I’ll share and give you a taste of a REAL Cigar.” It was a war of eyes and Grampy folded.

“You smoke some of your stash with me, I might share some of mine with you. And then you can tell me this long-convoluted-fucked-up-dream-of-yours, Chancellor?” And he rocked his head. I should teach a class for old guys.

“What?” he asked back just tilting his head to one side with a smile.

“Did we room together in college?” I don’t think they even knew I was still standing there.

“Dude. You were the bottom bunk.” And I thought he was gonna piss himself. He laughed so hard he started coughing. And then he sat down. I got his nebulizer, and after a couple puffs he was laughing again.

“Really??? The bottom bunk???” And the coughing started again.

Grampy grabbed his stomach, “Your killing me, Dude,” Tears running down his cheeks,

“You tell me with a straight-face, right now, you weren’t the guy on the bottom bunk? I’m fucking with you; it was my dream.”

* * * *

“You’re just not gonna let that go, are you?” And now her thumbs rested in the waistband under my bellybutton.

“I’m late; if you even know what that means, Baby Driver?” And she nudged her chin even harder in my shoulder and nipped my ear.

“I’m-not-fuckin-stupid, Sis. It means your late! Like, not-gonna-make-it-on-time; traffic, makeup, and all the other shit you girls do.” I gave her a preview; rocking my head.

Her hands came up and twisted my nipples as I started laughing. Now, I thought that was just fuckin hilarious; right there.

“I’ll call you when I find out.” And her hands rubbed the nubs she had just pinched in a soothing way.

“No need. It’s a boy. He’ll show up a little early, a Valentine’s gift just for you and, February 14th. Wait for it?

What’s-his-name. “You’re gonna name him, Quipped, Q, for short. What better name for a boy?” I’m glad she couldn’t see my face.

“Damn you. I hate you, Driver. You know his fuckin name.”

“Fine. Twiler, or Twayler, whatever? I hate you more, Big Dumpling.” It ended with her cupping me in a way.

Good-byes are always hard, everything was packed up, and we walked around the yard; even my brother. Annie held over a sleeping monster and again I reached out on reflex. I don’t like getting bit. How can hair be so soft???

I nuzzled with her head next to my neck and took in the smell of a clean baby, it was pleasant. I held her out just to get a last look before passing her back to Mom when her eyes opened, “Gampy.” She said all sleepy and shit; both palms on my cheeks.

Pause for a tear if you have a heart.

I pulled her back, ran her fingers over my face, “Robby.” I said sternly as I walked to him.

“Grampy.” I said softly as I ran her fingers over his face.

“Robby.” And I repeated the motion.

“Gampy.” And her arms went out to him. “Gampy.” And he looked at his friend.

For Grampy it was a competition, as fucked up as it sounds; about weather she’d say, Papa or, Grampy, first. His friend smiled knowing he’d missed diapers and Grampy had been working the shit out of it.

After much conversation about the stink monster, we got in the bus. “You got like, ten slaps cuming, Slick. Wanna drive?” He asked me sitting across in the co-piolets chair with a smile.

Our bus is forty feet long; it really is just like an over grown car in a, bark-a-lounger. I nodded realizing, I’d never driven a car; closest thing was an ATV.

As I drove; let’s just say I had a few distractions that split my attention. First; my brother. Second, was Annie, with her brothers and husband. And then it was her dad. I could have and maybe should have, shown him. I didn’t. He won’t be alive for his next if he doesn’t go to the doctor. Where should I step in and how would it change things???

I see shit. It’s more than colors. It’s so… fuckin hard. I do my best not to make contact. That’s when it goes really bad. I. I, in a Nano-second see a life, today, yesterday, and tomorrow. Nobody wants to see what I do. *****

“Do you want to do the freeway, driver?” he asked after two hours of a long silence. I nodded knowing I’d already run the gauntlet. The roads behind us were like switch backs, hills, along with sharp downhill corners and shit. And let me say, with very few signs. We might as well have been on the road to Hana in this bus.

I got comfortable when we hit I90. “Ready to spill, Grampy?” I asked to his, ‘what’ eyes.

“What?” He asked.

“Typical stall tactic, Grampy.” And I smiled so comfortably.

“He said the same thing when I first used it. What?” And I had to look at the road.

“OK? So who is the grown up here? You do Sweet Sixteen, basically outing yourself, and then, ‘Highwaymen’? What were you thinking?” I asked.

What?” And his hand came up, “Just kidding. Did it really cum off like that, I mean, Sweet Sixteen?” And he scowled.

“You think; just maybe, you could have dialed it back, even a little? If you had, it would have just been another song. You can’t sing about rocking chairs and shit the way you did, and your sweet boy.” I passed a trooper who was doing sixty in a seventy as I collected oxygen.

“I’ll show you on my phone. Really????” And he got my rockin head. “Your eyes were closed and I saw the looks on everybody’s faces. It couldn’t have, cum off any other way. Why’d you do that?” I asked.

“It was the forth. It was the first time I really saw what I needed and the feeling I felt around him.” And he looked ahead.

“You read what I wrote, know what I saw looking at him getting out of the shower that first time.”

“I get it. So, ‘The Highwaymen’?” And he looked away.

“Robby? I remember stuff that doesn’t fall into play with, ‘Robby and Ryan’. I played it back then chose not to show that shit and just alluded to it.

Time passes and not always do stars align. Realize that. Lifetimes went by that we never found each other but we lived lives without out our missing piece. How sad is that?” I pulled in front of the trooper doing seventy going uphill.

“You could have sung it like a song, not a memorial and shit. I get it. I’ll show you that too.” And I passed another car.

He just looked at me sideways in his chair, “Don’t start,” I told him cutting him off.

“You need to let that shit go. A man does what a man needs to do at the time.”

“You’ll never understand, blood on your sward. I killed men. Many; and I’ve lost count. They shed their blood upon my swards, died with my led in their bellies.”

That was a lot to digest. Those were things that rested behind the wall of vines with thorns. “Why’d you leave out the verse?” I asked.

“What?” And I looked at him with my best, really-eyes.

“I was a Sailor? Why that one,” I asked.

“Don’t you even try and psycho-analyze me. Pull over.” Unintentionally, I had yanked-his-chain.

“I can’t just pull this thing over; chill.” I truly thought that might work.

It was like we drove through a rainbow coming into The Yakima Valley. “You’re right.” He said with a smile; all hostility gone.

“Have you ever been seasick?” He questioned.

“Water doesn’t bother me,” I told him thinking about last year.

“It bothers me!” And I understood his look.

“In a boat with a sail; it takes a long…damn…time to get anywhere. Around the Horn of Mexico, I did sail a schooner. It took almost a year; Why do you think I don’t like the ferry?” Compute, compute.

From your Author’s:

Like I said, this is fucking with Robby. He’s looking at it as a success or failure, thing. I did the same early on then realized if what I wrote touched just one soul. A part of me touching another.

We are still going back and forth, we’re back to eight thousand words again.

Side note.I have been working on the ending of a story I read on ‘Literotoca.com’. The Author, ‘nemO’, started a story a decade ago; ‘No Regrets’. And no connection to the story posted a few weeks ago.

Robby doesn’t know anything, but it occupies my time waiting for him. He’s gonna be fifteen in May and I struggle with what should be shared. He does understand that the stuff on sites like this is mostly fiction, for the most part, and he can’t access them anymore.

It’s the Vid’s. He watched some of them before I tethered him back months ago when I found out. We’ve had conversations about what looks like young guys just like him making love or having fun. Like the videos on this site. He understands, without understanding. It’s guys making money, and they are just actors. It is, all, about-the-$.

This collaboration thing between us is kind of weird. He writes and I see it, we trade back and forth till he thinks it’s OK. I don’t let him log on and see the finished product or comments anymore, so he doesn’t see this.

I didn’t know what transpired between he and Annie, or the others, until I read it as he wrote. My Grandson is a challenge, I raised his father, I can give our son, the lesson that is life, that will be his. We learn about each other and smile across from each other as we write.

He’s pissed because we have long passed two thousand word. RJC.