Ball Buds 06

"We go a-hunting for bargain finds,

Chosen by clever discriminating minds."

Toby bounced into my apartment, brimming with his good mood and bad poetry.

"You're beginning my day with lame shit like that, Toby? Well, how about this, poet?

"Finding treasures, oh, fuck me, please.

We're dealing with vendors marketing fleas."

Toby grimaced and groaned theatrically. "Bad, boss. Super bad. Rad bad." He poked me in the stomach, making me flinch and giggle. "Flea markets don't sell fleas. But that fucking part might have a bit of validity."

"Just a bit? Well, we'll have to see if you earn the privilege. You gotta spiff this place up to the max. Your decordar best be up to snuff."

"Is that related to gaydar, boss? If so, I'm tuned in."

"Hhuummm. I might have to do some fine tuning with your knob. Let's see..." I began reaching for his very evident knob, but he backed away. "No time for such shenanigans if we're gonna make the best sales this morning. But you can put tinfoil on my head and check reception later, if you like. My antenna picks up signals pretty readily."

"I've noticed," I said dryly. "So what are we looking for today, Toby? A pallid bust of Pallas?"

"Too morbid! Nope, we're just gonna go check and see what's out there. You can't really make a list, because you never know what you'll run up with. People sell all sorts of stuff and you have to wait to see what catches your eye. Or your heart. So, what sort of stuff do you like? Besides naked men and ostriches, of course. I already know about those."

"I tried to tell you, that was a giraffe..."

"Whatever. Sure looked like an ostrich to me. Maybe we should just buy you some paper and let you decorate your place with original origami creations. Deformed and decimated animals are all the rage."

"I do like giraffes. You've seen my shirt, remember? But I don't want to go overboard on some wild African jungle theme. And I like bright colors. Dull colors depress me. I sorta like comfy, timeworn stuff. Something that has a history and has had its share of ups and downs, kinda like me. And something that needs to be loved and needs a home. I gotta feel it, if it's going home with me..." I broke off at the intense look that Toby was giving me.

"You brought me home, boss," he said softly, almost tearfully.

"And I might just keep you," I wiseassed back, trying to break his suddenly somber mood, "but I might have to return you as damaged goods," I moved closer to him. "You seem to have this gigantic crack in your substructure back here." I caressed his ass, concentrating on the offending fissure. "Wonder if I can get a refund?"

"No deposit, no return," Toby sallied. "Sorry, boss."

"I thought that was only for pop bottles."

"My ass is glass, and slick as wet grass, but it's got class. Wanna make a deposit now?"

"Later, gator. You ready to go buy some fleas?"

"We're off to a good start with your POE-etic descriptions, boss. But no stuffed ravens or pallid busts. He was one creepy dude. Giraffes seem pretty tame compared to deathbird omens. And we'll keep an eye out for ostriches."

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We pulled up to a lot seemingly strewn with debris and broken furniture. Toby's eyes lit up and he jumped out into the midst of this junkyard and motioned for me to hurry and join him. I hesitantly got out and eyed the piles of random stuff around me. "Is this where they keep the boxes of fleas?" I asked Toby, pointing to an old chest nearby.

"Funny. C'mon, let's go over toward that table. I see some funky condom, er, I mean, cookie jars there. Your gingersnaps need a new home."

"My gingersnaps are fine where they are, poet. Unless one of the jars is a giraffe, of course. Let's go look."

"You've just been bitten by the Possibility Bug. There's no going back now! It's the most contagious disease, and you've caught it from me, Jace. Flea markets, rummage sales, estate auctions, garage sales, there's no end in sight. Yippee skip! I knew you were a bargain hunter at heart."

"Yep, that's me. Show me your stuff, wildman. Shop till you drop."

"I can drop my drawers and show you my stuff, all at the same time," Toby whispered evilly in my ear.

"Just lead me to the cookie jars, okay? I'll be just as excited about those."

"You wound me, boss," he pantomimed grabbing his chest and swooning. "But if you insist," he grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the table. "Let's have a look."

There were several cookie jars arranged on the table, most hideously ugly and highly unsuitable for anything. Even safeguarding cookies. But one had a certain appeal, not a giraffe, but a simple aesthetic shape with blobs of various colors swirled and spattered on its surface.

Toby watched me as I lifted the lid and peered inside. "No cookies," I informed him. "Or condoms."

"Take it with us. This one has called your name. I heard it. Plainly. I'm gonna run and get us a basket to haul our stuff in. Hang loose as a goose." He darted away while I snagged the cookie jar. Other shoppers were migrating toward the table, and I didn't want to lose my first find.

Toby returned with a big basket and I carefully tucked the jar inside. "Nice catch for a virgin fleafinder, boss. This will look fine in that book nook in your kitchen cabinets. You might be a natural at this. And your gingersnaps will be ecstatic."

"What about furniture, Toby? Maybe I need that more than I need knickknacks. I can't get anything too big today, because it won't fit in the Jeep. But it won't hurt to look, will it?"

"You need both, Jace. Furniture and fill-ins. You have a nice apartment that just needs some tender loving care. It'll take awhile. You won't find everything today. And some sales deliver larger pieces, but you have to pay a fee. Big shock, right?

We might could rent or borrow a pickup to haul the bigger stuff. But we can figure all that out later. Let's just have fun today, okey dokey?"

"Lead on, scout. You're the expert here. Teach me some of the tricks of the trade."

"You're on!" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Tricks are my trade!"

"Why do I leave myself open to such sleaze?" I rolled my eyes emphatically.

"Because you worship my wit and provoke my profound poetry," he answered matter-of-factly. "Let's take a gander at that tent over there holding some chairs and end tables. We might find one I can refinish for you in a color you like."

"I'm kinda fond of blue, you know" I chirped, eyeing his crotch where his blue bow resided.

"Yeppers, I figured that out. But there's bunches of blues to pick from. We gotta get it right."

Toby continued on to the tent, but I got distracted passing by a table of used books. Unlike most people these days, I refused to read on an electronic device of any kind except for short forays on Google to research something or to check the news headlines. I still held out for actual books in my hand that I could sniff or fondle or toss aside as the mood struck. Nothing like it in the electronic world. Call me old school.

I perused the titles, some of which I had already read, and checked the cover art. Yep, I do judge a book by its cover. How else are you gonna get a feel for what's inside? I slid three such possibilities into our basket and moved on to join Toby to see what he had discovered.

"Find any good coffee table tomes back there, Jace? Because I spotted a good deal on a coffee table that would look gnarly in your place. It's got a wobbly leg, but it's an easy fix. And it'll look good with some blue stain or paint, and I can distress it a bit since you're into timeworn. Come tell me what you think."

"Gnarly? Are you for real? Why not just tell me it's the bomb? Or outta sight?"

"Enough, old school scholar. I saw you slip those books into our basket. Do you want this table, or not?"

"It's your call, hoss. You're the fixer-upper expert here. If you say it'll work, I trust you."

"It'll work wonders. And you can get rid of that shabby, shaky TV tray pretending to be a coffee table. And maybe a few more faux pas I noticed."

"You can ditch anything except my perfect picture of you. That's stayin', no matter what."

"We might work with that. Or around it, at least. After all, the subject matter is so stunning and stupendous, it would be hard to top that particular print."

"I can think of several ways to top that subject. Wanna go behind those bushes over there so I can demonstrate?"

"Tempting, boss, so tempting. But you've got a coffee table to wedge into that tiny, pitiful Jeepster of yours. And look, I discovered this pretty celadon vase hiding behind a crate of old vinyl records. Let's go find the vendor and see if we can bargain a bit because of the wobbly leg on your new blue coffee table."

Toby worked his magic while I looked through some paintings, seeing if anything caught my fancy. Only one small canvas spoke to me, and I pulled it out to show Toby. He returned, smiling, so I assumed he had dickered the price he wanted. "Whadda ya think of this, Toby? Reckon it would work somewhere?"

"It's lovely. Go ahead and add it to our stash. But I'm steering away from artwork until we see what Jerico has to offer. I think he might be a good source of unique, quirky images that speak volumes. And stuff more our style. So hold off a bit until we check him out, okay?"

"Good idea. I like that plan. But I'm holding on to this one. I like it."

We paid the vendor for our loot, then manhandled the coffee table to the Jeep and fitted it in easily by putting down the seat backs, then bracing it up with our other purchases, which the cashier had carefully wrapped. I threw an old blanket I kept in the Jeep over the table to protect it and further cushion it for the ride.

"Where to next?" I asked, climbing behind the wheel once again. Toby checked an app on his phone. "There's a garage sale about a mile down the road. But it's not in a garage," he grinned. "It's in a parking lot of some defunct auto dealership. Might be a good place to scope out."

We headed there, finding it easily. We got out and we immediately burst into gales of laughter. Just in front of us at the entrance to the lot was a shelf in a bookcase lined with plaster busts. Probably statesmen or authors or some such, but it was too sweet to pass up.

"I don't know if any of these are Pallas, boss, but some of them sure are pallid. Let's hurry on by before you're tempted to snatch one of them up," he giggled, pulling at my arm.

"I'm waiting for the stuffed raven. I'm sure this place will have one,"

"Nevermore," Toby intoned spookily, pulling my arm harder, but laughing all the while.

We wandered aimlessly, admiring some things, dismissing others out of hand. Toby had a knack for finding the good stuff, so I let him browse to his heart's content. "Lookee at that old mirror, Jace. That's a nice one, and would fit some space handily. Not too ornate, but the carving on the frame is classy. The only thing that could improve it is the reflection of your naked body in it. Let's check it out."

The mirror was in good shape, not discolored like lots of mirrors we had seen, and it had a sturdy frame and a silky feel to its finish. We also discovered an ottoman with a curious print, and a chair to match, but I nixed the chair. "Too avant-garde for me, Toby. The chair would be overkill. But I like this pattern in smaller doses. Reckon they'll split up the set?"

"Only one way to find out. We'll ask that guy who looks like he's hosting this booth. We might work out a deal."

I mauled my way through a bin of throw pillows while he negotiated the sale. I found some I thought might work, but waited for Toby's approval since this was his smokeshow. He sauntered his jaunty way back to me, and I knew he had been successful in wrangling the ottoman into our clutches. "Done deal, boss. Let's load her up."

On our way to the vehicle with the ottoman, Toby suddenly stopped, making me almost drop the end I was holding. With an oof, I sat my end down, curious as to what had caught his eye.

He lowered his end of the ottoman down also, then darted to a selection of glassware and ceramic oddities nearby. I saw him caress one of the items, but he was standing in front of it, and I couldn't tell what it was. He carefully picked it up and caressed it some more. Shoppers nearby were beginning to look at him curiously, but he paid them no mind.

He carried it back to me and I saw it was a sort of squared cylindrical object that rounded more toward the tip. It was obliquely phallic in nature, subtle, but it had a weird dobble of fold at the top, abstract, but vaguely realistic.

"It's your cock, bossman!" he whispered softly, aware of the shoppers around us. "Lookee, it's even got a foreskin! I'm taking this home with me. Even better than a pallid bust of Pallas. I gotta go find the vendor for this baby. I might even pay him double. Keep an eye on our ottoman, will you? This can't wait."

I helplessly watched him dart off to pay the man. Shaking my head and laughing. He saw art in the strangest things. If you can call my cock a work of art. Yeah. And it seemed right much bigger than the actual dangler between my legs. Make that a whole heap bigger.

After we loaded our haul, Toby suggested we find a place to eat. We motored on and after awhile, we spotted a roadside diner that looked homey and inviting. "How about this place, Toby?" I asked, flipping on the turn signal. "Maybe they'll have a little old grandma cooking up our grub, and it'll be fabulous."

"Suits me, boss. I could go for some homemade vittles. My grandma could cook like a charm."

We bailed out and walked up on the porch to the entrance. Several rocking chairs waited for occupants to crank them up. Stepping inside, we were greeted by good smells and a clean, cozy space with mismatched tables and chairs. Some of the diners glanced up at us, but most were concentrating on their plates or each other.

We snagged a booth and a waitress came over to bring us menus and take our drink order. "Coffee and sweet tea, please," I requested. Toby looked at me. "Both?" he smirked. "Need my caffeine fix," I defended. "What are you having?" "Just sweet tea for me," he smiled at the waitress. "I'm the designated driver."

She cracked her gum and scribbled on a pad. "Gotcha, honey. Y'all know what you'd like to eat yet? We got some specials going on the board there." She indicated an easel chalkboard which listed the daily dozen.

"Best give us a moment, then," Toby recommended. "Not too sure yet what I'm having." She cracked her gum again and moved off to refill someone's coffee.

"Maybe the meatloaf, 'honey'?" I whispered when she was out of earshot. Toby gave me a look.

She returned quickly with our drinks. "Ready now?" she pulled out her pad and pencil.

"I'll have the meatloaf plate," Toby piped up. "And maybe a piece of apple pie."

"You got it, honey. What about you?" she eyed me, her pencil poised. "I think I'll try the chicken and dumplings. And a piece of butterscotch pie, please."

"Comin' right up, dumpling. Won't be but two shakes of a lamb's tail." She hustled off toward the kitchen to put in our order.

Toby grinned, and I knew what was coming. "How about that, 'dumpling'? We sure hit the jackpot with this place. Wonder if Grandma is back there shaking that lamb's tail?"

I stuck my tongue out at him and sipped my coffee. I knew any retaliation would be useless; he'd just use it against me.

We didn't have to wait long. Grandma must have been up to speed or on steroids or something. Our food was steaming and delicious. We made short work of it, enjoying eating at a new spot and spending some time together out of our normal haunts. Toby leaned over and wiped a spot of meringue off the corner of my lip with his napkin. "Lots of fluff on that pie, boss. Can't take you anywhere! Good thing I'm here to look after you."

"You've got crumbs in your beard stubble, guardian. Must have been a flaky crust on that apple pie. Best comb them out before we leave. Fashion plates like you can't afford to appear unkempt."

"Let's head to the men's room to clean up. Sounds like we both need it."

We found the restroom back a short hallway in a darker alcove. We pushed inside, the only two visitors at the moment. I grabbed Toby and pushed him against the wall, kissing him sloppily and thoroughly. He grunted in surprise, and I plundered his sexy mouth with my tongue. "You taste like butterscotch, dude," he managed softly, pulling his mouth away for a moment. "Sexy as hell."

I snaked my hand up his cargo shorts and fingered his balls. His weight was still on and I tugged it. "No, this is sexy as hell," I corrected as I tugged again. "But that apple pie flavor on your lips is not too bad either."

"Turn me loose so I can piss, Jace. And you'd better go, too. All that coffee and tea might make you float away. So, now if I suck you off, am I gonna be getting straight, unadulterated caffeine shot in my mouth? Your jizz gonna jazz me up?"

"Only two sperm in every load. It's my new motto," I warned him. "Caffeinated cum is the new jolly juice. Everybody knows that."

"Behave yourself. Let's finish up here so we can check out a church bazaar I heard about. They might have some neat handmade things."

"A church? They might not let us in, Toby. Some folks don't approve of our lifestyle, you know."

"It's in the parking lot, Jace. And we're not going in to hear the preaching. If you get uncomfortable there, we can always turn around and leave, okay?"

"Okay," I said uncertainly. "But if they have a stuffed raven, I'm outta there. Pallid busts are my limit."

"Let's ride before I strip you and lick your pallid bust to kingdom come," Toby urged, tossing his paper towel toward the waste bin and making the equivalent of a three-point shot. "Score!"

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The bazaar yielded a snazzy lamp and some smaller items like cute potholders and a nice cut glass dish that would be versatile for different uses. I went home happy with my purchases. Toby didn't buy anything except that strange sculpture he was determined resembled my underequipment.

As soon as we got back to my apartment and unloaded our goodies, Toby was on me like a wild beast, almost ripping off my shirt and shorts, stripping me in seconds. "Been thinking of this all day, and wanting it so bad I was almost cumming in my shorts." He stood back and surveyed his handiwork. "Nice. Super nice. Ultra nice."

He gently grabbed my foreskin and pulled, the elastic tube elongating, then sliding back to its original position. Toby never seemed to get enough of this intriguing action.

My cock rose to attention at his fondling, and he grinned up at me while continuing with his fun. "Even nicer now," and he took me in his mouth and did some amazing things with his tongue. Being naked before him while he was still clothed was a major rush, and he upped my rush meter by pulling off my cock and licking my balls like they were two sweet treats. Then he forced his head between my legs, almost upsetting my balance, licking farther and farther back. He grasped my hips to steady me, but kept going, licking and laving all of me on his way.

Suddenly, he popped his head out from between my legs and spun me around. And kept licking. "Er, Toby, I..."

"Hush, boss. I'm doin' it. Just go with it. My treat."

He kissed the globes of my pale, freckled ass lovingly, taking his time, working ever inward toward the heart of me. I shivered at the sensations, but he didn't speed up. His saliva was cool on my cheeks, and I shivered some more, marveling at how a simple tongue could make such a difference.

Toby spread my quivering cheeks and his tongue touched the top of my crack, then began its slow journey downward. He found every part of me and made use of it, sending sparklers of desire through me. Finally, he tasted my most private place, and I gasped, almost coming from the explosion of fireworks he set off on my nerve endings. I jerked, but he held me tightly, sliding his magic tongue into me, into places I hadn't explored before.