I discreetly stalked my potential new friend for a week, learning everything I could from a distance. I learned his name was Max by sitting at the back of the class in the one subject we shared together. I learned he never went into the cafeteria at lunch, preferring to sit at one of the picnic tables in the courtyard. It took me three days to realize he didn't eat lunch. He sat in the sun and read, usually a comic book. Some days, he didn't show at all, leaving me wondering where he had disappeared to. The mystery that was Max was one I was eager to solve.
The weekend I went on Christmas break, I was sitting in the living room, watching Teen Titans on television when the phone suddenly rang. It scared the crap out of me because I had never heard its shrill sound before, deafening in the quiet cabin. Only half noticing it when I cleaned the house from top to bottom after I first arrived, I paid it little attention, assuming it was just a relic from the days before cells.
"Hello?" I asked into the handset.
"Hey, kiddo!" It was Kurt. "We're going out tonight, so don't cook."
"What's the occasion?" I asked curiously. Lately, we almost always ate in.
"I have a buddy coming over tonight," he answered. I could almost hear a smile on his face. "We're celebrating, so dress up, and leave me some hot water."
"Will do," I promised. He hung up without saying good-bye, a habit I would eventually learn was deeply engrained in him.
I finished watching my show, then took a shower, dressing in a sweater and new jeans. Returning to the living room, I waited for Kurt to come home by reading one of my graphic novels. The story was pretty pedestrian, but the art was top class.
Kurt came home, gave me a quick kiss, full tongue, like he missed me badly, and started stripping out of his clothes. I followed him silently into the bedroom, watching his strip. I could not get enough of seeing his big flaccid cock swinging wildly in front of his buff, hairy body.
"Need something?" he asked, crooking an eyebrow at me.
"Nope, just enjoying the show." He laughed and entered the bathroom. I returned to my book.
A few minutes later, as Kurt was dressing, there was a knock on the front door. I opened it and found a strikingly handsome young man standing on our porch. He had dirty blonde hair that curled upward under his baseball cap, with a matching Van Duke that looked like it needed a trim, and pale blue eyes that looked me up and down in an approving manner. He was tall and lanky, dressed in a soft blue flannel under an old denim jacket with jeans that matched.
"Well, hello there," he smiled at me, his teeth ridiculously white, "You must be Parker."
"I am," I heard myself say, my voice croaking through a suddenly dry mouth.
"I'm Bobby," he told me, offering his hand in greetings, "Is the old man ready yet?"
"Almost, I think," I said, shaking his hand. I stepped aside to let him in, getting a good look at his firm ass as he passed by. I may have only been fucking Kurt for a little while, but I knew a nice ass when I saw one.
Kurt came out of the bedroom and greeted Bobby. They slapped each other on the shoulder and shook hands enthusiastically. There was excitement in the air, but I had no idea why.
Without a word, the three of us headed out, confirming that we would all take Kurt's truck into town. That meant that I would have to sit in the middle, scrunched in between two hot men. That concerned me, knowing I would have a raging hard-on long before we arrived at the restaurant, and no room in my tight jeans to hide it.
Outside, I caught a glance of Bobby's car. It was a black 1967 Chevy Impala, the same kind of car that Dean Winchester drives in Supernatural. I had to look it over, checking out its perfect interior, following the clean lines of the body.
"Like it?" Bobby asked, smiling like a proud dad.
"I love it!" I told him, "She's a pretty girl."
"She's yours," I heard Kurt say. I spun around to look at him with shock.
