Hello. Welcome back to another chaptered story. This takes place in the same continuity of my previous story, 'Racing Into the Night', and occurs within the same family. You don't need to have read that story before starting this one. I am pleased to say that this story does have a happy ending...but we have to work hard to get there, first.
When Morning Comes
Chapter 1 - Oblivion
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Watching the diner's door closely, I watched for the huge, looming form of my Tito Jonathan. When he crossed into frame, I pounced on him, catching him unawares. My uncle let out a deep grunt, putting a hand on my shoulder to steady himself while I just tossed him a broad grin.
"Nate!" he said with his softly annoyed smile. "Careful, dude. I've been on my feet all day. I'm about ready to keel over."
The scene in the diner in the mid-winter was busy, with people meandering in and staying in to find shelter from the falling January snow. I had been waiting for my uncle to get off work so he could pick me up on the way home. Today, I was meant to help him set up his furniture in his new apartment.
"Goddamn, old dude," I said with a puff of air as we sat down. "You sure you're going to be able to lift a single box today?" He shot me a dangerous look over his glasses while he unfolded a menu.
"You wanna run your mouth like that while free lunch is still on the table?" I rolled my eyes at him, waving him off. "I thought so. Brat." I stuck my tongue out at him. That was my relationship with my Tito Jon.
We had grown close in the six years since I'd come out--and the two years since he had, too. Mom and dad had silently since re-adopted him as an unofficial older brother to me. Perhaps it was part of the outpouring of pity they held for him since his explosive divorce, which coincided with his coming out.
I didn't really know the details of that, though, and I never asked, either; he didn't want to tell me anything, so I didn't pry. I was just there to move some boxes. And to get some free lunch. We ordered, and when it came, I tucked in right away, to the sounds of my uncle's conversation. We went up and around all manner of topics, and eventually, we landed on the topic of--drumroll please--men.
"Your boyfriend you used to have," he muttered, his eyes full of curiosity. "Nick? What'd he do again?"
"Oh, Niki?" I wanted to roll my eyes. "Guy who cheated on me while we were in the Philippines for Lolo Max's funeral? Nothing major." Tito Jon winced.
"Fuuuuuck. That bad?" He went back to digging at his fries. "Sorry to open that wound again...."
I shrugged. "It's nothing, honestly. Dude, like, a month after he confessed to it.... Like, yeah, I was sad, but I was back on the apps. 'Cause what was I gonna do? Just be sad about it? Fuck no, man."
Tito Jon smiled helplessly. "I don't know how you millennials do that shit so easily," he murmured. "Maybe I'm just too old for all of that...that app stuff. I mean...I'm just so tired and old."
"Can't speak for all of my generation, but I know how I do it: hella fuckin' easy!"
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Niki Janetschek
Niki Janetschek (8:34): hey. sorry to be bugging you rn.
(8:36) are you home? just wanna talk.
(8:51) can you look at your phone nathan please?
What an annoying message to have to address while I was already getting head, from someone who definitely wasn't my now-ex-boyfriend. He didn't have the decency to let me just forget about him and try to move on in the new best way I knew how: casual sex with strangers.
The first new mouth around my cock since my breakup was attached to some guy who was bunched up on my car floor. I stretched out in the backseat. Washed in a deep shadow of a brand new construction project in the suburbs, I could barely see, but I could feel him and hear him. He gagged thirstily on my cock, the familiar sound filling the air in my car. My windows fogged up while I ran my hand through his curly hair.
"So fucking good," I moaned like I wasn't just a little bit pissed off about the message. I concentrated on how good he was making my dick feel. And he was making it feel real good.
"You like it?" he asked, a coy giggle coming into his voice. "I like your cock. Really like your cock." For good measure, he stroked me up, then down, his cute chubby fingers not quite closing around my fat, seven-inch shaft. I could feel my precum squeezing out of me, and he lapped it up.
I moaned as I felt him roll my nuts around in one wide, warm palm. I felt my belly shake with the flush of pleasure that spread from my cock. My thighs were becoming sweaty while he worked on me. Reaching up, I kneaded my chest, my firm tits while he sucked. I was on cloud fucking nine.
Not that I hadn't been in at least some kind of delirium every day the whole week. In between being high as often as I could be, and now reinstalling a hookup app and using it, I didn't have time to feel like a regular person. One with feelings that weren't pure pleasure, or deep, forgetful oblivion. Shit felt incredible--it had to. My hedonistic era was going real well so far. Or it should've been.
'Message from Niki Janetschek.' Man, shut the fuck up.
"Who keeps messaging you?" he mumbled when he pulled off my cock for a moment. Instead of sucking, he stroked, and the wet slapping sound was music to my ears.
"Someone else from Growlr," I lied with an irritated sigh. "Slept with him once."
Stroke, stroke. "Ah." And he just went back to sucking. At least someone here understood it. I put my hand back where it belonged on the back of his head, and I felt his wide tongue stroke against my sensitive cock. Numbly, I surrendered myself to the feeling of this head job. Pleasure swam in my head, filling the cracks that anxiety was leaving behind.
The only sounds in my car for the next few minutes were moaning, wet slurping and the telltale sound of jacking off, interrupted at times by my phone vibrating. It got so annoying I just stuck the thing in the fucking front seat. I was determined to get my shit off with this guy.
I had parked my car in a dark, in-development area of his neighbourhood; the deep, inky shadows provided the perfect cover for this hookup. I revelled in the feeling, enjoying the newness of having a different mouth on my hefty meat. I thought it was a nice little treat after a breakup. My eyes adjusted somewhat to the gloom, and I reached out to touch him.
"You're fucking amazing," I purred, stroking his soft, round cheek. I couldn't really see shit; his round, moon-like face was a swatch of blue in the shadow. He moaned, panting his approval. The truth was, he was just decent--but a bad blowjob is still better than no blowjob, if you were asking me. I could feel his arm shaking against my leg; he was jacking off.
He had shown me his adorable, short but fat cock in pics. His round, perfect ass. Hell, I wished I was fucking him right now. I wanted to make him moan like a bitch; fill my head with just his sounds. Become lost in them. That was everything I needed.
"God, what a nice cock," he moaned, the choke of heightened arousal coming into his voice. Then, he said the most beautiful of phrases: "Please fuck me?"
"You want me to fuck you, baby?" I purred, stroking his cheek. And he nodded, slurping at my cock as he went. I felt myself drip at the memory of the beautiful hole he'd shown me. He groaned around my stiffness, and slurped on my shaft, hard. He tightened his lips, suctioning me like a vacuum. "My car's small though. How can we do this?"
"Outside?" he suggested, his breath hot against me. "Nobody lives around these houses yet. Construction's gone for the day."
Fuck yeah. My smile went wide, and I leaned in to kiss him, tasting myself on his mouth. Sweat, toothpaste, weed, and dick. Cool air rushed in as I opened the side door above my head, practically spilling out. The few stars in the sky were blotted out by clouds and the city's haze of lights. We manoeuvred out of the backseat--me with my pants still around my ankles--and soon I had him lined up against the door.
"Fuckin' look at that," I growled against his ear, pressing a fat finger against his winking hole. He had come pre-lubed, like a proper bitch. He knew exactly what he wanted tonight. "You were ready for this. You're gonna take my fat dick."
Once I'd gotten a condom and some lube on myself, I used the remainder of my lube to squeeze my fingers inside him. Slowly, slowly, but fuck me--I was real impatient. First one, then two of my thick digits were spreading his hole. At the start, he fought me--probably instinctually--the shock of being outside in the cool night keeping him sober. But I leaned in, my fingers in his hole and my cock against his cheek. He melted in my grip.
"You wanna get fucked?" I whispered to him, pressed against his back. He nodded, his breath forming clouds against my car's window. Seeking his depths, my fingers navigated his hole; the effort made him pant and groan. Music to my ears. I kissed the back of his neck; cooling sweat met my lips.
"Please put it in me," he whined, reaching backwards to push my body deeper into him. He couldn't reach around both of us; two perfectly hefty men about to fuck like animals in the wide open world. All pretences of teasing were gone.
I lined my sheathed cock up against his hole, feeling around for the familiar sensation of the entrance. A choking sensation came up unbidden in my throat, but I willed it away and sank in.
"Oh fuck!" His tunnel closed around my cock so insistently, with such intense warmth. The feeling was both familiar, loved, and at the same time, foreign. Three, four, six, then seven inches in, and I bottomed out in him.