Three stores down from The Apple store was a kiosk selling jewelry, and I can see the sign advertising free ear piercing with the purchase of select ear studs. And, fuck! Rickie Ortiz sees me and he's pointing a finger at me. He's a good-looking Hispanic guy who hates me. We almost fought the first time I met him. He's about my height, five foot ten inches, but bigger and heavier. Not fat, but big-boned and built like a football player. Nice brown hair, worn in a window-washer-boys' buzz cut. Rickie is older than Chubby or me, and he's much more macho-looking, too. He has an advanced beard development that he maintained at a scruffy five o'clock shadow look.
I think of it this way; he doesn't look like someone you'd choose to fuck with unless you were a lot tougher than I am. I'm not looking for trouble. I spread my arms, like ... what? Then I spotted Chubby, who looked my way, giving me a big smile and a little wave. Oh, Rickie was pointing me out for Chubby; he wasn't interested in me. Chubby did some pantomime that I interpreted as he was in line to get his ear pierced and couldn't come to me right now. I waved again and went into the Apple Store.
Chubby doesn't belong with that crew of dropouts and hoodlums. All the window washer boys are borderline bad news, dudes. Not as bad as Joel, but two of them did drop out of school, and a third kid is in our grade at school, and always getting in trouble. Then there's the macho bully Ricky, the boss, and Chubby, the best friend I'll ever have, sweet, smiling, clean-cut Chubby. For some reason, Rickie had gone out of his way to get Chubby on the crew. He got his father, the foreman for all the window washer crews, and a partner in the company, to pick Chubby ahead of others on the waiting list.
It looks like Rickie has a thing for my five-foot-seven-inch, one-hundred-and-twenty-one-pound best friend, but Chubby hasn't looked happy coming home from work for the past month. Looking out the plate glass window from inside the Apple Store, I see an older-looking kid getting his ear pierced. I assume it's a window washer boy. Other than Chub, I don't know any of them. A fat, young-looking girl was sticking a needle through this kid's earlobe. Through his ear lobe and into a cork. The stud went through the bleeding cut, and the kid looked pale.
Rickie sneered and said something that made the newly pierced kid hang his head. Then Rickie pointed at Chubby and wiggled his fingers for Chubby to get over there. I saw a familiar look on Chubby's face. His expression said: This sucks, and so do you. When Chubby didn't get over to Rickie fast enough, he took three steps toward Chubby and got him by the back of the neck to pull him roughly toward the kiosk. Chubby's face was dark red. That embarrassed Chubby, and if looks could kill...
Watching this without going to help Chubby wasn't easy, but I knew I'd make it worse if I got involved. Just letting Chubby know I saw this would make it much worse for him, so I drifted around inside the Apple Store with Willie, feeling sick to my stomach. I know we aim to make enough money to buy insurance and get a driver's license, but at what price? Then I had a nice thought: this was Chubby's last day of work for two weeks. We'll have a blast in Wildwood and forget all about this negative shit. When we return to work, we'll already be more than halfway to our goal.
There was a Bertucci restaurant in the Mall, and after Willie was done at The Apple store, we ate there. Willie kept asking me what was wrong, and I reluctantly told him about the Wildwood vacation with my family. I wouldn't see him for two weeks unless he wanted to meet me there for a date. He wanted to know why I hadn't mentioned this before, and I shrugged, mumbling, "I'll miss you, Willie."
Then he was wonderfully magnanimous, saying he couldn't tell me the dates now, but he'd make arrangements at the motel his father was part owner of and then call my cell phone to say when he'd be there. After eating, Willie put the BMW's top up in the mall parking lot, and we made out for ten minutes. Willie really can get me hot and seriously aroused. I clung to him, thinking I liked him even more than Carl, who I realized I'm not missing all that mjuch. Huh!
As we drove into Boston, Willie told me he'd never tasted anything as delicious as me. Oh, God, haha! He's always saying sweet stuff like that to me, and I don't mind admitting it makes me feel good.
The concert was great. The warm weather, with a nice breeze blowing off the bay. Watching and listening to Badflower, a little-known alternative rock band, made for an exciting evening at the Pavilion. It's not like a Rolling Stone concert, but live music is almost always exciting. Willie and I walked outside the open-sided tent before, during, and after the concert. There were lots of food and beverages and T-shirt stands. As we wandered around, we rated young guys we saw for levels of sexiness and cuteness. Also, who were probably gay? Just for the fun of it.
Willie bought us both a Badflower T-shirt and baseball caps with their logo. All the time we walked around, Willie had his arm around my waist. It's not ideal, but I am used to the stares now. Willie taught me not to worry about what total strangers thought. Who cares? That's a good point, except not caring isn't always easy to pull off. I've become so fond of Willie by now that I'd rather please him than strangers. As for Willie, I'm convinced he's oblivious to them.
After the concert, we went to Willie's mansion. He drank a beer, and to be sociable, I forced one down too, and we listened to CDs as Willie undressed me, then himself, and then we climbed under the covers on his bed, and he got me so hot from making out and then sucking my cock I thought I'd have my second climax of the night any second. Just moments away from an explosive climax, me moaning and squirming on the bed, my hands on Willie's head, he dragged me up onto my hands and knees and fucked me hard doggy style.
I shot a screaming hot load of teen cum onto his bedspread, spray splattering back on my legs. Willie made a screechy sound shooting a wad of hot, creamy cum into my bowels, and then really monkey-fucked me for two minutes till I was hard again. We lay in his bed under the covers and hugged and made out until Willie's boner was as hard as I've ever felt a boner get. He fucked me this time as I lay on my side and I thought nothing had ever felt that good, but then, I usually think that when Willie's fucking me. I wanted to stay for a third go round, but Willie insisted he keep his promise to me, which was getting me home by one o'clock.
Outside my condo in his car, Willie held both my hands between his and made me promise to be true to him, "Dylan, if we're to continue fucking without condoms you must be faithful to me. You're my boyfriend and I insist on that. I promise not to leave you on your own for two full weeks. God only knows who will take advantage of your horniness. Listen, baby, I'll arrange my schedule to make it to Wildwood for a few days. Okay?" and he hugged me and told me how much he loved me.
I can't even describe how wonderful I felt. Whispering in my ear now he said, "I'll get a nice room in my uncle's Wildwood motel and fuck you all night, so there isn't any need for you to worry yourself about that. Lean over here now," and he held my head between both hands and sucked on the old, almost invisible hickey from Tuesday night. He sucked on it for quite a while with me holding my head in position, my dick getting hard again. Finally, I couldn't help but begin squirming and saying, "Please, that stings Willie... that's enough."
He pulled his mouth away to sternly say, "Quiet down Dylan, you're doing good," I murmured, "Yes, Willie," then he went back to sucking until I thought I'd scream. When he was through, he flicked on the interior car lights for a few seconds to look at his work, and said, "It'll do for now. I can do a better one at the shore. Come on, I'll walk you to your door".
I know, I know, Willie's being his version of Larry's dominant boyfriend taking care of his girlfriend, but it's harmless enough. Oh my God, the boners he gives me and all the stuff he buys me and all the love he shows. The least I can do is let him have his allusion. He sincerely thinks he doing the right thing for me, he means no harm.
At the door Willie says, "Damn, I hate saying goodbye, Dylan. We had our Saturday and Tuesday night dates set up just right and now this interruption for two weeks; two weeks of uncertainty. No, don't get that worried look on your cute face, I already promised I'll be down to see you. Here's your kiss goodnight," and he cupped the back of my head and gave me a good wet kiss on my lips and a long kiss on the side of my forehead and then he whispered, "I love you."
Oh man, it's so corny, but I love the way he takes care of me! He turned and walked down the steps. I think he had a tear or two in his voice when he said he loves me. He got in his car, and I watched him drive away with a boner in my pants, then smelled cigarette smoke, looked up and saw Chubby walking this way, a half block away.
What the fuck? How much did he see? If Willie had me facing that way I'd have seen Chubby as far away as three blocks. I touched my lips and thought of Willie's kisses, especially the long one on my forehead. My face got bright red because there isn't any way that Chubby didn't see that. I stand here frozen as Chubby flicks his cigarette butt all the way across the street and gives me a frowning expression as he walks up the steps, and said...
To be continued...
