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Warning, this story may contain sexual content involving men or boys. If this is not to your tastes, please leave now.

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Getting To The Good

By "J"

October, 2000 ©

 

 

 

 

Chapter IV

 

My back inched closer to the driver's side door as Craig's expanding dick reached its lengthiest dimension. "Man, what the hell are you doing?" I asked.

Craig licked his lips, grabbed his piece and leaned toward me, his eyes that same icy blue color I'd seen yesterday upon running from his window. "Don't even front, kid. We both know the deal. You wouldn't have been peeking at this dick yesterday if you didn't want it."

"Look, it's not like that." Then why were my eyes constantly drawn to his dick? "I mean, I didn't...I wasn't...see, I went...I was looking for my brother, man."

Craig nodded along to my stumbling explanation, a smile creeping at the corners of his mouth. "And how long did it take you to figure out Big D wasn't there? Two seconds, maybe? You kept watching, tho. All the way," he said, stroking out a drop of clear fluid on the tip of his dick, "until the end."

"I'm not gay." I peered out the driver's side window. It was the second time that day I'd spoken those words; to be honest, they felt stupid rolling off my lips. But I couldn't find any other answers for his question.

"Shit, you think I am, kid? Hell naw." When I looked over at him, he looked away. The conversation made my thoughts return to that day some eight years ago, when we played "house" together...and he stuck his "thing" between my butt cheeks. "You fucked me before...didn't you?"

He turned his eyes toward me. "What?"

"We were playing house, remember? You told me to lie on my stomach, and then--"

He laughed. "Yo, kid, you bugging. We didn't fuck. I just gave you a little poke. Damn, I can't believe you remember that shit," he said. "But on the serious tip, if Craig McLemore ever fucked you, you wouldn't have to ask. You'd know."

I sighed. "I guess you weren't gay back then, either, huh?"

"It ain't about that gay shit, kid," Craig said. He wagged his leaking dick at me. "This here is an equal opportunity dick, meaning every muthafucka gets an equal opportunity to get a taste. If you want some, you get some. Know what I mean?"

Craig reached for my hand. I don't know why, but I let him guide my hand over to his lap. "Touch it," he commanded. I was at that bridge, you know? You either cross it and keep going, or you turn around and go back. I had to make the choice, so I did.

"Craig, we can't do this," I said. "Not here."

"Ain't nobody at my house," he said. I smiled, glad he understood what I'd meant.

"Cool," I said. I was in a daze as I made my way back to our neighborhood, thinking, imagining, and fearing what would soon come. Each time I glanced in Craig's direction, I found him sitting there, cool and calm as a summer breeze. He must be used to this, I thought. When I pulled in front of Craig's house, he grabbed his duffel bag and hopped out. I didn't. My heart was pounding so much, I could barely hear myself think. I was nervous as hell, because I didn't know what I was getting ready to do. At the same time, I was hyped and I wanted to find out.

Craig opened the passenger door and stuck his head inside the car. "Don't chicken out now, kid. You here," he said. "Be a man, yo. Don't be no punk."

My hands trembled as I unfastened the seat belt and opened the driver's door. Craig nodded his approval as we faced each other on opposite sides of the car. On weak legs, I followed him into the house. Inside, it was so dark and quiet that it unnerved me. This felt wrong all of sudden. Craig seemed to sense my new reluctance and grabbed my hand, leading me down the hall to his bedroom.

Once inside, he closed the door and locked it. I paused at the door, inhaling the scent of after-shave, cologne and sweaty socks that permeated his room. I hadn't been here many times over the years, but the basic set-up looked the same as it had before. Craig kicked off his shoes and socks, cleared a few dirty clothes from his bed and sat down.

"You gonna just stand there, or are you gon' come over here?" He patted his bed. I had long since crossed the bridge; to back out now would be impossible. I found myself sitting on the bed next to Craig. He peeled his shirt off, and in a rush, his deodorant tingled my nostrils. He lay back on the bed and cupped himself, his dick quickly springing to life.

He placed a hand behind my head and guided my head onto his chest. Instinct led my mouth to his chocolate drop nipples. I licked one, and it instantly hardened against my tongue. Craig moaned. Taking that as encouragement, I opened my mouth over his nipple and went to work, sucking, licking and flicking it. "Bite me, kid," he said. I did. He pressed my face into his chest and arched his back, forcing my lips to sink deeper into his muscular pec.

I lifted my head and looked down at him, saw the pleasure in his eyes. Damn, I can't believe this, I thought. I'm here with this dude and we about to get down! If anybody knew about this...I pressed that thought to the back of my mind and got back to work.

I kissed my way down his six-pack abs, gliding my tongue along his hard, muscular ridges, pulling at his tight, curly hairs with my lips and teeth. I could see Craig's dick hopping around in his shorts,
straining against the material.

"Get on your knees," Craig said.

I had never, ever sucked a dick before. One of my old girlfriends once gave me head, and I'd returned the favor...but sucking dick? I didn't know if I could do it. But I had to try. I wanted to try.

I did as Craig said. He started pulling his shorts down, and I helped. He smelled of wet grass and baby powder. I stared at his piece up close, marveling at the length of it. Craig was hung a foot or more,
no doubt. Veins crawled from just below the head to the base of his shaft, crisscrossing both sides.

That's how I began--following those veins around his dick with the tip of my tongue. I loved the way his dick jumped against my tongue, and got harder and harder with each stroke. Just then, I heard a noise--like a door. I stood up, paralyzed.

"Did you hear that?" I asked.

Craig was so caught up in his own pleasure, he still had his eyes closed. "Naw, I didn't hear nothing," he said. I waited, attuning my ears to the sounds in the house. The next sound I heard was a knock--against Craig's door. He jumped up.

"Craig, it's me," his mom said. "Open up, I've got something for you."  

 

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