An Army Brat and a White-Vined Park Bench (Part 2 of 2 Parts)

 Markwildyr.com,Post #256

 

Image Courtesyof Amazon:

 

Hope Christmas went well foreveryone. Now we have to get past New Year’s… especially New Year’s Eve. Staysane, everyone.

 

The last post saw Layton Dunelton, anarmy brat, going through his usual bout of loneliness when his father istransferred to a different base. A piece of graffiti on the school bathroomstall set him looking for a particular bench in a nearby park where he observeda casual pickup.

This story picks up a week later when he returns to the parkbench and spots one of the college kids involved in last week’s tryst. The kidboldly approaches Layton, introduces himself as Ken, and asks what Layton thoughtabout what he saw the previous Monday.

 

* * * *

ANARMY BRAT AND A WHITE-VINED PARK BENCH

“Uh, like what?”

“Well, what did you think ofmy bare butt, for one thing?”

“Tried not to think of it atall.” There, that was better. No stuttering that time.

“Tried not to? That means youdid. Care to give it a rating?”

“Uh….” Damn, stuttering again.Maybe not stuttering, but pissing around before answering the question. Samething. “Not that experienced at rating guy’s asses.”

“Don’t give me that. Good-looking,built guy like you? I can tell you’re an athlete. Athletes shower with guys. Soyou’ve seen plenty of bare, male butts.”

“Guess so.”

“Know so,” he said, clampingonto my thigh above the knee in a macho, goodwill sorta way. But he left hishand there, and it burned like his hip against mine did. I dunno why, but Ididn’t push it away. Didn’t do anything.

Ken turned his head to look atme. “Make you curious about anything else?”

“No… uh… I dunno.”

He flashed a smile, making himhandsomer than any movie star I’d ever seen… sexier, at any rate. That thoughtrattled me some, I can tell you.

“Dunno means you’re not closedto the suggestion. But first, maybe you’d like a feel?”

“Feel? W-wha’da ya mean?”

He moved his hand up my leg. “Oh,like this, for example.”

I clamped my legs together,trapping his hand.

“Relax,” he said in a soothingvoice.

I did, and his hand went towork. I’ve heard of blind people “seeing with their hands,” and while thosechocolate brown eyes weren’t blind, that hand’s examination was so thorough it musthave known exactly what I looked like beneath my trousers.

He spread his legs, whichpushed his left one hard against my right. “Your turn.”

Like it had a mind of its own,my hand reached out and came to rest on the inside of his thigh. Then it wentdumb.

“Go on,” he said. “Take a goodfeel.”

So after a good look around tomake sure nobody was nearby, I did. One touch, and that monster beneath his sweatpantsstarted growing. Before I knew it, I was holding onto a throbbing tube of fleshyearning to be free.

I was gonna let go, but hereached for me again, his arm trapping mine where it was. So help me, thistime, I reacted the same way he had. Junior grew and got muscular fast.

“Impressive,” Ken said, givingthat loopy grin that made him handsomer than all get out.

“Y-yours too,” I heard my ownvoice say. Damn, first my hand acted on its own, and now my voice box went independent.

Taking me by surprise, heremoved his hand and yanked down his sweatpants, exposing an excited monster.It bobbed around like that blind eye at the tip was hunting for a home.

“Somebody’ll see!” Iwhispered.

“Nobody around. Take hold ofit.”

My hand became animated againand obeyed. Man, talk about hot. It was physically warm. My hand, actingindependently again, pumped it a couple of times.

“Feels good, Layton. Feelsgood. Now yours.”

I’d lost the ability toresist, so I just lay back against the bench and let him do what he wanted. Mytrousers had a belt, but it didn’t take him any time at all to overcome thatobstacle. And just like his, mine bobbed and weaved like it was looking for afight. His hand around it about sent me out of my senses, especially when thathand started moving up and down. He sighed as I did the same.

“You one good-looking stud,”Ken said, a sigh in his voice.

“Y-you are too. Reallyhandsome. Bet you could have any girl you wanted. Why’d you want me?”

He leaned his shoulder againstmine while both our hands worked like crazy. “You’re prettier than any girl Iknow, Layton. You’re sexier than that guy I met here last week, and he was areal looker, I can tell you.”

“I’m… uh… ah… oh… not.”

Ken stretched his legs. “Oh,but you are. And you’ve got a great touch. Uh-oh. Getting serious here.”

“You… you do too. Serious… over…here too.” My legs spasmed. My belly contracted, and Junior let loose with a gushof hot sperm.

“Atta boy!” he breathed. “Spewedlike a volcano! Ungh, oh my. Here… I… come!”

And come he did. For a longtime. Forever, it seemed like.

Finally, we both lolled backagainst the bench breathing heavily. After a minute or so, Ken took out a cleanwhite handkerchief and cleaned me off before tending to himself. I’ll swearthat scrap of cloth was sopping wet by the time he finished. As we restored ourclothing, he glanced over at me.

“Well, how was it?”

“Great.”

“Your first time… with anotherguy, I mean?”

“Uh-huh.”

“How do you feel about it?”

“How do I feel? Worn out.”

“No regrets? No recriminations?”

“Why would I?”

He shrugged, and although Iwas sexually sated, I experienced a brief pang of lust. “Some guys feel like it’swrong, and they’re mortified afterward. Me, I just enjoy the afterglow.”

“Afterglow?” I asked. “Yeah,that’s it. Afterglow.”

“I like you, Layton.”

“Me too. I mean, I like you,Ken.”

“Wanna meet again? Lots ofthings I can teach you.”

“Better than… you know, whatwe just did?”

That devastating grin again. “Lotsbetter.”

*.*.*.*.

Seems like thecollege boy was looking for more than just telling Layton to keep his mouthshut. As a matter of fact…. Well, I won’t say more, because we’ll likely seemore of Layton and Ken later.

 

As I said in thelast post, JMSBooks is bringing out another short story anthology titled Huntinghawk,An Anthology for publication in February of next year. I’ll keep youposted.

 

My contactinformation is provided below in case anyone wants to drop me a line:

Website and blog: markwildyr.com

Email:markwildyr@aol.com

Facebook:www.facebook.com/mark.wildyr

X: @markwildyr

Now mymantra: Keep on reading. Keep on writing.You have something to say, so say it! (Don Travis keeps reminding me I stole it from him, but he didn’tcopyright it. His bad.)

 

See you later.

 

 

Mark

 

New posts the first and third Thursday of the month at6:00 a.m., US Mountain time.