Date: Tue, 07 Sep 2004 19:41:43 -0700
From: fritz@nehalemtel.net
Subject: I Love Corey, Chapter Twenty
Here's another chapter. I guess that means I must again write one
of these horrid warnings and disclaimers. God, will they never end?
Okay, here goes. If you have not yet attained an age that would
allow you to read this story legally, please leave before you find yourself
in trouble. I would feel bad if my story was responsible for causing such
trouble.
If you might find yourself offended by stories which deal with sex
acts between males, once again leave as this story contains descriptions of
such acts.
Since I wrote this story, that makes it my property. It is being
posted on Nifty for your own personal enjoyment. That means you may not
use it for any reason that might profit you or advance your career or
standings in society.
Once again my thanks to Ernie for his editing. Perhaps someday
I'll learn how to proofread correctly. Then again, pigs may learn to fly.
I suspect the flying pigs have a better chance of becoming reality than the
other.
Last, feel free to write and vent your anger. You can even ask
questions, leave comments, or offer suggestions. I'll try to read them and
answer them. However, I must remind you to be sure to put the actual story
name in the subject line so I don't delete you. After all, I can't answer
you if I don't read your letter and I promise you that you will be deleted
without being read unless you remember to identify your letter with the
story name. Write me at fritz@nehalemtel.net I hope you enjoy the chapter.
Fritz
I Love Corey, Chapter Twenty.
After the first round, our sexual play was a little more restrained
and gentle. In fact it consisted mostly of kissing and talking for a
while. After a certain amount of that I noticed that he was once again
hard. I decided to take matters into hand, literally. He was on his back
so I just let my hand slide down his stomach to that proud, jutting piece
of flesh. When my hand engulfed it, he seemed to like it. For that
matter, so did I. I loved the feel of it in my hand as my hand slowly
stroked it. It was warm and hard and silky and I knew he was enjoying it
so that made me enjoy it also. Somehow, giving him pleasure made me happy.
It wasn't long before I noticed his hand was headed for my pride
and joy.
"No, let me. You can work on me later."
His head flopped back on the bed and a smile flitted across his
face. He just lay there allowing me to do whatever I wanted. I knew what
I wanted. I wanted to taste him, to have him in my mouth. I decided to
work manually for a while before I switched to orally. We didn't have to
get up early so I had lots of time.
As I fondled his cock, I kissed and sucked his nipples. That
produced sighs and what could almost be described as a purr. I swear, if
he was a cat he would be purring. The sighs would be followed by a soft
groan that vibrated in his chest, more of a rumble. Like I said, he was
trying to purr. That just turned me on. It wasn't long before I just had
to taste him.
When he'd used the washcloth to clean us up, it wasn't as effective
as a shower. As I took him in my mouth I could taste the remains of our
previous lovemaking. It was faint, but distinctively Corey. It was that
which I loved. Maybe I ought to study chemistry and see if I could develop
a fake Corey flavor. Perhaps I could market it and make lots of money. If
I did that though, I'd have to share the taste. I decided against that. I
decided to keep his taste all to myself. I guess I'm just selfish. I
wasn't willing to share him.
It wasn't long before I could tell he was becoming more aroused.
The sighs got louder and the groans were no longer like purrs. They soon
became more guttural in tone. Also, both sounds became louder. His body
began to thrust upward, trying to drive himself deeper into my mouth. I
started sucking harder, trying to help him by drawing him further into my
mouth. One hand was rubbing and teasing his nipples, the other gently
manipulating his testicles. I started humming, trying to stimulate him even
more. That humming, coupled with the sucking and manipulation of his
nipples and scrotum soon produced the result I was after. He arched up
from the bed and his cock stiffened and started to pulse. I could hear
some grunts and taste the rewards of my labor.
It was a labor of love. I loved him and I loved his taste. I
found it hard to believe he was mine. Mine as much as anyone can belong to
anyone. A wave of emotion washed over me and all I could do was continue
to suck and think of how lucky I was. Unfortunately, it wasn't long before
he was done. He collapsed back on the bed and his body became limp. It
took his cock a little longer to loose its stiffness and I continued to
suck even as it softened. Only now, my sucking was softer and gentler.
It wasn't long until I knew I had to stop. Anymore might become
painful for him. I stopped and just let it remain in my mouth. I heard
his breathing slow and soon it was back to normal. When I finally released
his cock from my mouth and looked up, his eyes were closed. He had fallen
asleep. I turned in the bed and arranged myself so that he was in my arms.
All was right with my world. I quickly drifted off to sleep.
When a full bladder awakened me, he was still in my arms. I
delayed the trip that relieves so I could admire him. He was so peaceful
laying there sleeping. His blond hair sort of fell across his forehead and
I finally reached out and gently moved it out of the way so I could kiss
him. Somehow, kissing his forehead while he was sleeping seemed so right.
My bladder would no longer wait. I got out of bed and headed for
the bathroom. It was too late to go back to sleep so I went through the
usual morning routine. When I was finished, he was still sleeping so I
just headed for the kitchen to start the day.
I had the coffee finished and the orange juice squeezed when Corey
finally came straggling out to join me. He sat down, yawned, and took a
drink of juice.
"What's up today?"
I thought about that. "I don't know. What would you like to do?"
He sat there for a while, apparently thinking about his answer.
"I wish the pistol range was open. I'd like to practice some
more."
"I know a place where we could shoot. It's up in the woods and
it's also a nice place to have a picnic."
"I forgot. I don't have any ammunition. The order isn't supposed
to be here until Monday."
"Well, we could load some."
I could see the wheels turning. I don't think he'd ever heard that
term before.
"What do you mean?"
"Well Corey, we could load some ammunition for the pistol. We've
got the empties and I'm pretty sure there's some bullets. I know there's
powder and primers. I'll have to check, but it wouldn't take long to load
up some ammo for the Colt."
With that I had to go see what was available. I was right. There
were some boxes of bullets and I knew I had all the rest so I told him as
soon as we finished breakfast, we'd load some ammo and go shoot.
I suppose it's kind of odd. Here Corey had been living with me for
a couple of months but he had never been in the small room in the basement
where I'd rigged up my reloading presses. In fact, the only two rooms in
the basement he'd been in were the `sex' room, which was now cleared out
and returned to its original duty as a guest room, and the spa area which
had both a hot tub and a sauna. I suppose I should have said three because
he'd used the bathroom but I didn't really think of bathrooms as rooms.
They were just things you took for granted, like they had to be there. The
others were the ones that were interesting.
After breakfast we went downstairs and as we were about to enter
the reloading room he asked me about another doorway. That caused me to
give him a quick tour.
There was of course the guest room and the spa, along with the
necessary bathroom. The rest consisted of the room where I reloaded
ammunition, my dark room, a storage room where I had lots of shelves filled
with all sorts of things, and a big room that I'd never figured out what to
do with. At the present time it had a bunch of stuff I couldn't figure out
whether to keep or throw away. Most of it should probably be thrown away,
but I couldn't bring myself to do so. I might find a use for it some day.
The door he'd asked about was the one into the dark room.
I suddenly realized I hadn't done any of those things I used to do
to occupy my time since he came into my life. I used to take and develop
pictures and enjoy it. Since Corey, I couldn't seem to find the time.
There were always things to talk about and schoolwork to help him with.
Throw in a little time for loving him and that didn't leave much for other
things. Of course, I'd never had all that much time during football season
anyway.
It didn't take all that long to load the ammunition. I looked up
the data and set the powder measure. At first Corey was nervous about
being around the powder but I finally grabbed some cans and took him
outside. Making a little pile of powder, I threw a match in it. He
thought there'd be a big bang and was surprised when it just slowly burned
up. It took a couple of seconds for the pile to completely burn. I then
showed him the difference in other powders. I had some real slow rifle
powder and it took a lot longer to burn and the shotgun shell powder almost
flashed. As we walked back downstairs I explained about burning rates and
why you had to have different ones for different cartridges.
After the ammo was loaded, I grabbed some targets, my Unertl
spotting scope, the tripod for it and we loaded things up. I had decided
to stop and buy the picnic supplies at Downie's. We were just about to
leave when the phone rang.
It was Bob Asher. He wouldn't be able to make it for dinner
tonight as he needed to visit his son who had just become a father for the
third time. After getting all the data as to sex, length, weight, and name
I told him we'd see him whenever he got back. That meant we could stay out
later. I thought for a few seconds and grabbed a few more things and away
we went.
Downie's Market has a good deli section. I bought a chicken, some
potato salad, some baked beans, and other miscellaneous items. With that
we were off to the woods.
I was pleasantly surprised with his shooting. I hadn't realized he
was nervous the other night. Today he did quite a bit better. We had lots
of time and spent it with me coaching him and he, practicing. We shot
about half of the ammo and then had lunch.
During lunch, we talked about what he needed to do to improve. He
seemed real serious about learning to shoot well. After lunch I suggested
relaxing a little on the blanket I'd brought before we resumed practice. I
told him he would probably do better after his lunch had been allowed to
settle a little.
I haven't decided. That was either a brilliant suggestion or a
stupid one. As soon as we stretched out and relaxed he couldn't seem to
think of any thing except for the fact that he'd gone to sleep last night
without making love to me. The fact that I'd made love to him didn't
count. You know, it's kind of hard to take a nap when you have this
wonderful boy crawling all over you and kissing you. I finally gave up and
let him have his way. I felt kind of guilty. I wondered how good the
government's satellite system was. Would they be able to see what we were
doing? Could they identify us? I'd heard somewhere that they could read
license plates. None-the-less, when he managed to get my pants open and
got his hot mouth on my pride and joy, I quit worrying about things like
that. I just laid back and enjoyed it.
He took his time. That made me want to wring his neck. He had me
so hot I was shaking all over. He kept alternating between sucking and
then licking. When he'd shift his licking to my testicles, it made me
shiver all over. He really knew how to play me. I guess a couple of
months learning what turns someone on makes for that kind of a situation.
It was one of those beautiful days you get in the fall. The sun
was shining and a few clouds drifted overhead. Unfortunately, I couldn't
take in the beauty, I was too busy enjoying the sensations that Corey was
causing. Then, wouldn't you know it. I was just about there when the
sound of a vehicle intruded. Not only that, it appeared to be coming
closer.
"Corey."
"Ugmnh." He didn't seem to be able to talk very well with his
mouth full. I've warned him about that before.
"Corey stop. There's a car coming."
"Ugmnh," he responded again. I had no idea what he was trying to
say but if he didn't get his mouth off of me soon it wouldn't matter.
"Damnit Corey, quit. We're about to get caught."
"Oh shit!" He quit sucking and started trying to help me get my
pants back in place and closed. I finally got his hands out of the way and
buttoned my pants just as a patrol car drove into sight.
"Good Lord, it's the CHP. Act like were talking," I told him. I
hoped the officer wouldn't notice that Corey was blushing a bright red. I
suppose I was also. It sure felt like it.
The patrolman pulled up by my pickup and parked alongside it next
to us. He looked around and finally got out of his patrol car. He looked
a bit nervous, kind of like he didn't trust us. I suppose he had a right
to be on guard. He could see the targets set up which would let him know
we were armed. I wondered how he would handle things. He kept his hand
close to his weapon.
"Good afternoon." At least he wasn't so upset that he forgot his
manners.
"Good afternoon Officer. What can I do for you?"
"I was driving along when I noticed someone had used the road
leading here. I thought I'd check things out. Normally the gate's closed
and locked."
"Well, we were just doing some target practice and stopped for
lunch. Would you like some coffee or a soft drink?"
"Would you mind showing me your weapons?" He was polite.
"Not at all. They're in the back of the pickup. We laid them
there when we broke for lunch."
"Could you show me?"
"Sure." With that I got up, and making sure I didn't do anything
suddenly, I started walking towards the back of the pickup. When we got
around to the back of it, there lay the Colt and my Smith and Wesson along
with several boxes of ammunition. "You might want to check them so you can
see they're unloaded," I offered.
He seemed to relax a little. He still was alert, but some of the
tension was gone. He asked to see my driver's license for identification.
After looking that over he relaxed even more. In fact, he even accepted a
can of Coke.
"So, what are you doing up here? I thought this was private
property?"
"It is Officer; a friend of mine owns it and told me I could use it
any time I wanted to for target practice. He even gave me a key so I could
open the gate." While I was answering I could see him looking at the
pistols. "Want to try either of them out?"
"I recognize the Smith but that doesn't look like any Colt I ever
saw. What model is it?"
"It's a Single Action Army, Flattop Bisley version."
"No kidding. I've heard of them but never seen one."
"Want to shoot it?"
"I'd love to but I really should get back on patrol. Maybe some
other time."
"If you're free on Wednesday evening you might stop by the pistol
club. We'll be there and you could shoot it then." When I told him that,
he positively beamed. After visiting a little more, he wished us luck with
our practice and left. Somehow, that visit had taken all the starch out of
a certain part of me and we just went ahead and shot some more. Nothing
personal, but I could have cheerfully wrung the officer's neck. What a way
to break up an enjoyable interlude.
I was quite amazed at the difference in Corey's shooting. While he
still wasn't an expert, he showed signs that he might someday become one.
I figured that with some more practice he'd at least be competent. We
picked up the remains of lunch and our other gear and headed home. It had
been a very relaxing afternoon.
We cleaned the pistols when we got home. After finishing that I
glanced at my watch.
"If you'll mow the lawn, I'll start dinner." That was agreeable so
away we went, me to the kitchen and Corey to the garage to get the mower.
While I was preparing our meal I could hear the mower. It worked out
almost perfect. He finished and just had time for a quick shower before
dinner was ready.
After we'd eaten dinner we were at loose ends. Bob had been coming
over for the past few Saturday evenings and we had stopped planning
anything for them. Tonight he wasn't here and we had nothing planned.
There wasn't much on the TV so we wound up talking.
"Why do you have so many reloading presses?" he asked.
"Well, one is for pistols, one for rifles, and the big one on the
right is for shotgun shells. It's hydraulically powered."
"Why is it hydraulically powered? Does it take more power to load
for a shotgun?"
"No, it's just faster that way. If you're shooting much with a
shotgun, it takes a lot of shells."
"How many?"
"The last match I went to took almost four hundred the first day.
The second day took about two hundred and fifty." I could see his eyes get
big when I told him that.
"That's a lot of shooting."
"Not really, on the first day you've got a sixteen yard event, a
handicap event, and a doubles event. Each one is one hundred targets.
Throw in a practice round before each event and the total is three hundred
and seventy-five targets and shells. That's if you don't happen to shoot
at a broken target. If you do that, you have to shoot over so that adds
another shot."
"Do you think I could try that?"
"Don't see why not. We'll have to get you shotgun because all of
mine are too long for you but there's no reason why we can't."
A little more talk about trap shooting and downstairs we went. I
fired up the Ponsness Warren press and we spent the rest of the evening
reloading shells. By the time we were ready for bed, we had almost three
cases. That figured out to almost fifteen hundred shells. Now all I had
to do was come up with a shotgun short enough for him. I'd have to think
about that. The biggest problem was that tomorrow was Sunday and the trap
club shot on Sunday afternoons along with Friday evenings. It might be
Friday before we could shoot.
Some nights are made for cuddling. Tonight was one of them. We
never got past the kissing and holding. That seemed to satisfy both of us.
I loved the feel of him in my arms. He was so warm and alive. Add a few
kisses with a little tongue and you have the makings of a very enjoyable
finish to a good day. Actually, there were more than a few kisses, but I
didn't really count. After all, this wasn't about keeping score. It was
about what made each of us happy. Needless to say, we kissed the number of
times we wanted to. No more, and no less.
Finally he dozed off. He was in his favorite position; head on my
chest, one arm across my body, and one leg draped over one of mine.
I always used to sleep on my side but since Corey came into my life
I've learned to love sleeping on my back. That allows him to cuddle up to
my right side and get in his favorite position. He'd slept on the other
side of the bed for a short while when his knee was operated on, but now we
were back to the way we preferred. If I could just get him to stop
drooling.
To be continued.
CHP is an abbreviation for California Highway Patrol