Date: Mon, 9 Feb 2015 23:03:06 -0600
From: Oowatanabe . <ohwantanabe@gmail.com>
Subject: Fuck or Flight Ch 3

Don't read this if you aren't of legal age to view this where you live. It
contains sexually explicit material. All names, places, and events are
entirely fictional, and any similarities to real-life events are entirely
coincidental.

Rights to this story lie exclusively with Nifty and myself. If you wish to
reproduce it in part or in whole, contact me. Do not reproduce otherwise.

Please consider donating to nifty. It's an amazing resource that would be
nearly irreplaceable if we were to lose it. Even a small amount can help.

I was worried this one was too warm and fuzzy, but I salvaged it in the
end. The fan mail is always appreciated and has kept me motivated. Let me
know what you think. In case you're thinking of giving up on me, the next
chapter will have a little more than just sucking and angst.

* * *

He'd left the party and left me frustrated. It almost seemed beside the
point to go back inside. I didn't belong there anymore, I was wrapped up in
complicated emotions, not to mention dried cum, and I thought both would be
evident to anyone who looked at me.


According to my watch it was nearly 4 a.m. though and my bag was inside. As
quietly as I could I slid open the glass door through which I could see
that the festivities had died down significantly. I tiptoed past drunkenly
amorous couples and even more inebriated unconscious people. After digging
around the closet for my messenger bag I slipped out the door, onto my
bike, and into the dark and cold January morning.


* * *


Every school day, when I could manage to do so without someone looking over
my shoulder, I checked my email. A week passed and I even went to the
library on a Saturday and waited twenty minutes for the ancient macintosh
there to boot up.


Nothing.


I knew I shouldn't worry, and be casual about it, it wasn't anything
serious, I was likely just a booty call. I couldn't help but be a bit put
off. Not even a test message to see if I'd written my address down right.


I wished I still had a cell phone, I thought to myself as I rode to class
the following Thursday. I had woke and smoked the last of my weed, so I was
less concerned about the assignments I hadn't completed and more bothered
by my paucity in money, pot and cock.


Having money would mean getting another job and that would mean months of
sobriety, likely cutting my hair, and almost certainly dealing with moron
coworkers and customers and a boss who was a pain in my ass. And not like
my last manager at the Dairy Queen, who had liked to fuck me in the walk in
refrigerator. And in his car. And once his kid had gone to bed.


Jobs aren't all bad, admitted as I locked up my bike. The only obvious
prospect for that kind of arrangement was the pervy indian guy at the
corner store, and I had some self respect.


It wasn't until compsci after lunch that I could check my yahoo
account. Very appropriately, in my suspect messages file was an email from
an Alexlexus@aol.com. Suspect is right, but I opened it anyway,


"Yo. Cj. Gonna be in town Tomorrow. Play hooky and I'll take you out the
the movies or maybe a milkshake. I've been wanting to see that new Lord of
the Rings show. Bring an overnight bag and we'll stay at a buddy's. I'll
pick you up at 10 a.m.  Keep your ass clean, Alex"


What the hell was that? I could catch the sarcasm, but this sounded like a
date. It had been a while since I've been on one of those and I certainly
wouldn't have expected it from Alex.


Ugh, I thought to myself as I wasted the rest of the class period
clandestinely playing Oregon Trail, I had only met him once and he was
already fucking with my head.


* * *


 I don't really know where my mom was last night, but I hoped she wouldn't
be back soon. It was 9:45 and I was showered, fixed up and ready to go. I
could really use a joint though.


I stomped through the house in anxiousness. You might not think a little
guy can stomp, but I get yelled at for it enough. Stairs, hallways; It has
a satisfying physicality. And it was aided by my prized possession, a black
leather pair of military surplus boots I got for a steal. In this case,
$20, not an actual theft. Purple houndstooth girl jeans matched the new
highlights in my hair.


I hate waiting.


Actually, my mom might have a stash, I could light up quick before my
date. Date, yeah, I'd settled on calling it that. A guy can hope.


My mom's room was the dirtiest in the house. Every other room in the
trailer would be that way if I didn't keep it up. With the help of a stool
I eliminated the top of the closet as a weed hiding spot. I was looking at
the back of her underwear drawer when I heard a pounding coming from the
living room. I slammed the drawer shut as I bolted to the front door. I
fumbled with the lock and opened it wide.


No one was there.


Seriously, the doorway was empty. Could it have been hail or maybe a
neighbor? I stepped over the threshold and got the scare of my life.


All at once I couldn't see and arms were wrapped around my torso pinning my
limbs down. I just about jumped out of my skin.


"Guess who," a playful voice asked from behind me.


"Goddamnit, fuck you!," I yelled. It was obviously Alex.


He laughed as he uncovered my eyes and I turned around. He seemed just as
tall in the daylight. He was enjoying himself far too much.


"I could have had a heart condition," I muttered, rubbing my arm where he
had been a bit rough.


"Or hiccups," He suggested," All in all it evens out."

I couldn't glare and laugh at the same time, and I think my attempt at it
was making it even funnier.


"So this is Chateau C.J., why don't you take me on the tour," He said,
wiping a tear from his eye.


I was a bit sensitive about living in a trailer, and since he hadn't
recognized the address when i gave it to him, I knew the jokes were
forthcoming.


I turned on my heel and steamed as I pointed at the kitchen, the living
room, the dining room, avoiding looking in his direction. We got to the
hallway in the back and he grabbed me again and pushed me up against the
wall and kissed me.


Like out of a pressure valve all the steam escaped. He had to bend his
knees a bit to get to where he could kiss me from above, the wind was
knocked out of me and his couple day old stubble was scratching up my
face. It was awkward, but incredible.


When he finally broke the kiss he grabbed my hand and motioned down the
hall.


"Is that your room, cutie?"


I nodded, still discombobulated.


"Well, come on," He pulled me in faster than my legs could take me


He let go of my hand and laid out on my bed and looked around. His feet
hung off the edge, there wasn't much space in a twin size once Alex was on
it.


"Good thing I made arrangements, might as well sleep in my car as on a
thing like this," he said absentmindedly as he took out what looked like a
joint and a lighter," Do you really read all these? I've always wondered
that about people with lots of bookshelves, if it's just a decorative
choice."


It's not really how I expected this to go.


"Uh, most of them, many more than once," I said," I'm the reason they put
those theft detectors at the library."


He smiled at that and didn't ask me if it was ok before lighting up. I
didn't even have an ashtray in here.


I put my annoyance aside and sat down where he was patting on the bed and
undid my boots. Watching me he kicked his Van's off and they fell with a
thud. He backed up a bit and let me lay next to him.


His smell was familiar, weed and tobacco, musk and sandalwood. I felt a bit
tense, even after he put his arm around me, although I was glad to have it
I was close to falling off the edge. I wouldn't have said he was the
snuggling type. I took a draw from the joint and settled my head on his
shoulder.


"You know, lots of guys who travel a lot have a girl in every town, a boy
is much better in my opinion," He mused.


It was a weird thing to say and it made me feel a bit cheap, but we were
laying on 180 thread count sheets. This was an odd turn on his part, and
experience had made me wary of people whose mood changed so dramatically
every time I saw them, but it sure was nice while it lasted.


"Why do you travel,"I ventured after we'd gone a few rounds," What do you
do."


His face darkened a bit and he furrowed his brow," I work for my family."


"Can't be too bad, you get to travel," I said, hoping to defuse things,"
Last time I worked for my family my mom paid me $1 to wash her car."


"Wow, if that's the going rate, this'll be a cheaper date than I thought,"
he joked.


A date. I guess that's what it was. I couldn't help myself but smile a bit.


We got higher, and with his jacket on and arm around me things got
warm. Still, every so often I'd cuddle a little closer. He put his arm a
little farther down my torso. I'd brush the hair out of my face and feel
his chest with my elbow. Movement by movement, these little touches became
louder than the conversation. And all at once we stopped talking and,
putting the joint out in a very manly gesture with wetted fingertips, he
was on me again. Kissing, gnawing down my chin and to my neck. His hands
found purchase and I let out little gasps and shivers.


Things were getting too hot so he threw off his sizeable hoodie. His
underarms were a bit damp and his smell was filling my senses. I could feel
the tightness of my groin and I could certainly feel him. Bulging into my
thigh it was nearly ominous, and menacing in its size.


His hands were on my shoulders and I took my queue, even though I didn't
want to be parted from his lips. I knelt between his legs and put my mouth
on his crotch, looking over at him as I pushed my hair aside and tongued
his zipper. There was that big buckle again, and once it and his top button
were undone he lifted up a bit so I could pull down his pants. I wanted all
I could get so I pulled them all the way off. His legs were lean and
muscular and covered with dark hair and they jerked a bit once I made
contact with his cock.


Even through his boxers he tasted and smelled a bit raunchy, a bit stale
and of the road. If I hadn't already been buzzed, it would have been enough
to make me lightheaded.


Little kisses and wetting up and down the underside of his cock made him
shift in place even more. He was digging into my shoulder by the time I
pulled down his underwear.


It stuck up an an angle, 45 degrees or so and was almost bigger than I
remember. His foreskin clung to the bottom of his glans and a strand of
precum was wetting his t-shirt.


I had dreamed of that cock. I'd practiced keeping my mouth open wide every
day so I'd do better this time. I didn't want to give him any occasion to
be dissatisfied. Fortunately my mouth was watering when I leaned over
slightly and brought the head between my lips and past my teeth.


He let out a growl as I began working my way down. I suctioned hard as I
would travel down and then lick the head once I pulled up again. Getting a
cock down your throat is a matter of loosening up, almost swallowing, but a
head like his was hard to take.


I took breaths when I could and gurgled rather than gagged. He started
squeezing my shoulders and the back of my neck, running his fingers through
my hair and grabbing the back of my neck. For now he was content to let me
stay in control, but he caught a hand on the back of my head and the edge
of my jaw as if to tell me he'd take over if he wanted to.


I was so turned on I was bucking my hips, my ass in the air as his pubes
were up my nose. The tight fabric of my underwear and skinny pants didn't
allow much friction, but my dick was throbbing anyway. I'm sure I was wet.


I was taking it all in now with every descent. Without any warning he
gently pushed my head down and sat up. Reaching over to my clothed ass he
gave it a slap. I was between his thighs and in deep focus when he pushed
his hand down the back of my pants. I'd shaved and showered a couple hours,
and when his fingers grazed the sensitive skin between my buns I moaned
onto his dick. He would put pressure on my hole without going in, push up
on my perineum and give me a slap. I was drooling, which helped, and he
began twitching and growling.


"Ah shit, shit shit shit," He was clawing my ass as he came.


There was a lot of it. The initial jets of his cum hit the back of my
throat but I pulled back so I could get it in my mouth. It was salty and
testosterone essence.


I gave his head one last suck as I sat up, keeping his cum from dripping
out. He gave me a dreamy look and I opened my mouth and showed him that I
was nearly full of his cum. Then I made a big show of gulping it down. It
was thick and warm and burned mildly and settled heavily in my stomach.


"You are a little cum whore," He marveled," there isn't much you won't let
me do to you, is there?"


I wanted to protest, but my mouth was slick and surely reeked of cum. My
cock was hard, my ass tingled and I felt smaller than usual. It wasn't all
I wanted, but on the top of my list was to be Alex's fucktoy, his
receptacle. It felt right in a wordless kind of way, a void or a keyhole
that I wanted filled, as often as I could.


What should I say? Should I spill everything, that I wanted it, I needed
it. Would he lose interest I seemed too eager? Did he like squeezing all my
resistance out? Did he want to win me over with every abuse. "Yes I'm a
slut, fuck me, treat me however you want," is that what he wanted me to
say?


I was shaking, I didn't know how to go forward, and maybe it was a lie that
I had any control over what happened next anyway.


I did the only thing that felt right. I fell forward on his chest and
surrendered without a word. I breathed deep of his scent and looked up into
his eyes.


He knew.