Date: Thu, 25 Feb 2010 16:45:11 -0700
From: ecclectic_soul@hotmail.com
Subject: Secret Admirer: Chapter 4, Suspicions

Sorry for the delay everyone! I just got back from vacation and I wanted to
make sure this installment was perfect! You know the drill—any
similarities between real people or circumstances are purely
coincidental. This chapter does have graphic sexual content so minors
beware. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it and the next chapter is on its way!

Secret Admirer: Chapter 4, Suspicions

	"That scarf is so cute, Jay!" Amy, one of my other good friends
with perfect teeth and an addiction to reality TV, exclaimed from the other
side of Cynthia. The three of us were sitting on the bleachers at the
football game, surrounded by cheering, excited fans. The game was
approaching half-time, and I was trying hard to pay attention to the game
itself instead of the tight pants and sweaty, muscular men tackling each
other on the field. The only thing Amy could pay attention to right now was
my new scarf...

	"It's like the one Tim wore on Season Two of Date My Grandma but so
much hotter!"

	I laughed. "Thanks Amy. It's really comfortable, too!"

	Cynthia rubbed one end of it between her fingers, mouthing `wow'
with a shocked expression. "That feels expensive, Jay! Where did you get
this?"

	Before I could think to fake the expected level of excitement, I
shyly blurted, "Saks..." I immediately felt regret as Cynthia's lips pursed
together and her left eyebrow rose–this signified a mixture of surprise,
anger, and curiosity that I should have been careful to avoid. I had peaked
her interest, the demanding kind that didn't let up until I was forced to
explain myself.

	Amy was the first to speak. "What?! Saks?"

	I cleared my throat. "Yep."

	Cynthia cut in. "I've been hanging out with you nonstop for the
last few weeks and I've never heard you talk about buying anything at
Saks. You would've told me, too! And when could you possibly have the time
to–" She trailed off, and then her blue eyes widened as she stared at
the scarf. They were like saucers as her mouth dropped open slowly, and
then she looked up at me in shock.

	"Oh...my...God. Oh my God, oh my God! You...you got that from him,
didn't you?" Cynthia held her breath.

	I winced and bit my lip. I might as well have shouted `yes'. I
regretted not lying as Cynthia squealed in excitement, drawing countless
stares of astonishment from other spectators. Even Amy was surprised as she
looked from me to Cynthia to me again with open curiosity.

	"Did I miss something?"

	I sighed. "I actually got this from scarf from...some guy. I don't
know who he is, but he got it at Saks and–"

	Amy interrupted me. "Wait a minute. You have a secret admirer?"

	"Yes! Isn't it just perfect?" Cynthia was practically dancing in
her seat. "You should've said that from the beginning, Jay! It's so
exciting!"

	Amy leaned over Cynthia to stroke my scarf again in awe. "Wow! I
didn't think people did that anymore! And it's not like he got you a
Wal-Mart gift card either! Saks Fifth Avenue, Jay! SAKS FIFTH AVENUE!"

	Cynthia and Amy screamed loudly in some female ritual of excitement
that drew the attention of nearly everyone in a ten foot radius. I shielded
my face with my hand, trying to cool the growing burn in my cheeks. The
announcer's voice suddenly blared over the intercom above us. "Fans are
screaming in the stands as Hunter scores yet another amazing touchdown!"

	The three of us looked to the field as the young football player
raised the ball in the air, pumping his arm up and down to the rhythm of
the home crowd's cheers–"Hun-ter! Hun-ter! Hun-ter!"  Jogging to the
sidelines, he unbuckled his chin strap and pulled off his helmet. Heat
rushed to my dick as I recognized those deep-set hazel eyes and his
side-swept brown bangs. They clung to his sweaty forehead as his brilliant
smile flashed into the cheering stands. Girls everywhere burst into giggles
and excited chatter. If good looks could kill, this game would be a
massacre, I thought as I tried to calm the vibrant pulsing in my cock. It
pushed against the crotch of my pants with eager determination. I bit my
lip and tried to think of something less arousing.

	"Hannah `Montana' must be having a blast showing him off. He is
pretty handsome, but probably dumb–such a letdown, right? There's always
something about cute jocks, some catch you don't see until you're knee-deep
in regret..."Cynthia's voice continued warning Amy as I stared down at Ryan
Hunter. I mouthed the name and found that I liked the way it felt when I
said it. He was laughing and joking around with his teammates, his sexy
grin mesmerizing me.

	It wasn't long before my gaze wandered south over his heavy gear
down to those tight gold pants stretched over his tan muscular legs. Even
with the cup, the hefty bulge between his legs was enough to make my mouth
water. I licked my drying lips as my eyes lifted back over his gear to his
face, and–and he was looking straight at me, water bottle gripped in his
right hand and water he had poured over his sweaty hair coursing down his
bronze face. His hazel eyes seemed to bore into mine as the right corner of
his lips curved up in a little smile and his left eyebrow rose.

	The expression on his face was taunting, inviting, and charged with
an echo of sex so good it would make a priest break his vows. He can't be
looking at me, I thought as I casually turned my head to peak behind me
from the corner of my eye. Two girls sat right behind me, giggling and
whispering. I sighed with a strange mixture of relief and disappointment,
turning back to see him strolling off the field and out of sight. I
breathed deep for a moment, putting the reins on the eight inches of my
anxious, leaking cock, before standing up. Shaking my head, I got up and
fished my Billabong Absolute leather wallet from my back pocket.

	"Hey, do you guys want anything? I'm starving so I'm going to hit
up the snack bar."

	Amy perked up. "Ooo, could you grab me some Sour Patch Kids? Damien
from Season XII of Simon Powell's Singing with the Stars eats them all the
time and he is so dreamy!"

	Cynthia made a fist and pushed sideways at her mouth, poking her
tongue into her cheek. I smiled. "Alright, Sour Patch Kids and a hotdog
coming right up!" I turned and headed down the silver metal steps between
bleacher seats towards the concession stand.


* * * *


	The line was long, but the chefs were whipping through orders
pretty fast. Making it to the counter in a good fifteen-minute window, I
ordered my food and waited. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon and the
sun felt good as I leaned up against the counter, my stomach grumbling at
the smell of the hot dog and cheese fries cooking. The chef brought me the
food and after telling him thank you, I turned and headed back. As I was
weaving through the people milling around, I noticed a familiar face
walking toward me. Even among the crowds of bodies around me, Tommy
Salinger's tall, lean body was hard to miss.
	He had dirty blonde hair, green eyes, and stubble framing his
jaw. Not being very expressive, his mouth was always set in a firm line
like he was trying too hard to keep from blurting some secret. Of course, I
knew what that secret was...could remember the way his mouth would soften
when it was just us, cracking into a small smile when he touched me. In
that instant, the first time we met rushed into the forefront of my mind,
setting prickles afire in my stomach.
	I had signed up for snowboarding lessons back in August, trying to
get used to the sport in preparation for the biggest winter pastime. There
was still snow high in the mountains farther north, even in late
summer. Ready in my Fred Perry Fishtale Parka, Moschino Tonal Diamond
Turtleneck, and Foursquare Trappe Snowboarding Pants, I headed out to the
practice slopes to meet with my instructor. I walked over to him with my
rental snowboard and held out my hand.
	"Hi, my name is Jay. I'm sorry in advance if I crash into you while
doing basic movements."
	His tenor laugh had helped keep the cold at bay as he gripped my
gloved hand. "Hi Jay, my name is Tommy and I'll be the guy helping to make
sure that doesn't happen."
	It had started out well as he guided me through equipment basics
and the standard body postures for moving and stopping. I had messed up on
the posture for stopping, and he had come over and attempted to help me. He
had come behind me and his roaming hands had suddenly made me realize how
attractive he was. He had moved my arms and hips into the correct
positions, with his strong gloved hands lingering on my hips. As they moved
forward toward my crotch, I had involuntarily pushed my ass back against
his crotch. I had been surprised to discover that he was hard underneath
his snowboarding pants. We had been trying out some of the smaller slopes,
and we were in a remote area behind the main building. My pulse had begun
racing as I gyrated my ass against the engorged bulge beneath his
pants. His right hand had begun massaging my pulsating dick, his quickening
breath hot in my ear as he stroked the length of my cock through my
pants. His cracking whisper had set my nerves on fire.
	"Grab my dick, baby."
	I had moaned, pulled off my glove, and reached my hand down his
pants, wrapping my hand around his warm cock and barely being able to touch
my thumb to my fingers as I massaged his dick. He had groaned and sucked on
my earlobe, moving his hips back and forth and fucking my hand.
	"That feels so fucking good, baby. God, I want to fuck you so bad
right now."
	"Mmm...yeah?"
	"Fuck yeah." He had sucked on my neck, then kissed my ear
again. "Get on your knees, baby. I want to fuck that hot mouth."
	I had dropped to my knees, and stroked my rock hard dick as he
pulled out nine wrist-thick inches of cock. Gleaming strands of pre-cum had
been hanging from the head of his dick as he waved it around my mouth. He
had slapped it against my wet lips, grinning as he pushed the head through
my wet lips and into my hot mouth. I had opened my mouth and went to work,
coating his cock in spit as I slid my lips up and down its warm, pulsing
length. I remember gagging on it as he fucked my face, shoving it into the
back of my throat and emitting guttural groans and curses. I had pulled
back and spit on it, watching the spit drip from his dick as I put it back
in my mouth and bobbed up and down on its length. I had been stroking my
own precum-wet dick and massaging his balls, tickling the space between his
balls and his ass with my fingers as I sucked and gagged on his enormous
cock.
	Finally, after gasping and groaning, he had pulled his fat cock out
of my wet mouth and blew spasms of cum all over my face just as I felt my
own cum spew from my wet dick. His whole body shook as his knees almost
buckled and he stroked the last of it into my hungry, moaning mouth. It was
sweet and creamy as it coated my warm tongue.
	"Fffuuucckkk....goddamn, that was fucking hot, baby."
	His words echoed in my mind as I stood there in the crowd, reveling
in how hot it had been and how hot it was remembering it now. As Tommy came
closer, he finally spotted me smiling at him through the crowd. I waved,
expecting him to grin and do his typical what's-up nod. His reaction
confused me–he saw me and his green eyes widened, then he glanced around
like he'd been caught doing something very wrong. Biting his lip, he
grimaced and moved forward quickly, grabbing my arm and pulling me to a
shaded area underneath the bleachers. I was having trouble recovering from
the shock.
	"What the fuck was that about, Tommy? Are you hiding from the cops
or something?"
	His face looked strained. "What do you want, Jay?"
	"Uh...nothing actually. I was just saying hi–what's wrong?
You're freaking me out."
	"Nothing! Nothing, I just...um, didn't expect to see you
here. You're not really into these things, so..." He looked visibly
relieved for whatever reason, but he was kicking the ground which was
something he only did when he was nervous or anxious. He cleared his
throat. "Anyway, how have you been?"
	"Good! Just taking a break from classes. Cynthia and Amy are here
with me." I ventured a smile, despite my uneasiness.
	"Nice. You look good, by the way. I...I like your scarf–brings
out the green in your eyes." He looked around before lifting his hand and
stroking a thumb on my cheek, the firm line of his lips softening as he
stared at me.
	My own smile had frozen on my face, a rictus of shock grabbing my
features. It felt like I'd been punched in the gut but couldn't move. No, I
thought, it can't be. Tommy spent the better part of his day on the slopes
during the winter, working his way toward a sponsorship in snowboarding. He
never went to the campus, let alone knew where I parked.
	I recovered, glancing into those green eyes I remembered so
well. "Thanks Tommy. I–"
	Before I could finish, loud laughter broke my concentration. My
head snapped around just as Tommy's hand dropped from my cheek. A few girls
were giggling and whispering to some guy in a football uniform with his
back to us. That hair...
	He turned, chuckling at something someone had said to him. Looking
around, his piercing eyes roamed until they found Tommy and me in the quiet
area several yards from where they all chatted. As soon as his hazel eyes
found mine, I nearly dropped my food as I realized who it was. Just as the
star football player's brows pulled together in curiosity, a curse slipped
from Tommy's lips.
	"Fuck! Uh...it was good to see you again, Jay. See you around?"
Before I could even open my mouth to respond, he was speed-walking toward
the sunlight as if death were biting at his heels. By the time he reached
those curious hazel eyes and his fawning groupies, he had broken into a
jog, darting around a corner and narrowly avoiding running into all of
them.
	I hesitantly followed in the same direction, too confused to wrap
my mind around what had just happened. Some muffled warning was trying to
break through the surface of my consciousness, like someone screaming
underwater. I stifled it and walked out into the sunlight. Momentarily
blinded by both confusion and bright light in my eyes, I didn't see where I
was going and tripped over a small lift in the cement. Before I could fall
and drop all the food (which was probably cold by this point–damn!), two
muscular arms caught me.
	Blinking, I looked up. I was pressed against Ryan Hunter's warm
chest, our faces inches apart as his gold-flecked eyes glittered with
concern.
	"Oh! Oh, I'm sorry! I–um..." I couldn't help but laugh a
little. "I keep crashing into you! Sorry!"
	He grinned as he lifted me from his chest and steadied my food. "No
problem! Happens all the time. So, you like to hang out underneath the
bleachers?"
	I blushed, laughing again. "Uh, my friend had to talk to me about
something. I know, lame excuse, right?"
	"Nah, it's cool. What's that guy's problem anyway? It looked like
he was running from the cops or something."
	I didn't know anymore than he did. "Beats me. He was acting kind of
weird anyway."
	"Yeah, who knows, right?" He chuckled, his deep voice buzzing up my
spine. It was so infectious that I couldn't help but smile. He extended his
hand, a big grin lighting up his bronze face. "Ryan Hunter."
	"Jay Kiernan." I took his hand, feeling his rough, warm fingers
close around mine. "Nice to meet you, Ryan."
	"Likewise, Jay."
	"Anyway, I have to take this food back before my friends send out a
search party–"
	"Oh! Oh, for sure. I have to get back to the field–"
	"Yeah, you look great out there..." I looked away, heat creeping up
my neck as I realized what I had said. I cleared my throat. "You guys all
look great out there! It's a good game so far."
	"Thanks," he said, a big grin flashing at me. "I think we got this
one in the bag, ya know?"  "Looks like it! Anyway, I'll see you later and
good luck out there."
	"Yeah, catch ya later!"
	I swiveled around and nearly ran as I made my way back to the
seats. Cynthia looked up with a where-the-fuck-have-you-been expression.
	"Sorry! I ran into...Darren Priestley!" Darren was a good friend of
ours who shared our European History class and threw really wild
parties. "Weird, right? He was telling me about the party tonight at his
house. Then they screwed up the order! It was all so crazy! I hope your
food isn't cold!"
	Amy and Cynthia exchanged an odd glance before smiling and taking
their food. Cynthia took a bite of her food, sighed in contentment, then
playfully poked me as I sat down. It was probably cold, but Cynthia wasn't
one to throw a fit. "This is so good!"
	I laughed at her muffled attempt to talk with food in her mouth. I
shoved a cheese-covered fry into my mouth so I wouldn't have to say
anything else, and then turned to scan the sidelines for any sign of
Ryan. A guy like that is probably on the field already, I thought as I
chewed slowly.
	"Hey! Earth to Jay!"
	"What? Oh, sorry! What did you say?"
	She rolled her eyes and continued. "I was asking you if you've seen
Tommy Salami yet, space cadet." She winked as I swallowed convulsively
before forcing a laugh.
	"No, have you?"
	"Actually, yeah! He looked like one of those guys on Cops–you
know, so guilty they shouldn't even bother running. It was freaky. I swear
he saw us too, but..." She trailed off, shrugging.
	"Wow, weird..." The memory of his strange behavior revived my
previous shock as I wondered what could make Tommy, a rough-and-tumble guy
by most standards, so scared."
	"Oh yeah, Amy and I spoke to Darren, too." Cynthia gave me another
look, this one causing me to purse my lips as I suddenly realized she had
caught me in yet another lie. "Maybe he already told you, but he wanted to
make sure you got his note. He said he just missed you in class so he left
it with your other stuff. Whatever it was, he seemed really nervous talking
about it, and you know Darren. Nervous isn't really his thing. What's going
on Jay? There's something you're not telling me...Jay? Jay, are you okay?"
	My mouth had dropped open and for the second time that day, shock
hit me so hard I had trouble breathing. I tried to speak, but nothing came
out as I realized with certainty that despite any suspicions I might've
had, I had no idea what was going on either.