Date: Sun, 15 Nov 2015 22:23:28 -0800
From: Kyle Weaver <krazytop@gmail.com>
Subject: The douchebag and the hole--part 15

Part XV

I peered through the blinds to see what was causing the noise.

There was a sleek, shiny black sports car outside by the driveway, the
engine revving.

Roy sat behind the wheel, sporting a pair of sunglasses, and loafing with
his hands behind his head.  The car was set to park, and Roy pumped the gas
pedal for show.

About a week had passed since Erica introduced me to Matt, and I'd had time
to retreat into myself and act childlike around my family.  Roy had agreed
to pick me up today, the not so special day after Christmas, which frankly,
wasn't so special this year around either.

I pouted like Roy was prone to do.

I jumped downstairs two steps at a time, yelled an indistinct goodbye to my
parents, and staggered outside.  It was brisk; the fog had been stubborn
today, and wisps lingered all around.  A hint of sunlight dug through the
clouds near the horizon, but it was too weak to choke out the mist.

I crept into the seat of Roy's car and we were off a moment later.

"Sweet ride," I said.  Hopefully I wouldn't sound like a Martian to a guy
that used phrases like `hard-ass' and `toke.'

"You are wondering how I afford it?  Underneath it's nothing special, but I
did a lot of body-work."

"So it's like Duke."

"You don't mean that."

"I don't know what I mean anymore."

I wanted to tread on, but I didn't want to put him in a position to defend
his friend.  I didn't want to argue.  Duke fucked up; it wasn't up for
debate.  Maybe there was nothing to say, anyway.

Roy smacked his lips together, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
"I know this really great coffee place around here.  Did you want to eat at
the shop, or did you have some place to go?"

"There is one place I like to go to."

"Where is it?"

"Don't laugh—but it's a rest stop on the highway.  We call it Lookout
Point."

"Why would I laugh at that?  You are the one always laughing at stuff."

"What?  What do I laugh at?" I asked indignantly.

He smacked his lips a few more times and I crossed my arms.

I couldn't help but chuckle a few minutes later when he pulled up to the
drive-through.

"Roy—this is Starbucks."

"Yeah; it's good.  Have you been here before?"

"My friends like to hang out at Sonic, but every once in a while, I like to
shake things up a little.  Sometimes, when I get really crazy, I even go to
a place that's not a multi-billion dollar international chain."

"This is why Duke pushes you around, you realize that?  You provoke
people."

"I do not.  Duke is the one always pushing people's buttons."

"Maybe both of you are.  Maybe that's why there is so much electricity
between the two of you."

He ordered a Latte; I got the Strawberries and Cream.  I described how to
get to Lookout Point, but his eyes darted back to my drink several times
while I spoke, still shaded.

"You know," he said, "I thought you would get an actual coffee, and not
just some glorified milkshake."

"What can I say?  I don't actually like coffee that much."

Roy shook his head, and I looked at my lap, my cheeks turning red.

He pulled the car back onto the road.  The tire tread bit the cold pavement
like grinding teeth.

"Your windshield is tinted so dark," I said, "I'm not sure you really need
the sunglasses."

"I don't.  They just help me drive less nervous."

We spent a good while quiet after that, listening to the sound of cars
swallowed up in the wind.  I murmured the off-ramp number, though it was
still a few more miles.  He nodded, making some clicking noises.

I inhaled.  Roy was wearing the same `Cool Metal `Axe Deodorant that Duke
liked so much.  Did he idolize Duke or something?

I looked straight into his shades.  "I don't think my relationship with
Duke was like electricity at all.  Maybe lightning struck once.  Or twice.
I'm not convinced he's all that great.  And I'm sick of this odyssey of
setbacks.  Like--I'm trying to find home, but I can't get where I am going,
so I'm just stuck—marching on a pathway that doesn't seem to begin or
end."

"Well...you were just home right now."

"Kind of.  I mean--I love Erica—my best friend.  There's no one like
her.  But it doesn't feel like home anymore; it feels like a vacation.  I
didn't know one semester of school could do that to me.  We just had
Christmas; and I felt like another one of the relatives, swooping in for a
few days, ready to fly away as soon as the pleasantries are over."

"Was it terrible?  Or just a bit hollow?"

"It was just different.  My aunts and uncles warned me I wouldn't get real
presents anymore, and it's not that I mind exactly.  I don't need any more
action figures or trains or whatever other things I grew out of years
before they stopped giving them.  I don't want my childhood back.  I even
gave my shoebox of hot wheels to my cousin Billy, with some of my old
figurines and marbles.  I didn't exactly like high school; I don't need all
these nostalgic reminders--I wasn't some alpha stud like you or Duke.
Outside of my circle, I was forgettable, and now I worry that my group was
holding me back in some ways—keeping me sealed from having outside world
adventures.  I guess I'm just afraid that I' m not set up to do anything on
my own.  I'm just trained to shake my head and think everything isn't good
enough."

"So are you looking for some kind of escape then?"

"I don't know," I said, wrinkling my lips.

"Let me tell you something," Roy said.  "Do you know what sport Duke and I
used to do in high school?"

"Football?"

"Not quite, bro.  I'm gonna let you in on a secret.  Our freshman year of
high school, at the first dance of the year, Duke and I show up all
dolled-up, hoping to get laid. Duke wasn't built back then—but he was
still a hot piece of work.  Thin.  Shapely.  He could have been on magazine
covers, even then.  Anyone that saw him—just got that feeling in their
gut.  At one point, a senior chick stumbled over, and I figured she saw it
too.  She was drunk, but Duke and I didn't even know what drunk looked like
at the time.  We were just two clumsy dorks with rad hair.  She flirted
with Duke, and before the dance ended, they were locking lips in the middle
of the dance floor.  She didn't even really want to be with Duke; she just
wanted to piss off Vin, the quarterback, by dumping him for a freshman."

Roy swallowed, and I nodded at him to go on.

"Vin was still a Junior, so he still had almost two years to screw with
Duke.  He blacklisted him—man--no one would hang with us.  All the jock
guys shunned him.  Girls might go on one date with him once, then fall of
the face of the Earth.  He couldn't gel on any of the sports teams, because
he didn't get along, and the shitheads all talked down on his skills,
calling him a wannabe and poser and douchebag.  By the time Vin graduated,
Duke already had a rep, and there was nothing he could do `bout it.  We
took weight-lifting together and spent a lot of time working out alone.  He
kind of gave up trying to have real girlfriend; some girls would go to him,
expecting a one-night stand with a hung tool, and he just rolled with
it—but I don't think the sex was ever good for him, because he didn't
feel anything.  People just weren't ready or willing to be a good fit for
him.  Finally last year he found a girl that would have sex with him
steady, but by then, he wasn't set up to take anything seriously."

I grunted.  "Why are you telling me this?"

"I'm just sayin'—you aren't the only one who needs to move on from the
past.  Sometimes, people just don't even know when the past is dragging
them down.  They think the myths that got them through the hard times are
real; they can't conceive any difference between the actual world and the
one they build in their minds."

I tried to look into his eyes again, but only saw the shadows there.  What
mindscape had this boy built?  Maybe in time he'd tell me.

I nodded gently.  "I suppose being at college has given me perspective.  I
felt like I knew my borough when I lived here—that it was a little
representation of everything--but in a sense I knew it even better after I
left, because I got a new comparison point.  I'd been in other places
before, but I'd never lived them.  The entire notion of a normal
life—seems so meaningless now.  Normal is just a matter of what shoe-box
you decide to put yourself in.  It's not real."

Roy pouted three times before responding.

"Maybe we don't have to put ourselves in boxes with labels and standards.
We don't have to be products of the big-box culture we are from.  Maybe you
are mad at Duke, because despite it all—despite his Axe deodorant and
gym-ratty brain and show-off charm—he still doesn't take his culture
seriously, and it makes him something of a paradox.  And you can't decide
whether you like it or not.  You want to get to the end of the road—but
what if at the end, you say, `That's it?  That's all there is?'  With Duke,
sometimes you won't know where it is you are going.  You might not be goin'
anywhere.  If it is between Duke's road and a boring, sticky shoebox-- then
maybe it's worth shaking up the box."

"Do you think the path Duke sweeps out can take me away?  Away from that
trapped feeling?"

"Maybe.  Maybe not.  Maybe you can build your own."

"I'm not really a trailblazer, Roy."

"Sometimes, you don't have a choice."

I nodded, looking down, until I saw a landmark I recognized out of the
corner of my eye.

I pointed to the exit and the car groaned as he pulled off the turnpike.

"Up there," I said.  "Pull the car into the grass behind the bathrooms."

He rounded the corner and parked his car about fifty feet from the cliff.
Up ahead, we could see the reflection of the sunset on the water.  It
looked like someone took a lawnmower to a quilt and sprinkled the shredded
fluff haphazardly across the sky.  The ragged clouds blushed pink and
orange.  I had to crane my neck around to see the sun.  The halo of light
and its tendrils hung in the air, twinkling, before sinking behind the
mountains.

"Wanna sit on the hood of the car?" Roy asked.

"Aren't you afraid we'll scuff the bodywork?"

"I can risk it."

"I'll freeze my ass off."

"You can risk it."

We slurped out the rest of our drinks and moved to the hood of the car,
lying back against the windshield.  When Roy saw me shiver, he fetched a
blanket out of the trunk, sidled up next to me, and draped it over us.

"Is this a date?" I asked, suddenly aware of his breath on the back of my
neck.

"I don't know," he said.  "I knew I wanted to see you again.  It can be
totally innocent if you want."

"Okay," I whispered, looking into his eyes.  He'd taken off his sunglasses,
finally; I could see the brown flakes twinkling in them.  My gaze drifted
out over the ocean.

"Still thinking about Duke?" he asked.

"You called it his `show-off charm.'  I just wonder—which parts are of
are real and which parts are for show—and if he even knows."

"And you are hoping that all the things you like are real and all the
things you don't like are fake."

"Maybe.  Is that so naïve?"

"I'm not sure.  It would be.  When he gets dishonest, he wastes everyone's
time, and it seems like that is all there is to him.  But then he has these
moments where he will say something or do something that shows that he
isn't so simple—a glimpse of realness that sort of—validates--not who
he is, but who everyone around him is.  And those moments take on an almost
sacred quality, because it's rare to find anyone that has them."

"Can you give me a `for instance'?"

"Like when Mango Musketoon called him onstage and he was a go-go boy for a
day.  He could have backed down and got a cup of beer thrown at his face,
but he didn't.  He participated.  He let his road take a detour, and that's
when you find places like this one.  And that's when you knew—that he
could be the one that you look out for, at the end of the line, when
everything gets vague and grey.  So you kissed his foot, and looked into
his eyes, and you loved him."

I felt my cheeks flush.  "How do you know all this?"

Roy made a sucking noise on his tongue.  "He tells me things.  I can guess
the rest."

"So if I love Duke—then what's tonight for?"

Roy nibbled on my ear.  "It's a detour."

I moaned softly.  "You hoping to take me for a ride?"

"Fuck yeah."

He started to massage my back from bottom to top, pushing my shirt up as he
went.  When he pulled it off, I didn't stop him.  He rustled his own shirt
off a moment later.  He wasn't suave—it looked like he was trying to
shake a rodent out of his clothes or something—but I was too concerned
with the cold to laugh.

"After all you told me about Duke—I don't know if I can.  If it would
feel right."

"It's all up to you then," Roy said.  "Because it feels right to me.  You
can't fault a guy for tryin'."

My teeth chattered, and I felt Roy wrap himself around me.  His muscles
tightened and the smell of him mingled with the smell of the ocean.  I
could feel that his body was naked now—except the arrowhead necklace
digging into my shoulder.

His tongue swirled into my ear.  "I wanna fuck you."

I didn't respond at first.  His hips gyrated against mine; I could feel his
hardness digging against my ass.

"Please...please let me fuck you."

My mouth hung open; I couldn't find words.

Then, slowly, I nodded.

Roy snarled; then he grabbed my head and pinned it sideways against the
windshield.  His hands roamed down my back, snaking underneath me and
undoing the button of my jeans.  The zipper flared soon after.  Roy pulled
my jeans down to my knees, along with my underwear, in one brutish motion.

"Don't worry; I won't let your ass freeze," Roy breathed.

He gripped one of my ass cheeks, then the other, and played with them for
about a minute.  Then I heard a snapping noise and felt something cool run
down my crack.

Roy had ripped open a packet of lube.  With one hand, he moistened my hole,
carving out a slow circle around the ring before pushing slightly inside.
My mouth hung open; I tasted the frost on the glass.  I heard clicking as
Roy used his free hand to jack his cock, which he had let loose.  I felt
the warmth and firmness bouncing around, then stretching me, as he burrowed
between my ass cheeks and lined his cockhead up with my hole.

He chewed on my ear, grabbing the blanket and draping it over us.  "I'm
gonna fuck you."

My eyes flickered toward him, and I nodded.

His hands came down on the windshield around me as he plunged his cock
inside.

I grunted, arched my back, and tilted my head back; Roy grabbed me by the
hair and pressed my face hard into the glass.

He smacked his lips inches from my ear.  "That feels so good, bro.  Don't
fight it."  He paused for a moment before whispering.  "Don't get too
caught up—in the past—or the future neither.  Sometimes, you just
gotta let yourself enjoy feelin' right now."

I bit down on my lip, closed my eyes, and whimpered.

He moved his hands back down to my ass and stretched the cheeks far apart
in his hands.  He then chewed and sucked on his tongue.  "Your hole is like
velvet.  But tense as hell.  Mmmn, yeah."

He hastened and strengthened his thrusts, growling.

"I know you can take it--deeper.  I saw your ass swallow up Duke's monster.
You can take it balls-deep."

"Roy," I whispered, "Slow down."

Roy pouted, keeping his cock motionless, buried half-way inside me.  He
started to gnaw on my neck, then moved back to my ear, which he seemed
partial toward.  "Please let me fuck you, bro.  You have such a sweet hole.
I just—gotta--pound it."

Something about the way he talked to me softened me up.  I could feel the
muscles in my ass weakening; my hole opened a little and drew more of his
cock inside.

"Mmmn, God that feels good," he groaned.

I tried to control my breathing.  "Ride my ass, Roy.  Go ahead."

"Awe, yeah," he said.  I tilted my head a little in order to see the glint
in his eye and the shadow of his broad smile.  "Yeah bro, I'm gonna ride
you real hard."

He slapped my ass, and then drove deep into my hole.  He pulled out slowly,
then thrust inside again.  Blow by blow, he inflated my ass until his cock
fit deep inside.  It was less traumatic than Duke's style, but still, I
felt reconstructed in a way I never did with Joey.  With Joey, sex was
stagnant.  With Roy or Duke, it was a progression.

I became--boyhole.

And at some level, I liked it.

My eyes gave me away.

When Roy got all the way in, he blew in my ear, waiting in place.  "I'm all
the way inside you bro.  Your body is flushed.  Do you like that?  Being
all vulnerable and—impaled--for the pleasure of Duke's best bro?"

"Roy," I crackled, "Just do it."

But he was a talker, and he loved to lay it out for me.

"You like it," he said, gripping my ass again.  "You like being
manhandled."

His palms rolled up my back till he toyed with my shoulders and neck.  He
reached under and pinched my nipple and I shivered, leaning back and forth.

"You like getting taken to the edge.  You like when a guy takes control.
You like when Duke makes you his fuckhole."

I whimpered, my eyes rolling back slightly.  I didn't want the feelings to
stop, but I didn't want to give everything away either.

"Don't you—fuckhole?"

My breathing was shredded and all over the place like the clouds above me.

I nodded.

"Say it," Roy said, licking my ear.

"I like being his fuckhole," I whispered.  "I like getting lost in the
joyride."

"I bet you do," Roy growled.  "Let's see you get lost in this."

Roy accelerated, humping my hole with an accentuated zeal, like he was
trying to make sure that I felt everything.

I grunted; I teetered back and forth; Roy pinned me harder against the
glass.

The blanket had rolled down us bit by bit till it was at our thighs.  I
could feel the cool wind on my ass.

"Yeah, bro, flex that hole."

I felt my ring clench as he spoke; I couldn't stop it; I pushed my ass into
the air; I understood with a crystal clarity.

It was the focal point.

It was my jewel.

He pulled out completely, swirling his cockhead around the ring.

"Yeah, bro, spread your ass cheeks for me."

I tried to catch my breath, pulling my ass cheeks to the side, making my
hole glint up at Roy.  With my head pinned sideways to the glass, I could
steal a peek at him; I could see him biting his tongue and smacking his
lips as he leered at my stretched hole, prodding it playfully with the head
of his cock.

"Fuck me," I whimpered.

"Yeah?  You want my cock back inside you?  You want to get pounded?"

"C'mon Roy.  You know I want it."

"Now look who is beggin'."

"Roy—please..."

He breathed in my ear, dragging his wet lips across it.

"Yeah, you're a hot hole for me--fuck yeah."

He snarled and plunged his cock back inside.

I whimpered and he covered my mouth for a second.

"Shut up bro, someone could hear you."

I nodded, my eyes growing wide.

I tried to stay quiet, but still, the clapping noise of his body against
mine was clearly audible; it was hard to stay silent as he hurled
shockwaves through my body.

"Yeah, you like this, don't you, bro?"

He lapped at my ear as he bounced in and out of me.

"You should know how fortunate you are."

I nodded against the windshield, closing my eyes, then kissed it with a
smack.

"Did you just kiss my car?"

I blushed but didn't answer.

"You are one—crazy--fuck."

I pushed my ass against him and clamped down.

"Fuckin' shit," he whispered.  "You got me so hot, bro."

"Roy," I said.  "Show me--the horizon."

"You wanna feel the edge of the world?"

I nodded slowly.

"Once you are at the edge—there is no going back."

"I'm ready."

Roy snarled—and I could feel his chest broaden out—he flexed his arm
around my head, pinning my face deep in his armpit.  He had total leverage
on my body.

Then, with a deep thrust, he buried his cock inside me.

"You like that?" he asked.

I moaned into his skin.

His balls ground against me; his abdominals beat against my back.

I struggled, but Roy just flexed harder.  Then, I felt the humidity of his
breath on my ear again.  "Let's get you to the edge, bro."

He released me; I fell against the glass, gasping for air; the last few
shards of sunlight blinded me; I closed my eyes, seeing those little
threads dance against my eyelids, though today they were painted orange and
pink and gold.

"Fuck yeah...FUCK YEAH."

He slammed inside me with numbing power.

Again, again, and again, he voyaged inside; he made me feel it; I felt as
much as I'd ever felt; then oddly, it was too much, and I felt nothing at
all.

A little bubble of spit formed at my lips and popped, but I was too far
gone to even turn red.

The last glimmer of sun sunk behind the mountains; all the world was grey.

"The horizon's ours."

I moaned as the rhythm of the ride hit a fever pitch.

"Give it to me, Roy.  Let me have it."

His cock jumped deep in my hole, stretching from the inside out.

"Okay," he whispered.

He gripped my ass and tread deep within, rolling in and out.  It was like
gears were clicking inside me, an almost mechanical harmony, until it
wasn't mechanical at all.

I just felt—alive.

The thunder of his next few thrusts sent new waves of shock through me; the
weakness in my ass cemented; I tried to shove my ass back to meet his
thrusts, but I couldn't move anymore.

So I just waited—open and defenseless—vulnerable and impaled.

"Fuck yeah, bro—take it."

He reached around and grabbed my balls, making me gape.

My ass jumped reflexively and he hammered me flat against the glass.

"Don't be afraid, Holden.  Cross the edge."

"Roy..."

He bit down on my neck again, jamming his cock inside me with a wild
desperation.

He growled, massaging my balls.  "Do it for me."

"Roy!"

"Cum for me, boyhole."

I whimpered as he tightened his grip.

I closed my eyes; images flashed across my mind.

Mountains; the sun setting behind them; clouds; snow; skis; jumping free
into the air.

I opened my eyes, gasping.

Then, I fired, shot after shot.  Thick cum ran down the windshield, pooling
at the cusp of the car's hood.

Roy murmured in approval, strengthening his thrusts; my shivering ass
milked his cock; soon, our colliding bodies clacked like the cracking
before an avalanche.

Then, Roy collapsed on me, filling me up deep inside.

---

Everything was cloudy, like a dream, and I couldn't make sense of anything
till I was half-way home, with images of handprints and lips smearing on
the windshield.

Through the foggy glass, I couldn't see much—but I could see the series
of streetlamps, getting smaller and smaller in the distance, until they
were just little specks of light.  When I closed my eyes again, I rolled
them over in my mind—making the lamplit path coil and dance against my
eyelids.

In my mind, it went on forever.


---

Feedback always appreciated. :) Messages keep me in the mood to write and
edit and brainstorm. Always grateful for kind words and constructive ideas.

email: krazytop@gmail.com
tumblr: http://krazytop.tumblr.com/

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