Chapter Twelve #2
Harper shrugged. “Nothing. He was like a cold fish, just standing there with his thin, cold lips. Dry. Stale. Basic. I thought I’d see fireworks, all I saw was his eyes squeezed shut. I kind of stood there, waiting for it to end, not knowing what to do and his Speedos pressed up against my hand.”
“Come on, Harp. You’re making this shit up!”
“I couldn’t! I wouldn’t! I kind of turned my palm out, to hold it.
He was hard. Like, really hard, popping out of his Speedos hard.
It all happened so fast, the kiss, the bad kiss, and then suddenly his package in my hand.
His bathing suit kind of slid down, and his cock slid right in.
to my hand. He was rubbing it against me, rubbing me, grunting, panting, licking my cheek and then . .. then...”
“Don’t tell me, Harp. He came?”
“Blasted. Everywhere! All over my hand, the lockers, it was like the guy had never come before. Ever. Not even with himself. I don’t know where he even stored all that cum in his body, there was so. Fucking. Much of it!”
“Gross, dude.”
“Actually, that part was kind of sexy. To know that I’d made him do that, my hand, my kiss, that he’d literally lost control of his bodily functions due to little old me? I ... that part was hot at least.”
Banks was pure chuckling, shaking his head in disbelief. “Okay, I can get that part. But my question is, what happened next?”
“Next? There was no next. He apologized, profusely, yanked up his Speedos and promptly hit the road.”
“Waddya mean, hit the road?”
“Left, Banks. Vamoosed. Scrammed. Exited the building, posthaste.”
Banks was indignant. “With his jizz all over your hand?”
Harper chuckled. “And everywhere else in the room, sure. Pretty sure it was dripping from the ceiling by that point.”
“But what about you, Harp? Surely that excited you?”
“Oh, I waited for him to come to his senses, no pun intended. Return and finish what he started, but after a few minutes I realized that wasn’t gonna happen.”
“So what’d you do?”
Harper smirked, blushing at the thought. “Borrowed one of his dirty magazines and finished myself off in one of the shower stalls, that’s what I did.”
Banks nodded, as if impressed. “Sexy,” he teased.
Harper nodded as if back in that stall, the smell of chlorine and sweat suffusing his pleasantly flared nostrils. “I mean, I already had his lube in my hand, right? Why not put it to good use after all?”
Banks grinned. “And ... later?”
“No later.”
“What, no later?”
“He never came back.”
“Ever?”
Harper sighed. “Never ever, actually.”
“The hell, bro? So what’d you do?”
“I mean, we have a policy about lockers left unattended, so after two weeks I raided that shit, hid all his Blue Balls magazines under my mattress and spent the rest of the summer jerking off to them every chance I got.”
“So mature,” Banks teased, though Harper could tell from his wide eyes and flushed cheeks he was as excited by the prospect as Harper had been at the time. “But ... your V-card?”
“Still intact, my man.”
“But you said...”
“Listen, the truth? I’ve kissed one guy, well, now two, counting you. Jerked one guy off, been jerked off by another guy and that, my friend, is the sum total of my sexual experience thus far.”
Banks nodded, wriggling in his seat as if suddenly impatient. Harper couldn’t blame him. It was a sad story, after all. He himself couldn’t wait to finish it, let alone rewrite it. Once and for all.
“Funny,” Banks finally mused, nudging Harper with one very firm, very warm knee.
“What is?”
“How much we have in common?”
“Why? You’ve kissed and jerked off a guy before, too?”
“I mean, just now.”
Harper was as skeptical as he was curious. He was far from an expert, but no way Banks had never not done that to someone before. With his hands, anyway. It had felt too good, too sensual, too expert and erotic to be his first.
“Never before?” he asked suspiciously.
Banks was suddenly mysterious, standing abruptly and, dashingly, offering his hand. Harper took it and felt the strength there as Banks lifted him almost single handedly from the bench where they’d been sitting while Harper poured his heart out, one sad, sordid detail at a time.
They stood, nearly eye to eye in the romantic light cast from the streetlamp high above. “I’ve done a little more than you, Harp.”
“A little? Define a little, Banks.” Harper was, yet again, overwhelmingly jealous.
Banks winked and tugged his hand so that they turned, facing the trio of dorm buildings looming in the distance. “Maybe later, Harp. I think ... think we’ve had enough excitement for one night, don’t you?”
Harper tugged him back, remembering why they’d sat on the bench to talk in the first place. “But you, Banks? What about your ... blue balls?”
Banks squeezed his hand, grinning abashedly. “Didn’t I tell you, Harper? I got so excited jerking you off in the back of that movie theater, I came before you did.”
“Bull! Shit!”
Banks chuckled, a heavy, joyful sound, as if relieved to admit he was actually human, after all. “You wanna reach down the front of my sticky boxer briefs and feel for yourself, Harp?”
“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” Harper teased back, glancing over. As if on cue, Banks lifted up his clingy grey Piedmont Panthers t-shirt to reveal the big, wet, sticky stain all over the front of his khaki cargo pants. “Holy shit, Banks! You weren’t kidding.”
“I couldn’t help myself, Harper. That? Back there?” Banks jerked a thick thumb over his broad shoulders, grinning merrily. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever done, bar none.”
“Even with some hot chick back in school?”
Banks was as adamant as he was radiant, flared nostrils, wide eyes and thick lips aglow by the light of the lamp high above them. “Ever. Done. Harper. Period. Full stop. You? You are the hottest person I’ve ever touched in my entire life, so ... don’t let that go to your head, though.”
Harper chuckled. “I might, if I believed it.”
Banks squeezed his hand, tugging him along, the air growing quiet and still around them as they walked, slower and slower, toward the night’s end in the form of the fork in the road that led to each of their respective dorms.
“Bit of advice, Harp?” Banks offered as they walked leisurely, inevitably forward.
“Yeah Banks?”
Banks clutched his hand, dragging him along in the deep, quiet night. “Stay out of locker rooms for a while, huh? You don’t seem to have very much luck there, anyway.”