Gloryhole With My Friend 05

Everyone in this story is 18+ and fully consenting.

Chapter 5: Medicine

A text from Charlie lit up the screen. Just a simple, “Thanks for chatting. Nice hanging with you ;)”

I stared at it for a minute. Does he mean hanging out tonight? Or was he referring to the thing of which we tacitly agreed never to speak? I actually chuckled, as much as the pang in my stomach remained. 

I woke up to the buzzing of my phone on my nightstand and the pit still sitting in my stomach. Charlie’s text from last night was at the top of the screen. Nice hanging with you ;) I stared at it until the screen went dark again, then I stared at my ceiling. I told myself it was just a light comment, and I was overthinking it. But why did he use a little winky face? That was so unlike him.

I got dressed and walked to the kitchen. The house was quiet. I poured cereal, then forgot to eat it. I scrolled, then stared into space, then scrolled again. The reels blurred and I couldn't even remember what I was looking at. The bowl of cereal got soggy. I rinsed it out and texted Rugger: You up?

He replied in seconds: Yup

I grabbed my bike and coasted down the street. Summer air, early sun, a few dog walkers, the world moving on and being normal, unlike my life which was as fucked up as it could get. Rugger was on the swings when I rolled up to the park. He had iced coffees sweating on the seat next to him.

“Morning, zombie,” he said, handing me one. “You look like shit.”

I chuckled, then took a long sip. “It’s fine,” I lied.

“The fuck it is,” he said, chuckling.

I laughed in spite of myself. I told him about talking and hanging with Charlie, then that text he sent, about the way Charlie had been oddly normal and even kind, like he was trying to make it easy for me. I told him about the voice in my head that kept switching between panic and whatever the opposite of panic is. Maybe relief. Maybe curiosity.

Rugger kicked off and rocked his swing a little. “It's crazy, but you can get through it.”

“What do I do though?” I asked.

“I don't know… boundaries?” he said. “of some sort. I have no idea what that would look like though.”

“You think I should text him?”

“I'd wait,” he said. “He seems fine. Don't push anything.”

We sat in silence for a bit then just chatted about nothing. He told me a dumb story/joke about a bird stealing his croissant on the way there, and that's what happened to it, even though it was obvious he ate it. We avoided returning to the Charlie topic. The coffee disappeared. The park filled with more people. I felt like I could breathe again after a bit.

By lunch I felt steady enough to go home, leaving Rugger after a brief hug.

Inside, Mom was at the table with a stack of mail. She asked me to skim the pool again, sweep the patio, normal summer chores. I was grateful for the list. Tasks are easier than thoughts. I changed into shorts and went outside. The pool was glassy, a few leaves floating near the deep end. The sun bounced off the water hard and bright. For a minute I watched the ripples and tried to match my breathing to them. In, out. In, out. Nothing mystical happened, but my shoulders dropped a little.

I was halfway through skimming when the slider door opened and Charlie stepped out with two bottles of sparkling water. He tossed one to me like this was any other day. I caught it and tried to keep my face neutral.

“Hot already,” he said.

“Yup.”

We worked side by side for a while, sweeping and hauling the trash bag to the bins. It felt almost normal. He kept it normal on purpose, I could tell. No jokes that cut too close. No sideways glances that asked questions he didn’t plan to answer. After a bit he pointed at the hot tub cover.

“You want me to drain and refill it this afternoon?” he asked. “Water looks cloudy.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Let’s do it now.”

We pulled the cover off and let the pump do its thing. The emptying water rushed through the hose and out to the side yard, making a muddy trickle in the grass. We sprayed the shell clean, wiped it down, refilled it. The mindless sequence calmed me. When the jets kicked on in the hot tub for a test cycle, the water bloomed with bubbles. We both watched, quiet for a beat.

“Thanks for helping,” I said.

“Always,” he answered, and I heard the same word Rugger had used last night. It landed on me. Charlie was actually cool. He was helpful and cared about me, even after what happened. He didn't seem bothered at all, and that actually made it easier to deal with. It was still in my head, but it was starting to seem like not such a big thing.

I wanted to ask about the text, but I didn’t. I decided I was definitely overthinking it. Charlie went inside to grab towels to set out for later. I stood there listening to the steady thrum of jets and the backyard sounds I usually never really paid attention to, the distant mower, the semi-loud birds. I checked my phone out of habit. No new messages. I exhaled. Maybe things are fine.

—[]—

Over the next couple weeks after the baseball night and that late text, I actually did feel like things were fine, but subtly I started to realize that they were almost a little too fine. Charlie and I didn't talk about it again, and we didn't really hang out much, but little changes started stacking up. He acted differently around the house. The first time it hit me was when he walked past my door completely naked after a shower. We had never done that before. It wasn't how we acted in the house, even if it was just us. I caught it in the corner of my eye and my head jerked toward the doorway. I wasn't sure if I had imagined it, so I ran to my door and looked down the hall. Sure enough, his pert little ass was hanging out as he walked butt naked into his room. I narrowed my eyes, as shocked by the nudity as the fuzz on his ass, compared to my still hairless ass, even though I'm older than him.

The next time mom and dad were gone, I had Rugger over and we were watching baseball, when Charlie came out in just his boxer briefs and on the couch. I looked at him, confused, but didn't say anything. Rugger looked at me and chuckled. Charlie rarely ever did that even with company. When our parents were gone, he was sort of acting like he forgot other people were there at all. Casual nudity and staying in his underwear continued and became more frequent. Is he teasing me?

At night he started to slip into my dreams. They were usually erotic, even if I didn't want to admit that to myself, but they were sort of obscure. Just his naked body, usually from behind, or a feeling like something was in my throat, but it belonged there, and his voice grunting above me. Upon awakening I would realize that I was giving him oral, but in the dream it was just a cloudy, loosely sexual haze. One time, it was just him squatting over my face, like he was reaching past me for something that was behind me, but I was lying down and his body just happened to be that close to me. When I blew him at that gloryhole, I only experienced his dick, and nothing else. But the dreams never really had his dick, just the rest of him, the experience of it all. When I woke up I pictured him beating off over my face and tapping his dick on my lips, just like the aggressive guys do in porn to the submissive sluts. I realized that I had a problem.

I started waking up from the recurring dreams wired every time, and with a huge boner, heat pooling in my abdomen. I would lie there until the room settled, told myself it was only a dream, then felt it edging back the second I closed my eyes again.

I tried to outpace the craziness building in me with long runs and cold showers. It was Summer, so there was no school to take my mind off things. I even thought about getting a summer job. I cleaned my room, reorganized drawers, anything to keep my hands busy. It still found me.

One morning I was tired of telling my brain to sit still. I told Rugger everything that I was able to put into words. He listened without judging.

That same afternoon I passed Charlie's room and the door was half open. He had headphones on and didn’t see me, or at least pretended like he didn't. I peaked a little further, and realized he was beating off, dick and balls bouncing freely under the blur of his hand while he tuned everything out, porn blaring in his headphones. It was the first time I had seen the thing hard since the events at the mall. It was exactly like I remembered, just from a different angle. I felt a surge of a sort of strained pull in my body, like an electric string that connected every organ was being pulled out of my belly button.

I stopped short at the doorframe and my brain finally caught up. I watched for a minute, and he started to get into it, nearing the end. His hips thrust a little bit up and down mechanically as he stroked his length from base to tip, never slowing down.

I watched until he ejaculated onto his abs, and milked out the last drop, before reaching for a towel on the ground. I ran away to the living room downstairs before he noticed I was there, but honestly I wasn't even sure if he cared. He was in a completely different state the last couple weeks.

I texted Rugger: You down to hang?

He replied quickly: Anything to get out of the house right now. Too much family over.

We met at the park and I told him about it, and about how I was starting to obsess over cock since the incident, and how Charlie was starting to drive me crazy.

I looked up at him, watching his toned jawline and looking for a reaction from him. "I think I need to suck a dick again, to get it out of my system... what do you think?"

He smirked. "Then suck mine again. It was awesome."

I smiled for a second then let it fall. "Ok, yeah, if you're down."

Rugger looked around, "In the bushes over there?"

"Yes."

I ran over and got on my knees, eager to get this done. Rugger approached casually so as not to draw suspicion, then walked up to me and thrust his hips forward a bit.  I eased his shorts down while he kept watch, eyes cutting toward the path and the street like a security camera. His thick piece of meat jiggled between his muscular legs as he shifted to be better hidden. I looked from his cock to his eyes. He nodded once, a quick go signal. The bushes hid us well enough, but my pulse still thudded in my ears. I could smell cut grass and sunscreen, and somewhere a sprinkler ticked.

He was already hardening before I touched it. I grabbed his heavy shaft and stroked slowly at first, letting it sink in that I was finally touching a dick again.

I stroked faster when he squeezed my shoulder. He whispered, “We won’t have long,” and I nodded. I leaned forward and put his juicy hog in my mouth. His thickness was like nothing else. It hardened against the roof of my mouth and his body tensed every time I pushed him into the back of my throat. I made him fully hard and started stroking him with a tight grip matching the bobbing of my head. 

Suddenly he was in a hurry, and pulled my head down onto him and held it there. I let him go rough on me because we had to finish quickly. I held tight and kept my focus on breathing between thrusts. When he pushed into my throat, I didn’t fight it. I adjusted and matched his pressure, leaning into it, letting him set the pace while I anchored him with both hands on his ass. I suppressed gags and tugged on his balls and did everything I could to be the best fleshlight possible.

I didn’t even touch myself. It wasn't the point of this. I gripped his taut ass and pulled him in with every push forward of his hips, guiding his body until the movement was smooth. He murmured my name once, barely audible. I stayed on task, jaw relaxed, eyes half closed. For the first time in weeks, my thoughts finally quieted. I wasn’t replaying anything. I wasn’t thinking of shame or the mall or Charlie. It was just this. Heat, pressure, breathing, man smell.

His thighs tensed and his hand tightened in my hair. I kept the rhythm steady through the last few seconds, stayed with him until he shivered and released inside my throat. His thickness pulsed and stretched my lips just slightly past their maximum, making the corners of my mouth burn, but I kind of liked it. It was confirmation that I was doing a good job. I swallowed out of reflex, then breathed, wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and looked up. His chest rose and fell. 

He whispered, “You’re weirdly good at that,” a little stunned.

"I've been thinking about it nonstop all summer," I said with a scraggly voice, then cleared my throat.

We straightened up, checked the path again, and walked out inconspicuously. It was everything I had needed. The static in my head dialed down. I felt normal for the first time in days. I went home lighter. For a while I didn’t think about anything, and Charlie’s weird energy didn’t get to me at all. It was like a meditative state. I jerked off in bed that night happily, then went for a second round. Life was good again.