He has to twist in his seat and readjust his legs. His penis has somehow slipped out of the leg hole of his underwear. Jimmy's cock has grown too hard for the position it's in. Sven gives Jimmy a curious look, then withdraws his hand. Sven's attention is only making it worse. He fidgets uncomfortably, but he can't get anything straightened out. He has had exactly one blow job in his eighteen years. Roger has said that homos give the best head. Roger has told Jimmy that in jail even the toughest guys let other guys suck their dicks. He imagines how humiliating it would be if Roger were to turn around right now and see the lust in his eyes as he lets the man sitting next to him stroke his cock. Feeling as if he is on a deliciously dirty roller coaster ride, he allows himself a noisy sigh that no one else can hear. As the car lurches around a bend, Sven presses into Jimmy and Jimmy scans the others again, who all seem lost in their own thoughts. He glances up to the windshield and sees the driver's eyes holding steady on the twisting back road. With a stab of terror, Jimmy remembers the rearview mirror. Jimmy wishes he could open his legs even wider so Sven could place his hand on the shaft of his cock, but the back seat is too cramped. Sven begins to explore, and Jimmy's breathing gets shallower. Relaxing his thighs, he offers himself up to whatever will come next.
It's a deliciously dirty feeling and he realizes that the wind noise has created a comfortable cocoon in which he can hide. But then he begins to enjoy the pressure of having something captured between his locked thighs. Make sure no one else in the car is watching. Squeezing his thighs together, Jimmy traps the hand between his legs. Sven's fingers play along Jimmy's fly, the inseam of his jeans. Roger has his whole head out the window, his face turned into the wind. Jimmy feels Sven's hand roam between his legs. Tilting his head, Jimmy looks toward the other person in the back seat, a young man with thin hair and a delicate mustache. He knows the wind noise makes it impossible for anyone else to have heard, but he doesn't want Sven to say that out loud again. Sven shouts into Jimmy's ear: "I want to check you out." Roger looked at Jimmy expectantly and no one said anything for a beat. Jimmy asked this with such earnestness Roger laughed. "Why can't we find girls to suck our dicks?" he asked. He felt the butterflies in his stomach, even as his dick swelled in his pants. When Roger returned, announced his plan, Jimmy was coy. Sven scrutinized Jimmy and Jimmy knew right then which way things were headed. After striking up a conversation, Roger pointed to Jimmy from across the wide corridor. Roger left Jimmy standing alone and raced off to greet these men. Jimmy had an idea how the afternoon might play itself out back in the mall. With the curls dancing on his head, Jimmy thinks Roger has the face of an angel. He brushes the hair back from his forehead, closes his eyes, and rests his head on the seat.
209 public gay sex stories driver#
The driver points to his ear and shakes his head. Although Roger is shouting, Jimmy can't make out a thing he says. Roger waves his slender hands in the air as he talks to the man driving. The other boys in Roger's crowd-an elite group of toughs-wouldn't even give Jimmy the time of day. Both boys are eighteen, but Roger is clearly dominant. Had Roger not dropped out of high school, he would have been in Carnal's senior class with Jimmy. The wind whips his soft brown hair about his head. With a gentle squeeze, Sven removes his hand from Jimmy's thigh. A quiver passes through his bony shoulders, down his strong sinewy arms.
Jimmy keeps his eyes on the rolling fields passing by. Sven isn't moving his hand, but he isn't removing it either.
209 public gay sex stories skin#
Olive skin in sharp contrast to the ribbed white tank top stretched over his lean frame. Jimmy can feel his dick swelling unbidden in his jeans. With his hand still on Jimmy's thigh, Sven bends his head toward the ear of the man on his other side-the only way to be heard above the din of wind noise that fills the car. His blonde hair is cut short, like a Marine, and he speaks with a clipped accent that Jimmy can't place. He twists his lean frame, trying to protect his middle. Jimmy's body goes tense, but he tries his best to act natural. The man sitting next to Jimmy slips his hand onto Jimmy's thigh. Roger Bones sits up front, in the passenger seat. Jimmy Manley shares the cramped backseat of a Volkswagen with two men that he does not know.