Charles Dover grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and used the fabric to wipe the sweat off his face. Letting the T-shirt fall back against his belly, he grunted and wiped his filthy hands on the seat of his jeans. So now his T-shirt had huge damp sweaty patches on it and grubby brown stains from his fingers. Likely the seat of his pants would be decorated with dirty marks as well.
He shook his head, flicking his damp, sweaty blond hair off his forehead, and looked around the small storage unit, now piled high with his furniture and possessions. The last thing he needed to do was return the trailer he’d hired to the storage unit company and park his car in the space he’d carefully left for it in the center of the storage unit. He could lock the unit, drive the trailer around and return it, then drive back, unlock the unit, park his car in it, and lock the unit again. Or he could leave the unit open and hope no one entered it while he was gone.
“Not in this neighborhood I can’t. Fuck it. ”
Charles unhitched the trailer from his car and then reversed his car into the gap he’d made for it. It’d been a damn tight squeeze to fit everything into this unit, but he refused to pay twice as much money for a larger one when all he’d had to do was pack this one carefully from the concrete floor to the low wooden ceiling.
He grabbed his backpack from the passenger seat, holding it over the roof of the car as he squeezed out of the storage unit and then dropping the backpack into the trailer. He locked the unit and then picked up the tow bar of the trailer, grunting as he leveled it and got it moving, pushing it back down the concrete pathway to where he needed to return it. Actually, once it started to roll, it wasn’t all that hard to push and steer. Besides, he was already coated in sweat and dirt. A little more didn’t really matter. But damn he needed a shower.
Ten minutes later the paperwork was all done and his possessions were safe and paid for. Well, they were for the next three months anyway. Hopefully by then his life would no longer be buried in shit. Charles rubbed his face on his T-shirt again, groaning at the sweaty mess all down his front. He had clean clothing in his backpack, but there was no sense in putting a fresh shirt on his sweaty body. Besides, all he owned for the next three months, unless he came back here to unpack some stuff, was inside his backpack. He couldn’t afford to change his clothing every time he felt like it anymore.
Charles left the heavy backpack on the ground by his feet and pulled his cell phone out of his jeans pocket. It was time to call a taxi to take him to the airport. But what was he going to do at the airport? Where was he going to travel to?
Suddenly Charles felt completely exhausted. He sat down on the top step outside the storage company’s offices and let the sunshine soak into his aching muscles. It wasn’t even nine o’clock yet and his body ached as much as if he’d worked for an entire day in the yard. Not that he had a yard anymore either.
Fuck! His life was a huge pile of steaming shit right now. But did he really need to run away? His employer had terminated him, his apartment’s owner had cancelled his lease, and a few powerful people were baying for his blood. Surely they’d all be satisfied as long as he kept a really low profile for a few months? He’d thought maybe he’d go down to Florida and be a beach bum for a couple months. Hell knows he needed a rest. A place to stay with no pressure, no hate, no antagonism. Somewhere he could relax. Likely he’d pick up some work down there as a barman or something.
Fuck it! This is my home. I don’t want to go to Florida! All I need is a fucking shower, some clean clothes, and a place where I can relax. The gay bath house would be fine.
Then Charles shuddered. The last time he’d been to the bath house he hadn’t even had a chance to go for a swim before a group of men were yelling at him and abusing him for his actions.
I should have spoken more politely. I should have moderated my words and been more conciliatory. But I refuse to change my mind. Posting a video of a naked five-year-old on YouTube was sheer stupidity and the parents who did it deserved to be told their actions were begging for a pedophile to come looking for their kid. I did the right thing and I’d do again even if I knew in advance the trouble it’d bring me.
Charles stared at his cell phone. The airport or the bath house? Safety, or a shower and a rest?
Charles watched as he pulled out a couple of boxes of condoms.
“Textured? Colored? Glow in the dark?”
“Nothing boring like normal condoms, huh? Let me turn off the lights here and in the bathroom, and we’ll go with glow in the dark.
The small light by the entry door seemed to stay on all the time, but once the other lights were switched off the dim light reminded him of when he was hiding in the garden and Abe rescued him. Now Abe was holding out condoms on his fingers, waggling them as they glowed yellow and green in the pale light.
Charles laughed. “I’m pretty sure wearing them on your fingers isn’t going to protect anything.”
“Why don’t you bring me something else I can put one on then?”
“What? You want my fingers as well?”
Charles couldn’t remember the last time he’d joked and laughed with someone. Certainly not at work. The dickhead would have been horrified at unprofessional behavior like laughter in the office. But by some unknown magic, Abe had released happiness inside himself that hadn’t been allowed out to play for a long time. He’d used the word magic before. That described the changes in his life in a few brief hours. Abe-led magic.
He lay down on the bed and Abe rolled a condom down over his erection, and then he put one on Abe. They lay side by side playing with each other’s dicks so the latex caught the faint light in the room and glowed and reflected off each other. His dick was as hard as a spike, and Abe’s was as well. It was time to get moving. He riffled in the nightstand drawer and pulled out a jar of lube, turning it around until the faint light hit the label. “Oh, warming lube. You’ll like this.”
Abe rolled onto his belly and then crouched on all fours. “Let’s get started then. I want you to fuck me, Charles.”
He pressed a kiss to the back of Abe’s neck. “I want you, too.”
He twisted the cap off the jar of lube and scooped some out, dropping a dollop on Abe’s rosette before going back for more. Charles pressed his thumb in Abe’s entry, pushing the first blob of warming lube inside. It’d already be starting the work of preparing Abe as he worked on the muscle ring of his entry. Charles used a lot of lube, rubbing it in thickly, wanting Abe to feel the full effect of the heat spreading from the outside to the inside of his ass.
Abe was groaning, and muttering, rocking on his hands and knees and pushing his ass up into Charles’s hands, or trying to. Charles slapped Abe’s ass. “Just wait a minute here. I’ve hardly been inside you at all.”
“Feels so good.”
“Yes, I know. It feels mighty fine from here, too, but don’t rush me. I want our first time to be special.”
Hell, he wanted every time to be special, but he could hardly say that when they hadn’t even fucked once yet.
Charles tried to be thorough, but it was damn hard. His own dick was bouncing and waving around, desperate to get inside Abe’s cute ass. And Abe was wiggling and muttering, pushing back on his fingers so much it took all of Charles’s efforts and time to make sure Abe’s channel was properly stretched. Finally neither of them could wait any longer and Charles slathered lube over his condom, muting its glow, and then pushed it at Abe’s entry. He had to press firmly and then he was in. Charles did his very best to be gentle but all he wanted to do was slam inside and fuck Abe hard. He managed to pause when he was fully seated inside Abe and take a big breath.
That didn’t help. His lungs were filled with the erotic scent of the warming lube, of Abe, of their sweat, and even of the hair dye he’d used, which reminded him of Abe so gently stroking and petting his scalp.
Abe was wiggling his ass again, grinding his butt against Charles’s balls until Charles’s eyes almost rolled up in his head. He gripped Abe’s hips tightly and pulled out, counted to three and thrust back in again. The second time he was determined to count to three again but Abe didn’t give him the opportunity, driving his ass back onto Charles’s dick before he’d even caught his breath.
The plan was instantly derailed. They pumped and slammed and jack-hammered into each other like furies, each of them as forceful as the other, until Abe gasped, “Now” and Charles turned his cock, hunting for Abe’s prostate.