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  • A Summer of Firsts Ch. 02

A Summer of Firsts Ch. 02

12

Nick continues to deal with his newly acknowledged feelings and desires. There is MFM sex in this chapter but I have chosen to leave it in the Gay Male category.

It continues Chap 1 of "Summer of Firsts Re-Imagined".

Thanks, as always, to LarryInSeattle for his editing assistance.

If I managed to insert a post-edit error please let me know. I don't bother to re-post the correction but I do correct my final copy.

Oh, and while I appreciate having any errors pointed out, a single exclamation point will suffice to make your point. Peace.

Enjoy.

============

Loretta fell to her knees and working her head between Nick and her husband, she took Jack's cock into her mouth. She held it there as it grew soft in her mouth. Nick's eyes fell from Jack's and he stared at the side of Loretta's face. He extended his hand and tentatively, slowly began to brush the young woman's hair, posed to jerk his hand away if she objected.

Loretta turned and smiled at him. Her smile melted his uncertainty and when she leaned forward, Nick kissed her. One of Jack's hands joined his, stroking his wife's hair. Jack's other rested along the side of Nick's head, his fingers rubbing the back of Nick's head and neck. Nick loved the feel of Jack's hand on his head; he loved the taste of the man's cock and cum. He discovered he loved it even more when lifted off the tongue of the beautiful woman who had been his first real crush in that time before men began to occupy more of his thoughts than women. He realized he'd rather be kissing Jack and felt guilty.

Loretta had been nice to him, nicer than he imagined most women would be if they discovered he'd been sucking off their husband. Nick tried to process that idea, that a woman could be okay sharing her husband, not just sharing him but sharing him with another man. That shit never came up in Bible school.

Nick's body stiffened and he kissed Loretta harder when a hand touched his cock. He wasn't sure if it was hers or Jack's. He leaned back, breaking the kiss, and Loretta smiled at him. It was her hand.

"Nicky," she tilted her head and looked at him. "Nope, you're not 'Nicky' any more are you? Nick, you have a gorgeous cock. Did you know that?" She turned her head to look up at her husband. "Does he have a gorgeous cock, baby?"

Jack smiled at his wife as he winked at Nick. "Yup, babe. Nick's got a first-rate cock alright. Now if you'd move, I owe little bro here a blow-job."

Loretta pulled her face into a faux pout as she turned from her husband to gaze at Nick.

"Nick, Shelly tells me you've been dating the Niemeyer girl."

Nick nodded, not seeing the point of telling Loretta or Jack that he and Lori had already decided to call it quits, deciding they'd never be more than friends.

"I know it's not polite but, uh, have you two fucked?"

She was right it wasn't polite. Nick was disappointed in her. Lori was a friend, a good friend and would always be a good friend. Nick didn't mean to stare but he did. Loretta dropped her gaze as he stood. She put her arms around his shoulders.

"Don't be mad at me. I'm not trying to be a bitch. I should have known you'd never talk about that. I'm sorry." She stepped back and kissed him on the cheek. "The two of you have got me tied up in knots. I'm so horny I could screw Principal Harris." She shuddered and made a gagging sound. "No, I'm not. Gross." She put a hand on Nick's cheek and turned his face towards her. "I think it would be nice to make love to you. That's all I'm trying to say."

"What the hell, Retta? He's my boyfriend."

Nick jerked his head around at that. Boyfriend?

Jack smiled at him and rubbed the side of his face with one hand. Without thinking, Nick pressed his cheek against the callused but warm hand.

Nick felt like he was standing on the edge of high cliff, unbidden, an illustration from his Bible of Jesus being tempted by Satan sprang into his head and he stiffened. Boyfriend? Is that what he wanted to be? Some guy's boyfriend? He pulled his head away and his eyes grew wide. He looked at Jack, at Loretta. They were no longer smiling. They did not look evil. They looked worried, concerned.

Nick couldn't breathe. He felt sick to his stomach. His ears roared. Husband and wife stepped toward each other. Loretta reached out for him and Nick stood and stepped away. He could see their mouths moving but heard nothing. He saw only worry in their faces. But Satan was the great deceiver wasn't he? How did Nick expect him to look? Pitchfork and cloven hooves?

He stuffed one leg then the other in his jeans and fastened them. The rest of his clothes he gathered in his arms, holding them against his belly. He ran though the kitchen and out the door, Jack and Loretta following, mouths still working but unheard. They did not try to touch or hold him. He stopped long enough to vomit. He continued to retch as he fumbled his keys out of his pocket. He dropped into the seat of his Pinto, unmindful of the scorching vinyl against his bare back.

Jack and Loretta, still naked, stared. Loretta looked like she was crying. Jack simply looked worried. Nick started the car, pulled the stick shift into reverse and stepped on the gas. The roaring in his ears grew louder. As his vision began to spiral down to a single point of light he could see Jack yelling something.

The world winked out.

God he hated it when his mom hovered and fussed. He wanted to scream. "Just leave me the fuck alone." But he could never say that to his mother.

"Is he alright? Jesus look at the blood."

"He's fine. I think. He's got a nice gash where his chin hit the wheel. That's the only thing I see bleeding. Come on help me get him on the ground."

Nick wasn't sure why his dad was here. His dad died a long time ago. He barely remembered him. Strong hands, rough skin hands, but gentle hands gripped his shoulders. He heard, more than he felt, his back squeak along the sticky vinyl of the car seat. He stood, more or less, and much softer, much warmer hands went around his waist.

"Come on Nicky. Lay down. Here's your shirt. Put your head on that."

Nick did as he was told. The grass felt scratchy against his bare back. The sun was in his eyes. He put one arm over them. He heard a car start. His car? He started to raise up to look but the warm hand pushed down on his chest. "Uh-uh, lie still."

The car engine shut off. It continued to try to keep running for a minute. Yeah, that had to be his Pinto.

"Come on little bro. Stand up. Let's get you inside. Last thing I need is for someone to drive by while we're out here bare assed with a bloody man on the ground. We'll have half the county deputies here in an hour. Come on."

Nick stood, as two sets of hands tugged on his arms. His stomach rolled. A strong arm went around his shoulders. Nick felt his feet start to move. He felt as if he was watching the action more than initiating it.

"I'll get his clothes." The woman said. Nick realized that wasn't his mom's voice.

"Naw, come inside first and put on some clothes babe." And that voice couldn't be his father's.

Memory hit him, a sucker punch to the gut. He tried to jerk away. Tried to turn back to his car.

"Knock it the fuck off Nick!" Jack snapped. Other than the day he got into the face of the guy with the cheap suit, Nick had never heard irritation or anger in the man's voice.

"You need to lay down for a spell little brother. You fell out on us man. Out cold. You whacked your chin and you've got blood all over your chest. You can't go home like that. You can't go anywhere until you lay your ass down and have some water. Then, and only then, you can get up, clean up and then if you feel the need to go, go. You don't need to run like the devil's on your tail. No one is going to force you to stay.

Nick jerked his head up to look at the man. "Devil," he whispered in a shaky voice. "You the devil?"

Jack stared at him for a moment as Loretta joined them. "Oh Nick, you fucked up mess you." Jack shook his head. "Yeah, Nick, that's me the devil. And this," he jerked his head at Loretta. "This is the queen of Sheba, my consort, Mrs. Mephistopheles. Jesus, man."

Jack shook his head as Loretta looked at the two of them, not sure what was going on. Her husband urged Nick toward the house.

"Come on. If I'm the devil would I offer you a glass of ice-water you fucking dope? Come on before His Satanic Majesty gets his naked ass arrested for public indecency."

Jack helped Nick back to the couch. The couch where just a few minutes ago, Nick had sucked Jack off for the second time that day. Nick tried not to think about that. After he was settled, Jack disappeared down the hall. Loretta appeared and took his place, a plastic glass of water in one hand.

"I don't think ice-water would be a good idea yet." She handed the glass to Nick. He took a sip and waited to hear back from his stomach. Hearing no complains, he risked a larger drink.

"We do have ice though," Loretta said with a smile. Her eyes dropped to Nick's chin and then his chest and the smile slipped from her face. "Holy crap Nick. You look like you were in a knife fight."

"Bullshit," Jack snapped as he returned to the living room. "As the only one in this room to have ever been in a knife fight, I call bullshit. What he looks like is a little kid who was running in the house, fell and hit his chin on the coffee table."

Nick glared at the man. Jack, gazed back mildly, as he sat a basin of water on the coffee table. Nick dipped a washcloth into the basin and then squeezed it out.

"Hold still Britt."

"Britt?" Loretta asked, confused, looking from Nick to Jack.

Nick glared at Jack who began to smile, knowing Nick got the joke.

"Britt's the guy in the Magnificent Seven who throws a knife and doesn't use a gun. James Coburn," Nick explained, still pissed. Loretta shrugged, still confused. Men are so bizarre she'd given up on understanding them. She does understand, these two need to settle whatever it is that's going on.

"I'm going out back to lay out. The sun's low enough I shouldn't burn."

Jack grunted. Nick said nothing. He hissed as the washcloth touched the cut on his chin.

"I'm not a little kid."

"No? Then quit acting like one. What the fuck was that all about?"

"About? It was about this, about sin. I've turned myself into an abomination."

"Give me a fucking break."

"'If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; they shall surely be put to death; their blood is upon them', Leviticus 20:13," Nick whispers softly.

Jack's voice was softer now. "Little bro, you really believe that?"

"Ye..." Nicks voice choked up and he settled for a nod.

Jack's sigh was full of sympathy. "I'm afraid I can't help with that one, little brother. Once upon a few years ago, I beat myself up over it too. You'll have to work through it on your own. I will say this much, I think that's a bunch of bullshit. You want to wring your hands and hate yourself over some stone-age shit written by a bunch of fuckers who took forty years to cross a hundred miles of desert, be my guest. But if you're going to kill yourself over it don't do it in front of my house."

Nick stared at the man, baffled.

"You almost backed out in front of a semi doing about 80 mile an hour you dumb fuck. Didn't you realize that? What the fuck you think we were screaming at you for? If you hadn't fainted and run off into the culvert, they'd be scraping the parts of you that could be found off the black top. And I'd be trying to help Retta forget what she had seen."

Jack was pissed again, Nick could see that. "Don't ever fucking scare my wife like that again you little shit. I don't give a fuck what you did for her in school or how much I like your stupid, fucked up ass. I will clean your ever-loving-mother-fucking plow. I'll fuck you up so bad your old man will cry."

"Can't. He's dead." If Nick thought that would buy him so sympathy he was badly mistaken.

"I know that, you fucktard. That's how fucking bad I'll mess you up. Even the fucking dead will cry. Get it? Mother fucker."

There was no question Jack was pissed. But the fact that he'd continued to wash the blood of Nick's chin and was now sponging the blood of his chest, sent a somewhat mixed message.

"You don't think what we did was wrong?" Nick's voice was low. Jack heard the undercurrent of fear and loathing. He reminded himself Nick was in many ways still a kid. His anger fell away. He struggled to answer Nick, his own memories threatening to overwhelm him.

"No, I don't." Jack wrung the washcloth out and resumed washing Nick's chest, working his way down to his belly. He tried not to stare at the first couple of dark hairs sprouting around the nipples. "No," he continued, distracting himself from Nick's body. "Wrong is burning little girls up with jellied gasoline. Wrong is dumping so much shit into the Cuyahoga River that it fucking catches on fire, on fire! Wrong is cutting a man's balls off and stuffing them in his mouth before you lynch him for having black skin. Wrong is piling enough H-bombs up to kill us all a dozen times over. That's wrong. Loving each other, enjoying each other, how is that wrong?"

"It's not natural." Nick whispered.

"It's not? Really?" Jack shook his head. He'd wiped off all the blood but somehow his hand continued to drag the washcloth over Nick's belly. "So you, what? Found a book and read about men sucking men? Someone told you? I got it." Jack's voice dripped acid sarcasm. "You're mom taught you? No? Did you teach you? No one taught me. It's just there, inside, part of you. No one can teach you to love another man you dumb fuck. No one can teach you to love, period. Of course it's natural."

The kid looked so miserable, so lost that Jack couldn't help himself. He dropped the washcloth on the floor, put his arms around Nick, ignoring his wet chest, and kissed him. At first he didn't respond. Jack was ready to let go, not just of the kid's body but of trying to help him, when Nick's arms went around him. They kissed for a while. When Nick pulled away and buried his face against the man's chest, Jack let him. He ignored Nick's tears and shuddering body, as he knew Nick both expected and wanted him to.

Neither of them had noticed there had been no slam of the kitchen door. Neither of them noticed Loretta peeking around the doorway. She had tears on her cheeks but she was smiling.

She tiptoed to the kitchen door and opened it loudly.

"It's perfect out here you guys. Come and join me. I have a whole blanket we can share." She slammed the door and walked into the backyard, dashing the tears from her eyes with the back of her hands.

-----

Jack stroked the side of the Nick's face. The kid's eyes were red but other than that, he looked alright. The cut on his chin had stopped bleeding. It was swelling though. Jack imagined the kid would have a pretty decent bruise.

"You need a Band-Aid, little bro." He spoke softly, a half smile on his lips. "You never got that blow job. Want it now?" Nick shook his head. "Want to go?" Another shake. "Excellent. I'm glad."

Jack rose from where he'd been kneeling. "Sit up, slowly. Finish the water while I get a Band-Aid."

When Nick sat up, the room tilted one way, then the other, in gradually decreasing arcs, like a quarter rocking to rest atop a bar. He finished the water in one long gulp. His stomach seemed fine. He looked at himself. There were a couple of faint smears of rust on his chest. There were several darker drops and smears on the legs of his pants. He found he didn't care.

Jack returned, still naked. Nick's eyes followed the man's swaying cock as he came down the hall. He wasn't surprised to feel a stir in his pants. He was tired of pretending this was happening, that he wasn't happy that it was happening. Evil or not, unnatural or not, he thought he might have had his last freak out.

"Head back."

Nick obliged. Jack's steady fingers applied two butterfly band aides to the cut.

"More water?"

"I can get it." Nick rose, touched the arm of the couch for a second for balance, and then straightened his back.

"You okay?"

Nick nodded, knowing the man meant more by the question than, "you got your balance".

He nodded again. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks."

Jack's face broke into a smile. "No prob, little bro, no prob at all. Come on let's join Retta before the corn demons kidnap her." The man swung around the doorway with one hand, whooping for his wife and barged through the kitchen door. Nick watched, an amused look on his face. He shook his head, shrugged his shoulders, and picked up his glass. He filled it at the sink and walked outside.

He stepped off the stoop, not bothering with the stairs, and walked around the corner of the house. The backyard was surprisingly small. It was surrounded on three sides by corn. It was early enough in the year the corn was barely knee high. There were no houses visible. Nick heard no tractors groaning in the distance. It was very quiet and very private.

"Anybody want water? Beer?" He called, surprised that his voice sounded normal to his ears.

"No, I'm good," Loretta called. Jack didn't reply. His mouth covered one of Loretta's nipples. She laughed. "I think he's good too. Come on. Join us."

What she meant by "join us" was unclear to Nick. From what he'd gleaned so far, that phrase encompassed everything from "sit on the blanket with us" to "let's run away to an island and fuck for the rest of our lives" and everything in between.

Feeling bold, he sat the plastic cup down in the grass and pushed his jeans off his hips without bothering to unbutton them. Loretta smiled at him and he felt his dick notice her look. He glanced at Jack. The man was still teasing his wife's nipple with his mouth but his eyes were on Nick's growing cock.

Jack lifted his head from his wife's breast and rolled over on his back. "I think we need to take a breather. There's been too much drama for my blood. Nick, lay down beside us but just relax. I understand there's a whirlwind of shit going on inside your head but no more freaking out. Cool it for a while. Enjoy the sun. Then we'll see."

Nick shrugged. "Okay, but I want to make love to Loretta."

Loretta giggled.

"What the fuck, man? Are you a schizo or something? One minute you're running for your life, the next you tell me you want to fuck my wife. Wow, that's some pretty heavy shit you laying on me."

Nick shrugged which turned Loretta's giggling into outright laughter.

Nick sat on the edge of the blanket. Jack was amused, but not surprised, when the kid paused to brush the grass off his feet before bringing them onto the blanket. Nick rolled onto his right side, his left leg and arm draped across the still snorting Loretta. She pulled her arm up and cupped the kid's head when he buried his face into the side of her neck.

On her opposite side, her husband snuggled in beside her. He was a little lower, his head on her breast. His leg met Nick's, his arm lay against the soft skin of Loretta's midriff, his fingers brushing Nick's hip. Nick's hand found the man's hair and his fingers combed through the tangles, brushing the top of Loretta's breast and collar bone.

Nick kissed the side of her neck and tried to relax, tried to sleep but to little avail. He, or his mind, relaxed, a little. At least he stop yelling at himself. The voice that delighted in telling him he was sick and disgusting was quiet. Nick wondered if, just maybe, the voice was dead. He wondered, then concentrated and the feel of Jack's fingers on his hip and the feel and smell of Loretta's hair on his face.

His guilt over earlier wishing he was kissing Jack and not Loretta stirred, but he shoved that voice in the same sound-proof cage as the you-are-a-sick-disgusting-queer voice. As he nuzzled Loretta's neck, his dick stiffened against her side. His dick had been hard, off and on, most of the day. He'd been close to blowing his wad a half dozen times. The only time he'd been able to forget the ache in his balls was when he was picturing Satan or unconscious. He decided that even if sent him straight to hell, he had to cum. And soon.

12
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