Sunday, July 08, 2007

Long Hot Weekend

We walked up Doncaster Road to Shopping Town. We'd caught a train to Box Hill from the city. We'd been out for a nervous, first time, meeting since school. We'd met in Royal Arcade.
He wore jeans, soft on the curves of his legs. Striped t-shirt. Blond hair. Trade mark smile. He looked good, just the same. Athletic. I don't know why I expected him to look different, it had only been a month? It seemed much longer.
"Hi." I sneaked looks at him.
"Hi." He sneaked looks at me.
We ate pasta at a footpath cafe. We drank coke. I smoked. Alex didn't approve of smoking. "It'll kill you, you know," he said.
"You'll kill me," I said. "Leave me out in the open, naked." There he was, so close. Did it show on my face? I don't think I'd stopped smiling since he said hi. It must have shown on my face.
"Only if you lean over and kiss me," said Alex. "On the lips, now." He just said it like that, out loud. He made me laugh with that kind of stuff. I looked around to see if anyone was in ear shot. Alex always was brave.
"You know you want to," said Alex. "Or, would you prefer this lovely garlic bread?" He smiled and made a flourish with his hand, as he passed the basket to me, with the phallic garlic roll half-wrap in a white serviette.
He rubbed my shin with his foot.
"I'd rather your basket," I said, bravely, just like that. I resisted the urge to look around to see if anyone was within hearing distance. Christian the brave.
Alex blushed, smothering a laugh by looking down at his garlic bread.

It was a hot day, the sun shone down brightly, washing out the colours of Doncaster. It was a beige suburb, in its most flattering light. The blue sky was an unblemished, sapphire tile.
It had been an expedition. We’d walked from Shopping Town.
"Your parents are still home," I said, when I saw Alex's dad's Mercedes in the drive way. Alex's parents were supposed to be down at their beach house.
"Don't worry, it's early yet, they’ll go," He lived in what looked like an ex-display home, but didn’t all houses in Doncaster look like that?
"Oh, hi Chris," said Mrs Roberts, at the front door. There was a lot of red in the Robert's house. Red velvet. Red and gold patterns.
"Christian," said Alex, as he pushed passed his mother. There was a suit case in the entrance.
"It's nice to see you, Christian," said Mrs Roberts.
"We're going to watch TV in my bedroom," said Alex.
"You don't have to spend all your time in your room, you and Christian," said Mrs Roberts.
Alex turned, big smile, floppy fringe in his eyes. "The footy's on, mum. Besides, aren't you going?"
Mrs Roberts dropped her expectant look. "Yes, yes, soon." Alex turned and headed up the hall. "When your father, finally gets ready." His arse looked hot, in those jeans, as he walked away. I looked at the mother and she was looking at me, looking at her son's arse.
"Essendon against Hawthorn," I said.
"Christian, come on," said Alex.
Mrs Roberts dropped the suspicious look and smiled.
"Well, it's nice to see you, Christian."
Alex's room had red, geometrical wallpaper, an en suite and a double bed. He had a television on a side board, facing the pillows.
Alex picked up the remote, the television made a clunk as it came on. It was the kick off. We got comfortable on his bed.

"We're going, honey," called Alex's mum from the front door, sometime later. "See you Sunday night."
"Bye mum," said Alex.
"Good bye, son," said Mr Roberts.
"Good bye, Christian."

Alex got off the bed. "Get under the doona," said Alex, stacking the pillows at the bed head. "Take your shoes off." He dropped his volume. "Take off your jeans."
"Your mum and dad gone?"
"Till tomorrow."
"Your sister?"
"She won’t come in," said Alex. "Fear of death." He smiled. "Until she hears us moving around, in the morning, hears the shower, then be careful, she could."

I held Alex in my arms and between my legs, under the doona, as Essendon kicked Hawthorn's arse. He smelt sweet. He always smelt sweet.
I loved lying with him in my arms. I loved to just hear him breath. I loved feeling him expand and constrict, with every breath.
His hair caressed my neck. He's ticklish. He'd squirmed as my fingers found his ribs.
“Don’t do that.” he’d giggle.
Our socked feet rubbed together. Alex snored on my chest, as the day light faded. I rubbed his hair with my nose. His skin tasted salty, where I kissed him, gently.
His jocks were made of soft cotton, his pubes poked through the material, in spikes. He was warm. His legs felt hairy on mine.
The light faded away, with my hand around his cock. I kissed him and he kissed me back, before we pulled each other’s jocks off and fucked each other. I came up Alex’s arse as he lay on his back and squirted wads of cum into the air. I finger painted with his cum over his chest as my cock shrank still up his arse.

We slept all night, the TV was still speaking, as I opened my eyes. We showered, together. The inner labyrinth, locked en suit door. We took turns sucking each other off under the water. I loved Alex's hard cock in my mouth. Our spoof stuck to the hairs on our legs before the running water washed it off.
Alex got out first. I soaped again.

Alex's younger sister, Mandy – Alexander and Amanda – lay on his bed, as he stood naked in front of her and dried his nuts, with a fluffy white towel. His cock flopped up and down. No locks on bedroom doors. Alex was never shy.
"Did you two sleep together?" asked Mandy.
"Down there," said Alex, pointing to the mattress made up on the floor. “Christian slept down there.”
"That doesn't look slept in," said Mandy, as I came through the en suit door, as we all looked down at the untouched bed. We'd forgotten to mess it up.
Mandy looked at Alex and then at me, both in fluffy white towels. There was silence. Alex looked at me. I looked at Mandy.
"Oh," said Mandy, as she got up and left the room.

I don't think she had ever thought of her older brother as a faggot, up until that point.
"Mandy!" Alex pulled on a pair of jeans, commando style, he couldn't have looked sexier, as he ran after her.
I walked to Doncaster Road, in the sunshine, with a smile on my face. I didn't care. I smoked a cigarette. It felt like I had all the time in the world. Bliss. I floated along.
I popped a mint at my front door. Mum was baking, Bumble Bees.
"Did you have a nice sleep over, at your boy friend's house?" asked mum.
"Yeah, he's my best boyfriend, mum."
She smiled, clueless. "Do you want some lunch?"

2 comments:

Volacious said...

Top writing... I enjoyed that :-)

Keep the story coming!

FletcherBeaver said...

Thanks