“Good evening officer. What seems to be the problem?”
“That would depend.” He looked at Adam. He was clean shaven with blue, piercing eyes staring directly at Adam. Fuck, this man was a looker!
The officer leant forward. “License and registration, please.”
Adam smiled nervously as he handed over his papers. The officer studied it.
“Hm. Adam Young.” Did the name mean something? Why was he staring so deliberately at Adam? “You’re from out of town?”
“New York, to be precise.”
“Ah. The Big Apple.”
He hadn’t heard anybody referring to New York like that in decades.
“Yeah. The Big Apple.” With so many worms in it.
Silence. Then the officer spoke into his two-way radio.
“This is Sherriff Johnson. Please check the following registration?” He rumbled off the details.
Adam panicked. Why would the sheriff enquire about his license plate?
Adam glanced into his rear-view mirror. The red lights of the patrol car were still flashing. And in the background, he could make out the boy walking across the street. He stopped, as if he was waiting for the officer to arrest Adam. Then he disappeared into the darkness. Adam glanced at Sheriff Johnson again, awaiting response from whoever he was communicating with.
He heard a crackling voice after a few moments. “Right ‘o Johnny. Have a great evening.”
Sheriff Johnson handed Adam’s papers back to him.
“Everything seems to be in order.”
Thank god.
“So. What are you doing in our neck of the woods?”
Adam heaved a sigh of relief. “Well, actually I am moving here.”
“Moving here?”
“Yeah.”
“We don’t often get out-of-towners who want to stay.”
Adam didn’t know how to respond to this.
“What exactly are you looking for, sir?” asked the sheriff.
It suddenly felt very sexy—the way he stressed the sir bit.
“I’m looking for The Old Mystery building.
Sheriff Johnson placed his hands on his hips, his waist cocked to the front, mere inches from Adam’s face. But those loose-fitting pants revealed nothing of what was hidden inside.
“Oh. Okay. It’s easy. I know it well.” He tapped on Adam’s windscreen. “Follow me, sir.”
Sheriff Johnson walked back to his car. It was a lazy stroll—the walk of a man who was completely at ease with himself; who was aware of his good-looks and the authority he had in this town. And, dare Adam admit it? Even under those loose-fitting trousers, it looked as if he had a pretty cute ass.
The sheriff opened the patrol car’s door and put his hat on. He pulled out in front of Adam.
Sheriff Johnson drove slowly. Was it Adam’s imagination? Or did he frequently check him out in the rear-view mirror? Probably wishful thinking. But one thing was for sure—the sheriff was doing him a huge favor. Also, he was pretty sociable.
After four blocks and a sharp left, they stopped. Adam saw a three storey brick building in front of him. The school had emailed him the relevant information regarding his lodgings. This looked nothing like he’d envisioned. The sheriff gestured through his open window toward the building, almost as if he was asking ‘Are you sure this is it, buddy?’
Adam only knew that his apartment was supposed to be on the second floor.
He switched off his car and got out. To his surprise, the sheriff also got out.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yup. I’ll take it from here, thanks.”
There was movement on the second floor as a woman peered through a window. “Your neighbor doesn’t look too friendly, buddy.”
Adam shrugged. “I’m not really here to be social.”
“Oh. You’re some kind of recluse?”
“I sometimes feel like a lone wolf. But no, I am beginning a half day position at the school as a counselor.”
“Aha.” Again, that deep, macho voice.
Silence.
Then he noticed the wedding ring on the sheriff’s left hand.
Okay. Cute and straight.
Adam took his bags from the trunk and slammed it shut, but the sheriff didn’t move. Shit. What now? Perhaps he thought that Adam was a serial killer or something.
Still no movement. Then Sheriff Johnson slowly took off his hat and brushed his hair back. He was still looking at Adam.
“We must go for a beer some time.”
Fuck me over!
“Thank you, Sheriff. That would be nice,” was all he could think of.
Somebody moved on the lower floor of the building, probably a janitor.
“The name is Todd.”
“Great. Thanks, Todd.” It felt strange to call him by his first name.
“The pleasure is all mine, Adam.”
He remembered his name.
Todd rearranged his trousers, turned around and walked back to his patrol car and opened the door.
“Good night Adam.”
“Good night, Todd.”
The sheriff sped off, waving once.
Adam waited for his car to turn the corner. Then he walked up the steps to the second floor. There was no sign of his nosy neighbor. The janitor walked up to him.
“You Adam Young?”
“Yeah.”
“Your keys, bud. We expected you a bit earlier.” He handed over the keys. “The landlord will be here tomorrow at eight. He’s probably asleep by now.”
“Thanks.”
Just as Adam was about to open the door, he noticed the boy again walking past the building, but he didn’t even look at Adam, he simply disappeared into the shadows.
Adam opened the door and switched on the lights. It was an open plan apartment. It was comfortably furnished with a rustic look, but had a sophisticated, friendly feel.
He walked through the lounge towards the bathroom. God, he needed to take a piss. He lifted the toilet seat to empty his bladder.
He was tired, almost too exhausted to take a shower. But he was too sweaty. He had to clean himself up.
He walked to the bedroom. Clean sheets on a double bed. He couldn’t have asked for anything more. At least the apartment looked much better from the inside than the street.
Now to clean himself up.
He took off his clothes and glanced at himself in the mirror. He looked a mess, his black hair messy and sweaty; his torso strong and well-defined. As he stripped off his pants, he noticed that the hair on his lower body was growing back. He had to do some manscaping again. But for what? Who was going to even notice him in this conservative town?
He touched his cock as he showered, remembering the hitchhiker’s warm mouth around his flesh. He felt his cock swelling as he recalled his intense orgasm.
It took a while for his erection to subside.
No funny business now. He was too tired, even to pleasure himself. Shawn had surely awakened something inside him.
This was the first time he completely relaxed; the warm water caressed his stiff shoulders. He soaped his body, occasionally touching his cock again. It jumped to attention, but Adam just stood motionless, feeling the warm water sluicing over his skin. It felt as if he was cleansing himself of his past. But that would take more than a hot shower.
He dried himself off and put on his boxers—those silky ones with New York printed on the back. Peter had given those to him.
For a few seconds, he thought of his ex-boyfriend again—momentarily missing him. But then he remembered the past disappearing down the drain. Peter belonged in the past.
He left the shower and walked back to his new bedroom.
Adam opened one of his bags and took out a beer. He gulped it down. Then he noticed a balcony.
With the remaining beer in his hand, he walked toward it, sliding the doors open.
The air was crisp and clean, and it was quiet—no humming traffic like in New York City.
> He saw a chair and sat down.
Fuck, he was exhausted.
So, what now? This was the beginning of the rest of his life! But what life? Especially one without Peter.
He had to smile. How he hated clichés. Yet he now found himself right in the middle of one. He sighed. Finally, he was in his new home.
A sound.
He noticed the flickering lights of a patrol car in the street. He got up and leant over the balcony.
The car slowly drove past.
He could swear that Sheriff Johnson was looking up at him. Then he disappeared into the night.
Chapter three
As usual Adam woke up before his alarm even made that dreaded monotonous sound. He wished his phone had a different alarm buzz—something chirpier and more energetic; a friendlier one that would make him feel more welcome.
Today Adam decided to hit the snooze button and stay in bed until his alarm went off for a second time. This was the best time for him, when he could enjoy a few precious free minutes before the day kicked in.
Then he heard another sound—the mating call of male turtle doves. Now that brought back some memories . . .
Since childhood Adam has had a passion for birds. He collected at least four bird books a year, sometimes even five, not to forget the ones his church-mad aunts gave him on his birthday.
He remembered that grey and white turtle doves looked the same. It was hard to distinguish between the genders.
Adam wished that his life was as simple as the doves he so liked. They didn’t discriminate, and best of all—they mated for life.
Then he remembered Shawn again. He seemed to be getting obsessed with him. Just thinking of him prompted his boner into action again, as he remembered those tight jeans with the bulge that could hardly be contained.
Fuck! That white stain on Shawn’s jeans will haunt him forever. It had been even sexier than those soft groans of imminent explosion he’d heard in the men’s room that night.
So here he was in bed, reimagining his scene with the hitchhiker in the car, against his better judgment. But that was all he had now.
He slipped his hands into his boxers and his cock immediately responded to his touch. Yeah. His best friend was indeed ready for some action; ready to take him to the edge of his own private pleasure zone.
His boxers were getting in the way, so he slipped them off, releasing his cock completely. The sensation of the material sliding over his ass was suddenly intensely erotic, almost like a pair of hands caressing his skin. He stared at his six-pack that was now dewy with anticipation.
He gently squeezed his balls with his left hand. God, how he loved this feeling. At least that was one thing Peter could do and didn’t shy away from—licking his balls ever so gently.
Adam got closer to an orgasm as he kept on jerking off, ready to explode.
He gently tugged at the hair on his balls as he became aware of the familiar hot sensation trickling up his legs. Then he slipped his finger into his ass and gave a loud groan. The nerve endings responded immediately, itching and tingling as if to warn him that the orgasm would soon reach the point of no return. But he still had some time to go.
“Fuck! Fuck!” he tried not to shout, but he couldn’t control himself.
And then it happened. He had no control over it. Shawn’s tight jeans faded from his mind, replacing it with Sheriff Todd’s sexy ass and the masculine way he had strolled back to his car, the material stroking his ass.
Oh my god . . .
Adam’s movements speeded up and built intensity as he started imagining cupping his hands around the sheriff’s ass, slipping his fingers into his crack like he was doing to himself now. Every nerve end was now standing up as he made his way toward the sheriff’s zipper, his fingers nervously fighting with the material. And under the zipper he could feel the sheriff’s cock pulsating with passion.
Faster and faster. Shawn, Todd, Shawn, Todd . . .
Then he imagined the sheriff’s ass against his mouth.
Fuck. Fuck!
Moments later he felt the intense tingling sensation of his sperm itching for release. One wrong stroke and his explosion would be ruined. It was all about the timing.
Todd.
Shawn.
Shawn.
Todd.
Todd grabbed hold of his hands and helped him to stroke it properly. There was Shawn’s wonderfully hot mouth again, his tongue touching just the right nerve endings.
“Todd. Oh fuck, To-o-o-o-dd!” he screamed as he came.
It was the perfect orgasm. His penis spasmed so intensely that it actually hurt him. But it was a pleasant, vigorous pain as he allowed the shudders of delight and red hot waves shaking through his body to pleasure him completely as he arched his head upwards to look at himself squirting.
The first squirt hit his six-pack with a tremendous force and trickled down his thigh. The next one was even more intense and hit him on his forehead, followed by an equally powerful one that hit the wall behind him. He moaned loudly, loosing himself in pleasure and fantasy; the orgasm subsided slowly, as if reluctant to let him go.
Adam just lay there for a few moments, trying to recover. He looked down his body, now relaxed after the tremendous orgasm, and closed his eyes.
Todd. Shawn. Todd. . . Todd. All he could think of now was—Todd.
He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. His cock wasn’t deflating, as it usually did, after jerking off. And then, he knew. He wasn’t finished yet. Not by a long shot.
This would be a first—coming for a second time within minutes. But then, that was the effect the sheriff had on him. Adam started jerking off again.
This time it took a little longer, allowing more time for his fantasy to take control—but now it was only Sheriff Todd in his fantasy. The sheriff getting into his car; smiling at him; his tight ass was now igniting a second orgasm.
Adam experienced a second blast that nearly made him lose consciousness. This time the load landed on his chin.
Enough already!
He completely collapsed—totally spent.
Then silence. He would usually jump into a shower. But not this time. He wanted to hold onto the warmth on his skin for as long as possible. There was a feeling of total and complete satisfaction. He took the moment in.
His cell phone brought him back to reality, almost as if warning him that his body couldn’t take any more. Adam didn’t answer—he didn’t have the strength. He simply lay there, staring at himself.
He couldn’t remember ever feeling anything like this before, not even his first experience as a 14-year-old boy. When he’s seen his buddy jerking off and he’d tried to imitate him. The intensity he’d felt, when his cum had shot past anything his buddy Matt could’ve done, was still fresh in his mind. He remembered how Matt’s mouth had fallen open. Now he understood his friend’s response—‘Fucking awesome, man. Where do you keep it all?’
He slowly became aware of his mom’s cross around his neck and immediately felt guilty. His mother had given him the cross for his protection, and now it reminded him of sin.
Oh fuck Adam, get a life!
He quickly left his bed, grabbed a towel and started drying himself odd, his body trembling due to exhaustion. His cock was extremely sensitive and tender from his morning fantasy session. He picked up his boxers and tossed them into the laundry bin, then took a shower.
The moment he took his mother’s cross off, he heard a sound outside his window. “Caw! Caw!”
The doves were quiet, almost as if retreating from this new threat. Adam looked out of his bedroom window and saw the dreaded crow again sitting next to the window pane, staring at Adam as if he knew what Adam had just done.
Talk about his conscience! It was as if his mother was looking at him.
He shook his head as if to rid himself of these useless thoughts and got ready for the day ahead.
As eventful as the morning had been, Adam had even more trouble finding the school
. He wished he had Todd showing him the way, but no such luck.
When he finally found the school building, it looked much bigger than he had anticipated from its website. It was quite a big building surrounded by shady pines with a few cars parked in their shadow; the name Bozeman High was prominent—almost intimidating.
He took a deep breath and took his first steps toward, what he hoped would be, a new life.
Adam walked briskly to the school principal’s office, remembering the times when he’d been sent to the same place for minor offences. The memories came flooding back now. Strange, what one remembers at a times like these!
A friendly woman—probably the secretary, looked up as he walked into the waiting area.
“Oh, hi! You must be Adam. I am Loraine. Welcome.”
“I’m Adam, yes. Hi, Loraine.”
“Hi,” she smiled, “glad to meet you. I am Mr. Black’s personal assistant.”
“Good to meet you.” He immediately felt welcome.
“Please take as seat,” Loraine said. As he sat down, she handed him some forms.
“Fill these for me, would you?”
Adam completed all the required forms without any hiccups. A few moments later the Principal Black walked in and held out his hand.
“Good morning Adam. A pleasure to meet you.”
“Hello, Mr. Black.”
“So, you’re finally here. Welcome!”
Adam smiled. “Thanks, sir.”
Battlefields: Everyone has battles Page 3