by Neil Plakcy
Mike was saying, “Yes,” and “Yeah,” and “I do,” and Toby agreed. He didn’t know what this was, but with his husband in their bed beside him, this boy in their bed between them, Toby thought another round might be fun.
THE ROAD TRIP
Kitten Boheme
stop!” I swatted Finn’s hand away from my face.
“What?” Finn looked at me innocently.
“I’m trying to drive! Do you want us to get there alive?”
Finn groaned and sunk down deep into his seat. “At this point I don’t care!”
I took my eyes off the road long enough to shoot a glare in his direction. “This road trip was your idea.”
“I’m bored.”
“What are you? Three?”
“Are we there yet?”
I raised an eyebrow and looked over at him. He grinned back at me.
A few months ago Finn announced that for our five-year anniversary of being a couple we should get out of our little upstate New York apartment and see more of the world. Great, I thought, we can finally use our frequent flyer miles and book a vacation to Hawaii. But no, he thought we should see America the old-fashioned way—by car.
I reached over and smacked him on the knee. “Behave yourself.”
He grabbed my hand and threaded his fingers through mine; lifting it to his mouth he planted a kiss on the back of my hand. “I love you.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
I wanted to be mad at him; we had spent the last sixteen hours in the car and had had a terrible night’s sleep in some sketchy roadside motel. I was edging on my last nerve, but then he looked at me with those baby blues of his and instantly all was forgiven—the bad coffee, the drive-through meals and every roadside tourist trap he made us stop at between New York and Minnesota.
“All right, I may just love you too.” I confessed.
“I know,” he chirped, giving my hand a quick squeeze.
We sat in silence for some time, enjoying the chatter of NPR and the constant hum of the road beneath us.
“Oh my god!” Finn yelled, his face pressed against the passenger window, his breath fogging the glass.
I slammed on the brakes and the car just behind had to swerve around us, the driver laying on his horn and gesturing rudely as he drove by.
“What? What’s wrong?” I panicked.
“We should eat there!” He pointed excitedly to a roadside café.
“Seriously? That’s what you nearly got us killed for?” My heart had leapt up into my throat; I tried to swallow it back down.
Finn just looked back at me, unaware or uncaring of what just happened. He shrugged, “I’m hungry.”
“You are always hungry.” I rubbed his slightly less than sixpack gut. He returned my mock affection with a punch to the arm. I laughed. “Fine, let’s stop.” I relented, flipping on my turn signal and pulling in to the café.
I parked our Chevy station wagon, bought especially for this trip. “See the USA in your Chevrolet” was Finn’s mantra. Being the pushover I am, I relented and traded in my Audi for this 1980s monstrosity.
As I unbuckled my seat belt I leaned over. “You owe me. Big.” I puckered my lips and waited.
Finn closed the gap between us and pressed his mouth to mine.
I melted into his kiss, the moistness of his lips, the heat of his breath and the familiar feel of his tongue sliding against mine. Five years and he still can make me weak at the knees with just a kiss. We clung eagerly to each other and a hand slid up the nape of my neck, fingers curling in my hair. I shuddered. I put my hand against his face, the fleshy pad of my thumb caressing his cheekbone. When the kiss broke Finn left a trail of soft kisses from the corner of my mouth to my ear. He breathed deep and heavy in my ear, a chill ran down my body and I could feel something beginning to stir in my pants. He whispered, “I want a bacon cheeseburger.”
I pushed him away from me, stifling a laugh. “Get away from me.”
“Come on, let’s go eat.” Finn reached over and pulled the keys from the ignition. “I’m buying.”
“Damn right you are.” I reached for the door handle.
“Wait!” Finn held up a hand, motioning for me to stop. He jumped out of the car, hustled over to the driver’s side and opened the door for me. It was a silly thing he did, ever since our first date. He thought it was romantic and I humored him, although the tradition has grown on me.
“Thank you, babe.” I took his outstretched hand and lifted myself out of the seat with a groan. It felt good to finally stretch my legs. Finn linked his arm through mine and started pulling me toward the entrance and grudgingly I followed.
The café was little more than a greasy spoon attached to a defunct gas station. I’m sure it had seen better days, but judging from the crumbling, fading exterior, those days were long past.
“Hello darlins!” We were greeted by a perky young waitress in a blue dress and apron. “Just have yourselves a seat anywhere; I’ll be right with you!”
“Just any old where?” Finn mocked in an equally enthusiastic high-pitched squeal.
“Uh-huh!” the waitress said, nodding.
I gave Finn a quick jab in the ribs with my elbow, stifling a snicker.
We picked out a booth in the far corner of the room and sat down. The waitress, whose name tag read TANYA, tossed a couple of menus in front of us. “Would you like to hear our specials?”
“Nope.” Finn shook his head; he already had his heart set on a bacon cheeseburger and would not be swayed.
“Let’s hear them,” I coaxed.
“We have a Reuben sandwich with chips for $4.99. The soup of the day is baked potato and the pie is…umm.” Scrunching up her face she looked up at the ceiling. She was silent for a moment, lost in deep thought. “Hey, Merle!” she yelled, making both Finn and me jump in our seats. “What’s the pie special today?”
A large, greasy man, who I could only presume to be Merle, leaned out of the order window. “Chocolate cream,” he shouted back to Tanya.
“What?” she screamed back at him.
“Chocolate cream!” Merle bellowed to the waitress.
“Oh yeah!” She turned her attention back to Finn and me, both of us now sitting sheepishly in our booth. “The pie special today is chocolate cream pie.” She smiled innocently.
“I’m just going to have a bacon cheeseburger with fries and a large cherry coke,” Finn said, handing her back the unopened menu.
“Sure thing, honey. For you, sir?” She turned to me.
I panicked; I hadn’t had a chance to even crack open the sticky plastic-coated menu. I quickly opened it and darted through it, while Tanya tapped her pen impatiently against her order book.
“Do you need another minute?”
“No!” I quickly pointed to the first thing I saw. “I’ll have that.” I leaned in close to read what I was pointing at. “I’ll have the ladies’ waistline-watching salad.”
“Mmm-kay.” Tanya wrote down my order, her pencil scratching judgmentally across the paper. She turned on her heels and skipped back to the order window, depositing the slip with Merle.
I looked up across the table at Finn; he was staring back at me with an eyebrow cocked. “What?” I mouthed.
“Watching your waistline are you?”
“Shut up, you know what happens when I panic.” I sighed heavily. “And I was really looking forward to some onion rings too.”
Finn instantly shot his hand up in the air and waved it around for Tanya’s attention.
“Yes, sugar?”
“Can we get a side of onion rings too?” he called back.
“Sure thing!”
“There, better?” He brushed a hand over my face and through my hair.
I nodded.
Our food arrived. Finn finished his meal in record time and began sneaking food from my plate when he thought I wasn’t looking. “Would you like the rest?” I asked. I was still surprisingly full from our last roadside meal anyway.<
br />
He looked longingly at what was left of my onion rings. “Naw, you go ahead and finish.”
“I need to watch my waistline anyway.” I pointed to my salad then grabbed at my stomach, pinching a little extra flab between my fingers.
“You look amazing,” he cooed as he reached for a fistful of onion rings.
Like a carrion bird swooping in on fresh road kill, Tanya was suddenly hovering over our empty plates. “Can I get ya’ll anything else? Pie? Coffee?
“Pie. A la mode,” Finn mumbled through his last mouthful of food. I grimaced as bits of onion ring fell out of his mouth and looked up apologetically at our waitress. She just smiled back; a true hardened veteran of the truck stop service world, she had seen it all.
“And for you, hun?”
“Just coffee and the bill.”
“Have that for you in two shakes of a lamb’s tail!” She flounced away.
I leaned across the table and motioned Finn to come in closer. “I need to use the little boy’s room.”
Finn sat back, snorting and rolling those baby blues at me. Having been born in rural backwater Mississippi he lacked the sense of refinement I imagined I had. “Are you asking my permission, buttercup?” he mocked.
“Maybe I am,” I countered, clasping my hands together pleadingly. “Please, sir, I really have to go,” I begged, imagining myself akin to poor Oliver, begging for another bowlful of gruel.
“Go.”
“Oh thank you, sir!” I grabbed his hand and kissed it worshipfully. “Thank you!”
“You are so weird. Go pee!” Finn shooed me away from our table, snickering.
I pulled myself up out of the booth and wandered to the end of the diner, where an old backlit sign hung on the wall: RE T OOMS. I followed the sign down a dimly lit hallway and found the men’s room. It was surprisingly clean; I had half expected raw sewage, leaky pipes, and messages calling for help scrawled across the walls in blood. There were two stalls in the room; I pushed open the door to one of the stalls and sat down, letting out a long sigh of relief after a minute or two.
“That good, huh?”
The voice startled me out of my momentary state of bliss. I looked around and caught a blue eye staring back at me through a silver-dollar-sized hole.
“Holy shit, Finn!” I jumped, my heart leaping into my throat for a second time that day.
“What do you think this is for?” He wiggled a finger at me through the hole in the bathroom stall wall.
“What the hell are you doing in here?”
“What? Do I need your permission to take a piss?” He put his eye back to the hole and ogled me.
“I’ll poke your eye out,” I threatened.
“Do you think it’s what I think it is?”
“What what is?” Not really caring what he was talking about, I fumbled for a sheet of toilet paper.
“What this is.” His eye disappeared, to my relief. I heard the rasping sound of his zipper and a moment later his thick, fleshy member slid through the hole.
I gasped, blushing like some sort of virginal schoolboy. “Finn! What on earth…” I couldn’t even finish my thought.
“Come on,” he goaded. “Don’t be so uptight. Remember how you said you wanted to add some role-play to our bedroom… you can pretend we’ve never met…. We are two lonely travelers, out on the dusty road, who just happened to stop at the same diner, looking for a little bit of pie and hoping for some action.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I scolded, but I kept staring at his cock. I knew every inch of it, every throbbing vein, but somehow, through this faceless hole, it looked unknown. He was just a stranger thrusting his horny manhood through the hole fishing for action, like a fisherman with a worm on a hook. I felt my own manhood twitch.
I knelt down on the tiled floor in front of his dick. I grasped it in one hand, rubbing it from tip to shaft. I ran my thumb in circles around the head, spreading around the trickle of precome that had just begun to collect around his slit. I heard him groan from the other side of the wall; he pushed his cock deeper through the hole begging for more of my touch. I sat back and eyed his dick once more; reaching down, I unzipped my pants and pulled my own cock out. I began stroking my length, my eye on Finn, watching his cock shudder in anticipation of my next move.
There was a gentle knock on the stall wall. “Did you fall asleep in there?” Finn questioned, his breath heavy with excitement.
“Are you in a hurry?” I teased. He just answered me with a long moan.
I put my warm, wet tongue on the head of his penis and licked. Finn sighed his approval. I slid my tongue slowly down the underside of his shaft, lingering there for a moment before working my way back up to the tip. Suddenly, I was hit with a sense of urgency, my own cock, hard and aching, begging for relief. I wrapped my lips around him and begin sucking furiously, as if it would relieve my own burning desires. Finn moaned in agreement with my sudden change of pace, his hips rocking against the stall wall, causing it to shake and shudder like the room was having an orgasm of its own.
I loved the feeling of his dick in my mouth, the smooth silk of his shaft sliding along my tongue, the swollen head hitting the back of my throat. It was almost more than he could bear, and I could feel Finn beginning to tense up; I knew he was ready to come. I backed off, slowing my pace; I wanted to savor the moment, and I wasn’t ready for this to be over quite yet.
“Don’t stop,” he pleaded through the wall. “Please, don’t stop.”
I stroked my hand down his shaft, adding to his agony. Again he begged me for more, but I didn’t relent. I knew that the thrill of the buildup was his favorite part. My fingers traced coyly around his swollen head and down the sides of his dick, still slick with my spit. Finally, I was the one who couldn’t take it anymore; I wanted his juicy cock again. I swallowed his cock, pushing it deep into my throat, taking in as much of him as I could. I pulled back—my tongue rolling around him, up and down his shaft, over the head—then pushed back down, taking in as much of his delicious manhood as I could.
“I’m going to come,” Finn gasped out.
I opened my mouth wide, letting him shoot his load into my mouth. Once more, I wrapped my lips around his member and made sure to suck and lick every last drop out of him. Before I was ready, he pulled his dick away from the hole, and a moment later it was replaced by his mouth.
“Fuck me,” he said.
Those words made my dick snap to throbbing attention. I stood up quickly when I heard the adjacent stall door unlock. I quickly unlocked my own door and stepped out. Finn stood in front of me, pants around his ankles and a hungry grin on his face. I teased my manhood and smiled back. Finn then reached out to lock the bathroom door. “No!” I shouted, pushing his body hard against the wall with my own. “Leave it unlocked.” He looked at me, surprised by my sudden kinky streak. The thought of someone walking in, of us being caught in the act, thrilled me beyond belief.
My gaze caught his, and I pushed myself closer to him, our lips meeting for a slow passionate kiss, all of our longing and need appeased for just a moment. In that moment it was just me and the man I have loved for the last five years, no diner, no old Chevy, no waitress—just Finn, myself and this kiss.
I was shaken from my bliss by a hand forcefully grabbing my crotch. Finn licked his lips.
“Fuck me,” he said again, shaking loose of my hold on him and turning around, pushing his ass up in the air for me. I stepped forward, pushing the head of my penis against his ass. I spit on my hand and slid it between his asscheeks, moistening his tight hole. I slipped a finger in, then a second and third, loosening up his asshole, teasing him, getting him ready for my cock.
Finn leaned against the wall, balancing himself on one forearm as he reached his free hand down between his legs so he could stroke my erect cock. I eased my cock into his opening, then there was a staggering wave of pleasure running through me as I sunk my cock slowly into his ass.
Finn grunted as I slid i
nside. He pushed against me, forcing more of me into his tight passage. I placed my hands on his hips to steady myself and give myself leverage. I started picking up the pace, thrusting hard and deep, pulling myself almost all the way out before watching my shaft disappear again into his ass. His grunts quickly turned to moans as he tried to brace himself against the wall, still pushing back, meeting me with every thrust. “Fuck,” he moaned. “Fuck. Fuck!” He was a man of few words. My balls banged against his, like a perverse Newton’s cradle. Every time we connected I felt a chill run up my body and down to the tip of my throbbing cock. I knew it was my turn to come and so did Finn, and once again he reached around, this time grabbing my balls, holding them, pulling on them, stretching the skin gently. This put me over the edge; with a final thrust I groaned my way through a mind-blowing orgasm. I stood there for a moment, catching my breath before I slowly let myself slide out, come still dripping. I smiled, then began to chuckle.
“Well, that was unexpected.”
Finn reached down around his ankles, fishing for his jeans. Catching them by the waistband, he pulled them up. I watched, a little disappointed, as his manhood disappeared underneath the denim.
“I told you this looked like a good place to stop and eat.” He gave me one of his impish grins.
I rolled my eyes. “You are nothing but trouble, sir.”
His grin just widened as he held open the bathroom door for me. “What do you say we get out of here and find a nice comfy hotel for the night?”
“One with more than one star and a working toilet?”
“And little to no mice,” he added.
I clutched my chest. “Be still my beating heart. You sure know how to woo a man.”
Returning to the diner, I began to feel a little sheepish. I couldn’t believe we had just done what we had, in a public restroom no less. Finn grabbed ahold of my hand and pulled me toward the door.
Tanya stepped out from behind the counter. “Hey! Don’t you boys want your pie?” she asked, pointing to our vacated table where a lonely slice of pie sat in a melting pool of vanilla ice cream.
“No thanks!” Finn said, dropping a wad of cash by the cash register as we ran for the door. “That should cover the bill!” he called back. We bolted across the parking lot like a pair of jackrabbits, exhilarated by our tryst.