*Author’s Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activities are at least eighteen years of age.
Disclaimers: Yes, I need an editor and no, I do not want an editor. If this fact bothers you that much, kindly quit reading now.
Yes, there’s too many people to keep track of, yes it jumps around too much, yes it’s too long, yes it’s too short, yes it’s in the wrong category, yes this is stupid shit, and yes I am a horrible writer, barely legible.
For everyone that has not hit the backspace key, I hope you enjoy this flash tale.
*.*.*
The Ford van had been a service van for AT&T Systems. It had almost one hundred and four thousand miles on it when Scott purchased it for three hundred dollars. He then stripped the motor out of it, cleaned it, replaced everything that looked worn, replaced all spark plugs and electrical components, then put everything back together.
He sanded the body, first with electric belt sander, then meticulously by hand, sanding away the military green paint job. The two side windows and two rear windows, he popped out. Then he carefully put in panels, used bondo to form a perfect seal. Five coats of gray primer was applied, then Scott began the real work.
He first lay two coats of Sunshine Yellow metal flake paint down. Then, from the ground upward, Scott layered a midnight blue lacquer. A dark blue-green lacquer provided a gradient lightening of the color. Then a light greenish blue lacquer went on next. Just below the lip of the van’s roof, Scott left the Sunshine Yellow to shine through.
Adjusting the nozzle for his air compressor, Scott carefully drew in the hammerhead shark, horrible teeth bared as it raced upward out of the dark ocean waters.
Three more sharks joined the shark in the forefront. On the surface of the waters, Scott drew in unaware swimmers. One overly well-endowed woman had one arm over her naked breasts as she reached for her bikini top. The scrap of cloth was in the hand of a laughing boy.
Other swimmers would soon be shark food as they frolicked in the waves of the light greenish-blue water of the ocean.
On the rear of the van, he simply drew two shark fins breaking the surface of the waters.
On the driver’s side, he drew three great white sharks knifing through the waters toward some terrified swimmers that struggled to reach the distant beach.
On the roof of his van, Scott painted an Arial view of a tiger shark.
When he’d applied the fifteenth and final coat of clear lacquer to his paint job, it no longer looked like a 1964 Ford van that had been used by the local telephone company.
The interior had likewise been modified. He’d laid two full paddings on the floor, then one full padding up the sides of the van. Over this, he lay a sandy brown shag carpet, deep pile. The ceiling of the van, he attached four Alpine Speakers, then lay more shag carpet to line the roof.
In the very rear of the van, he took a sheet of plywood, contoured it to fit perfectly, then cut a hole into the center. Flush with the bottom of the hole, he put four two by twelve boards and lay another sheet of plywood over that. Heavy padding, then shag carpet gave him a comfortable bed in the rear. A velour pillow in chocolate brown was laid on top of the foundation, making it quite cozy for making love.
Four captain’s chairs were attached to the floor and Scott had a van any man would be proud to call his own.
He installed a stereo, complete with eight track tape player, hooked that up to his Alpine speakers and also installed a JBL pre-amp to maximize the stereo’s output. He put nineteen inch tires on it, complete with chrome moon rims, and drove the van for his first day as a senior at St. Peter and Paul High School in Oakleaf, Texas.
“Dude!” more than one student praised the radical paint job.
“Dude, do mine?” Lou Reddmann demanded, pointing to his 1972 Chevy Malibu.
“Man,” Scott said. “Ain’t enough paint hide a piece of shit Chevy.”
“Bite the big one, Waggoman,” Lou glared.
Scott gave Lou a price of four hundred and fifty bucks to do the paint job, knowing Lou wouldn’t agree to such an outrageous amount of money. Lou almost did agree, until Scott said it would have to be up front.
Tony Brookmeyer looked at Scott’s van, squinting his eyes. Up close, it looked like four sharks rising up to get dinner. But from forty feet away, Tony could swear he saw four hard cocks standing proud and erect. He circled around to the other side, and again, up close, it looked like two sharks about to eat. But as he stepped back, he could see two massive erections. One of the erections appeared ready to spear an anus. Up close, the anus looked like a whitecap on a wave and a sand dune just above that whitecap, with a light scrub of brush, perhaps a piece of driftwood.
He ran his hand over his short blonde hair and lamented that he’d had to cut off all of his beautiful hair.
All summer long, he’d let his blonde hair grow until it was just hanging in his brown eyes. But, then, hatay escort the Saturday before school was to start, his mother put him in her Chrysler Newport and drove to King’s Image barbershop to get his hair cut for his final year of school at Saint Pee-pee, what he called St. Peter and Paul High School.
“What you think? Scott asked Tony.
Tony looked at the handsome young man, with his dark brown hair, cut in a stylish shag, parted in the middle, layered, his dark brown eyes underneath his heavy eyebrows and his strong square face. Scott smiled as he nodded toward his van.
“It’s cool, man, really cool,” Tony said.
He’d almost blurted out that the sharks looked like cocks from this distance.
He almost blurted out that the whitecaps on the rear of the van looked like the two dorsal fins were actually cockheads, spurting a hot load of semen.
But if he even hinted at any of this, Tony was afraid Scott would call him a ‘fag.’ And in 1978, in Oakleaf, Texas, there were no sins worse than being labeled a ‘fag.’
Scott nodded his thanks at the compliment.
“Got to see the inside of it man,” he said.
“Yeah?” Tony asked.
“Man, saw you at Derby’s, what? Two, no, yeah, two weeks ago? Had your hair down to here, man,” Scott said, touching Tony’s shoulders.
“Yeah, well, school says got to be over the ears, can’t touch the collar,” Tony said, face hot.
Scott had touched him and Tony had wanted him to touch him some more.
The buzzer sounded, alerting the milling students that they had only fifteen minutes to get to their homeroom classes.
“Damn, hope we don’t have Brother John this year,” Scott said as they walked toward the front doors of the school.
“Our luck? He’ll be our homeroom teacher,” Tony agreed.
“Man! Jinx us, huh? He’s our homeroom teacher, I’ll give you a wedgie up to your eyeballs, man!” Scott playfully threatened.
Scott looked once more at his van and wondered if anyone had noticed that the sharks were actually cocks.
A few days after the start of the school year, at around four thirty in the afternoon, Scott was driving down Highway 41, no particular destination in mind. School had let out nearly an hour ago. Scott had hung around, played a little basketball with Lou and Terry, then they’d left.
Scott was lonely. He had acquaintances, people that knew him, and he knew them. They’d wave to each other at the Dairy Queen, or at the snowball stand. If they saw each other at Derby’s Roller Rink, they’d get together, maybe play some of the pinball machines.
But Scott had no friends. He had no one he could talk to. He had no one he could pull close and whisper secret feelings with.
He had no one he could whisper, “You see how much hair Greg has on his chest?”
Or, “Seen Delbert’s whang? Thought black guys were supposed to have big ones, huh?”
Coach Sanders made them shower after every Physical Education class.
“Ain’t running around school stinking up the damned place,” he bellowed at them. “Ain’t nothing be shy about, get in there and shower. Oh. And use soap, huh?”
Coach didn’t seem to realize, for at least one eighteen year old boy, looking at eleven other eighteen year old boys’ swinging dicks and hanging balls was absolute torture. Looking at beautiful, well-rounded backsides, soapy lather running down their cracks was cruel
Looking at one blond haired boy with a smooth chest, narrow waist, and sparse mat of crinkly blond pubic hair, long thick shaft with thick foreskin at the tip was harsh punishment.
Scott felt his cock growing hard as he thought about Tony Brookmeyer, thought about the handsome young man as they stood next to each other, toweling off.
He just wanted to kiss Tony, wanted to taste Tony’s pouting lips. He wanted to nuzzle Tony’s neck as he ran his hands over Tony’s smooth chest and fat looking nipples.
He wanted to comb his fingers through Tony’s pubic hair, wanted to stroke Tony’s fat dick, wanted to see how much Tony’s heavy balls weighed.
He wanted to run his tongue underneath Tony’s thick foreskin, wanted to stroke Tony’s hard cock, wanted to run his tongue up and down Tony’s smooth shaft. He wanted to lick and suck on Tony’s heavy balls, maybe even bite them lightly. He wanted to run his tongue up and down the crack of Tony’s sweet looking bubble butt, really get his tongue into the sweaty crack, then find Tony’s tight little anus.
He wanted to suck and stroke Tony’s hard, throbbing cock, until Tony let out a strangled cry and Scott could taste, savor all of Tony’s delicious semen.
Then he wanted to bend Tony over and grease up Tony’s tight little pucker.
No, no, he wanted to sit back in his captain’s chair and let Tony sit on his lap. He wanted Tony to reach between them, grab the shaft of Scott’s long, thick cock and place the blunt head at the mouth of his ass.
He wanted Tony to grunt, maybe even curse, as Scott’s hard dick slid, inch after inch, into Tony’s tight little ığdır escort hole.
But if he fucked Tony like that, then he wouldn’t be able to watch his fat cock spear Tony’s ass. He wanted to watch as Tony’s tight little brown ring stretched to accommodate his girth. He wanted to watch as Tony’s ass swallowed inch after inch, until all seven and three quarters of an inch were deep in Tony’s tight ass.
“I’d fuck him hard, man, fuck him hard,” Scott thought as his stereo blasted Boston’s ‘More Than a Feeling.’
Ma Bell obviously did not think their repairmen needed air conditioning. The van had what Scott’s dad called ‘Two Forty’ air conditioning. Where you rolled down the two windows and drove forty miles an hour. He had to turn up the stereo to hear the music over the road and wind noise that buffeted into the van.
While Scott was driving aimlessly around, Tony was in his bedroom, slowly stroking his cock. He skinned the foreskin down and tickled his ultra-sensitive cockhead. His other hand squeezed and massaged his heavy balls, where the delicious sperm was stored. Then, when the tickling grew too intense, he moved his hand down from his cockhead to his fat shaft. His hand gripped the smooth slab of meat and stroked it, up and down. Once the sensitivity had ceased building up in his cockhead, he again tickled the sensitive flesh.
He came close to ejaculation and ceased his stroking and tickling. When the crisis passed, Tony again started the whole process again.
Then, when he’d driven himself to near torment, he finally gripped his cock and stroked it hard. His seven inches of flesh throbbed and jerked, then the delicious sperm jetted out, onto his hairless belly and chest.
“Oh!” he let out a shuddering moan.
Then he used his hand to wipe the semen from his skin and licked his hand clean.
The taste of semen always caused his shrinking cock to again begin filling with blood. But he had homework that needed to be done. So he put on a pair of tight underwear and sat at his desk.
*.*.*
“Man, St. Andrew’s dog meat, man!” Scott enthused as they left the pep rally.
“Man, Them Sacred Ascension girls are fine!” Delbert said.
He was talking about the cheerleaders from their sister school, Sacred Ascension. Just as St. Peter and Paul was an all boy Catholic School, Sacred Ascension was an all-girl Catholic school. The two schools combined extra-curricular activities, such as football, drama club, so forth.
For many of the boys, and for many of the girls, Pep Rallies were the highlight of the school week. The girls got to see all the cute boys that attended St. Peter and Paul and the boys got to see the girls that attended Sacred Ascension.
Best of all, the boys got to see five of the girls in red and white cheerleader’s uniforms, jumping up and down, flashing bright red satin panties.
“They’re dog meat, man!” Tony echoed Scott.
“Want to go, man?” Scott asked Tony.
“No way get there, man,” Tony said.
“Dude, I’m driving, all right?” Scott offered.
St. Andrew’s was in Lowridge, Texas, a town located nearly an hour’s drive away. As it was their homecoming, the game was being played there.
“Yeah, sure!” Tony said, delighted.
The two boys drove from Oakleaf to Lowridge, chattering excitedly. They chatted about nothing at all, but both were happy to be with a friend on Friday night.
St. Andrew had obviously practiced; they soundly trounced the St. Peter and Paul Crusaders, 39 to 13. During the game, Tony had jostled against Scott as they stood to cheer the solitary touchdown. Scott rubbed against Tony as Lou managed a thirty six yard field goal. In the fourth quarter, they again bumped into each other, then cheered as Lou managed another field goal, this one from twenty nine yards out.
“Man, that bites the big one,” Tony complained as they trudged toward Scott’s van.
“I’m going to have nightmares because of your van,” a St. Andrew’s cheerleader spat at Scott.
“I’m going have nightmares because of you,” Scott shot back and both he and Tony giggled at the sour look the girl shot them.
“Man, she sucks big donkey dick,” Scott said as they drove out of the parking lot.
“Her? Sucks big greasy buzzard dick,” Tony corrected.
“Yeah!” Scott laughed.
Turning to drive north on Highway 41, Scott chanced a look over at the cute eighteen year old blond. He was wearing a snug polyester shirt that had a playing card motif on it. His jeans were snug, showing a sizable lump, and his feet were shoved into leather moccasins.
“I uh, you uh, you ain’t got go straight home, huh?” Scott brazenly asked.
“Huh? I uh, no, I mean, my mom knows we’re at the football game,” Tony agreed.
Scott turned onto a side street and pulled in front of some business offices in Great Oak, Texas. The granite and glass buildings were dark, there were no cars in the parking lot.
“I uh, you uh, you want talk?” Scott asked.
“Sure, I uh, what you want talk ısparta escort about?” Tony asked.
They rolled up the windows; the mosquitos were starting to invade the vehicle.
“I uh, I don’t know, I mean…” Scott said.
Then they were kissing. Neither Scott nor Tony knew who had started it, but they were kissing. Their tongues tasted each other’s tongues. Scott’s hands rubbed Tony’s tightly crinkled nipples through his tight shirt.
Scott reached down and unzipped Tony’s jeans and discovered Tony wasn’t wearing underwear. Tony’s hard, smooth shaft was in his hand and Tony was moaning into his mouth.
Scott and Tony knee walked to the bed in the rear of the van where they stripped out of their snug clothing.
“Mm!” Tony gave a strangled cry as Scott’s mouth wrapped itself around his cockhead.
Tony lay on his back as Scott stroked and sucked his cock with fervor.
The garish dome light cast dim shadows around the van as Scott licked and stroked and sucked Tony’s fat cock.
“I, oh, man, I’m ’bout to…” Tony moaned and Scott increased his suction and his stroking.
“Argh!” Tony grunted and Scott’s mouth filled with Tony’s delicious sperm.
“Be right back, got some Jergen’s in the glove box,” Scott panted when Tony’s cock quit spurting into his sucking mouth.
Scott grabbed the small bottle of hand lotion, then scampered back to where Tony lay, still gasping after such an intense orgasm.
“Huh? I uh, oh man, yeah, fucking right man,” Tony said, then agreed as Scott rolled him over onto his knees.
Scott dribbled some lotion onto his fingertips, then began to finger fuck Tony’s tight anus. Inexperienced as he was, Scott did not make sure that Tony was ready for the intrusion; he just shoved his blunt fingers into Tony’s hole.
Tony only grunted a protest, but was soon enjoying Scott’s fingers sliding in and out of his hole.
Scott whished the light was better; he really couldn’t see much as he applied lotion to his cock and prepared to fuck Tony’s jiggling ass. But he did get to see the head of his cock disappear into Tony’s greasy anus.
“Ugh!” both boys cried out as the head of Scott’s cock slid into Tony’s ass.
“God, wait, man, wait,” Tony protested.
But Scott did not wait. He steadily shoved his cock into his lover’s hot, tight hole.
“Ugh! God, man, stop! Stop!” Tony sobbed out as white hot pain sheared through his tight back door.
Scott didn’t hear Tony’s protests. He heard nothing, saw nothing. He could only feel his cock being squeezed in a pulsing, tight vise grip.
“Ugh, oh God man, God, love your hot ass, man,” Scott wheezed as he continued to worm his cock into Tony’s hole.
The searing pain had begun to recede. Now there was just a raw throbbing pain as Scott’s cock continued to jam into his ass.
“You wanted this, man,” Tony reminded himself. “Huh? Been wanting get fucked, you got it.”
“God yes,” Scott groaned as he was now balls deep in Tony’s ass.
He lay down, his chest pressed against Tony’s sweating back. Scott softly kissed Tony’s cheek as they lay, both groaning and gasping.
“Fuck, man, love you,” Scott said and pushed himself up.
He began to pull his cock out of Tony’s tight, pulsing ass.
“Ugh!” Tony grunted.
“Know man, I know, fuck its tight,” Scott wheezed as he continued to pull his cock out of the clutching hole.
Then he was driving himself back in.
“Mother fucker!” Tony gave a strangled bark as Scott drove himself back into his protesting hole.
“Fuck yeah, fuck yeah,” Scott agreed.
“Aw God,” Tony sobbed out as the raw pain was now a pleasurable warmth in his guts.
Scott began to jab his cock in and out of Tony’s hole. Tony began to hunch upward, to meet his lover’s thrusts.
“Ugh, o fuck!” both boys cried out as Scott’s semen began to spew into Tony’s back door and Tony’s semen squirted out onto the velour pillow.
For several long moments, neither boy moved. They grunted and gasped for air. Then Scott pulled his slimy cock from Tony’s bruised anus.
Still naked, the two eighteen year old boys kissed. Then, Scott pulled Tony to one of the rear captain’s chairs. He sat on the chocolate brown vinyl seat, then pulled Tony onto his resurging cock.
“Aw, come on man, my ass can’t take…” Tony protested even as Scott was pushing up into him.
When Scott was buried in Tony’s slimy ass to the hilt, Tony grunted and groaned, feeling the invading cock deep within him. Then he slowly rose up.
“Aw fuck man, fuck man, fuck yeah man,” Scott groaned as Tony’s snug hole gripped his cock tightly.
Since both had just ejaculated, they were able to fuck for several long moments. Finally, Scott gave a strangled grunt and Tony whimpered as he felt Scott’s hot semen again flooding his bowels.
Then he sat in the opposite chair and presented his hard cock. Scott knelt on the padded floor of the van and sucked and slurped, giving Tony a noisy blow job. Tony then grunted and filled Scott’s mouth with a hot load of creamy dick juice.
On the drive home, both were content to let the wind and road noise drown out any conversation. Neither boy really knew what to say.
“I uh, doing anything tomorrow night?” Scott asked as they pulled up in front of Tony’s house.
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