Overalls

What a weird year it had been. I had totaled my car, dropped out of school,
been dumped by my girlfriend, gotten a new place to live, found a roommate,
become really good friends, and now he was off to jail, leaving me alone
again. The rent had been paid for up-front with student loans for the
classes I’d since dropped out of, but I would need a new roommate — not to
mention a job — when spring finally came. Tonight, though, was all about
Tom, my idiot roommate whose friend Brian talked him into helping
burglarize the deli where Brian worked when they were drinking one night.
Tom drank too much, and now he was paying a high price. He hadn’t wanted
any of his friends at court, and had called to confirm he wasn’t coming
home. The friends who’d wanted to be there for him were now essentially
mourning in the living room. Of the five, two were both ex-girlfriends, and
the other three were guys: Miles, a redneck friend of Tom’s from town,
Riley, a college student who was friends with us both, and Trevor, a gay
high school kid who had a crush on Tom.

“I’m straight, but I’m not narrow,” Tom said when I asked him about Trevor.
He had never exactly led Trevor on, but I think he liked the attention.
Now, Trevor and the girls, Tracy and Dee, were huddled together in shared
loss, while Miles and Riley — who didn’t have anything in common other
than their mutual friend — were sitting around in uncomfortable
silence. That silence was punctuated only by soft sobs and muted sounds of
condolence until a knock came at the door, a bit too loud for the mood, and
startling everyone. I went to the the back of the apartment to open it (we
rented the second floor of a house, and the entrance was on the back porch)
and as I did, in stumbled JC, bundled up against the subzero temperatures
of the northern winter night. Another high-school-aged friend of Tom’s, JC
was younger than Trevor, maybe 15 or so, and from his grin I could tell he
was drunk. I didn’t know him well, but that was not a surprise.

“Miles!” he called out, pushing past me through the kitchen into the living
room. I wasn’t sure if he’d heard the news about Tom, but figured he’d get
it soon enough. Turns out the kid’s presence broke up the somber mood just
enough. He dropped his heavy coat and just started rambling on, as a happy
drunk is wont. Smiles started appearing on grim faces, and Riley produced a
joint. After taking it, JC said to the room in general, “I fucked myself up
skateboarding, want to see?”

He didn’t exactly wait for a response. He was wearing overalls, which he
unfastened and carefully lowered as he twisted around to show his
backside. As the garment dropped lower, a thick white bandage came into
view. It was on his left butt cheek, about halfway around towards the hip,
and as he held up his overalls with one hand, he carefully peeled away the
tape with the other so that we could all see the patch of road rash
underneath. Despite the cold outside, he wasn’t wearing underwear, long or
otherwise, underneath; I figured that was evidence of just how drunk he
was, if he couldn’t feel that it was about ten below out there. We also had
heat included, so it was over 70 inside.

JC stumbled a bit as we peered at the injury, and laughed a bit as he put
himself together. While he buttoned up the sides of his overalls again, he
let the straps remain dangling. “I’ll have to clean it again soon,” he
said.

He plopped himself on the couch, right between the two girls, and
smiled. “What’s going on?” he asked, accepting the joint again as it was
handed to him.

“Tom got sentenced tonight,” I said. “He’s already in jail.”

JC’s expression changed quickly. “That sucks, man,” he said. Then he
brightened up again, and proclaimed, “We should drink for Tom!” He stood up
again, reaching into a back pocket that must have been bigger than it
looked to produce a bottle of Wild Turkey. He put it on the table — I
nearly had to steady him as he bent over for that trick — and then said,
“Man, it’s really hot in here,” and took off his shirt. Tossing it aside,
it flopped down on the couch between Tracy and Dee, putting his arms around
them and smiling.

The boy was clearly drunk and intent on getting even more so, and would
find any excuse to do so. No matter, he was making people smile and we all
needed that. We passed the bottle and the joint, we told stories about Tom
and talked about things we’d do when he got out, which we hoped was
soon. Maybe it was all a mistake, we reasoned, and he’d be free in a few
days. I don’t know that anyone actually believed it, but since the only one
of us with a car — Tracy — lived hours away, the rest of us were going to
have a hard time visiting him for the duration.

Gradually, the gathering broke up and people started heading out into the
cold. Tracy had already planned on spending the night because she had a
long drive ahead, and JC lingered near her. He was keeping close enough to
violate her personal space, but I couldn’t tell if she cared or
not. However, I also wasn’t sure if she was in the mental space to decide,
and it was pretty clear what he was hoping to get out of it.

As I closed the door behind Miles, JC called out, “Okay if I crash here
tonight?” That came as no surprise, and I agreed, but decided to keep a
careful watch. I am a strong advocate for clear consent, and I understood
that a drunk and likely horny teenage boy might not have the self-control
around an emotionally bereft young woman to respect her boundaries. I laid
down on one of the couches while JC — no surprises here — found himself
next to where Tracy was setting up her sleeping bag in the other half of
the large room, behind the couch I was on.

Despite my best intentions, the smoke and drink worked on me in the warm
room after we shut off the lights, and I drifted to sleep. I don’t know how
long I was out, but I awoke to the sounds of whispering and
kissing. Rustling of covers as bodies slid and rolled. More urgent
whispers, first in a woman’s voice, then some in lower, urgent
tones. Clearing my head, I sat up.

“JC,” I said. “I need to talk to you in the kitchen. Now.” I walked out,
turning on the light, and expecting the kid to follow. In a moment he did,
his overalls again dangling from his slender hips. He was making a show of
rubbing his eyes.

“What’s good?” he said.

“You can’t have her, man. Not tonight. She wants to break up with Tom and
get with you that’s cool, but it’s too soon for her to decide that. You’re
drunk, you’re horny, you don’t know how to stop, which is why I’m stopping
you. If you want to sleep here it’s going to be in my bed. If that’s a
problem, you can go somewhere else.”

He looked ready to protest, but I put a finger on his mouth. “The only
thing I want to hear is whether you are staying here. Are you? Just nod.”
He did, and I said, “Good. Take a piss if you need to, and then we’re going
to bed.” I led him back through the living room, ushered him into my own,
and gave Tracy a terse “good night” before shutting the door.

“You sleep there,” I said, pointing to the side of the bed farthest from
the door. I figured he might try to slip out later. “Need anything?”

“Nah man,” he said, and I turned out the light. Then he added, “You care
what I sleep in?”

“Just as long as you don’t leave the room until morning, it’s fine by me,”
I said, as I slipped in under the covers. I heard each shoe in turn hit the
floor, and then fabric rustling with the clink of metal fasteners, before
he slid in on the other side.

I expected him to pass out quickly, given how much he’d put away, but
instead he fidgeted for awhile, turned over, and then swore under his
breath. “What’s wrong?” I said, grateful that he was at least trying to be
quiet.

“Forgot about the bandage on my road rash and tore it off,” he said. “Can
you turn on the light? I don’t want to bleed on your sheets.”

Getting out of bed, I flipped on the switch, then waiting for my eyes to
adjust. JC was lying on his stomach, quite naked, covers down to about his
knees, trying to twist around and look at the problem. If he hadn’t been
lying down, he probably would have fallen down. The gauze was almost
completely off, and the tape had stuck together; JC was trying to pull it
apart but it obviously wasn’t going to work.

“Hang on,” I said, and I went into my closet to get the first aid kit I
sometimes use while hiking. It was smaller than the one in the bathroom,
but I didn’t want to wake Tracy if she was asleep, and I figured I could
solve the problem with the supplies I had on hand.

Placing the kit on the bed, I said, “Stop fidgeting and let me get a look
at it.” He moved his hand to allow me access. “Okay, it’s not bleeding but
the scab will probably reopen if you sleep without it covered. I’ll clean
it again real quick and put new gauze on it, since you’re not wearing
underwear.”

“Easy in, easy out,” he said, thrusting his hips into my mattress with a
giggle.

“Down, boy,” I replied, even while hoping he wouldn’t notice that I was far
from down in my boxers. This boy was a hottie, he was naked, and he was
letting me touch his ass. Damn.

My hands shook a bit as I cleaned the area, then I folded up some new gauze
and taped it more securely in place than the last batch had been. “That
ought to hold even if you toss and turn a little,” I said.

In response, JC rolled over onto this left hip until he ended up on his
back, and inspected the new bandage with his fingers. “Looks good,” he
said, but I wasn’t looking at the bandage. I was looking at the cock before
me, which was erect as could be and pointing right at his navel. His pubic
hair, the same shade of brown as what was on his head, formed a delicate
triangle to each side of his fat meat, with a smattering of hairs on his
scrotum as well.

Following my eyes, JC put one hand behind his head and grabbed the base of
his boner with the other. “You said I was horny,” he said, waving it around
a bit.

“I thought you might sleep it off,” I said, my mouth dry. I couldn’t stop
looking at his penis. It was maybe six and half, seven inches long, and
thick enough to be a cock, but not a beer can dick. There was a little
dollop of hair under his arm, but his pecs and abs were naturally smooth.

“I thought I might put it somewhere warm and wet, but that didn’t work out
either,” he said with a pout. “I’m so horny I don’t even care where
anymore.” He spread his legs a little, as if to say, “Please?”

I gave up worrying that he could see how hard I was, and said, “I guess I
feel the same way. It would be nice to be someplace warm, and wet.”

JC looked at my face, then my crotch. “Come here,” he said, and I climbed
onto the bed, kneeling beside his head. He leaned up on one elbow and
pulled my boxers down. “Okay, he said, then grabbed my throbbing dick and
stuck it in his mouth. It was unexpected and astounding to find myself in
this cute boy’s mouth, and my leg began to spasm, causing me to lose my
balance almost immediately.

“Lie down and get busy,” he said, his voice dropping in pitch.

I followed that order right away. The heady musk of his crotch subsumed me,
and all I could think of was servicing this boy’s cock. My hands found
purchase in his firm butt cheeks, although I had to be careful not to
disturb my recent first-aid work. Truthfully, I don’t think JC would have
cared.

No need for any kind of foreplay: I dove right in and sucked that boy’s
cock. There is nothing that turns me on more than 69, and that was really
my downfall. If feeling his lips and tongue tentatively on my own meat
wasn’t enough itself, together with JC’s hard cock sliding into my mouth I
was put over the edge in no time flat. There were sounds of choking and
spitting, but all I cared about was the intensity of my orgasm and keeping
this boy’s penis firmly lodged in my own mouth during the ride.

I managed to stay focused by looking at and feeling up his body as I
consumed his cock. The sounds of spitting subsided, to be replaced by
groans. I was a little worried that Tracy would hear, but not so much that
I did anything about it. Soon he was thrusting into me, such that his balls
smashed up against my nose frequently enough that I wondered how much abuse
they could possibly take. ‘Kicks to the groin notwithstanding, balls are
tough’ wandered through my head, but the errant thought was chased out of
my skull by a flood of cum that threatened to fill my cranium completely. I
felt like I mostly swallowed it down, but my sheets had been well soiled
less than half an hour after I’d closed my bedroom door.

Laying back, I looked him over. JC was lithe, smooth, and still hard as
steel. His brown eyes sought out mine, and then he asked, “Got any lube?”

“I’m not sure I want a fifteen-year-old drunk kid fucking me,” I answered.

“Fourteen, actually,” he replied, “and I’ll take that as a yes.”

“JC, you’re really hot and I definitely want you inside me someday, but
that involves a lot more cleanup than what just happened. There’s no way we
could do that without Tracy figuring it out. We’d be in and out of the
room, which would smell like ass and sex.”

He sighed. “Will you suck me again?”

“Can I give my throat a rest first?”

“Fine. How about you eat my ass?” Reading the look I gave him, he said,
“What? I wipe.”

I was conscious that the light was still on, and if Tracy were awake she
might be curious why it was peeking out from beneath the door. Putting a
hand to my lips, I stole over and flipped the switch before returning to
the bed. I could still see him in the illumination of the street light
outside, and if anything it made him look even more sexy.

Lowering myself atop the boy, I whispered, “If you’re not clean, I’m done,”
and then with a quick peck on the lips I began kissing my way down his
lithe frame. I spent enough time on his neck to realize he liked it
sensual, and as I passed lower I caressed his ribs and shoulders. He rose
to meet my mouth, particularly as I approached his eager cock. Its musk
made my mouth water, but I allowed myself only a few wet kisses on tip and
shaft; I was serious about my throat being tired due to that beast. He did
not shave (thank goodness!), but I felt no hairs sprouting from his
dangling sack.

When at last I reached my target, I expected a bit more assistance: knees
lifted, perhaps, or at least legs spread. Even when I parted them myself I
got no responses, which made me suspicious. Stretching, I crawled back up
to where his head rested on the pillow, and listened. JC was lightly
snoring. I decided it was more about how much he’d had to drink than my
skills, and tossed a blanket over both of us.

Come morning I slipped on some clothes and stole out of the room without
rousing my young angel. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what his reaction to being
naked in my bed might even be. Tracy and I went out to breakfast, and she
dropped me off on her way out of town. When I got back inside, the boy was
gone. I wondered if I’d ever see him again.

The End