Charlie Blackbear

Chapter 2

Chapter 2Despite a jumpy gut, I wandered around looking for some place to eat and spotted a familiar Buick in front of a pancake house. Bart waved me over, so I parked it in the booth and grumbled when he asked how I was this morning.

“Couldn’t find a piece last night, huh?”

“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.” And then I just blurted it all out, probably because I was still mad as hell.

“What did the note say?” Bart asked. I fished it out of my pocket and threw it across the table. He read it. “I’m impressed. You were drunk on your ass, but this guy says you got that big c**k up as hard as he’d ever seen.”

“Don’t make fun of me, man. I’d a kicked his head in if I hadn’t been so drunk.”

Bart chuckled. “I’m not making fun of you. I told you, I’m impressed. Big. Hard. That was a compliment from someone who’s seen a lot of cocks.”

“f*****g fairy,” I mumbled. “I’d like to break his neck!”

“Why are you so mad?”

“Wouldn’t you be?”

“Probably at first. Then I’d think about it and say the cat was pretty cool. He got to the hunkiest, best-looking stud in these parts, but he didn’t just take advantage of you; he showed his gratitude, and you’ve got a place to stay tonight.”

“You sound like you think what he did was all right.”

“No, I don’t. You don’t take advantage of somebody who’s helpless. But he had balls, and he had style.”

“What’d he mean when he says he used my leg?”

“He humped your leg until he came.”

“Dirty, f*****g…”

I cut it off when the waitress brought him his order. He told her to bring me a ‘he-man breakfast’ and put it on his ticket.

“Anyway, I found a piece this morning,” I lied. “One of the maids walked in on me when I was drying off from my shower.”

Bart smiled. “See, he didn’t ruin you. Your c**k still works on women.”

“What you mean hunkiest, best looking stud? You queer?”

“No, but if I was going to try it with a guy, it’d be somebody like you.”

I mulled that over until the waitress brought me the biggest breakfast I’d ever seen. “You saying I turn you on?”

“No.” Then he stopped and looked me square in the eye. “Well, kinda. You’re one good-looking son of a b***h. Sexy as hell too.”

I sputtered. “Man, you said you’re not queer. Why would I turn you on?”

He gave that some thought. “Didn’t know you were until we got to talking about it. Maybe you did yesterday when I gave you a ride too. I don’t usually pick up hitchhikers. And I don’t go around talking about c**k sizes the way we did.”

“That was just man talk.” I blinked. Here was this macho guy that wasn’t a pansy, and he was talking about me turning him on. You knew he’d had a lot of women just by looking at him.

“Yeah, maybe,” he said. “Tell me something, and answer me honestly. When you woke up and found that guy sucking you, you could have stopped him. Why didn’t you? And don’t feed me that drunk routine. You weren’t too drunk to get a hard-on. Not so drunk you passed out.”

“Hey, man, what you trying to say? You better watch it.”

“Just answer the question. Why didn’t you stop him?”

“It was too late when I woke up; I was already shooting off.”

“And you just lay there and let him finish. So you must have liked it.” He held his thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. “Just a little bit?”

“Hell no!” But damned if my d**k didn’t squiggle a little in my shorts. This big guy was beginning to get to me. “Man, you’re talking crap. If he showed up right now, I’d knock his teeth down his throat.”

“Yeah, because he did it without your permission. But if we did it, it’d be because we agreed.”

“Us? Don’t talk crazy! Why would we do it?”

“Because you’re turning me on. I don’t know about you, but I’m sitting over here with a hard-on.”

“s**t!” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I wasn’t about to let him know my c**k was crawling down my leg. I didn’t understand it.

“Make a deal with you. Let’s go to your room and find out how we feel about it. Might surprise us both. I’ll match what that John guy gave you.”

“Ain’t gonna happen!” I paused. “You were gonna pay me to go to bed with you?”

“Yeah. That surprises me too, but I’m really getting interested. Never sat in a public restaurant with a hard-on talking to a guy about having s*x with him before.”

“Me neither,” I blurted. “Didn’t mean it that way. I ain’t got a hard-on.”

He grinned. “If you aren’t hard, stand up and walk to the restroom.”

“I don’t have to go to the bathroom. And I don’t have to prove nothing.”

“How about it? We’ll go to your room, and I’ll leave fifty dollars on the dresser.”

“Go to hell! I’m going to the powwow. As…as soon as I finish eating,” I ended lamely, No way I could get up. My c**k was stiff and twisted up in my shorts so much it hurt. What the f**k was going on?

Bart started talking about the powwow and the countryside and all kinds of things, and he seemed like a regular guy again. Fucker’d been putting me on. He offered me a lift to the fairgrounds, and I checked out his basket when he got up. He didn’t have a hard-on. Course, it could of gone down. Mine had. To be on the safe side, I didn’t go to the restroom to take a leak before we left.

Just before I got out of the car at the fairgrounds, he stopped me with a hand on my arm. “In case you change your mind, I’m going to stay around again today. I’ll park in your motel parking lot at eleven tonight. Just give me a wave, and I’ll follow you in. What’s your room number?”

“Don’t remember.” I crawled out of the car. It was way too early to be at the powwow, but I didn’t want Bart knowing where I was staying. The note. Where was the note? s**t, he kept it! Hell, it had the name of the motel right on the paper. But he didn’t know my room number.

My whole day got thrown off. That frigging breakfast finished sobering me up, so I had to get drunk all over again, and my money didn’t stretch that far at bootleg prices. By nightfall, I was broke and hungry and only had a mild buzz. The people I’d hooked up with wanted to go to the local nightclub where the cover charge was more’n I had. A girl offered to pay my way, so I went along. The guy on the door gave us the fisheye but didn’t card me.

Pretty soon, I figured out the girl didn’t have much money, so I told her I had a room for the night and tried to get her to leave with me. She claimed she wasn’t ready yet. Before long, the guys at our table got tired of buying me drinks, and my mood slid downhill fast. I’d passed up a couple of other opportunities, and now this tight-assed little b***h wouldn’t peel off from her buddies. Every time I mentioned I had a room, she said So-And-So and What’s-His-Name didn’t have any place to stay. Last thing I wanted was a bunch of drunk Indians sleeping and puking all over the place. That room was just for me and her. I about got in a fistfight when What’s-His-Name tried to move in on Tight-Ass. She liked me better, but he had money to spend, so I took off before I punched him out.

The next place carded me, but I found some guys in a parking lot and bummed a few drinks offa them. None of those bozos knew where the party was. Hell, there’s always a party at a powwow, but I didn’t have transportation or money, and I didn’t know the town that well. Disgusted, I moccasin-crawled back to the motel. A clock outside a bank I passed said it was after midnight, so if Bart had come by, he’d be gone by now.

I didn’t even think to check for his car, but he blinked his lights at me as I put the key in the door. When I turned to see who it was, he held up a bag. Burger King looked awful good right then, so I waved him in.

“Just for the hamburger,” I said. “Nothing else.”

“Yeah, sure.”

I guess I was still a little high, because I stripped off my boots and hung my shirt over a chair so it would look decent for tomorrow before crawling on the mattress with a cheeseburger on my lap. Bart plopped down on the other end to eat his.

“Struck out?” he asked from behind a big bite.

“Yeah. That’s all right. I’ll f**k the maid in the morning.”

The food wasn’t sobering me up, but it wasn’t letting me profit from the last drinks in the parking lot, neither. I leaned my head back against the headboard and closed my eyes. When I opened them, Bart was studying my bare chest.

He glanced up at me and smiled. “You’re sure one hunky son of a gun.”

“Aw, don’t start that again.” I was beat. “Besides, if you telling me the truth, and you ain’t queer, what we gonna do together? I sure as s**t ain’t gonna do nothing to you. You gonna suck my c**k?”

“Have to take it by steps, I guess. I want to see you first.”

“f**k, that’s nothing.” That was the alcohol talking. “But you keep your hands off, hear?” He nodded, so I slipped out of my pants and shorts and spread my legs out on the bed. It felt kinda good to be free of them. “There! Turn you on?”

“Yeah,” he drew out the word, his eyes darting all over my body. They always came back to my crotch. I started feeling weird and pulled at the covers.

“No,” he said, stopping me. “Let me look.”

So I laid there like a buck-nekked i***t while he studied everything I had. “Turn you on?” I asked again, with half a laugh.

“Damn right. Like crazy.”

“You’re nuts. It don’t neither.”

Before I could protest, he got up and stripped off his clothes. He was a big man. No fat, just muscle. He had light brown chest fur, a head nearer blond, and dark hair running down his belly to his c**k. He was half-hard and rising fast.

“Believe me now?” he asked, standing with his hands on his hips. His d**k beat a rhythm in the air, stiff as a crowbar. “Charlie, I’m going to touch you, okay?”

I didn’t say nothing, so he took that to mean yes. He sat down on the bed and laid a big hand on my leg. I didn’t flinch. His fist looked like a gigantic bug that had crawled up there. He moved it up and down the inside of my thigh, never reaching anywhere real private, but coming close. To my surprise, my c**k moved. He saw it.

“Now I’m going to feel that monster, okay?” I didn’t say nothing, but when his hand moved, I batted it away. “Now, Charlie, I’m just going to touch it, that’s all.”

I felt his fingers on the underside of my c**k. He stroked it real gentle, moving up to the tip where it’s most sensitive. It got a little bigger.

“Damn, Charlie, how much do you weigh?”

I looked at him through bleary eyes. “Weigh? Hunnerd sixty, I guess.”

“You must be a skinny bastard then, because that c**k and those balls gotta weigh fifty pounds all by themselves.”

For some reason that was funny. When I laughed out loud, he grasped the shaft of my c**k in his hand. “Hey!”

“I’m still just touching you, Charlie. Can I pump it a couple of times so you can tell me how it feels?”

I stared at his hand and my c**k like they both belonged to somebody else, but when he ran the foreskin over the end and back down my shaft again, it was me that felt it.

“Feel good?” he asked. I shook my head. “Now, Charlie, it does, and you know it.” He moved his other hand to my sac and massaged my balls.

I looked at him unsteadily. He was watching his hands play with my privates. “You never done this before?”

“Never,” he said. “But I’ve been wondering what it would be like.”

“What’s it like?” I got surprised by my own words.

“Try it for yourself.” He looked down at his own hard c**k. It was dripping out the end now.

“Uh-uh! I ain’t no queer.”

“I’m not either, Charlie, and there’s not a man around who can say I am. But I’m really getting a charge out of you, and I want to try what that guy did last night.”

“You want to suck my c**k? I don’t believe it! You must be a fairy.”

“If I wasn’t holding your c**k in my hand, I’d bust your chops for that.”

I couldn’t help it; I laughed out loud, stretching out some more on the bed when I did. First thing I know, his tongue was on the end of my d**k, which was as big and hard as it ever got. I thought about hitting him, but then his lips slid over my swollen cockhead, and I let it go.

He came up for a minute. “You like that, Charlie?”

“No!” But I groaned when he took me in his mouth again.

He started gagging, and I thought sure he’d quit, but he kept at it. Pretty soon he got the hang of it. He never did get more’n half of me in his mouth, but that was enough.

Suddenly, he raised his head to look at me. “It’s a two-way street, Charlie. After you come, you make me come.”

“f**k you!”

“I don’t think we ought to try that just yet.” He was joking, I think. “But you can just get me off with your hand. I want to see what that feels like with a guy.”

“Screw you!” But I was kind of glad that he put his head back down on me. It took another ten minutes before I got that special feeling across my belly right above my groin. I thought about warning him. f**k it. He wanted to see what it was like? So he’d see.

When the first contractions came, I grabbed his head and shoved it down on me. My c**k shot c*m into him, jumping and bucking in his mouth. He really gagged then, and I thought he was gonna heave all over me. But he got it under control and stayed with me until I quit grinding my hips against him. When I got completely still, he got up and wiped his mouth with an arm.

“How was it, Charlie?”

“Okay,” I muttered, resenting that it was more than just okay. It felt pretty damn good, but I wasn’t gonna let him know.

He laughed and stood beside the bed. His big c**k was red and ready. “Your turn,” he said, shoving his hips at me.

“No way,” I said, shaking my head.

He got this look in his eye, not mean looking exactly, but it let me know not too many people welched on this guy. I wasn’t afraid of him; I know how to take a beating. But I had a hassle on my hands if I didn’t do something for him, and I wasn’t up to wrestling right then.

“You said just with my hand.”

He sprawled out on the bed and I took hold of him like I was going to get this over in a hurry. He grabbed my wrist. I sighed and sat up facing him. Resting my right forearm on my knee, I jerked his big c**k. I got tired before he acted like anything was happening. His stomach muscles sorta pulled in, and he let out a wheeze before about a gallon of milky c*m spewed out all over everything. I thought he was gonna have a stroke before he worked through his orgasm. When it was over, I wiped my hand on his chest.

“Wow! That was something! Charlie, will you marry me?”

As pissed as I was, I had to laugh. “Good as all that?”

“If you had hair on your palm, it would be better than my ex-wife’s pussy.”

We both laughed, and I wasn’t all that mad at him. If what I did made him feel good, that was okay, but we lay there nekked with c*m drying on us and agreed f*****g a woman was better.