Part 85

Paul insisted on licking me from head to toe before blowing my lights out. It was cool with me 'cause it gave me an opportunity to just lay there soaking up his attention while thinking about what had happened earlier with Greg. Whoa! That was totally unexpected! And what did I think? I didn't quite know.

As I pondered the farthest corners of my mind, I felt Paul take my foot in his hands and lick between my toes. It tickled a bit and made me giggle -- taking some of the strain off my thoughts of Greg. What puzzled me the most was the way he'd vanished without saying a word. Did he feel guilty? I'd have to wait until morning before I had a chance to find out.

"I figure I could make a fucking fortune selling chocolate Daniels," Paul laughed. "Man, I can see all these dudes munching and licking away."

"Would the Daniels have boners?"

"Sure, they would! And balls, too -- filled with cream. Hmmm, the more I think about it, the more I think it's a way cool idea!"

"Think about it while you lick me -- I like the way your tongue feels."

"Hey! We could sell those, too! Y'know, like red tongues made of jelly that you can wrap around your boner."

"You're too fucking weird, Paul. Just keep licking." I folded my arms behind my head as Paul's wet tongue made long, warm strokes around my nipples and armpits. The sweet smell of his breath wafted over to my nostrils and mixed with the sexy aroma of his jet black hair which dangled boyishly over his forehead. How I loved to savor his wicked scent as it slowly intoxicated my brain.

"I wonder if they do this kinda stuff in pornos?"

"Probably not," he said, pausing between licks, "not enough action."

"Feels fucking awesome, though. Somebody should invent tongue-cam. Y'know, like a tiny camera mounted just behind the front teeth. Then you could see all the different places the tongue went." Paul was too busy to bother commenting, so I continued. "And you could have 'scratch-n-smell' cards that come with the video -- like one for sweat, one for cum, one for..."

"Piss!"

"Trust you to think of that, you fucking deviant."

"Don't you talk, Daniel, you love pissing on me. Admit it!"

"There's another idea! A talking toilet that says "thanks" every time you piss," I cracked.

"You wanna 69-er?"

"I've only just blown you."

"So? There's plenty more boy juice where that came from," he grinned, flashing his perfect, white teeth. Paul placed his knees either side of my chest and dangled his spicy jewels just above my face. A moment later, I felt his magic lips envelope my skin-splitting throbber. My groin was once again the center of my universe.

"Take your time, bud. I want this to last." I smoothed my flat hands over the curves of his flawless buns and buried my face in his hairless hangers. It was so fucking cool to feel them brushing lightly against my skin while his tongue and firm lips worked my boner. Then I felt his hand on my balls. "Make it last, dude," I whispered, before taking his hard cock into my mouth as his ball sack draped lazily across the bridge of my nose.

We sucked and licked like that for maybe twenty minutes, pausing only when we sensed the other guy was gonna shoot his load. By the time we were ready, we'd worked up enough jizz to sink a damn ship.

We offloaded within a second or two of each other. In the eerie stillness of the night air, our gagging and swallowing must've been heard for fucking blocks! And, considering that I'd blown Paul only a half hour or so beforehand, he jetted a way awesome load of his sweet, sticky juice down my throat. Fuck, it tasted excellent!

Paul was nowhere to be seen as I crawled from the tent some time after daybreak. I was hanging for a piss, big time. "Too bad, Paul. You're gonna miss this one." I walked a few paces away from the tent and flooded the grass with a powerful stream of yellow that bubbled and foamed before disappearing into the earth. After shaking the final few drops from my semi, I headed for the house and the kitchen.

"Hi, Daniel. I got up early and decided to make breakfast."

"Cool, thanks. Are the other guys still asleep?"

"I checked. They're gone." Paul pointed to the kitchen bench. "They left a note."

I grabbed the piece of paper and read it. "Hi, Daniel - I don't know what's bothering Greg but he woke me real early this morning and said he wanted us to go back to my house. He didn't say why. Anyway, give me a call after breakfast - not too early or you'll freak my folks. Lindy."

"Did you see them leave?"

"Nope. I came in here about 6:30 and they were gone already."

I looked at the wall clock. "10 after 7. I wonder what time Lindy's folks wake up?"

"Have breakfast first, man. It's nearly ready. Oh, shit!"

"What?"

"Have you pissed already?"

"Yeppers. And it was a big, long one, dude. A real long, hot and steamy one," I grinned, loving every minute of teasing the fuck outa my bud. "Hey, don't freak, dude. You can have the next one."

During breakfast of cereal, fruit juice, French toast, ham and eggs, Paul talked about what we might do that day, but said nothing about Greg's mysterious disappearance. "Aren't you curious about Greg?" I asked, finally.

"Sure. I didn't wanna say anything, though, 'cause it's none of my business." He filled his cute face with a mouthful of toast and egg to provide an excuse to say nothing further.

"Hey, dude. You and I are bestest buds, right? That means my business is your business, and vice versa. Anyway, it's gotta have something to do with his fucking me last night. Man, he was one fucking hot and horny mutha. He pumped my ass like a wild bull! I've been thinking about it and my guess is that he's got a major case of the guilts."

"Dammit, Daniel, I don't mean to sound like I'm putting you down or anything, but you've had more dicks up your funky ass than I've had..."

"Golden showers," I laughed. "Anyway, cocksucker, your ass ain't exactly a fucking virgin, either."

"So why would Greg be on some guilt trip?"

"That's what we're gonna find out."

After doing the dishes, Paul and I showered together. I managed a feeble squirt or two of piss but we had a cool time blowing each other and soaping each other up before we stepped out of the stall. "I gotta say, Daniel, one of the things I really love is towelling you. Your killer bod feels so damn rad through a soft, fluffy towel. Now gimme your foot so I can dry between your toes."

Paul loved my feet. Dammit, there wasn't an inch of my tanned bod that he didn't like! I had to admit that towelling Paul was horny, too, especially when I slid the towel between his firm buns and felt the perfectly rounded curve of each globe. That would be the signal for him to squat slightly so that I could dry his twitching rosebud. As for his feet, they were almost too neat and delicate to be male. There wasn't a single hair on any of his toes.

We'd only just returned to the kitchen when the phone rang. It was Lindy. "Hi, Daniel. Is Greg home yet?"

"Home? I thought he was at your house!"

"He was up until an hour ago. He said he was going for a walk. I thought he meant he was going home."

"Well, he's not here yet. Did he say anything? I mean, did you get some idea about why he was acting so strangely?"

"He clammed up totally. I've gotta feeling that it was my fault."

"How's that?"

"He wanted to have sex with me last night -- I mean, like full on, and I said no. He got pretty pissed with me and went out to talk to you in the tent."

"Yeah, we talked -- not all that much, though."

"Did he say he was mad at me?"

"Not exactly. He was pissed that you wouldn't let him fuck you -- sorry, Lindy, that kinda slipped out."

"No prob."

"But he wasn't blaming you or anything. He was just horny. You know what guys are like when they can't get their rocks off."

"Yeah. Tell me about it," she sighed. "Well, I hope he's OK. Lemme know when he turns up. OK?"

"Sure, Lindy. Thanks for calling. See ya."

I figured I'd check for email while we waited for my step bro to arrive home. But by the time I'd read and answered it all, it was mid morning and there was still no sign of Greg. I walked out to the pool where Paul was fooling around with my canine bud. It was a bright, sunny day and should've been a whole lotta fun, but my mind was clouded with thoughts of my bro.

"Greg's not back yet?"

"No." I sat on the edge of the pool and dangled my legs in the water as Paul swam over to me.

"Are you worried about him?"

"Yeah, dude, I am. I can't help thinking that he's wandering around somewhere with the guilts about fucking me. What if he doesn't come home? Mom and Andy are due back in two days. What am I gonna tell them?"

Paul heaved himself out of the water and sat beside me. "Where do you think he might be?" he said as he placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"Pick a place on the fucking planet, dude. How would I know? He was raised in Virginia. That's where his mom died before he and Andy came to live here in Tampa."

"Are you saying he might've gone back to Virginia? Where would he get the money?"

"I dunno. I just don't fucking know! You'd think the fucking asshole would call or something to let us know that he was OK."

"If he has the guilts like you say, there's no way he's gonna call."

"OK, let's try to figure this out. If you or I were Greg, where would we go?"

"Some place familiar, I guess."

"The apartment! Andy hasn't sold it yet! You stay here in case he calls. If he's there, I'll phone you."

In my haste to follow my hunch, I didn't bother with shoes, boxers or a t. I was wearing only baggies as I rode my BMX the short distance to Greg's apartment.

Before entering the foyer, though, I checked the outside of the building for open windows. One was open. It was Greg's bedroom. Yes! I dropped the bike in the drive, ran up the stairs and knocked on the door. I waited for what seemed like a long time but it was probably only a few seconds. I knocked again. "Greg, I know you're in there, bro. Answer the door!"

A woman from across the hall opened her door just a few inches. "They're not living there any more, son."

"I know, ma'm. I'm his step bro. But I think Greg's in there. Did you see him?"

"No, son. I don't pay no mind to what's none of my business. But I did hear a door open and close about half an hour ago."

"Thanks ma'm." I knocked again. "I know you're in there, Greg. Open up, dammit!"

"What's all this damn noise?" a male voice demanded behind me.

"Sorry, sir. It's a family matter, and its urgent. Sorry about the noise."

The man handed me a note pad and pen. "You could be banging on that door 'til Kingdom Come, son. Write a note and slip it under the door."

I scribbled a quick message and did like the man said. "Greg? I've put a note under the door. Read it and phone me! Just gimme a few minutes to get back home."

I was in the kitchen waiting by the phone when Paul came in, dripping water all over the fucking floor. But I was too preoccupied with my problem to give a fuck. "He wasn't there?"

"He's there alright. He just wouldn't answer, so I left a note under the door."

"What did it say?"

"I love you, Greg. Phone for fuck's sake."

"What if he doesn't? What if he reads your note, packs a bag and takes off? Then you won't know where the fuck he's gone."

I slapped my forehead. "Jesus! I should've stayed there! How the fuck could I have been so fucking stupid?" The words of anguish and defeat had hardly left my mouth when the phone rang.

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