There was no response.
I knocked again, a little louder.
Again, nothing.
I wondered if perhaps he was out back, or maybe he was in the shower. That thought gave me an instant hard-on. The image of Harry in the shower popped straight into my head, water cascading over his thick, muscled body, matting the hair, soap bubbles sliding down what I could only imagine was the thickest, meatiest cock I’d ever set eyes on. The vision was vivid because I had conjured it up in my mind countless times while jerking off, gasping his name while I drenched myself in cum.
I looked down. “Oh crap!”
My hard-on wasn’t just raging. It wasseeping.
I was wearing a pair of tan-colored cargo shorts, and spreading from the head of my tentpole erection was a pre-cum stain that turned darker and wider by the second. That was one of the setbacks of being twenty-one years young and full of cum—keeping it in was often a difficult if not impossible task, especially when all I could picture was Harry…
In the shower…
Bubbles sliding down his…
“Fuck! Stop it, Dean!”
I was so focused on trying to push down the erection that threatened to volcanically erupt in my shorts that I didn’t even hear the truck pull up on the street behind me until—
“Dean? Hey there!”
I turned to see Harry calling to me from the open window of his pickup.
He stepped out, shut the door, and made his way toward me.
I quickly covered my cum-stained bulge with the marigolden-girls and smiled nervously.
He gave me a nervous smile back and I thought—fuck! He saw my erection before I could cover it in time. Now he thinks I’m a freak. Damn! Fuck!
I tried to distract myself and saw something wrapped in blue ribbon in one of his hands, and in the other—“Is that a toothbrush?”
“Ah, yeah,” he said, stepping up to me.
He was close.
Too close.
And yet… not nearly close enough.
“I knocked your toothbrush into the toilet, remember?” He was blushing. God, he was even hotter when he blushed. “I’m so fucking embarrassed about that. I hope you managed to get by this morning.”
“Oh sure. My dad had a spare toothbrush in his bathroom.” Jesus, did he think I would dare venture to his house without brushing my teeth? Not on your fucking life.
“Oh good. Well, here’s a new one, just for you. And I got you this as well.” He held up the other item and I immediately recognized the shape of the packaging under the blue ribbon. “It’s a bottle ofDean,” he said. “For Dean.” He laughed awkwardly.
“Oh geez, you didn’t have to do that.”
“Actually, it’s kinda from Madeline too. Sort of. It’s a long story.”
“Oh.” The mention of Madeline’s name broke whatever spell he was casting over me. “Well, I’ll have to thank her when I see her next.” I quickly changed the subject. “And these are yours.” I held up the flowers and the picture, practically shoving them in his face so he couldn’t see down to my crotch. Not that my hard-on was an issue any longer, it had started to wane as soon as Harry mentioned Madeline. But that pre-cum stain wasn’t going anywhere soon.
“Thanks,” he said as we clumsily tried to exchange gifts, the toothbrush and flowers almost falling and another bottle of cologne almost smashing on the ground.
To make matters even more clownish, the phone in my pocket buzzed with a text message… once… twice… three times.
“Sounds like someone wants you,” Harry remarked.
