Brian and Justin had decided not to leave until the next morning. They planned to drive to the southern edge of Vermont and then north, taking whatever roads seemed interesting or otherwise appealing, stopping only when "it felt right" to find semi-permanent lodging.
Brian had decided the night before that they should go completely incognito, in part, because it was fun, but mostly because he wasn't sure from where or whom the threat to Justin and Cleo, if real, would come. If Lindsay were in any way involved, he had no idea what resources of Mel's she could exploit. So he dug up his old fake id from college, a good fake, made sure that Justin had his, and hid their real ids and his credit cards and ATM card in a lock box (to bring with them) he happened to have. Inside, he also placed thirty-five thousand dollars in cash. He'd been able to withdraw ten grand the day before and that morning without the bank's needing to report it, and, long ago, he'd stashed fifteen grand in the loft for emergencies. They intended to spend the next four or five months in some small town, far from major cities, so Brian figured that the inhabitants of such a place, happy to receive any kind of tourism revenue, wouldn't ask too many questions if he paid for everything in cash.
Rather than taking the jeep, Brian had called in a favor from an old fuck buddy from college, the only person he'd fucked besides his gym teacher, Justin, and Lindsay whose name he knew, and probably the only person with whom he'd developed a friendship that Lindsay didn't know. After all, his fuck buddy pre-dated his "transitional period," when he was still questioning whether he was gay, during which he'd met Lindsay. Fortunately, they still spoke once in a blue moon, and Brian had, a few years ago, cosigned a loan for him when he opened a small gym. So he was happy to accompany Brian to a branch of a small rental car company located in a rural area in the outskirts of Pittsburgh, next to a Greyhound station, the largest bus terminal within a 50-mile radius.
Once there, Brian presented his fake id and told the agent that his friend had offered to let him use his credit card to pay for the rental, since he didn't have one. The agent, a young woman, sweet but plain and a little overweight, first informed Brian that company policy strictly forbade her from fulfilling his request, but soon relented (he'd told her that her name, Georgette, was beautiful in his sexy drawl and had raked his eyes hungrily over her body as though she were Justin. She had blushed a deep crimson and immediately did as he'd asked, never looking him in the eye after that).
Brian's former fuck buddy didn't ask any questions, well, except one: wanna fuck? To maintain friendly relations with the man without cheating on Justin, Brian had said that he'd love to, but he was still recovering from syphilis and had been instructed by his doctor to avoid sexual relations of any kind for forty-eight hours. Thus, by the end of the two-hour-long early morning errand, Brian had procured a rental car that no one could trace to him or Justin.
Brian then purchased himself a latte and Justin a very large cup of dark roast decaf and headed back to the loft. When he arrived, Justin and Cleo were waiting for him, the bags just inside the building door. Justin did a double take when he saw Brian pull up in a dark blue Ford Taurus, but then ran up to the car. The rental seemed so unlike Brian, so…mediocre, but nondescript was what they were going for. Justin was really enjoying the spy game thus far, particularly being Grant Dickens (the silly name Brian had chosen for his id, meaning "big dick"). Brian had long ago chosen Rex Connor for himself, as it roughly translated to "King Wolf," the biggest of all the big dogs. Justin jumped in, well, as much as someone who is nearly five months pregnant can and exclaimed, "Ooo! Thanks for the coffee, Brian!"
Brian, who had just finished placing their bags in the trunk, approached the front passenger door, opened it, and leaned in, chastising Justin, "That's Rex to you, Grant."
Justin giggled, but stopped when Brian brushed his lips against Justin's, temporarily depriving him of the ability to breathe. Then, as Brian buckled him up, he pressed his lips firmly against Justin's and thrust his tongue into Justin's mouth. Justin, who'd, unhappily, been awake for almost three hours without being fucked, sucked, rimmed, or fondled by his fiancé, immediately threw his arms around Brian's neck, pulling him closer and kissing him back eagerly, even desperately. After a few minutes of frantic kissing, Brian broke away, gently nudged Justin's nose, and then stood erect (in more ways than one). Huskily, he declared, "No fucking yet, Sunshine."
Then more evenly, "Not until we've been on the road a while. We have an eight- or nine-hour drive before we even reach the southern edge of Vermont," which was, ironically, near Shaftsbury.
Justin pouted for a couple of minutes, but was all smiles again when Brian slipped his hand into Justin's after starting the car and, with his one free hand, steering it into the right lane.
********
Justin's bladder was now filled to capacity. He'd put off asking Brian to stop because he was embarrassed. Running to the bathroom every ten minutes at the loft or Ryder was one thing, but, here, Justin felt as though he were on display. Brian would know exactly how much a freak of nature pregnancy had made him.
Justin rubbed his belly and sighed. His pregnancy constantly threatened to kill the romance in their relationship. He was so glad that the morning sickness was over. He felt ridiculous trying to drown out the sounds of his retching, but he couldn't bear the thought of Brian becoming less and less attracted to him. So, when the deceptively named morning sickness struck at night, Justin would hit the stereo's on button on the way to the bathroom. When it struck in the morning, he'd turn on the shower. Fortunately, the shower had great water pressure. That actually did a lot to dampen the sounds of his vomiting.
Justin tried to mask his other gastrointestinal difficulties in much the same way. Brian was probably starting to think that he'd knocked up a neo-hippie with the sheer amount and variety of incense Justin purchased at street fairs and boutiques (and now with his insistence that they take a tarot reading seriously). He'd told Brian that the incense was his attempt at relaxation through aromatherapy, and, in truth, that was a great side effect, but never Justin's primary motivation. Justin would have been happy to know that Brian had been so relieved that he was exploring different solutions to his very real stress problem that he never thought anything of it.
Justin sometimes wished he could be more laidback; he felt silly trying to pretend that he didn't have bodily functions. He was, after all, a man. Culturally speaking, men were "allowed" to be gross. And Justin and Brian both enjoyed some aspects of that grossness. Seeing the other sweaty and filthy was a turn on for both, both eagerly swallowed the other's cum, and both enjoyed rimming and being rimmed…but…Brian spent at least one-third of their shared showers washing Justin's ass. Was that foreplay? Or did Brian prefer to rim Justin when he was squeaky clean? Justin didn't know.
On top of that, Justin could never get a certain scene from Reality Bites out of his head, the one where Vickie, Janeane Garofalo's character, says that the romance is dead when you start leaving the bathroom door open. Romance and sexual attraction were tenuous; the smallest thing could end both, and without warning. Everyone had "deal breakers," and, often, people didn't know what they were until they saw their lover doing whatever it was for the first time. Plus…Justin's body was doing and experiencing a great many things Brian might never understand. Then again, even if he did understand, that might not prevent Brian from being permanently turned off by some pregnancy-related bodily function when it happened to Justin.
Finally, his need to urinate more urgent than it had ever been, he squeaked out, "Could we stop? I have to piss."
Brian turned to look at Justin. He hesitated for a moment, just staring at him, but then stated flatly, "We've only been on the road an hour."
Justin was already beyond humiliated, but he managed to feign a calm he didn't feel, replying lightly, "And your point is?"
Brian picked up his empty latte cup and tried to hand it to Justin.
Justin gaped at Brian. "You have got to be fucking kidding me."
Brian just smirked at him, continuing to hold the cup out.
Justin sat back in his seat and folded his arms. Then he snapped, "Next time you want your dick sucked, I'll be sure to direct you to the nearest crackwhore. After all, a mouth is a mouth. Just like a cup is a toilet…"
Brian chuckled. "Point taken, Sunshine."
He took the next exit.
A/N: All details about Hollidaysburg are real except for my description of the Sunoco station. It's there, but I imagined what it might be like.
Brian and Justin stopped in Hollidaysburg, Pennsylvania, so Justin could use the bathroom. They followed Rte. 22 to Penn Street, which seemed to be the largest other road, if not the main drag, since it doubled as Rte. 36, and turned right. They passed Mulberry Street and Strawberry Alley, which gave them both a chuckle, before turning left onto Allegheny Street, a one-way road that looked like the Hollidaysburg analog of "Main Street," because Justin spotted a Sunoco a block or two down.
As Brian pulled into the Sunoco, Justin fidgeted uncomfortably, and not just because he had to piss like a racehorse. He saw pickup trucks aplenty, plaid of all colors everywhere he looked, red, yellow, green, and blue, and caps of diverse kinds advertising other gas stations, auto parts stores, machine shops, and even towing companies. Most of the men had bearded faces, and the women, unstyled hair in pony tails. He rubbed his belly protectively. He'd never felt so out of place in all his life. He was beginning to like the cup idea. But when he spotted a shot gun leaning up against the outside wall next to the door, he decided he no longer had to piss. In fact, he decided that the next time he'd need to piss would be in Vermont.
Brian glanced over at Justin, but then turned to face him when he saw his ashen countenance and wide eyes.
He asked, "You okay?"
Justin didn't answer.
"Sunshine?"
Suddenly, Justin turned to look at Brian, replying absently, "Huh?"
Brian chuckled. Then he repeated, "You okay?"
"Uh…I just realized that it was a false alarm. I don't have to go after all."
Brian scanned the pumps and the store front. Finally seeing what Justin saw, as well as Justin's hands, now both rubbing his belly protectively, he said, "Wait here. I'll get the bathroom key."
The second Brian exited the car, Justin engaged the auto locks. He shook his head and chuckled. He returned with not only the bathroom key, which was attached to a large wooden block, a foot long and six inches wide, on which "Men's" was crudely inscribed, but also a large red, yellow, and blue windbreaker that proudly displayed Sunoco's logo on the back and on the top right, above a pocket. He unlocked and opened his door and then sat inside the car. He handed Justin both the key and the windbreaker.
Puzzled by the latter, Justin inquired, "What's this for?"
"It's a disguise, so you'll fit in with the locals. I doubt they'll appreciate your fishnet shirt as much as I do."
Justin relaxed, smiling brightly. "Indeed they won't."
He slipped it on. He and Cleo were both swimming in it. No one would realize that he was pregnant. Feeling much more comfortable now, he grabbed the key and headed over to the men's bathroom. His smile disappeared, however, when he saw the inside. There was urine everywhere. On the seat, which was half pulled off, the floor, and, strangely, even on the sink. Even if he couldn't see the yellow drops and pools, he would have known they were there by the smell. Likewise, pieces of toilet paper of varying length littered the floor. Justin was afraid to even expose his cock, let alone touch anything. He held his breath and stepped closer. He grimaced when he saw the inside of the toilet. Someone had forgotten to flush. He used the wooden block to push the handle down, trying to focus on the handle and not look inside the toilet.
He cried, "Son of a bitch" when he saw that a courtesy flush was necessary. He looked directly in front of him (meaning to hold his eyes there the entire time), freed his cock faster than he ever had before, and read the writing on the wall ("Brigette sucks everybody's cock," "For a good time, call Rhonda 555-2234," "Dave wuz here," …) and studied the crude pictures it held (of penises with various epitaphs, e.g., "suck it," and a wide assortment of breasts). Once he was done, he again used the wooden block to flush the toilet and then burst out like he'd seen mutilated bodies in there. He only started breathing again once he was safely back in the car.
Brian raised an eyebrow, but Justin just shook his head and stated, "Don't ask. You don't want to know. I just hope, for your sake, that you don't need to piss."
He replied, "Nope" and then went to return the key.
When he exited the minimart, he was carrying a paper bag. Justin frowned when he noticed that a few girls about Justin's age (dressed in jean miniskirts and crop tops, slathered in cheap makeup, and adorned with silver-hooped earrings and bracelets), a couple of plump middle-aged women (dressed in pastel long-sleeved cotton shirts and slacks), and one man (in a tight black T-shirt and jeans) were eying Brian hungrily.
However, Justin's jealousy was soon forgotten when Brian handed him the paper bag. He was delighted to discover that it held junk food (rice crispy treats, honey-roasted peanuts, a few caramello bars, two varieties of trail mix, ridged cheddar and sour cream potato chips, his favorite, and a bottle of caffeine-free Dr. Pepper), anti-bacterial liquid soap that didn't require water (Justin smiled at this and thought happily, "Brian thinks of everything!"), and a couple of brochures about Hollidaysburg.
Allegheny Street was a one way, so Brian turned right onto Union Street instead of continuing down. He stopped on the next corner (it had a stop sign) and was about continue going straight when he caught sight of the street sign. It read "Cherry Alley." That was too perfect for Brian to pass up, especially since, after Justin had "washed" his hands, Justin had been un-self-consciously munching on a caramello bar and licking the gooey caramel off of his fingers. So, much to Justin's surprise, Brian turned right into the narrow street. He drove past the backs of various brick buildings until the alley ended. On either side of the alley were two brick buildings and at its end was the Beaver Dam Branch of the Juniata River, itself a tributary of the Susquehanna, as Justin would later read in one of the brochures.
Brian parked the car and got out, at first, standing in front of the car (in the grass) looking out at the water. Justin followed. When Brian heard Justin approach, he pulled him in front of him and wrapped his arms around Justin's belly, even going so far as to take Justin's hands in his and run his fingers lightly over Justin's engagement ring, a three-banded wood/stone ring made of pyrite (royal blue stone), walnut (dark brown wood), and jade (bright green stone), and whisper in Justin's ear, "It's a shame there are no ducks here…I wonder how Brian duck and Justin duck are faring with Lindsay duck always nipping at their heels…"
Justin was a bit overcome with emotions (astonishment, love, and urgent need). He breathed, "They've probably managed to find a secret, out-of-the-way place, one not even Lindsay duck is aware of, to fuck in. In fact, I bet that's what they're doing now."
Brian nuzzled Justin's neck and whispered directly into his ear, so close that it tickled, "Is that what you want to be doing?"
Justin trembled. Then he stated huskily, "Always" and began to grind his ass against Brian's cock. Brian's cock had started to harden when the first caramel-covered finger had entered Justin's mouth, but now grew painfully erect. In turn, Brian started rubbing Justin's cock through the fabric of his jeans, all the while licking and sucking and nibbling on Justin's neck (at the pulse point) and earlobe. Justin moaned softly, "Brian, I…I need to feel you inside me…"
Brian quickly set about making that a reality. He first unzipped, unbuttoned, and pulled down his jeans and then did the same with Justin's. In one rapid movement, he sheathed his cock, slicked it with lube, and spun Justin around. Then in another, he sat down on the grass and pulled Justin down onto his lap, simultaneously shoving his cock all the way into Justin's ass and ravaging his lips, thrusting his tongue into Justin's mouth and exploring every inch with a hunger that literally took Justin's breath away. When Justin found his voice (after he'd miraculously started breathing again), he broke their kiss, threw back his head, and let out a deep body moan. Brian panted and grunted as he pulled Justin down onto his cock over and over again.
Justin's body was humming and thrumming with delicious energy as a result of Brian's cock rubbing up against his prostate.
This energy heated to boiling and evaporated, bubbling through him, when Brian flipped him onto his back and started pounding his ass mercilessly. By then, Brian had completely lost control. He muttered, incoherently, "Yes, oh, fuck, Justin, perfect" and fucked Justin faster and faster, but somehow managed to grab Justin's throbbing, leaking cock and stroke it a few times, until it erupted. Justin opened his eyes wide and shouted as his orgasm effervesced up and through him, simultaneously intense and light, a tickling so pleasurable that he'd nearly blacked out.
When Justin's ass clamped down onto Brian's cock, he thrust a couple more times and then growled a growl so guttural that Justin shivered and bit Justin's neck hard, so hard that Justin cried out. Brian sighed in contentment and buried his head in Justin's neck for a moment, relishing in his soft flushed skin and light musky scent before standing and then pulling Justin up. After they'd pulled up and fastened their jeans, Justin blushed and asked, "So…I wasn't too heavy for you?"
Brian just blinked.
A moment later, he replied, "Uh…no." A moment after that, he narrowed his eyes. "In fact, I take offense to that."
Justin's eyes widened. "What?"
Hotly, Brian inquired, "I have to have twenty or thirty pounds and several inches on you (in height)…so…since when did you think I was a weakling? Have you always thought that?"
Justin stammered, "No, Brian. I…I didn't mean to suggest…"
Brian nodded, but his eyes were dark with hurt and anger. Then he did an about face and stormed back to the driver's side door. Once he was no longer facing Justin, he smiled, thinking, "That ought to keep him from worrying inordinately about his weight…at least where sex is concerned."
Justin followed, but more slowly. A couple of minutes later, Brian asked brightly, or as brightly as Brian gets, "So do any of those brochures say whether Hollidaysburg was named after Doc Holliday?"
Justin smiled in relief. He was so worried that Brian was really angry with him. But if he had been, he was no more; Brian's little queen out couldn't have been that serious, or so Justin figured. He replied, "Umm…let me see."
After a few moments of skimming, he added, "Oh…no. It couldn't have been. It was founded fifty-six years before Doc Holliday was born."
Brian frowned.
Justin's eyes widened. He asked incredulously, "Are you actually disappointed?"
"Of course."
Justin just gaped at Brian.
Brian explained, in a soft voice, "I've admired him ever since I was a kid. He was classically educated in a time when very few were educated at all, even studying Latin, ancient Greek, and French, he was smooth, charming, well-mannered, and loyal, and he was a sharp dresser, an adept card dealer and gambler, a witty conversationalist, and a skilled gunfighter. He was all that even though he suffered from tuberculosis most of his adult life."
After an awed pause, when Justin had recovered, he declared brightly, "It may not have been named in honor of Doc Holliday, but Hollidaysburg was the main location for the manufacture of the Slinky. Apparently, when the 'inventor' of the Slinky abandoned his wife and six kids to join a cult in Bolivia, less than twenty years after he first introduced the toy, his wife took over as CEO, moving the operation to Hollidaysburg and launching the advertising campaign complete with the now-famous jingle…"
Suddenly, both Brian and Justin started singing,
"Slinky…
It's Slinky, it's Slinky, for fun it's a wonderful toy
It's Slinky, it's Slinky, it's fun for a girl and a boy."
Then they both exchanged a glance and burst out laughing.
*******
Like clockwork, Justin's bladder called his and Brian's journey to a halt two hours after they'd set out from Hollidaysburg. Unfortunately, they had passed Williamsport some time ago, and they were now driving through "the country" (on Rte 220), so commerce was sparse. Finally, ten minutes after Justin had alerted Brian to his uncomfortable situation, they saw a green sign that read
Hepburnville
Balls Mills
2 miles
They exchanged a look and repeated (simultaneously), "Balls Mills?"
However, their incredulity and amusement were quickly forgotten when they saw a blue sign that read
GAS
1 mile
with an icon representing Kwik Fill underneath.
Then they saw a blue sign that read
RESTAURANTS
1 mile
with a little square underneath displaying the words, "Jack and Sarah's Family Restaurant."
Brian grinned. He commented, "Looks like you have your pick of toilets to piss in" and took the exit.
Justin smiled back. He could relax a little now that he knew a bathroom was in his future, perhaps a clean, fully stocked bathroom with wallpaper and a framed picture of flowers or a country house opposite the mirror. Maybe they would even stay for a hot meal, a nice big country breakfast. Justin licked his lips as he imagined a plate full of homemade biscuits and sausage gravy with fluffy scrambled eggs and sausage patties and a big mug of steaming hot coffee (decaf, of course) on the side.
As it happened, Cleo was also excited about the prospect, or so Justin imagined later, for she fluttered at the thought. This caught Justin off guard. He grunted and automatically sent both hands to his abdomen and then started rubbing his belly.
Brian heard Justin's grunt and turned to look at the boy. He automatically sent his hand up to the back of Justin's neck and started rubbing the tension out of it. He asked, concern evident in his voice, "Are you and Cleo okay?"
Justin smiled softly and nodded. "She just moved suddenly. After so many hours without any action, she took me by surprise."
Brian chuckled and turned his eyes back to the road. However, he continued to rub Justin's neck for a minute or two, blissfully unaware that the Kwik Fill and Jack and Sarah's Family Restaurant were side by side and half a mile behind them.
Five minutes later, after driving by field upon field and seeing nothing but the occasional farm house or barn, Brian sighed. "Where the hell is this gas station? Is the 'country mile' the standard unit of measurement in Balls Mills?"
Justin repeated with a laugh, "Balls Mills" as his eyes met Brian's.
Despite his frustration, Brian grinned. Then, his eyes dancing, he asked cheekily, "You think Deb was born around here? She really mills my balls!"
Justin giggled. Then he protested, "Debbie's nice!"
Brian muttered, "To you, maybe…with me, she's a completely different person…constantly milling my balls…"
Justin erupted in a fit of giggles. In between giggles, he said gravely (or tried to say gravely), "If they open a Harbucks right next door, we might go out of business. They're really milling my balls."
At that he laughed so much and so hard that he nearly wet himself. He cried out, "Oh, oh, my bladder" and pressed on his groin.
Then he finished, still giggling, but less, "I may have to sell my son Tweek into slavery."
Brian deadpanned (imitating Stan from South Park), "Wow, that sucks, dude."
That had Justin laughing harder than ever. Brian looked on with amusement, a small smile playing on his lips.
When Justin finally managed to purge himself of the giggles, he happened to look out the window. He frowned and asked, "Where the hell are we?"
Brian sighed. "I have no fucking idea."
He was just about to do a U-turn when a tractor emerged from an adjacent field and nearly sideswiped them. Brian managed to veer out of the way, but, in so doing, he sent the car careening toward a fence on the other side of the road on the other side of which was a field containing a creek. Without even thinking Brian placed an arm protectively in front of Justin and then slammed on the brake. But it was too late. Within seconds of veering out of the tractor's path, the front part of the car was in the creek, the front wheels firmly ensconced in mud.
Once the car was rendered motionless, Brian unbuckled his seat belt and slid closer to Justin, looking him up and down and touching him everywhere. He asked breathlessly, "Are you and the baby okay?"
Justin, a little shaken up, couldn't speak at first, but managed to nod. Brian quickly unbuckled Justin's seat belt and pulled him into his arms, holding him tight. When Justin recovered from the shock, he realized how much of a wreck Brian was (Brian was trembling). He laughed and assured him, "Brian, it's okay. Cleo and I are fine. Perfect even."
Despite Justin's soothing words, Brian didn't move an inch. He just sat there holding Justin in his arms. He only moved away when he heard someone tap on the glass and ask, "You okay in there?"
Brian turned toward the voice, which came from a tall grizzled old man in overalls and a wide brimmed hat. He rolled down the window and replied, a little woodenly, "We're fine."
He regarded the man coldly.
"Can you pull out?"
Brian threw the car in reverse and hit the gas, but the car wouldn't budge.
The man took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. He offered, "I could pull you out, but I don't have a chain. I could go back for one, but it might be faster to call a tow truck."
Brian got out of the car and then helped Justin out of his side of the car (the car had entered the creek at an angle, so Justin's side was in deeper water). Once he was out of the car, Justin nudged Brian and mouthed, "Bathroom."
Brian nodded. "Is there anywhere with a public bathroom nearby? My, uh, friend has to piss and badly."
The man, who Brian had come to think of as "the farmer," gestured expansively. He replied, "There's a public bathroom everywhere."
Brian looked back at Justin, who was shaking his head and whispering, "No trees. I don't want other people to see Cleo."
The farmer heard Justin and asked, "What's a cleo?"
Brian struggled to think of a convincing lie. "Uh…"
Both Justin and the farmer stared at him expectantly.
Finally, after a long uncomfortable silence, the perfect answer came to him in a flash. He declared, "His remaining ball."
Justin's eyes widened. He shot Brian a puzzled look.
Brian patted Justin on the shoulder and explained, "Jay here (Justin narrowed his eyes) is a little embarrassed, which is why he doesn't want to piss out here in the open. A tragic business. Caught some friendly fire in the war."
The farmer raised an eyebrow. "In Desert Storm?"
Brian nodded solemnly. Justin looked at Brian with a horrified expression.
The farmer eyed Justin warily, finally concluding, "He looks a bit young."
Brian nodded slowly. "Yeah. It's a glandular problem. Can you believe he's 35?"
The farmer's eyes widened until they were the size of saucers.
Brian chuckled. "It's working for him now, but he didn't get any action till he was out of high school."
Justin protested, "Brian!"
"That right? Shame. So…how'd it, you know, happen?"
Justin colored. Icily he suggested, "Brian, since you like telling stories, why don't you oblige the man?"
Brian turned toward Justin, tilted his head, and smirked. "What can I say? It's in my blood."
Then he turned back to the farmer (with a less jovial look on his face) and began, "As I heard it told…"
The farmer interjected, "You weren't there?"
Brian shook his head. Then he drawled, "I'm a lover not a fighter."
Justin rolled his eyes, but the farmer chuckled. "You must be quite the ladies man."
Justin huffed a laugh. "Yeah, you should see him down at the Hooters back home. There isn't a stacked waitress he hasn't put it to."
The farmer nudged Brian and asked, amusement evident in his voice, "A boob man, are you?"
Brian stated coolly, "Actually, I consider myself more of an ass man. I like em rounded, but firm, a little on the plump side, you know, enough to squeeze, but not too big."
Justin bit back a grin.
But his eyes nearly popped out of his head when the farmer nodded, agreeing, "Yeah, well, you gotta have something to hold onto when she's driving the carriage…"
Justin had to turn away and cover his mouth to prevent himself from laughing, but Brian, as always, managed to control his expression. He simply nodded.
The farmer offered, "Why dontcha come to the house for lunch. The wife should be setting the table just now, and my place isn't far. You can tell me all about your friend's injury while we eat, and he can use my bathroom. I can pull your car out after."
Justin perked up at the mention of food. Brian looked over at Justin and, seeing his bright smile, replied, "Sure. Why not?"
When "the farmer," Brian, and Justin reached "the farmhouse," actually a large two-story house with a wraparound porch, an aluminum barn, and ten acres of mostly forested land, the farmer called out, "Mabel, set two more places. We have comp'ny." Then he turned to Brian and Justin and warned them, "Be sure and take your shoes off. Mabel will get herself all in a tizzy if we track up the place."
After introductions were made, the aforementioned Mabel, a short, plump middle-aged woman with granny glasses, showed Justin to the bathroom. Justin was thrilled. It was clean and smelled nice, and the toilet even had a soft, cushy seat. After Justin had relieved himself, he headed toward the kitchen/dining room, but was stopped by Mabel, who inquired softly, "You're in a family way, aren't ya?"
Justin was at a loss for words. He just stared at the woman, a look of terror on his face.
She gave his arm a gentle squeeze and laughed. "Don't fret. I recognize the glow as only someone who's carried a few could. That sure wouldn't be my Frank."
Justin relaxed. Then he asked, his voice low, "It doesn't bother you, you know, that I'm gay?"
Mabel huffed a laugh. "Love is love is love. And there ain't enough in this world. Not by a long shot."
Justin couldn't help but smile. Mabel reminded him so much of Debbie.
"So is the other young man the father?"
Justin looked toward the kitchen/dining room, where Brian was sitting with the farmer, deep in conversation, Justin couldn't even imagine about what, and smiled. Then he nodded.
Mabel actually giggled when she saw the way Justin was looking at his man. "You have it bad, don'tcha?"
Justin blushed a little and nodded.
Then more seriously, with a motherly concern that made Justin's heart ache, she said, "You seem awfully young. Much younger than him. Is he taking good care of you?"
Justin smiled brightly and nodded again. Then he laughed. "Sometimes to the point of driving me crazy."
"They're the best kind."
Suddenly, a buzzer sounded. "Oh that'll be the roast."
Justin's eyes widened. He was expecting sandwiches.
"My Frank is a strange'un. He likes to have his big meal at midday, and it's always got to be warm, even in summer. You run along now while I fetch it out of the oven."
Unconsciously, Justin licked his lips. He practically skipped over to the table. It looked like he was gonna get a big country supper, which was even better than a big country breakfast. He really hoped she'd made biscuits.
As Justin was delighted to discover, she had, along with a pork roast, real mashed potatoes (lumps and all) with homemade gravy, and a salad with carrots and tomatoes from her garden. He was in heaven. The farmer gaped at Justin the entire time he was eating, finally whispering to Brian, "That'un has a powerful appetite, don't he?"
Brian chuckled. Then without thinking, he said, "Well, he is eating for two…"
The farmer narrowed his eyes. He barked out, "What?"
Brian managed to smile and add nonchalantly, "I mean, it sure seems that way."
The farmer agreed, "Oh yeah," but he looked at Justin suspiciously. Brian decided that he'd have to keep an eye out for firearms and keep Justin close.
Justin spoke exactly five words during the meal. He said, "Thanks" when Mabel poured him a tall glass of milk and "Mabel, the food's delicious" after he'd helped himself to two servings of everything.
In response to the compliment, Mabel smiled, and the farmer replied jovially, "Thanks."
Justin looked at the man strangely, and Brian quirked an eyebrow.
The man explained, "I bought the food."
Justin furrowed his brow and looked over at Mabel. She didn't meet his eyes. Instead she got up to retrieve a homemade apple pie. When she returned, Justin's eyes lit up, and he forgot all about the farmer's chauvinistic remark. After Justin had had two slices of pie, Mabel excused herself to start washing the dishes. Justin was about to offer to dry, but he got distracted when the farmer asked, "So how did your friend's accident happen?" Justin was dying to hear the answer to that.
Brian didn't look uncomfortable at all. He didn't even hesitate. He drawled, "Just a few days after the war started, the 11th Air Defense Artillery Brigade launched two missiles at what they believed to be an Iraqi scud missile thanks to a computer glitch. Jay here (Justin rolled his eyes) was a reservist who had been deployed to Saudi Arabia. Both missiles exploded as soon as they reached a certain point in the air, what should have put them in very close proximity to the scud. Jay heard the explosion and hit the ground. Being young and inexperienced, unused to combat, he didn't realize that what he'd heard was a missile thousands of feet above him. Part of the missile fell to the ground, sending a nine-inch burning hot rod right at his ass (Justin covered his mouth to hide his bright smile and looked down so the farmer wouldn't see the laughter in his eyes). Jay was wearing light body armor, but, of course, that protects only the torso…"
The farmer's eyes widened. "Damn! That must have hurt!"
Brian patted Justin on the back and smirked. "He took all nine inches like a man. Did his mother proud."
Justin bit the inside of his cheek to stifle a giggle. He was continually amazed at Brian's ability to link everything to sex.
The farmer turned to Justin with a confused look on his face. "But why the hell did you name your remaining ball Cleo?"
Justin shook his head. "It wasn't me. After giving me a brain-melting blowjob (Brian arched an eyebrow, an amused expression on his face), my diva of a wife (Brian narrowed his eyes and frowned, silently vowing to make Justin pay, perhaps by starting to give him another brain-melting blowjob and then leaving him high and dry) idolizes Cleopatra and thought it was cute to name my remaining ball after her."
The farmer's eyes widened. "The Queen of Egypt?"
Both eyes wide, Justin nodded. "You know cause she started ruling Egypt with her husband, but eventually pushed him out and ruled alone."
"Ah…"
Brian smirked. In spin, Justin could give him a run for his money any day of the week. He was almost impressed enough to forgo retaliation. Almost.
The farmer looked at Justin with what he imagined was supposed to be fatherly concern and said, "Well, I wouldn't go around town telling people. They might think you're one of them faggy boys."
On second thought, Justin decided that that was exactly like the fatherly concern he was used to. He silently vowed to support his daughter in every conceivable way, even if she turned out to be a lesbian with a penchant for drawing vaginas. He'd fucking "ooo and ahh" like a proud papa should even if he was reeling from nausea. Brian, observing the barely veiled anger in his Sunshine's eyes, reached under the table and gave Justin's hand a squeeze (when the farmer wasn't looking, of course).
To Justin's delight, when the farmer went out to the barn to find his tow chain, Mabel presented him with a basket she had prepared, filled with leftovers (including the rest of the apple pie cause "Frank's belly don't need no more paddin"), a dozen chocolate chip cookies (just baked yesterday), and some homemade baby clothes and blankets, all pink and white.
When Justin saw the last item (or items), he exclaimed, "How did you know?"
Mabel smiled. "Just a guess. You're carrying high."
Brian frowned. He knew that the high-low theory was bullshit, as was the nurse's heart rate theory, but, still, he'd gotten caught up in Justin's excitement and certainty. He shook his head. He really believed they were having a girl, even though that belief was founded on nothing scientific, nothing proven. Brian couldn't help but wonder how he'd changed so much in just five months. Not only was he becoming a father, a full-time father, but he was engaged and making decisions based on old wives tales and tarot card readings. But however "pathetic" he may have become, he was happy, truly happy, for the first time in his life. He wouldn't change a damn thing. With that thought, Brian kissed Justin on the cheek.
Unexpectedly, they heard a horn sound. In an urgent tone, Mabel said, "Oh…Frank's getting antsy. You better skedaddle." She hugged both men, and both hugged her back, even Brian. He figured she deserved a little squeeze. After all, he probably wouldn't need to feed Justin again until they reached Vermont and Justin was grinning like a fool.
After the farmer had pulled Brian and Justin's rental car out of the creek and Brian had checked that he could start it up, Justin couldn't help but give the old man a show, crawling onto Brian's lap so that he was straddling him and kissing the hazel-eyed man passionately, with lots and lots of tongue. The farmer's red face and deep frown just made Justin's smile brighter. Course, Brian took off like a bat out of hell after that (just in case the old man had a shotgun handy).
A few hours after Brian and Justin had left the farmhouse, when they were minutes away from the Vermont border, Justin shouted, "Brian, pull over!"
Brian turned to look at Justin. Justin was sitting all the way back against his seat, his eyes wide and filled with terror, his body stiff as a board.
Brian's chest constricted. "What's wrong? Is the baby okay?"
"Cleo's fine for the moment, but who knows what'll happen if that thing gets any closer."
"What?"
"It's a fucking mutant fly!"
Brian just stared at Justin.
"What? It's got white and grey stripes, red, yes, red eyes, and it's like a fly on steroids! Seriously. It's as big as five flies put together."
Brian started laughing. In fact, he laughed for a full two minutes. Meanwhile, Justin was becoming angry, his face turning redder and redder. Finally, he sighed heavily and searched for something with which to kill the mutant bug, rummaging through things in the back seat while also trying to keep an eye on the bug, turning his head toward the back and then toward the front every few seconds. That elicited even more gales of laughter from the left side of the car.
Justin finally got his hands on an art magazine he'd brought to read during the car ride.
THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!
Unfortunately, the mutant fly evaded the rolled up magazine each time. This caused Brian additional mirth and Justin greater frustration. Brian was now laughing so hard that he was wiping tears from his eyes.
"Brian! It's not fucking funny! It could be carrying the plague! I mean, just look at it! It's a demon fly born in the hellfires!"
Brian grumbled, "Fucking Christ." Then he pulled to the side of the road (throwing the car in park), grabbed the rolled up magazine from Justin's hand, and squished the fly with one swing.
Justin scooted closer to Brian and further away from the mutant fly's corpse (it had fallen onto the right front corner of the seat). "Dispose of the body! Get it out of the car! It could have flesh-eating larvae in there!"
Brian rolled his eyes and sighed, but he climbed out of the car, walked over to the passenger's side, opened the door, and knocked the corpse to the ground with the magazine, before tossing the magazine in the back seat. Justin breathed a sigh of relief and moved back over a little. Brian leaned down and examined the fly's body (the part that wasn't squished).
"Whaddya know?"
"What? What? Is it flesh-eating larvae?"
"No. But it was actually a flesh fly. They don't carry the plague, but they do carry the bacteria that cause leprosy. And the larvae don't eat living flesh per se. Usually they feed on carrion, but they sometimes lay their eggs in open wounds and then eat the wounded flesh as well as the healthy flesh underneath."
Horrified, Justin exclaimed, "Oh God!" Brian stood up. "It must have been flying around dung in the field and drifted into the car when I had the door open."
Brian nudged the corpse with his foot. Then he concluded, "If it was a pregnant female, we'd see hatched larvae. It must have been a male. You don't have any open wounds." This was a statement, but Brian started running his hands all over Justin's arms, legs, hands, belly, chest, and neck anyway. After he finished his inspection, he continued, "And you haven't eaten anything since lunch with the farmer, so you couldn't have consumed anything he landed on. You'll be fine."
Justin let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Justin had been so worried about the fly that he hadn't noticed the bulge in Brian's pants growing or his eyes darkening with desire as he had slid his hands over Justin's body. But he couldn't miss the huskiness in Brian's voice as he pointed out, "But it was a real danger. Who knows what would have happened if I hadn't killed it…"
Justin moaned softly in response. In a similarly husky tone, he whispered, "My hero…you most definitely deserve a reward." He climbed out of the car and put on his best 'wayward innocent' face, opening his eyes wide and tensing his body. He asked softly, "Could you give me a ride, mister? I don't have any money, but I can do things, you know, like in trade." Then he glanced down at the bulge in Brian's pants and licked his lips. Brian actually shivered in response. He stepped closer (Justin tensed up even more, but didn't move) and caressed Justin's cheeks gently. Then he ran a couple of fingers gently over Justin's lips. Brian drawled, "You have beautiful lips."
Justin stammered, "I…I do?"
Brian whispered huskily, "Yes, beautiful." Then he leaned in and kissed Justin's lips, at first just pressing his lips against Justin's but then slowly pushing his tongue inside Justin's mouth. Justin moaned and opened his mouth slightly. When Brian slid his hands behind Justin's neck, tilted his head, and pushed his tongue deeper inside Justin's mouth, Justin moaned again and thrust his tongue inside Brian's mouth, meeting Brian's ardor with his own. After a couple minutes of passionate necking, Brian pulled back. They were both breathless, their hearts racing.
Brian whispered, "Your lips are even more beautiful this way, swollen and red."
Justin looked away and smiled shyly. But his eyes widened in shock when Brian leaned his cheek against Justin's and whispered, "You're very young…too young to be pregnant. You must like fucking. A lot. Do you even know who the father is?"
Justin trembled a bit and stated softly, "No."
Brian smiled and drawled, "Did you let the entire football team fuck you in high school?"
Justin pulled back, meeting Brian's probing gaze with a heated, challenging one, and whispered, "Only the gay players. But that was half the team. Not too surprising. After all, they shower together and tackle one another. That's a bit homoerotic. One afternoon, I let them all fuck me one after another, sucking dick the entire time. Some were so turned on watching me suck and be fucked that they pulled their dicks out and started jerking off as they awaited their turn."
Brian bit back a moan. "You're a cum whore, are you?"
Justin whispered huskily, "Yes. I love dick. I love being fucked by dick. I love sucking dick. And I'm good at it, too."
Brian couldn't stifle the moan inspired by that declaration. Justin's face broke out into a shit-eating grin. Brian pushed Justin to his knees (on the grass), quickly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, and pushed them down. Then he took his now painfully erect cock into his hands and pushed it against Justin's mouth, drawing the tip along Justin's lips, coating them in precum. Justin panted and then pulled back so that he could lick them, tasting Brian. He purred, "Your dick is so big…"
Brian chuckled and then whispered huskily, "Suck it. Suck my cock."
Justin whimpered and leaned down, drawing his tongue slowly along the underside of Brian's fully erect cock, lapped up the precum still leaking out of Brian's slit with a swirl of his tongue, and then sucked on the head, hard. That elicited a groan from Brian. Justin started to take Brian's cock into his mouth, but he paused halfway and looked up at Brian. Brian's mouth was open slightly and his eyes were half-lidded with desire. The sight caused Justin to moan (the vibrations from which drew a similar moan from Brian). He slid his hands up to Brian's ass and squeezed it as he drew the rest of Brian's cock into his mouth. Then he pulled Brian closer, pushing the tip of Brian's cock into his throat. When he swallowed around it, Brian moaned, "Fuck yeah." Justin bobbed his head fast as he sucked Brian's cock, while also letting his hands drift to Brian's balls. He traced circles all along their surface and then squeezed them gently. Brian started to pant and threaded his fingers into Justin's silky blond hair.
Brian half-moaned, half-said, "You really are one talented slut."
That caused Justin to moan, a moan that Brian echoed.
Brian panted as he declared, "I'm going to fuck your mouth. I'm going to fuck your warm, wet mouth so deep and so fast and shoot so much cum down your throat that you'll nearly choke."
Justin whimpered. Brian tightened his grip on Justin's hair (it hurt a little, though Justin didn't mind. At all. He loved it when Brian was a little rough) and then started fucking Justin's mouth. He shoved the tip of his cock into Justin's throat with each thrust until he was dizzy with pleasure. Justin's swirling his tongue along Brian's shaft while Brian fucked his mouth had Brian panting and moaning. In short order, Brian was shooting buckets down Justin's throat and Justin was gulping down Brian's cum eagerly.
Unbeknownst to Brian (at that point, Brian had thrown back his head and closed his eyes), Justin had slipped his pants down while Brian fucked his mouth and started jerking himself off. As soon as Justin pulled back, he stiffened and moaned loudly, shooting his load. Of course, by then, Brian saw what Justin was doing, and, in fact, he barely managed to step out of the way of Justin's fountain of cum as Justin's orgasm shuddered through him.
Afterward, Brian helped Justin to his feet and fastened Justin's pants and then his own. As he did so, he complained, "I wanted to suck you off."
Justin smiled. "But that would have shattered the fantasy. And, fuck! That fantasy got me sooo fucking hot!"
Brian smiled softly. "It was hot, wasn't it?"
"Fuck, yeah!"
A few minutes later, when they were crossing into Vermont, Justin asked, "How the hell did you know about flesh flies anyway?"
Brian chuckled. "You'd never believe it."
"Try me."
"I was kind of a science nerd in junior high and high school, although I'd outgrown bugs by high school and was mostly interested in chemistry."
Justin wrinkled his nose cutely. "Seriously?"
Brian just nodded. "I told you, you wouldn't believe it."
Justin giggled. "Crazy. You were even nerdier than me, and I was hella nerdy!"
Brian scoffed, "Hella? What are you, Cartman?"
Justin shrugged. "Cartman's cool."
Three and a half hours later, Justin eyes grew wide. He pointed to the right side of the road and cried out, Brian, look!"
Brian turned toward Justin. What he saw nearly took his breath away. He saw a huge lake flanked by two mountains. It was dusk, so the sky was burning with the red of sunset, and the mountains were as dark as night. The water, reflecting the sun's dying light, glowed red. He also saw some houses along the lake, dotting the shoreline, and a few short piers, boats tied to them with thick hemp ropes (as well as a few ducks swimming in the water). Brian could just imagine the creaking of the wood and the gentle waves lapping at the shore. Reverently, Brian breathed, "Where are we?"
Justin looked at the map. "Outside of Westmore." Then he paged through a travel guide for Vermont. After a few minutes of page flipping, he added, "The mountains are Mount Pisgah and Mount Hor, and the lake is Lake Willoughby."
"What the fuck kind of name is Pisgah?"
"That was the name of the mountain from which Moses supposedly saw the Promised Land for the first time."
Brian teased, "The Promised Land is in Vermont?"
Justin shook his head and laughed. "I highly doubt it."
"What's the other mountain called again?"
Justin smiled brightly. "Mount Hor."
Brian quirked an eyebrow. "Mount Whore?"
Justin giggled. "It's spelled H-O-R. In the Bible, it was a mountain on the northern border of the Promised Land. Oh also…Westmore has a population of just a few hundred, and summer's almost over, so the number of tourists should be pretty small. We couldn't ask for a more isolated place."
Brian smiled. "Sounds just about perfect."
Justin chirped enthusiastically, "I hope we can rent a house on the shore."
"If I have anything to say about it, we'll be able to."
Justin smiled even more brightly now. If Brian wanted something, Brian got it.