Jimmy feels Sven's hand roam between his legs. Tilting his head, Jimmy looks toward the other person in the back seat, a young man with thin hair and a delicate mustache. He knows the wind noise makes it impossible for anyone else to have heard, but he doesn't want Sven to say that out loud again. Sven shouts into Jimmy's ear: "I want to check you out." Roger looked at Jimmy expectantly and no one said anything for a beat. Jimmy asked this with such earnestness Roger laughed.
"Why can't we find girls to suck our dicks?" he asked. He felt the butterflies in his stomach, even as his dick swelled in his pants. When Roger returned, announced his plan, Jimmy was coy. Sven scrutinized Jimmy and Jimmy knew right then which way things were headed. After striking up a conversation, Roger pointed to Jimmy from across the wide corridor. Roger left Jimmy standing alone and raced off to greet these men. Jimmy had an idea how the afternoon might play itself out back in the mall. With the curls dancing on his head, Jimmy thinks Roger has the face of an angel. He brushes the hair back from his forehead, closes his eyes, and rests his head on the seat.
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The driver points to his ear and shakes his head. Although Roger is shouting, Jimmy can't make out a thing he says. Roger waves his slender hands in the air as he talks to the man driving. The other boys in Roger's crowd-an elite group of toughs-wouldn't even give Jimmy the time of day. Both boys are eighteen, but Roger is clearly dominant. Had Roger not dropped out of high school, he would have been in Carnal's senior class with Jimmy. The wind whips his soft brown hair about his head. With a gentle squeeze, Sven removes his hand from Jimmy's thigh. A quiver passes through his bony shoulders, down his strong sinewy arms. Jimmy keeps his eyes on the rolling fields passing by.
Sven isn't moving his hand, but he isn't removing it either.
#Tricked gay sex story skin#
Olive skin in sharp contrast to the ribbed white tank top stretched over his lean frame. Jimmy can feel his dick swelling unbidden in his jeans. With his hand still on Jimmy's thigh, Sven bends his head toward the ear of the man on his other side-the only way to be heard above the din of wind noise that fills the car. His blonde hair is cut short, like a Marine, and he speaks with a clipped accent that Jimmy can't place. He twists his lean frame, trying to protect his middle. Jimmy's body goes tense, but he tries his best to act natural. The man sitting next to Jimmy slips his hand onto Jimmy's thigh. Roger Bones sits up front, in the passenger seat. Jimmy Manley shares the cramped backseat of a Volkswagen with two men that he does not know.