Aroused (5 page)

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Authors: Sean Wolfe

BOOK: Aroused
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We fucked around a couple times a week for the rest of our time at school, and no one was the wiser. Loren eventually married, and he now has three kids and lives two blocks down the street from me. We are ... cordial to one another, and wave as neighbors do when his wife is present. Aside from that ...
Well, like I said ... I have a need for a little discretion and mystery in my life.
Up With People
“
Y
ou
are
kidding me, right?” I asked through a mouthful of Captain Crunch cereal.
“No, honey, I'm not,” mom said as she set a glass of orange juice next to my bowl. “The church is really in a bind, and, well, I just couldn't say no when they asked me. They committed to hosting six people from the group, and only a couple of congregation members stepped forward. They still need to find homes for two more singers besides the young man I agreed to take in.”
“Well, I don't care,” I sulked. “We don't have room here. What were you thinking? I know you're not planning on having him sleep on the sofa for a month.”
“No, I'm not. But you've got a big queen sized bed all to yourself and ...”
“Absolutely not. I'm not sharing my bed with a complete stranger. That's not fair, mom. You should have asked me first.”
“Well, you weren't here, and Pastor Bob had me cornered. I couldn't say no.”
“Yes, you could have,” I said. “You just didn't.”
“Come on, Jeremy. Think of it as an adventure. José is from Mexico. You can learn about a whole new culture. It'll be a good experience, if you just let it.”
“Oh, sure. I can see it now. Having some Third World visitor stay with us for a month. He probably doesn't even shower every day. Gross. And how are we supposed to talk with him?”
“Jeremy!” mom raised her voice as she sat next to me and poured herself a bowl of Grape Nuts. “Don't be rude. Of course he takes a shower every day. For crying out loud! And Pastor Bob has assured me that he speaks very good English. They all do.”
“But, Mom,” I whined. “It's my bed. I can't sleep with someone else in bed with me. It's just gross.”
“Well, then,” she said in that stern tone that I instantly recognized as meaning the conversation was now over and that she sincerely meant the next words that were to come from her mouth, “I guess if it's so gross to be a hospitable Christian and share your bed with a visitor, then
you
can sleep on the sofa for the next month. José can have the bed all to himself. I'm sure he wouldn't mind.”
I chewed my Captain Crunch as quietly as possible, and swallowed carefully. “I guess it'll be okay,” I mumbled, barely audibly.
Mom smiled. “Good. I knew you'd see it my way.” She wiped her lips and stood up to leave.
“Like I had a choice,” I muttered under my breath.
“Exactly,” mom said as she kissed me on the cheek. She had the ears of a Rotweiller. And the bite of one too. “He'll be here when you get home from work this afternoon, so be on your best behavior.”
“Whatever.” I stood up and grabbed my backpack and walked out the door, careful not to slam it.
 
Work totally sucked. But that was nothing new. It always did. I worked at a local burger joint owned by a sweet old man and his wife. I could've worked at the only McDonald's in town, but it was over three miles away and I didn't have a car. The Burger Barn was only half a mile from my house, and there was just the three of us working there. It never got busy enough to hire anyone else. Officially I was the cook. Mr. Barker was supposed to be the cashier and Mrs. Barker was supposed to be the hostess/waitress. But I inevitably became host, waiter, cashier, cook, and dishwasher. It never failed that the Barkers ended up sitting at the booths with the patrons, who all happened to be old friends of theirs, and I ended up doing everything. But it didn't bother me. They were really very nice to me, and it was fun watching them gossip with their gaggle of old geezers who came in every day. For my eighteenth birthday a couple of months earlier, the Barkers made me the “Manager” of the joint. I got a fifteen cent per-hour raise and a new badge proclaiming my fancy new title. Woo hoo!
I couldn't stop thinking about José the entire time I was at work. Why the fuck did mom have to go and volunteer us to host some stranger for a whole month? A stranger from another country, no less. It had been hard enough living with mom since she and dad had divorced the previous year. She'd been very clingy lately, and it was almost impossible to find any time alone. And now she'd insist on me hanging around José as much as possible and showing him around.
Not like there were a million things to do in Perryton. It wouldn't take all that long to show him the “sites” around town. But I really valued my alone time. For the last couple of years I'd been struggling about some strong feelings for a few guys at school, and I spent hours alone in my room beating off to fantasies about them. I'd never been with another guy, and in fact avoided the showers after gym class as much as possible. I'd only seen a couple of naked cocks, and only at a quick glance. So my beating off fantasies were all I had. Now all of that was gonna change. I'd be sharing my room with a complete stranger from a stupid foreign country who probably barely spoke English. I'd spend most of my time flipping through the damned English – Spanish dictionary trying to explain what Hamburger Helper was and why José should eat it and not make a necklace out of it. And I'd have absolutely no privacy. Fuckin' great.
I took my time cleaning up after my shift, making sure every dish was washed, every floor swept and mopped, every counter and booth wiped down. The Barkers had left half an hour earlier, so I had the place to myself. I was just about to shut the blinds and beat off on one of the red vinyl booth seats, when the phone rang.
It was mom, wondering where I was. Dinner was waiting. Which really meant that José was waiting. I pinched the head of my dick to make my hard-on go away, grumbled, and headed home.
 
“Hi, honey,” mom said in that sweet falsetto voice that dripped of June Cleaver. “You're late getting home this evening.” She was speaking much more slowly and enunciating more clearly than usual, and was almost screaming, even though I was less than ten feet from her. “You must have been really busy at the diner tonight.”
“Not really,” I said with no enthusiasm. She knew we never had more than three or four customers at a time, and even with that mad rush, the old geezers only ever ordered coffee and a cinnamon roll. Every once in awhile a kid from school or a stranger passing through town would stop in and order a burger and fries. But that was the rare adventure at Burger Barn.
“Honey, I want you to meet José,” she said as she grabbed the arm of the guy shutting the fridge door.
I set my backpack on the table and looked up. All day I'd been brooding about having to share my room with this guy, so I'd definitely built up an image in my mind about what he looked like. I was sure he'd be short and probably a little fat. He'd have bucked up teeth and acne all over his face. His hair would be buzz cut and greasy. And he'd struggle to get out a simple “hello.”
I couldn't have been more wrong.
“Hey,” José said, and stuck his hand out to shake mine as he popped a grape into his mouth. “How are you?”
His grip was strong and firm, yet his skin was softer than it had a right to be. I looked into his face and struggled to catch my breath. José was quite possibly the most beautiful guy I'd ever seen. He had shoulder-length, wavy black hair. His skin was smooth and perfectly copper colored. His eyes were hazel and almond-shaped, framed with thick, long, and curly eyelashes. When he smiled, dimples appeared from nowhere on either side of his lips, and his milk-white teeth sparkled.
He was a couple of inches taller than me, about six feet. Even fully clothed I could tell he was solidly built. His chest stretched the cotton fabric of his t-shirt and I could count the lines of his six-pack. His biceps popped out of the short sleeves and showed off thick, prominent veins. His legs filled out his jeans, and even though I only “accidentally” glanced at it, the bulge at his crotch couldn't be ignored.
I tried to speak as he tightened his grip on my hand, but found myself mute.
“This is my son, Jeremy,” mom said loudly and slowly as she stared at me. “He has quite a wide vocabulary, really, and usually isn't this rude.”
“I'm sorry,” I stuttered. I released my grip on José's hand, and wiped my own sweat onto my dirty jeans. “I'm Jeremy,” I said stupidly.
“It's great to meet you, Jeremy,” José said with only the slightest trace of the sexiest accent I'd ever heard. “Thanks for letting me stay with you. I hope it won't be too much of an inconvenience.”
“Not at all,” I gushed out just a tad too quickly. “I mean, don't worry about it. I'm glad to help out.”
Mom smiled and patted me on the back as she kissed my cheek. “Well, dinner is about ready. Wash up and sit down.”
I did my best not to act completely stupid during dinner, but failed miserably. Hey, I admit it, I was all but catatonic. I couldn't stop staring at José. And the hard-on I got the moment José touched my hand didn't go away all throughout dinner.
“José, your English is superb,” mom said as she kicked me under the table and gave me her patented evil eye, which this time I cannily interpreted as saying, “
where the hell are your manners, and you'd better start chatting mighty damned quickly
.”
“Yeah, it's really good,” I said through a mouthful of soggy Spanish rice. Mom was trying to impress José with her Mexican cooking. I was praying we wouldn't be rushing him to the emergency room before we reached dessert. “Where'd you learn to speak English so well?”
“Oh, it's nothing. My mom is American, but has lived in Mexico since she met and married my dad twenty years ago. We speak both languages in my house. My dad actually does a lot of business here in the States, so we make a habit of speaking English quite a bit.”
“Wow,” mom said as she spooned another scoop of mushy chicken enchilada casserole onto José's plate. “That's very interesting, isn't it, Jeremy?”
“Yeah,” I said as I struggled not to imagine José's naked body sitting across from me. “I wish I could speak two languages.”
“It comes in handy. Especially when I'm planning on spending the next six months traveling through the States.”
The rest of the dinner went fairly smoothly. José was a sport and ate every bite of the nasty food mom kept heaping onto his plate. When we were finished, mom insisted on doing the dishes (something she is usually adamant about
me
doing) and ushered José and me upstairs where I could help him unpack and get settled in.
After clearing a couple of drawers in my dresser and making room for Jose's clothes in the closet, I excused myself to take a shower while he unpacked. There was no door to the bathroom that connected to my bedroom, and the shower had a glass sliding door, so I was perfectly visible to José as I showered, and very much aware of the fact. As much as I wanted to, I didn't dare beat off in the shower. Instead, I turned and faced the wall, with my back to the glass door and showered as quickly as possible and with the coldest water I could stand. I just couldn't go back out there with a hard-on. When I finished, I wrapped myself snugly into my bathrobe and walked into the bedroom.
“Thanks again for sharing your room with me,” José said with the sexiest smile I'd ever seen. I felt my cock stir just from looking at it. “Do you mind if I shower before I go to bed?”
“Not at all,” I blurted out even before he'd finished the question. “There are extra towels in the cabinet above the toilet.”
“Thanks,” he said, and began to undress.
I turned away and quickly slid my briefs on under my robe, then dropped the robe to the floor and slipped under the covers and pulled them tightly around my chin. I heard José walk away, and a moment later the shower started. When I heard the sliding shower door shut, I rolled onto my back and stared into the bathroom. The glass was opaque, so I couldn't make out every detail, but I could see enough to spring a boner in just a couple of seconds. I watched as José lathered his entire body. When he raised his hands to wash his hair, I made out the dark of his underarm hair, and his muscles flexed in a way that made me moan. Then he reached down and soaped his cock, pulling up his balls and carefully washing under them. I swear I could see his dick grow a couple inches as he lathered it for several seconds. I felt my cock throb, and a small drop of precum leaked out of the head. “Shit,” I mumbled, and turned around quickly as I heard the shower stop.
I forced myself to breathe slowly and deeply, pretending to be asleep as José pulled down the covers and clicked off the lamp. He climbed into bed carefully and rolled onto his side so that his back faced me. Even though I was under the top sheet, a blanket, and a comforter, I found myself shivering. And even though I was shivering, I swore I could feel the heat from José's body, despite the fact that he was at least a couple of feet and several layers of blankets from me.
I bit down hard enough on my tongue to bring tears to my eyes. It was the only way I could think of to make my hard-on go away. Even with that, it only went halfway soft.

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