Junkyard Dogs

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“…your father—bless his soul—kept a clean home and I won’t have it tarnished by some whore’s fatherless seed running around…” Janice screamed over the slam of the screen door as Jason stomped out of the house. 

Will awaited him on the front lawn, but wouldn’t meet Jason’s eyes when his friend looked at him. By an unspoken signal they walked away from the house.

Summer on the marsh made the air close and no amount of loosening his collar made Jason comfortable. Will had once joked that his own people were half-lizard and loved the heat more than anyone. The stoic cast of Will’s jaw despite the miserable heat brought the claim to mind.

“She doesn’t mean it,” Jason said suddenly.

“She does,” Will replied.

Neither of them said anything after that. Instead they made their way down to the junkyard. The two of them split their free time there: sorting scrap metal while learning odds and ends about repair from the owner, an unmarried mechanic. Billy wasn’t there on Wednesdays so they had the run of the yard. Even the dogs—Westerly and Belle—two intimidating pits, only barked and snarled until they recognized the boys and then came in for the ear-scratches they’d come to expect.

Jason pilfered beers from Billy’s fridge while Will “borrowed” the handheld radio. They met up in the husk of an old Ford whose driving days were behind her but still sported a relatively clean and intact interior. Will put on the Tigers game and the two of them cracked their beers. Even though the sun was setting, the day’s heat made their impromptu clubhouse almost stifling, so both young men shed their shirts and sipped their cheap beers while the announcer outlined the game.

“I’m sorry,” Jason said eventually, after too much time had passed in silence.

Will didn’t answer and he didn’t move, so Jason just stared forward and drank his beer. He was surprised then when he felt Will’s fingers on his cheek.

“You should shave,” Will said quietly, brushing the scruffy blond-brown wisps growing there.

Jason took Will’s fingers and kissed them, then pulled Will closer from the other side of the car.

“I am sorry,” Jason murmured into Will’s ear while reaching down into his lap to massage his groin through his jeans. Will breathed steadily as Jason fumbled with his zipper. Jason had navigated his friend’s silence before and knew when his apologies had been accepted.

Jason trailed kisses down Will’s sweaty chest, not minding his skin’s saltiness, until he found his prize. Will inhaled sharply when Jason started sucking him off.

Jason liked the earthy scent of sweat and arousal radiating from Will’s crotch. It made him eager to grope his own dick; he worked his zipper as Will slid in and out of his mouth. Jason’s easily triggered gag reflex meant that Will couldn’t fuck his throat like a porn star, but they easily found a rhythm that worked. Jason glanced up mid-blowjob to see Will staring at him, eyes lidded and dripping sweat.

Will started to come before he could warn Jason who ended up catching a couple of shots across the cheek and nose before he could angle it away. The two of them laughed, though Will’s laughter was punctuated by shallow, still-horny breaths.

It stayed like that all summer between them and Janice could do little to stop them.

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About the Author

My nom de plume is Benji Bright and I’m an erotica writer. I write the kind of smut that I like to read: hot, whimsical, occasionally thoughtful, and sometimes just plain silly. Outside of writing I’m a film buff, a music lover, and an RPG addict. Also I’m a real person: so feel free to contact me.

Photo by Johnny Murdoc

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