Homeboys by Shane Allison

Author:Shane Allison [Allison, Shane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cleis Press
Published: 2014-12-01T05:00:00+00:00

“I don’t want this crap!”

Brenda flung the envelope of pictures across the breakfast table. They landed on my pancakes.

“He said to give them to you.”

“You see? He’s already smooth-talked you, Steve. Next thing he’ll be asking you to wash his car for him. Just take his nasty pictures back to him and tell him to stop calling me.”

She ran upstairs to put on her McDonald’s uniform.

I kept Kirk’s photos in my backpack all day; they were like precious gems I had smuggled into my classes, and I fought the urge to take them out and handle them until, during my electrodynamics lecture, I excused myself, went to the nearest men’s room, locked myself in a stall, spit in my palm and jerked off, shooting a hot, gloppy load all over the dingy white hexagon tiles.

I had classes until two o’clock and a lab from three to five. Since I had to take the bus, I didn’t make it to Otis’s used car lot until after six o’clock. Kirk was in the garage in back with two other guys working on a Volvo. When he saw me he came over.

“She got real mad,” I said as I gave him back the envelope.

He looked inside the envelope and chuckled. He grinned and scratched his cheek. “Take a ride with me.”

“Where?”

“Come on. I’m off, but I ain’t ready to go home yet. Let’s book.”

We were in his car and zooming down the highway in no time. In his skintight jeans and a leather jacket, with a toothpick in his mouth, Kirk looked sexier than I’d ever seen him before. Chaka Khan sang “Sweet Thing” on the radio. I clicked my seat belt. A sticker on the glove compartment in front of me read: Only Grass, Cash or Ass Gets You a Ride in This Car.

“Lemme ask you something, Steve,” Kirk said. “How is it I put five pictures in that envelope but only got four back?

My back and armpits began to perspire. “Beats me.”

“But you said Brenda didn’t want ’em. If she didn’t want the pictures why would she keep one?”

“My sister’s crazy. You know.”

“She’s crazy, huh?”

I lowered my voice and tried to sound tough. “Look, man, I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“You seen them pictures, Steve?”

“No.”

“Bullshit! You looked at ’em. Tell the truth.”

He was driving ninety miles an hour. I held on to the door handle and pressed my foot flat to the floor, as if I was the one driving and could press the brake. As scared as I was, my dick was rock hard. The speed of the car and Kirk’s forceful attitude turned me on like crazy.

Within minutes we had reached a wooded area near the Missouri-Kansas border. Kirk parked the car and turned off the ignition but left the lights on.

“Why you gotta lie to me, Steve? I thought we was cool, man.”

“We are.”

“My uncle Otis said you really know how to suck dick.”

I quivered and looked out the passenger window into the dark woods.

Kirk took his photos out of his back pocket and lined them up on his dashboard.

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