hand around Billy’s wood and pumped up and down like he would his own cock. Billy gasped. Dave smiled. What was the use of having a dick in his hand if he didn’t intend to enjoy it?
“Smooth faster!” Billy croaked.
“Like this?” Oh man, now if only Billy returned the favor, because if Dave didn’t do something soon, he’d blow in his jeans.
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” Billy’s cock pulsed. And pulsed and pulsed.
Dave grabbed himself through his jeans with his other hand. Oh damn, oh damn, oh damn.
When his head stopped spinning it came to rest on Billy’s knee. Dave felt better than he had in a long, long time—except maybe for the wet jeans.
Billy smacked him playfully on the shoulder. “I think you got the hang of putting one on. Now practice taking it off without making a mess.”
It took the rest of the week, and their remaining rubbers, but Dave became a master in the art of applying and removing condoms. He also got pretty decent at hand jobs.
And good friend that Billy was, he practiced too.
“Davey? Billy’s here. Y’all boys play nice, I’ve gotta get on down to the grocery store for a few things.” Aunt Lisa nearly screamed, “I’ll be gone for two hours!” She swiveled a finger back and forth between the two of them, lower lip caught between her teeth. Oh no! Sex talk! “Do you boys need any…well… you know?”
“No!” Billy and Dave chorused.
“Well, if you’re sure.” After a little more lip biting, she took her leave. “Have fun!” Did she have to pour so much innuendo into “fun”? She didn’t know about the condom lessons, did she? Could she tell just by looking at Dave?
“Guess what I got?” Billy blurted the moment Aunt Lisa left.
Dave sat up from his sprawled position on his bed to peer into Billy’s backpack. “More condoms. So what?”
“They’re flavored.”
Oh hell. Dave snatched one up, ripped it open—he’d gotten so much better at that—took out the pinkish-red circle, and gave it a lick. Eww…
“Not like that. I think they taste better on.”
“What do you mean, you think? Aren’t you supposed to be Mr. Sophisticated-I-know-everything-there-is-to-know-about-sex?”
“You know how it is; some knowledge is best firsthand. Firsthand for you, rather.”
They rolled on their condoms in record time. Sometimes springing wood at a stiff breeze got on Dave’s nerves, other times, the ability came in handy. “Umm… Since you’re the one with experience, I think you should go first. You know, to show me how it’s done.” Dave waggled his brows.
One thing he loved about Billy: the guy didn’t argue much, not that he stood a chance with his mouth full. He pounced, taking the head of Dave’s cock between his lips. Oh dear, sweet heaven! Dave clenched his fists, fingernails digging into his palms. Billy’s mouth. On his cock!
Billy sank down further, coughed a bit, and came back up—only to go down again. Oh my God. That was, that was… Fucking fantastic! All the air seemed to vanish from the room. Dave gasped, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. Billy? I’m gonna… “
Instead of stopping, Billy sped up. A two-twenty current shot straight to Dave’s groin. Every muscle in his body seized, as pulse after pulse erupted into the condom.
“You okay?” Billy’s concerned face swam before Dave’s unfocused eyes.
Somehow all Dave’s bones had melted, and he’d probably never get the stupid grin off his face. “That was fucking awesome.”
“Really? Good! Your turn!”
They lay on Billy’s bed, catching their breath after another practice session. Half-full coffee cups sat on the nightstand, along with Billy’s “frequent buyer” card from the coffee shop. Three weeks after the first condom basket sighting, Dave had now developed favorite brands—the kind stocked by the coffee shop on Main Street—and they’d completed a list of fifteen different locations to score free rubbers. And the next time Dave’s mother sent spending money, he planned to splurge on some high dollar models with nubbly ends he’d seen at a local pharmacy.
“What kind of guy are you looking for?” Billy asked. “You know, to do the deed.”
Hmmm… Good question. “I dunno. Cute, I guess. Built.” Hey, if Dave was gonna dream, he should dream big, right? “Maybe a jock.”
“A jock? That’s a cliché, for sure.” Billy grew quiet for a few minutes. “Why a jock? Why not a geeky computer nerd?”
“Because geeky computer nerds all remind me of you.” Dave punched Billy in the arm to soften the blow of the words. Yeah, wouldn’t do to be hot and heavy with some