The Jerk-Off
by Jack Lynch
Chapter 18
C.O.
Ty hadn't done anything so normal in such a long time, he'd almost forgotten what it was like.
When he was in high school, he actually made the varsity basketball team. Even though his height was modest compared to his towering teammates, he still had some moves. At 5'9" he wasn't going to be able to shoot over a lot of guys, so he developed a patented move to feint one way, then go the other way, spin around and release long jump shots from the three-point arc.
When Blong told him he was going over to a nearby park to watch some basketball, Ty asked if he could tag along. There wasn't much going on at the club this time of day anyway, so Zoov just shrugged when he asked him if he could leave for awhile.
Zoov was preoccupied at the moment, anyway. Recent events were casting a long shadow over his plans. The Outfit was making him nervous, even more nervous than before. Calls to his contact, other calls to Mingo, were going unanswered. Dickie Lee's phone was going right to voicemail. If he didn't come through for them, there was no telling what they might do. As he pondered what his next move might be, Kim sat down on a stool next to him. As usual, she was mostly naked.
"Honey," she purred into his ear, her arm around his shoulder, "Wanna tickle me? I'd love to get tickled."
He turned and smiled at her. His favorite diversion, or perversion, rather.
When they got to the court, there was a pretty heavy duty scrimmage going on. Mostly very tall guys, Q-tips, just one guy who was even close to Ty's size. They watched for awhile until one of the brothers spied him sitting on a bench next to the sideline.
"Brae!" He yelled, "You're up!"
Ty chuckled before tentatively getting up and taking another player's place on the point. It didn't take long before he found his legs, a short time later, swishing a shot from at least twenty-five feet, eliciting jeers and cheers. On the ensuing play, one of the power forwards, a strong looking guy with blond hair broke through the defender, charging the net. He practically mowed Ty down before he could set a block, flying through the air to make a spectacular dunk.
"You okay?"
That was the next thing he heard when he opened his eyes. Ty thought he'd gotten knocked clear out. It was probably just a millisecond. But, when he looked up, an incredibly good-looking guy was looking back down at him, a concerned expression on his face. Their eyes locked and, for another second, he wasn't okay. Those crystal blue eyes, straight cut eyebrows, blond bangs smashed against his forehead, damp with sweat. Flushed pink skin, thin lips, a square jaw.
"Yeah," Ty gasped and chuckled at the same time.
The guy grabbed his hand with such force that he was lifted off the ground as he was brought to his feet. Ty got two free throws out of the play, both of which he made. The scrimmage continued for a few more minutes before a couple of guys announced they had to leave. From there, play devolved into some bounce passing and two-on-two's, Blong eventually joining in.
"C.O," he announced, sticking his hand out to shake Ty's.
"Tyrone," he replied, then immediately blushing. "I mean, Ty." Why did he introduce himself with his full name? That's so "ignant" he admonished himself.
"I like those braids, man," C.O. said, referring to Ty's hair. "Wish I could do those."
Ty chuckled, actually more of a high giggle, as he covered his mouth with the back of his hand. For some unknown reason, he suddenly became aware of his dick brushing the side of his upper thigh.
"I could probably do that for you," he responded with a broad smile.
They both laughed.
The two boys continued jawing back and forth. Most of the other players had left when Blong sauntered up to them.
"I'm going back."
C.O. looked at Ty.
"Wanna go somewhere?"
"Yass," Ty drawled out. He looked at Blong, sending a silent message.
"Okay. Guess I'll see you guys later."
After picking up a couple of energy drinks from Ethel over at The Bar and Gas, C.O. and Ty headed south along the lake shore, stopping at a wide spot in the road. A worn sandy path led to an old rickety dock. They both pulled their shoes and socks off, sitting next to each other, cooling their feet in the lake.
Back and forth, they shared their personal histories which were, metaphorically, like black and white. C.O.'s upbringing was almost like a fairy tale, at least in Tyrone's eyes. Ty's background was more like a horror show. He spared nothing, including his recent gang affiliation. If they ever found him, he'd be in a world of hurt, more like dead. In more abstract terms, he described Zoov's, a private club that allowed some "activities," the only word he could think of, on the spot, to substitute for fucking.
By now, the soft breeze had mostly dried their sweaty tops. C.O. was actually wearing two shirts, a sleeveless jersey over a gray t-shirt. Ty wore what had become a kind of working uniform, a patterned wife beater tight enough to display the definition of his chest, armholes deep enough to reveal his body from his armpits deep down his sides. With his fingers, C.O. brushed his bangs, loosening them from his forehead since they'd been matted down with dried sweat.
They looked at each other silently, each one unable to verbalize what he might be thinking.
C.O.'s heart beat rapidly. Where is this going? Where is this going, he asked himself?
Ty's mouth dropped open, a questioning look on his own face. No fuckin' way man, no fuckin' way, then a maybe. He wanted badly to just reach up and touch the bangs on C.O.'s forehead, maybe run his hand along the side of his face.
C.O. was the first to break the stare. "I guess we should be going."
A few minutes later, they were sitting in C.O.'s car at the head of the road leading to Zoov's. About a half mile away, the nondescript house practically looked deserted.
"So that's it, huh?"
"Yeah," Ty replied in a low voice.
"You gotta be eighteen to get in?"
"Twenty-one, technically, I guess. They serve booze."
He looked at C.O.
"Don't even think of it, bro."
"Why not?" C.O. chuckled.
"A guy like you? You'd get mauled by all those pervs."
C.O. smirked. "I dunno, what if I like it?"
Ty, a surprise look on his face, stared at C.O., then down at his smooth pink thighs, wondering what it might feel like to run his hand up and down his leg. He shook his head.
"Nah. You can do better."
"We have a slight complication."
"What's that?"
During a pause in the steady flow of customers in and out of The Bar, Ethel retreated to the storeroom and made the call. In a few words, she informed him of Louie Lee's demise. She'd overheard one of their steady-eddies whispering the news to his drinking partner a few minutes ago. Since then, she'd heard other people using Louie Lee's name in the past tense.
"How?" The voice on the other end of the line wanted to know.
Rumors and gossip were rampant. She told him as much as she knew.
"I gotta go," he replied and hung up. Ethel shook her head. What a jerk! Didn't bother to say, thanks for the information, or even, goodbye.
Thayer was digging a couple of Shasta Colas out of the cooler when she returned to the counter. He looked flushed and sweaty.
"Gettin' worked?" She asked.
He took a long gulp out of one and smacked his lips as he threw some coins on the counter. "It's crazy out there!"
Before she could respond, Rome came in.
"I'll have one too, Ethel."
She dug another can out of the cooler.
"Put it on my tab," he said.
"Rome," Ethel replied sternly. "You better plan on settling up on pay day!"
"Ah yeah, sure!" He replied, taking a long swallow himself, quickly exiting the building as some more customers walked in.
Back outside, Thayer trudged halfway down the hill toward the lake, stopping at one of the weathered picnic tables to hand Cutie the other soda. She was sitting on the table, her feet on the bench. Hopping down, she grabbed a tissue out of her small handbag, using it to dab the sweat off of Thayer's forehead. At first, he pulled away from her touch, then letting her go ahead.
Up close, Cutie smelled sweet, even her breath—almost like cotton candy. After she dried the sweat on his brow, she went right for Thayer's bangs, arranging them carefully across his forehead, moving further around to the side.
"There, there," she murmured. I could do this all day long, she thought. That dark hair is so…
Out of the corner of his eye, Thayer spied Rome watching them as he sipped his soda, a frown on his face.
"God damn it, Romey! Get over here!" Ten Ethyl yelled from just outside the boathouse.
"Coming, coming!" He responded, immediately making a break toward the shore.
Thayer tried not to look into her eyes. He couldn't help it, though. They were so blue, he felt kind of like he was floating in a blue lagoon. This can't be happening, he thought. She's only thirteen and, besides that, I'm… he couldn't even say the word in his head, let alone out loud.
"Isn't that better?" Cutie purred. She kept one hand along the side of Thayer's head, the other coming to rest against his chest.
Without thinking, Thayer's arms wound loosely around her waist.
"Yeah, I guess," he murmured softly.
"Has anyone ever told you how luscious your eyebrows are?"
Thayer giggled. "Well, yeah." He paused. His mind went back to the previous night, laying in C.O.'s arms.
"Wanna hang out later? Maybe come over to the island." The idea of it was suddenly making her feel as if she was melting. Her eyes half closed, lips moving in Thayer's direction.
"Maybe, maybe," he responded, himself almost in a trance. He pulled away. "I gotta get back to work, though. Message ya later."
With a smile, he turned and trotted away toward the docks.
Cutie watched him go, her eyes glued to his cute butt. She let out a soft groan.
Deputy Blaisdell did a U-turn in the street, preparing to give chase after the Jaguar, already more than a block away and disappearing quickly. He stopped in front of Porter who was still standing around the corner from the Iron Range Eatery. They both watched Linnie Lee walk out of the restaurant, cross the street, and jump into her own car. She headed in the opposite direction, both deputies watching her go. A moment later, Shamus came barreling out of the restaurant.
"What do ya wanna do, Inspector?"
Shamus gave him a hard stare first, then looked in the distance. "Loose tail."
Blaisdell quickly jumped back into his squad car and roared off after the black sedan.
"What the hell is going on out here?" Deck asked. The two men had just exited The Croft Bar & Grill, a half block away and around the opposite corner from the Iron Range Eatery. They both witnessed the squad car speeding off in a cloud of dust. Another one was parked on the corner and Sheriff Concannon's vehicle with Deputy Troftgruben driving, was just pulling up.
When Deck turned to The Ghost to get his opinion, he was nowhere to be found—just gone. As if he'd evaporated into thin air.
Their conversation had ended badly. Deck was, of course, indignant. The Ghost wasn't surprised at his reaction.
"Let's revisit the situation when you're more open to the idea," he concluded. What he meant by that was after the pain meter was cranked up another turn, he'd be more willing to take the medicine. Staring hard at him, he added, "Soon."
"I dunno, Dino. We didn't see nuttin' until the cops showed up." Tony was trying hard to dig himself out of hot water. Not only did he not get Linnie Lee to sign the sales agreement, he never even found Dickie Lee. And on top of that, he might have gotten made by that undercover cop who came into the cafe.
Dino spoke quietly into the phone. This was bad news. He always spoke this way when he was particularly furious.
"You get Dickie Lee's papers to our guy, then get your ass out of there. Capeesh?" He asked through gritted teeth.
After Concannon got a briefing from Deputy Porter, he turned to Shamus to get his take on what happened.
"I suspected the Mob might be one of a bunch involved in all of this. Once we ID that guy, we'll know for sure," Shamus said quietly.
"One of a bunch?" Concannon asked in an alarmed voice.
"Yes. I think a developer from the Cities might be a party, too."
"Jesus!" Concannon exclaimed shaking his head. Just then, he noticed Deck standing on the opposite side of the street. "Wonder what he's doing here."
They all looked at Deck who was now beginning to head toward his Navigator.
"Excuse me, fellas. I'm afraid I have to make a notification. Troftgruben, you fill Agent Bueller in on what we just found out." Concannon raised his hand. "Hey, Deck! Wait up!"
They watched the Sheriff as he nodded solemnly at Deck, his thumbs hooked into his gun belt. When he broke the news about Louie Lee, Deck stepped back, palms held against his cheeks, then covering his eyes. His shoulders shook as he wept. Concannon put his arm around his shoulders to console him.
After a couple of minutes, Deck composed himself. Wiping his eyes, he got into his vehicle and pulled away, making a left onto Main Street right in front of them. He seemed oblivious to the fact that they were even standing there.
Concannon grimaced as he returned to the corner where Shamus and Porter were standing. "That's one part of this job I absolutely hate. Gary, what's going on with Everett and that tail?"
After receiving Blaisdell's report over the radio, Concannon groaned. "Are you shittin' me, Everett?"
He looked at Shamus who, at the moment, was shaking his head in disappointment.
What's it gonna take, Ozzie asked himself?
Rather than releasing his pent-up sexual urges earlier in the day with his performance for the staff, the experience had gotten him even more juiced.
Another Chaturbate performance, this one with that wooden schlong half-way up his butt, got a tepid response. Only thirty-five bucks and he didn't even cum.
Brock and his dad were over in Nisswa playing in a father-son golf tournament at Grand View Lodge, so he wasn't available. Even offering to go down on him, something Ozzie rarely did for another guy, didn't seem to be enough to entice The Brockster away from his golf game.
A voice mail remained unanswered on his phone from Edgar. Ozzie listened to it one more time, deciding on the spur of the moment to call him back.
"Hello?" he answered in a gravelly voice, sounding as if he'd been napping.
Edgar chuckled when Ozzie told him he was available for a little visit.
"Aww, gee. Mavis isn't here though."
"So? We don't need her, do we?"
"I don't know, Ozzie. Mavis is playing Mahjong over at the church. And, I sort of promised," he replied. He briefly outlined the rules she had put in place involving play time with other guys.
Then, there was that delivery boy from Morey's—Elliott. Ozzie smiled, recounting what a great lay that guy was. Kind of sweet, too. He didn't suck him off but he did enjoy licking his tool and lightly mouthing the head of his tasty cock. He never did get his digits, so he called Morey's, only to find out Elliott didn't work there anymore. He'd quit yesterday and they weren't allowed to give out his information.
Maddie? No. Pussy wasn't what he needed right now. Her dad, Ron? Maybe, but, the idea of doing her dad seemed a little too freaky, even for Ozzie. At least at the moment , he smirked to himself.
Then there was that guy, the jock who was with Maddie and Ron at Auntie M's last night. Cliffie, he smiled. The only part he didn't like about jocks was the sports part. Ozzie hated sports. He briefly recalled his father's attempt to get him involved in soccer when he was little. His favorite part was the snack they got to eat at half time.
That guy was definitely cum worthy. Well built. I bet his shoulders must be gorgeous , he thought. He'd love to run his hands around them, down to his chest. Maybe bite his nipples a little. In an instant, he was hard once again. How can I track him down , Ozzie asked himself?
Oh yeah! He went to Brainerd. Played basketball. Ozzie thumbed in Brainerd High School sports into his phone, found the basketball page, and there he was! C.O. Wilson. His stats: 6'2," 175, seven-and-a-half-inch cock. Ha! It didn't say that, but Ozzie could just imagine. A search for the name Wilson around Bay Lake. Only one, an address on Brighton Point Road. He grabbed a pen and scribbled the street number on the palm of his hand.
Ozzie threw on a loose fitting pair of shorts and a bright pink polo, a pair of sandals on his feet. Underneath, canary yellow bikini panties. Jumping into the Beemer, he peeled out of the driveway and roared down the road.
In just a few minutes he was there. As he walked up to the front door, Ozzie thought for a second that maybe this wasn't the right place. The house looked empty. There was a big roll-off dumpster in the driveway that appeared to be piled high with furniture. He shrugged. Might as well give it a try.
C.O. was pretty much spent. After getting home, he stripped off his sweaty clothes and jumped into the shower. Visions of that Black kid swirled around his mind. I bet he's got a big one , he thought. Most of them do. A gloriously big head, long shaft. He could feel it in his hands. And his mouth, too. Maybe he'd gag when Ty shoved it down his throat. One hand on his chest, the other wrapped around his cock, he came in a mighty burst.
He was just getting out of the shower when he heard the doorbell downstairs. Thinking it was a delivery, he quickly wrapped a towel around his waist and tumbled down the stairs to the front door.
"Oh, hi!" Ozzie said, a bright smile on his face. His eyes swiftly took C.O. in, every delicious square inch of him. Then he giggled and, much to his own amazement, blushed.
He wasn't the only one blushing.
"Hey!" C.O. responded with an uncomfortable chuckle. "I, ah, was just getting out of the shower."
"Aren't I the lucky one?!" Ozzie giggled.
His eyes did another once around the boy's body. Straight blond hair, wet, messy, and sticking out in every direction, bright blue eyes, thin lips, a square jaw, strong shoulders, light veins visible on his muscled upper arms, a well defined chest, pink nipples, bigger than Ozzie would have imagined, a tight stomach, round belly button. Without thinking, Ozzie licked his lips.
C.O.'s mouth opened and closed a couple of times. He wasn't sure what to say. He just stood there holding the door open.
"Would you like to ask me in?" Ozzie finally asked.
The house was basically empty. Their voices echoed in the great room.
"We had a fire," C.O. explained. He went on to tell Ozzie what had happened. A painting crew was going to be starting tomorrow. After offering Ozzie something to drink, he said, "Let me run up and throw some clothes on."
"Oh, don't bother," Ozzie said.
"With the drink?"
"No, with the clothes." He look straight at C.O. and smiled.
C.O. chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. He got them a couple of soft drinks and led Ozzie out to the deck, offering him a lounge chair to sit on.
They talked for a few minutes about a variety of things, particularly about schools.
"You should look at the Ivies," Ozzie said. "Unless you need an athletic scholarship. They don't give them."
"I guess I don't need a scholarship. My folks, well my dad, would cream if I got into a school like Duke or Gonzaga."
Ozzie chuckled. "I like your choice of words." With that, he turned on his side and brushed the hair over the top of his head. Neither a boy look nor a girl look this time. Just an Ozzie look.
They were both silent for a moment.
"Are you seeing anyone?"
C.O. smirked.
"Well-l-l." How should he answer that question , he asked himself? Thayer came to mind instantly. But, then he'd just met Ty. "Oh, I dunno, sorta, maybe, kinda," he finally replied. "You?"
"I see people," Ozzie replied. He was going to say, lots and lots of people. But, something made him hold back from giving more of a braggadocios answer. "No one special, at the moment." He looked at C.O. with a straight face first, then let his eyes drop to the towel that was currently wrapped around C.O.'s waist. The outline of his dick was plainly visible.
A million different thoughts were rushing through C.O.'s brain almost like a rain swollen stream. Like most guys his age, or was that just all guys, he thought with his dick. Barely twenty minutes from his last orgasm and he was already thinking about sex. And, this guy, this amorphous thing, laying next to him, staring at him with his pretty eyes, oozed sex. Even the way he was breathing was a turn-on.
All of a sudden, Thayer became a fuzzy outline in his mind. Likewise, Ty. He chuckled uncomfortably.
"What's so funny?" Ozzie asked.
"I dunno. Maybe it's the random way people seem to hook up."
"Mmmm."
"You know. Like, how did you meet Maddie?"
Ozzie gave C.O. a brief synopsis of their very brief relationship.
C.O. smirked. "Sounds…interesting." He glanced down, only to see that his dick had now formed a significant bulge straining the towel that was wrapped around his waist. He looked at Ozzie.
Ozzie was looking, more like staring, at it, too. He looked up into C.O.'s eyes.
"Show me."
With a gasp, C.O. grabbed the edge of the towel and whipped it open. Seven plus inches of rock hard cock bounced off of his stomach. He looked down at it, the beginning of a frown on his face as he judged it. Amazingly thick and hard, especially since he'd emptied out just twenty minutes or so ago. It ached a little, but that was to be expected.
Ozzie's eyes swept over him, from head-to-toe. He had a wicked cute face. Those square shoulders and his muscular arms were drool worthy. As a matter of fact, Ozzie could imagine licking every square inch of his upper body, not withstanding the beautiful member in the middle. He must have just shaved because his pubic bone and upper legs were silky smooth.
Without looking at Ozzie, he reached one hand down, cupped his balls, and wrapped his fingers around the shaft with the other one. C.O. was afraid to look back at him. That guy was kind of a prick. What if he mocked me? The embarrassment would be mortal , he thought. Instead, he just concentrated on jerking himself off.
A couple of minutes later, C.O. squeezed his eyes shut, clenched his stomach muscles, and squirted out a modest amount of spunk. As his respiration began to return to normal, Ozzie jumped off of his lounge chair, knelt beside C.O., and carefully and thoroughly licked the jizz off of him, using his tongue to bathe his middle all the way out to each hip.
"Yummy!" Ozzie exclaimed in a light airy voice. He smiled softly at C.O., a twinkle in his eyes. He let out a cute giggle. He started to lean in to give him a kiss.
Just then, a bang and a thud from behind them, coming from the inside of the house, interrupting what was certainly going to be act two.
"C.O?" His mother called.
They both jumped to their feet, C.O. quickly redrawing the towel around his waist.
Both of his parents were there along with another woman, all three of them laden with bags and binders.
"This is Martha, from Restoration Hardware. She came all the way from Edina to help us get the house refurnished. Isn't that nice?" Wendy exclaimed with a big smile.
Introductions were made around.
"Aren't you Kara and O's boy?" Rhennie asked. He glanced over at C.O. with a frown. Why is he dressed like that, he wondered?
"Mmm, yeah," he responded, then giving C.O. a smile.
A couple of minutes later, Ozzie vaulted over the car door, landing in the driver's seat of the Beemer. C.O. had walked him out to his car.
"Let's go for a ride sometime," he said, an instant before he jammed the accelerator down and did a fast U-turn in the driveway, just missing the Wilson's car.
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