Dylan and Chris: After the Ride

This is first person, 100% fiction, sequel to Dylan’s First.

I hadn’t seen him since the night at Shop & Save but I still remembered everything about him. When I got home I picked up the phone and dialled Chris’s number. I had it memorized now as I’d called him twice a day for the last week.
“Hey, Dylan,” he said.
“How’d you know it was me?” I laughed.
“Who else would it be?” he rhetorically asked. I knew I called him excessively but I was addicted to talking to him. Since I’d met him and began conversing with him I’d found I had a lot in common with the adorable twinky slut.

I’m not insulting him by saying it either. He is a slut. I mean, obviously. He didn’t even know me and he fucked me in a parking lot. Ever hear of “Stranger Danger”?

He turned out to be sweet though. He didn’t mind me calling him as often as I did and he liked talking to me. Mostly he was a great listener. I was having a lot of issues at home with my mum’s ex showing up in the middle of the night and breaking into our house. She’d called the police but they didn’t arrest him so he kept coming back. It was sweet in a totally fucked up stalker ex-boyfriend way. My dad left us when I was little. I guess I should have been used to living with the boyfriend drama as my mum had gone through so many of them. I’m 19. Maybe I should just move out. I feel so unprepared though. Bla! I’m ranting…

“So what’s up Dylan?” Chris asked.
“Nothing really. I just wanted to hear your voice,” I sighed back. He giggled.
“You should come over to my place tonight,” Chris suggested.
“Yeah? I’d have to ask my mum,” I answered surprised that he wanted me to.
“Aren’t you nineteen?”
“Yes. She says that I still live at home and she doesn’t want to stay up late worrying about me,” I groaned.
“Oh. Ask her now,” Chris said.

“Okay. Can I call you back? I think she’s making dinner,” I asked.
“Sure.” I hung the phone up and threw it on my bed and left it as I went downstairs. She was in the kitchen working on dinner. It was almost 6 o’clock.
“Hey. Can I go over to a friend’s house tonight?” I asked leaning against the fridge.
“Are you going to eat dinner first?” she asked. My mum probably used to be pretty. I’m not saying that she’s completely not now, but she always looks so tired and sad. She had long blonde hair like Kim Basinger in 8 Mile. She’s pretty. She’s just the kind of pretty that could use a little makeup.

“If you want,” I answered.
“Who is it exactly that you’ve been calling all the time lately? Is there a new woman in your life?” she inquired with a sly smile.
“No, it’s just my friend Chris. I met him last week. He’s pretty cool,” I answered.
“Oh. I’ve heard you talkin’ to him ‘bout me and Morgan. You must really trust him, huh?” she questioned. I nodded.
“Yeah. I guess I do.”

“Is that where you’re going tonight?”
“Yeah,” I replied. She nodded slowly, taking it all in.
“Is he your age?”
“Sorta,” I responded.
“Sort of?” she asked sceptically.
“He’s 22,” I retorted.
“Okay. You know, by mobbing you with questions I’m just trying to make sure you’re going to be safe, honey,” she laughed. She told me to sit at the table. I ate the Tuna and macaroni (Yuck!!) casserole-like food that she gave me as we talked about what time I’d be home and bla, bla, bla.

When I was done eating I went upstairs and called him to tell him that I could be over soon. He lived nearby in a shady part of town that I’d never been to before so he offered to come pick me up. I told him where I lived kind of timidly and told him to be there in an hour. I showered and got dressed into moderately nice clothes. He pulled up in a tiny La Sabre. When he knocked on the door my mum answered and was like visibly shocked. He was, like, 5 6” with blonde hair which he’d obviously gotten cut and coloured since I’d last seen him. The ends were bluish and it was kind of styled to a point. It was cute for him. He had fairly pale skin and, you know, the body of your average porn star twink. He didn’t conceal that perfect body. He wore a tight Nirvana T-shirt with killer tight skinny jeans.

“Hi. Are you Dylan’s mum?” I heard him ask as I began to go down the stairs. I hoped that I looked good. Dress to impress.
“I am. You’re Chris?”
“Yes ma’m.” She gestured for him to come inside.
“I thought Dylan said that you were twenty-two?” she snickered. He laughed.

“I am,” he chuckled. I stood against the banister and Chris awkwardly waved at me from where he was standing beside my mum.
“Well, mum, if you’re done humiliating me and discomfiting my friend, I think I’m going to go,” I joked. She smiled.
“Okay. See you when you get home,” she said kissing me on my forehead. I felt mortified as I walked out with Chris and got into his car.
“I like your hair,” I complemented.

“Thank you,” he giggled making a point of touching the ends. He started his car and we drove pretty quietly as I just took in how sexy he was. We were about half-way to his house when he suddenly began talking again.
“Are you okay? Nervous? Excited?” he fidgeted.
“I’m a little nervous. I haven’t seen you since-”
“I know,” he cut in.
“I mean, you’re practically a stranger,” I admitted. He nodded.

“You’re not. I feel like I’ve talked to you so much that I know you. I like listening to you,” he agreed. I smiled. We were silent again as we drifted through a strangely graffiti smothered town. We pulled up to a small house that looked safer than anything else. He stopped the car in that driveway. There was another car there. As he got out I followed him up to the door.
“Oh! I hope you don’t mind that my ex is here,” he added. His ex?

I followed him inside and into a dimly lit living room. The TV was on LOGO and an arm hung over the arm of the couch.

“Hey, Andrew,” Chris said looking over the back. All the lights were off and the curtains only let a small amount of natural light stream through from what was left of the daylight. It was beginning to get dark out and I could see very little.
“Hi, Christopher,” a quiet voice said from the couch. Chris frowned and reached down to brush the boy’s face. He went to the kitchen and turned on the light.
“Andrew, get up and meet Dylan!” Chris commanded. The boy stirred a little bit. He sat up and looked over the back at me.

He was shockingly cute. He had messy black hair that was short and thick and choppy in layers. His blue eyes were extremely bloodshot and his left eye was bruised. He had few light freckles on his nose and his lip was cracked. His skin was incredibly pale and he looked dishevelled and tired overall.
“Hi,” he greeted in a tiny, shy voice.
“Hi. I’m Dylan,” I responded with a smile.
“I’m Andrew,” he answered. He fell back onto the couch and disappeared from my view. Disappointment clouded my face and Chris saw it. He walked toward me and wrapped his arms around me as he slipped his hands under the back of my shirt. He kissed my cheek and brushed my shaggy brown hair back over my ear.

“He’s not his best right now. I’m sorry,” he whispered with his lips on my ear. He pulled away looking into my eyes and smiled weakly. He released me from his arms and turned the lamp on the end table beside the couch. Andrew rolled over and covered his head with the blanket.
“What the hell are you doing?” Andrew groaned. Chris turned the TV off and pulled the comforter off of Andrew.
“Waking you up,” he answered. “Sit up, for God’s sake!”

Andrew sat up and Chris gestured for me to sit between them as he sat on the other end. I did as I was told and Andrew stared intently.
“Andrew! It’s impolite to stare!” Chris scolded. Andrew shrugged. He was almost a foot shorter than me (he was probably 5 3” or 5 2” I’m 6 feet tall even) and hew was only wearing a pair of briefs and a large T-shirt.
“Who the hell are you exactly?” he scoffed at me.

“I’m the hell Dylan,” I answered. He frowned. There was a stretch of silence before he glared at me.
“You’re parking lot victim guy aren’t you?” he asked narrowing his eyes.
“He is, but that’s not his name, Andrew!” Chris growled.

“Slut,” he mumbled at me. He had his arms crossed and an angry, very serious face. I actually felt surprisingly spiteful. I couldn’t believe that he would talk to someone he barely knew in such a way. Chris groaned and stood up. He walked to the other end of the couch and leaned over Andrew. His fingers laced through Andrew’s layered black hair. They faces were only 2 or 3 inches away from one another and Andrew looked lusty.

“I want you to be nice. I did that to him, okay? It wasn’t his fault and you need to behave. Do you understand me?” he whispered. Andrew moved to kiss him and Chris stood straight and slapped him across his cheek. Andrew sat steely.
“Fuck you,” he growled. Chris glanced at me and smiled. He kneeled down in front of Andrew and whispered something. When he pulled back Andrew grinned suspiciously and looked over at me.

“I’ll be right back. I have to go out for something. Andrew will keep you company, Dylan,” Chris said. My heart began to rush and I instantly felt nervous. Was I really going to just be left with this Andrew? I didn’t know him, but I guess if Chris, the stranger I’d known for an entire week, truly thought that he was safe then I would be fine.

Besides. He was cutish.

Chris smiled at me. I was sure that there was something conniving in the grin. He left me Andrew in the living room. Andrew got dressed all the way and cleaned things up as the couch space wasn’t in the best condition. There were a few plastic cups and an empty pack of cigarettes with two plates and a large bowl with popcorn crumbs. He removed the blanket from it’s bunched up place on the couch and folded it to put on the back. I relaxed against the armchair watching him speed-work. Finally the living room was moderately clean and he sat down beside me. He brought his knees up to his chest and hugged them. He looked at me.

“How big’s your dick?” he piped up.
“I don’t know. 10 inches. Maybe nine- and a half,” I answered without hesitation. I knew something was going to happen. He kept looking at me, up and down, examining my body to see if I was good enough for him.

“D’ya wanna blowjob?” he inquired. I nodded. Who turns that down? I unbuttoned my pants as he removed his shirt. His body was succulent but I did’ have time to admire it. In a second he was kneeling in front of me. He worked my jeans off of my legs and I helped by lifting my ass off of the couch for a second. He didn’t take my underwear off. Instead, he just pulled them down slightly in front and removed my cock.

He licked his lips excitedly and kissed the head of it, which was already leaking pre-cum. I guess I got excited too easily. He kissed up the shaft with his mouth open and his tongue licking. He brought it down, bending me a little bit. I whimpered.
“Hurts, don’t it?” he laughed. I nodded. He was smiling as he pulled my cock down toward him and I whimpered and whined.

“Please stop!” I begged. He let go and it stood straight again, begging for him to suck it. He put his open mouth onto the head and slid it into his mouth. I groaned in pleasure as he used his mouth and his hand to work me. His mouth slid up and down my shaft as he squeezed and massaged my balls.

The squeezing was hard and rough but it felt great. He shoved it down his throat with force and didn’t even flinch. I breathed heavily and struggled. The way he was going I would probably only last a couple of seconds. My cock twitched and he stopped sucking.
“Please!” I begged, knowing that he was stopping because he wasn’t going to let me cum. He laughed and stood up.

“Bend over,” he commanded. I sat and gazed at him questioningly. “Just bend over on the couch,” he repeated. He nodded when I didn’t and pulled my shirt off. He took my underwear off easily and I felt really shy and exposed. He began to unbutton his jeans and let them fall to the ground. I could see his hard-on through his undies and it didn’t look too big but if he was going to fuck me with it, it would definitely hurt. He crossed his arms impatiently and smiled at me.
“Why are you so stubborn?” he asked. I shrugged first but decided that I totally knew why.

“That’s gonna hurt,” I whimpered. He smiled and I finally got a rough taste of his lips. He kissed me hard and his tongue pressed into my mouth forcefully. He grabbed my shoulders and forced me onto my feet. His lips left mine and he turned me.
“Please don’t,” I begged as I realized what he was doing. He forced me forward so that I was bent over a little. I placed my hands onto the back of the couch and my knees dug into the cushions. I expected his dick, but instead a spit-covered finger met my hole. Andrew shoved his middle finger inside of me and I yelped.

“Shh,” he whispered. “It’s goin’ to feel so good,” he continued. His finger began to move in and out of my ass hole which squeezed around his finger tightly. He was right. I’d never fingered myself before but feeling this now was so wonderful. It moved in and out slowly and suddenly he added his index finger. I yelped again and he shushed me again. “Sweetheart, it’s okay. It won’t hurt so bad when we fuck, I promise,” he whispered near my ear. He slid it in and out of me and I felt so good.

Tingling heat rose up my spine and I shivered and shook with strange pleasure. He removed his fingers and kneeled behind me- shoving his tongue into my still tight hole. It darted in and out and I whined loudly and yelped and moaned. My body wriggled so he gripped my hips to keep me still. My legs trembled and again I felt like I was going to cum. His tongue suddenly stopped and he stood up. I waited for anything else to make this a more protracting action.

Instead he shoved his cock against my virgin asshole and pushed.

Initially, of course it hurt, but as he pressed into me with his hard 7 inch cock pleasure overwhelmed this pain. He pushed it in slowly and once his body was totally against me he kissed my lips again from behind. He slowly began to move it in and out of me and I felt so good. I closed my eyes and laid my head on the back of the couch. He gained speed a little too quickly for me to be completely adjusted and was pounding my ass in only a minute or so. I groaned loudly and felt so good. He obviously felt good, too, exclaiming “Oh fuck yeah!” and grunting. His breathing was so heavy and I could hear it right by my ear as he leaned forward and caressed my body with his.

Each deep thrust made my legs shudder and I felt I would give out underneath him and just collapse. It felt great, of course. I don’t think I’d ever felt anything so good in my life. He fucked me hard switching the tempo from a fast, almost unbearable shove to a slow pattern of careful, deep pushes. Suddenly a feeling that I barely recognized came forth, feeling like ice speeding through my body then an excruciating heat as my cock blew onto the sofa. Andrew’s breaths deepened and I heart him make an uncomfortable squealing noise as my whole body seemed to fill with his heat.

He kissed my neck and let his cock soften inside of me as he did so. He sucked sweat from my shoulders and my neck, and gave me such love, that I could barely contain myself not to turn around and pull him down onto my body and suck his kiss.
He pulled out and I sat on the couch a little bit away from my cum, trying to catch my breath.

“You liked?” he asked as he removed a paper towel from the roll in the kitchen. I nodded and closed my eyes. He cleaned my cum from the sofa like it was nothing. He sat on the other side of me and kissed my cheek. “Christopher will probably be home soon. Do you wanna get dressed?”

“Is there a choice?” I asked. He nodded.
“Sure maybe we could go again. With three this time around,” he said with a sly smile.

And we did. It was just once the first time, but each time I came back (and of course I did) I ended up fucking or being fucked.
And, I don’t know about Andrew or Chris, but I’m pretty content with my life now.

***

Hey! First off, please don’t ask me to do a part three because I barely wanted to do this. Please rate and comment and such. I hope you enjoyed and that it wasn’t that bad. Hugs! Grady J Fallen