I Love Corey, Chapter Twenty-five

As we sat, sipping our drinks and getting acquainted I watched Corey out of the corner of my eye. He took a little sip and seemed to think about it for a few seconds. Then he grinned and took another. Good Lord, I wondered if I’d have to stock up on tequila. 

As we visited I learned that the Springers had been all over the world. He had been in the Diplomatic service and been stationed in several foreign countries. Bob had become acquainted with him through his son. One of Bob’s sons had attended college with Jeff Springer and it wasn’t long before a friendship had grown between the families.

After about a half hour Martha announced that dinner was ready. Corey had finished his drink and looked like he was trying to figure out how to ask for another. Her announcement saved me from forbidding that. While I had no problem with limited amounts of alcohol, I didn’t think that one should consume very much at a time. My personal limit was no more than two drinks before dinner and wine with the meal. I much preferred to only have one drink but if the situation warranted would have the second. I’d never thought of offering Corey a cocktail but hadn’t objected as his drink had only been half the size of ours and ours weren’t that big.

Martha had prepared a marvelous dinner. There was a small bowl of the best onion soup I’d ever experienced followed by an unusual but delicious salad. The salad led to the main course which was Cornish game hens stuffed with mushrooms and wild rice. The finishing touch was a raspberry sorbet which was ambrosia. It took us almost two hours to get through the meal but if we’d gone any faster none of us would have been able to hold it all. Martha was clearly a master chef.

Corey had his problems with the meal. In the first place the conversation was a little over his head as the Springers had traveled widely and been exposed to many cultures and customs. They were used to entertaining and were relaxed and gracious hosts. However Corey had never been exposed to many of the things they talked about. His second problem was how to handle the game hen. I mean, there it was, beautifully presented on his plate. His problem was how to get the meat off and eat it. We happened to be talking when they were first served and continued talking for a couple of minutes. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself so he just sat there, trying to figure out how to get the meat off the carcass. When we finished the subject under discussion we turned our attention to the meal. That was when I noticed him looking at the hen. I suddenly understood what his problem was. Every time he tried to get some meat off, the whole thing either stayed on the fork or he came away with an empty fork. I never missed a beat. I just held the bird with one hand while I used the fork to remove morsels of it. I mean it’s like eating ribs; you have to use your fingers. A knife and a fork just don’t work sometimes. Yes, you could get some with a knife and fork but clearly not all of the meat. As soon as he saw the rest of us busily tearing the meat off, he joined in and enjoyed his dinner. I enjoyed mine too. If I’d been able to find a restaurant that served food this good I wondered what the bill would be.

As we were sitting in the living room and enjoying an after dinner cup of coffee, Corey noticed a painting on the wall. When he inquired, he learned that Martha had painted it. That was the last I saw of him for the rest of the evening. Martha grabbed his hand and quickly led him to her studio.

While I always enjoy talking with Corey, it was nice to carry on a conversation with adults about things an adult is interested in. Ronald, Bob, and I discussed world affairs and politics, something that Corey know very little about and cared even less about. Since Ronald had served abroad, he was knowledgeable about foreign governments and also took a real interest in domestic affairs. We spent about forty-five minutes exchanging views before Corey and Martha returned. 

Corey was beaming and Martha was acting like she had found a new son. They seemed to have developed a great relationship. I really hated to break things up but it was past his bed time.
Corey was again riding shotgun and he couldn’t seem to stop telling Bob what a great dinner it had been.

“I guess I know where my cooking rates,” I interjected.

Total silence suddenly overtook him. He couldn’t see my smirk. I’m surprised his brain didn’t explode while he tried to figure out what to say next. You could almost see heat waves rising from his head he was thinking so hard. I’d have probably gotten away with it if I hadn’t started to snicker. That was when he realized I’d been pulling his leg.

“You’re mean!” he snarled. About then Bob couldn’t help himself. He joined me in laughter. The rest of the trip was spent in laughter and joking with each other. Bob did tell me that the Springers would cater meals if they didn’t happen to have guests and when he told me the cost of the meal I was shocked. I almost asked him to turn around so I could book them and invite all my friends. It had only cost him twenty-five dollars a plate for a meal that would have been at least seventy-five in any restaurant by the time you figured in the drinks. Also, for seventy-five dollars I doubt that the food would have even been close to comparing in quality. He also explained that he had told them that I allowed Corey wine with meals and he supposed that was why they gave him a drink. After that comment nothing would do but that we grill Corey on his impression of the drink. It was just as I feared, I was going to have to replenish my supply of tequila. Maybe we could go to Disneyland and I could drive on down and get some. Not that it wasn’t available in the stores but it was such a bargain in Mexico.

By the time we finally got in the house it was late. In fact so late that we just headed for bed. I mean after all, he was just shy for fourteen and needed his sleep. Sleep however was delayed. We wound up discussing the drink he had and alcohol use in general. I explained that I thought that one should be careful about the amount and place where one consumed it. Also that one should never drive when one has consumed enough to have any effect on one’s ability to drive. I wasn’t completely finished when his answers had turned into soft grunts. He was in his favorite position with his head on my chest when I finally gave up. I was sure he wasn’t really listening and was only grunting from reflex. I’d just have to remember to finish this talk some other time. Besides, it was getting difficult to concentrate on what I was saying.

When I again became aware of my surroundings things were interesting. He was spooned against my back, his right arm draped across my body and his hand was wrapped around I’ll let you guess what. Needless to say I enjoyed it. Add to that the fact that I could feel his cock in the crack of my ass and I have to admit that this was a great way to wake up. 

Normally our positions were reversed. Apparently he had learned from those times. It didn’t take long for his gentle stroking and humping to, shall I say, bring me up to speed.
The feel of his warm breath on the back of my neck, coupled with his exploring fingers did much to drive away the cobwebs. Any that weren’t destroyed by that were banished by the slow humping going on in my crack. I was enjoying it so much I couldn’t figure out what to do.

“Ummmm, that’s nice.”
“You like it.” From the tone of his voice it really wasn’t a question. He knew I more than liked it. I loved it. He continued his stroking of my cock.

While I would have liked to pee, this was much better and much more important. The only thing that was wrong was that I couldn’t reach him to return the favor. As I was trying to figure out what to do, he increased his grip slightly and all such thoughts were immediately gone. All I could do was just lie there and let him do whatever he wanted. I was so lost in love and the sensations he was producing that I had no response. I’d once heard that if rape was inevitable you should just lay back and enjoy it. This wasn’t rape but I definitely was enjoying it.

His grip again tightened and he also started gently gnawing at that place where your neck joins your body, you know, that place where the one vertebra seems a little more prominent. The feel of his teeth gently scraping, and the grip and movement of his hand was rapidly producing the approach of the end. I knew I was close. I could feel my feet curl and wondered if I could hold out a little longer.

I tried to wait but he increased his grip a little more and it was no use. I no longer had any control over my body. I could feel my back arch and the start of that exquisite feeling that occurs at times like this. Damn, we’ll have to change the sheets again.

To be continued…