Lucky Dog (11)

The summer shower pelted Bud’s back. Water was falling in sheets. Bud heard the hibachi hiss and pop as the rain snuffed the coals and doused his and Matt’s T-bones. Nothing to do about it. Nothing at all.

“Wanna break?” Matt’s voice broke in the static of the sudden torrent.

“Uh-uh,” said Bud, as best he good with his head buttoned between the kid’s arm and ribcage. “Got a feeling that wrestling in the rain is going to be a hell of a lot more fun than trying to save dinner.” Bud was shouting this over the din.

Matt laughed, but their moment together didn’t stop him from giving Bud’s head a quick squeeze and a twist. He stood up, drawing Bud up with him. He pulled him away from the patio, towards the center of the lawn. Then he bent down and whipped Bud over his hip. Bud and he together went SPLAT on the loose mud.

Both guys started giggling. Their feet slipped and slid on the grass. Bud tried to scramble up, but Matt leaned in with all his weight to force him back to the ground. They rolled together—the warm rain coming down so hard they couldn’t see even two feet away.

Bud let his hands glide over Matt’s slick, smooth ribs, then strum cross his abs. Matt’s skin shimmered in the rain. Matt’s heart pounded over Bud. The vibrations shook the very center of him.

Matt tried to snag Bud’s leg, but the mud made it easy to slip free. Bud pushed against Matt’s chest, but his hands found no traction. A flash of lightning, and then a peal of thunder that shook right through the two of them.

No question, Bud felt Matt had a boner, almost as firm and conspicuous as his own. Not unusual, though, for guys to have erections while wrestling, even guys who like girls. Bud knew for sure what his chubby meant. He didn’t know what to make of Matt’s.

Clamping on to Matt’s back thigh muscle, Bud threw the kid on his back and rolled over him. Matt blinked and sputtered into the falling raindrops. Forearm wedged under Matt’s hamstrings, Bud hoisted his leg, while cradling his head and shoulders up by the neck. He clamped his fingers together over Matt’s chest, drawing Matt’s chin and knee together for an unequivocal pin.

Matt minded losing, but he tried to be cool about it. He cursed the rain and laughed it off. The storm was almost over. Regular rain now, gradually diminishing. Bud was rock hard. He tried to hide it by staying bent over when he got back on his feet. Matt got up on his haunches and looked Bud up and down. He saw. He smirked and shook his head in comic disbelief.

(To be continued)


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