At Marie’s (5)
“Get up punk. You got more coming, and youre gonna pay for rooning the shorts too.”
JJ sat upright. “Fuck man! What’s yer problem? Here, take my shorts if itll make ya fuckin happy.” JJ tossed his shoes away and slid his shorts from under him. The back of his Under Armor underwear was pulled down, revealing a section of crack and his smooth white ass. John John held the shorts up, offering them to Chris. Chris jerked them from JJ and grabbed the outstretched arm, pulling JJ up into him. Chris squeezed his arms around JJ’s waist, lifting him in a front bearhug.
As Chris tightened his grip grinding their chests and crotches together, JJ pounded his fists on Chris’s strong lats, wanting to break the hold. JJ moaned as his chest was crushed by Chris’s powerful arms. JJ swung his leg around the back of Chris’s, slamming his heel into the back of Chris’s knee. Chris fell back, taking John John with him. They slammed down to the gravel, JJ again landing on top of Chris.
JJ was unhurt and mounted Chris’s hips. He began pounding lefts and rights to Chris’s pecs and abs. As Chris began to mouth-off again, JJ rammed him in the jaw, snapping his head to the side and closing his mouth.
Having caught his second wind and more lucidity than he’d had in an hour at least, John John pulled himself to his feet. Hopping backwards, jabbing the air in front of him, while Chris rubbed his aching jaw and groggily got himself up on this elbows.
There was a smirk on JJ’s face, and for the moment that smirk was all Chris could see. Then John John swooped down, knees on Chris’s ribs, left hand grabbing Chris up by his right ear, right hand delivering freshly minted punches to Chris’s mouth. There was a crack, and Chris figured he’d lost a filling at least.
JJ again hopped to his feet. The pure aggro of the last 20 minutes rushed through his veins. He did an enthusiastic back flip on the scraggly, weedy grass.
Some kung-fu kicks to the air in front of his head.
“Get up, Chris. What about that lickin you were gonna give me for your shorts? No, wait, was that IT, just then? Cuz, I don’t know, it sure di’n’t come off like any lickin I ever heard of.”
Chris spat blood and something that looked like a piece of tooth on the ground next to his head.
“Keep jawin, John Boy. You’ll get what’s comin to ya.”
(To be continued)
JJ sat upright. “Fuck man! What’s yer problem? Here, take my shorts if itll make ya fuckin happy.” JJ tossed his shoes away and slid his shorts from under him. The back of his Under Armor underwear was pulled down, revealing a section of crack and his smooth white ass. John John held the shorts up, offering them to Chris. Chris jerked them from JJ and grabbed the outstretched arm, pulling JJ up into him. Chris squeezed his arms around JJ’s waist, lifting him in a front bearhug.
As Chris tightened his grip grinding their chests and crotches together, JJ pounded his fists on Chris’s strong lats, wanting to break the hold. JJ moaned as his chest was crushed by Chris’s powerful arms. JJ swung his leg around the back of Chris’s, slamming his heel into the back of Chris’s knee. Chris fell back, taking John John with him. They slammed down to the gravel, JJ again landing on top of Chris.
JJ was unhurt and mounted Chris’s hips. He began pounding lefts and rights to Chris’s pecs and abs. As Chris began to mouth-off again, JJ rammed him in the jaw, snapping his head to the side and closing his mouth.
Having caught his second wind and more lucidity than he’d had in an hour at least, John John pulled himself to his feet. Hopping backwards, jabbing the air in front of him, while Chris rubbed his aching jaw and groggily got himself up on this elbows.
There was a smirk on JJ’s face, and for the moment that smirk was all Chris could see. Then John John swooped down, knees on Chris’s ribs, left hand grabbing Chris up by his right ear, right hand delivering freshly minted punches to Chris’s mouth. There was a crack, and Chris figured he’d lost a filling at least.
JJ again hopped to his feet. The pure aggro of the last 20 minutes rushed through his veins. He did an enthusiastic back flip on the scraggly, weedy grass.
Some kung-fu kicks to the air in front of his head.
“Get up, Chris. What about that lickin you were gonna give me for your shorts? No, wait, was that IT, just then? Cuz, I don’t know, it sure di’n’t come off like any lickin I ever heard of.”
Chris spat blood and something that looked like a piece of tooth on the ground next to his head.
“Keep jawin, John Boy. You’ll get what’s comin to ya.”
(To be continued)
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