"Jimmie Jack! Woohoo!" My dumb sister damn near startled the living shit out of me, but I didn't move a muscle. I just wasn't interested in giving her the satisfaction. "Mamma says for you to come in off that front porch. You simply cannot stand out there dressed like that. The neighbors'll talk."
"Excuse me, Fiona, but I'm really not interested in what Mamie and Tootles Jeeter may or may not think about my outfit." Mamie and Tootles were twins. They lived in the house directly across the street from us and spent way too much time keeping track of everything that went on in the neighborhood. Tootles always tromped around in men's overalls and Mamie had worn the same pink and purple, horizontal-stripe dress every day since I'd started third grade. Needless to say, I wasn't about to look to either one of them for fashion tips.
"Brother, what is wrong with you anyway? Momma says nobody on her side of the family ever acted like that, so you must've gotten it from Daddy. I can see your naked butt. Yech!"
"Fiona, I ain't naked."
"Might as well be, standing out here out in front of God and everybody with your business all pushed out in front like you was advertising it."
"Listen, Miss Prissypants, I'll have you know these shorts was mail-ordered special from an exclusive catalog with real models in it." I'd ordered these real sexy, stretchy shorts out of one of them underwear catalogs. I actually happened to be dressed exactly like the model, with the baseball cap and the white socks and the tennis shoes. Only difference was that my shoes came from that discount place out south of town and his probably didn't. Like anybody in this hick town was gonna notice a detail like that. "For your information, they're trimline physique shorts with an action pouch. You see these in the big city all the time, not that you'd know anything about that."
"Well here's an action for you, Jimmie Jack. Haul your butt around back of the house and stand where nobody can see you. I'm expecting Dave." Fiona'd been dating Dave Hawley forever, and if she thought he was gonna marry her, she was dumber than she looked. He was about the world's biggest loser and the only Job he'd ever heard of was a character out of the Bible.
"What is it with you anyway, Jimmie Jack? Dave says you're one of them queers. Are you?"
"My sex life ain't none of your business, Fiona." I vaulted over the porch rail, down onto the hard-packed dirt. "And you can tell that dumb fart Dave Hawley to cram his stupid opinions up his fat butt. I'm gonna be famous, Fiona. Rich and famous. I'm fixing to get discovered. Just you wait and see."
"You ain't gonna be shit, Jimmy Jack. That's what Dave says."
I would've given my dumb sister an even bigger piece of my mind than I already had, but just then Boyd pulled into the alley behind the garage and flashed his headlights. I had to run, because if I kept him waiting, he'd get all freaked somebody was gonna see him. Yeah, like they'd be able to tell who it was. When he came around to see me, he always had a hat pulled down over his face and the collar on his jacket turned up so he looked like he was fixing to rob a convenience store or something. Hell, he wasn't even driving his own truck--he'd just borrowed one of them stolen jobs from down at the impound yard.
"Get on in, goddammit!" I wrenched open the passenger door and climbed into the cab. Boyd popped the clutch and threw me back against the seat. "Jesus H. Christ, Lomax, I thought you was naked."
"Hey there, Boyd. Nice to see you, too." I got myself straightened around in the seat. "Let me assure you, I ain't naked."
"Get down before somebody sees you." Boyd grabbed me by the neck and pulled my head down into his lap as the headlights from an oncoming vehicle swept across the cab. Naturally Mr. Paranoid was afraid somebody was gonna see two guys in some anonymous truck in the pitch dark and immediately figure it was Sheriff Boyd Gooch, out to get his rocks off with Jimmy Jack Lomax, town queer.
"Get on down and suck my cock, Lomax. If I wanted to talk, I would've called up a friend of mine."
"Thanks a heap, Boyd."
"Suck." I ducked my head into his lap. His cock and balls were already hanging out of his gaping fly. At least I couldn't accuse Boyd of being hard to get. Oh, what the hell? Boyd wasn't much of a talker, but he did have a big cock. I grabbed a hold of the stalk and started licking on the big, spongy head. I heard the engine rev, a sure sign he was enjoying himself. In less than a minute I was sucking on about eight inches of hard dick and we were racing down the highway at about ninety miles per hour.
I swirled my tongue around the blunt tip, then popped his knob into my mouth. I locked my lips down tight and started sucking. Once I got the head hard and slick as a little crab apple, I got after it with my tongue, lashing it back and forth till Boyd started to whimper. He was driving with his left hand on the wheel and his right crammed down the back of my new shorts. He was fingering my hole like mad.