over Rooster’s skin taking in every piece of inked body art. He imagined his tongue mapping each design on Rooster’s smooth, tanned skin and felt his cock twitch. His eyes lifted to Rooster’s face and he smiled when he realized Rooster’s eyes were scanning his naked form, too.
“Join me,” Wheland said. “And lose the towel.”
“I thought you wanted to talk,” Rooster said.
“I do and we will, but I’d like to look at you some more, too,” Wheland said.
Rooster untied his towel and let it fall to the carpeted floor. Wheland’s eyes dropped to Rooster’s groin. Even flaccid, Rooster’s cock was long and thick, nicely sized balls were snug below the root of his prick with a trimmed patch of dark pubic hair above. Wheland licked his lips and watched as Rooster stepped toward the bed and crawled up beside him. He reached for Rooster and inched him over to share the same pillow.
“Sonny,” Wheland said, elongating the name and making it sound almost lyrical.
“Mick,” Rooster said, and a wide smile formed on his face.
“I like hearing you say my name,” Wheland said.
“I like the fact you didn’t have a meltdown this time when I said it,” Rooster said.
“I apologized for that.”
“You did,” Rooster said, “And I accepted your apology.”
“I’ve never said that before,” Wheland said.
Rooster came upright a bit and rested on one elbow. “You’ve never apologized?”
“Not to a lover for my behavior,” Wheland said. “I never really felt the need, or gave a shit, but with you I wanted to fix it and make things right.”
“I’m glad you did,” Rooster said.
Rooster bent down and lightly kissed Wheland’s mouth. Wheland gripped the back of Rooster’s neck, deepened the kiss, and tugged Rooster down to the mattress; face-to-face again. Wheland’s fingers skimmed over Rooster’s face, trailing over his eyebrows and down along his cheeks and whiskered jawline. “So, when did you discover you liked dudes?” Wheland asked. His question was met with laughter from Rooster.
“In my teens,” Rooster finally said. “I messed around with a couple of guys back in junior high and high school but got busy with music and after that I spent all my time with my band and the female groupies that followed us.”
“I don’t remember seeing you with any guys in the early days of your career,” Wheland said. “And then you got married.”
“My experimental phase happened in my early teens,” Rooster said. “I got with the wrong crowd when I was fifteen, got caught breaking in to a neighbor’s house, and was sent to juvenile detention for six months. Some shit happened in juvy with a boy and a couple guys in high school but I never acted on it again until I got together with my wife.”
“Oh, Christ, you weren’t raped in juvy were you?” Wheland asked.
“It wasn’t prison, Mick,” Rooster said with a chuckle. “There were a shitload of kids at this facility. Most of the rooms had at least four, sometimes six guys in them. I shared my room with three dudes: Jersey, Carlos, and Ricky. We were all fourteen, fifteen, or sixteen at the time. And, at that age most guys are all about their dicks and getting off. We did a lot of jerking off in our room, in the showers, wherever we thought we could do it and not get caught. There’s no privacy in those places, so after trying unsuccessfully to hide what we were doing when in our room, we just started doing it in front of each other. It became sort of like a spectator sport; a running joke between us. Looking back at that now, I realize how turned on I’d get watching them. That should have been a huge red flag for me about my sexuality, but it wasn’t. I chalked it up to normal curiosity.”
Rooster adjusted the pillows behind his head and continued telling Wheland about his past. “There was this one kid, Carlos. He was a thin Latino and we all had a bit more muscle than him. One night we were all rubbing one out in our
“Join me,” Wheland said. “And lose the towel.”
“I thought you wanted to talk,” Rooster said.
“I do and we will, but I’d like to look at you some more, too,” Wheland said.
Rooster untied his towel and let it fall to the carpeted floor. Wheland’s eyes dropped to Rooster’s groin. Even flaccid, Rooster’s cock was long and thick, nicely sized balls were snug below the root of his prick with a trimmed patch of dark pubic hair above. Wheland licked his lips and watched as Rooster stepped toward the bed and crawled up beside him. He reached for Rooster and inched him over to share the same pillow.
“Sonny,” Wheland said, elongating the name and making it sound almost lyrical.
“Mick,” Rooster said, and a wide smile formed on his face.
“I like hearing you say my name,” Wheland said.
“I like the fact you didn’t have a meltdown this time when I said it,” Rooster said.
“I apologized for that.”
“You did,” Rooster said, “And I accepted your apology.”
“I’ve never said that before,” Wheland said.
Rooster came upright a bit and rested on one elbow. “You’ve never apologized?”
“Not to a lover for my behavior,” Wheland said. “I never really felt the need, or gave a shit, but with you I wanted to fix it and make things right.”
“I’m glad you did,” Rooster said.
Rooster bent down and lightly kissed Wheland’s mouth. Wheland gripped the back of Rooster’s neck, deepened the kiss, and tugged Rooster down to the mattress; face-to-face again. Wheland’s fingers skimmed over Rooster’s face, trailing over his eyebrows and down along his cheeks and whiskered jawline. “So, when did you discover you liked dudes?” Wheland asked. His question was met with laughter from Rooster.
“In my teens,” Rooster finally said. “I messed around with a couple of guys back in junior high and high school but got busy with music and after that I spent all my time with my band and the female groupies that followed us.”
“I don’t remember seeing you with any guys in the early days of your career,” Wheland said. “And then you got married.”
“My experimental phase happened in my early teens,” Rooster said. “I got with the wrong crowd when I was fifteen, got caught breaking in to a neighbor’s house, and was sent to juvenile detention for six months. Some shit happened in juvy with a boy and a couple guys in high school but I never acted on it again until I got together with my wife.”
“Oh, Christ, you weren’t raped in juvy were you?” Wheland asked.
“It wasn’t prison, Mick,” Rooster said with a chuckle. “There were a shitload of kids at this facility. Most of the rooms had at least four, sometimes six guys in them. I shared my room with three dudes: Jersey, Carlos, and Ricky. We were all fourteen, fifteen, or sixteen at the time. And, at that age most guys are all about their dicks and getting off. We did a lot of jerking off in our room, in the showers, wherever we thought we could do it and not get caught. There’s no privacy in those places, so after trying unsuccessfully to hide what we were doing when in our room, we just started doing it in front of each other. It became sort of like a spectator sport; a running joke between us. Looking back at that now, I realize how turned on I’d get watching them. That should have been a huge red flag for me about my sexuality, but it wasn’t. I chalked it up to normal curiosity.”
Rooster adjusted the pillows behind his head and continued telling Wheland about his past. “There was this one kid, Carlos. He was a thin Latino and we all had a bit more muscle than him. One night we were all rubbing one out in our
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