Aaron's Summer of '77 Ch. 06

I've decided not to say a word, because I want to see just how well he can pull this whole scenario off here. He stands up and is less than six inches away from me. I reach down, grab onto his fully aroused dick and start to rub it through the fabric of his suit pants.

"Get inside the fuckin' car, kid... inside, I say."

He's just slammed down the hood of his car and I am in the passenger seat as he plunks his hot man ass down in his driver's seat and pumps his gas pedal four times.

"C'mon you cunt... start, you cock-sucker!"

Eventually it coughs and turns over for him. He revs it few times and then takes my hand and shoves it down into the hot pube forest between his long, furry legs.

"You now what to do, kid. Now get down there and suck my cock!"

After a couple of minutes I have to stop and look up at him and say, "You know Adam, this just doesn't seem so exciting, now that we are doing this for the second time!" I say to him.

"I know what ya' mean. Cookie! I think we're kinda' well past the point of first contact, baby. That being said though, I hafta' admit, I kinda' like you down there playin' with my hairy fuck rod though!"

"Can I have your suit coat to put around my shoulders, Adam? I just can't get enough of how it smells like you."

"Only if you smell and lick my arm pit and bite my shoulder, like you did the other night, babe. I kept looking at your bite marks the next morning in the bathroom mirror when I was getting ready for work. And then I jerked off in my shower thinking about you and hoping I'd still be able to see those marks when I got home."

"That's just the beginning of the foreplay I'm going to do to you, Adam. You've taught me well!"

"I sure as fuckin' hell hope so, baby!" he groans, as I go down on him and lick his hairy low-hangers and suck away on his throbbing King Kong dong!

The Oakland Cometary is just at the corner intersection of old Highway#2 and a bit past the turnoff onto the Lyn Road. Adam reaches over with his right hand and turns his ignition key off as we pull into the parking lot beside the chapel at the front of the cemetery. Then he lets his car coast into a dark parking spot, far off from view from the road.

"There ya' go cookie... 'pretend' we just stalled out and do whatever fuckin' kinky thing you can think of to get me off! Might as well be as stiff as all the other 'stiffs' in this graveyard...hah...hah...hah!"

I repeat most of what I could remember from the first time I got the chance to get into his pants. And I have to admit, I feel just as boned up and aroused as I did the first time I touched and tasted him and got to totally experience his masculine, virile body.

" 'fuckin' fuck, fuck, fuck cookie! I swear you make me cum harder and harder each time you go down on me now! If I can get it up here again for ya' in a few minutes, then I'm gonna' plow your ass so hard, you're gonna' be walkin' with a limp for the next couple of days, baby!"

"Adam? I need to buy a bed for my place in Ottawa. Do you like soft or hard mattresses and what kind of pillows so you sleep with, feather or foam?"

Another look of complete shock from him and he says. " 'jeezus 'cookie...way to pick bad timing for a question like that, babe! Right now I'd fuck ya' on the ground if that's all we had! Now let's just sit here quietly for a bit and you can bury your face in my jacket and smell it to your heart's content and I'll shove my hand up your tee shirt and play with your cute, little boy nipples!"

"Can I smell your hairy pube forest too, Adam?"

"Cookie baby, if I could 'bottle' it up like my Eau Sauvage, I'd put it in an atomizer and you could spray my man scent on ya' and wear me on your hot little bod' all the time, honey!"

It's Friday, September 2nd and the start of the Labor Day weekend...my last free one in Brockville before commencement of classes in Ottawa. Adam has packed his Mom's little tent into the trunk of his car, along with a big, double-sized sleeping bag. He's also borrowed a cooler from my Mom and Dad and packed it full of food and wine to last us through the three days we'll be camping up at Brown's Bay.

Brown's Bay is about twenty miles west of Brockville on the old Highway#2. The St. Lawrence River there is wide open and the main shipping channel along the river at this spot is closer to the American side than the Canadian one. The Thousand Islands don't really start until about ten miles further west, where they stretch out between Rockport and where the St. Lawrence River meets Lake Ontario up by Kingston.

Dad always took the Weldon kids, John and Wendy along with me up to Brown's Bay every weekend when we were all in grade school at St. Francis. My memories of the canteen there with foil-wrapped, mustard-loaded hotdogs and vanilla ice cream bars and the long, sandy beach are of fun, laughter and play as a child.

"Well cookie...looks like we've got everything packed up and ready to head out! Remember, there's no electrical to plug in your blow drier and ya' won't be needin' a steamer trunk for twenty changes of clothes either!"

"Very funny, Adam. I can 'rough it' just as well as you can, wookiee!"

"Hah...hah...we'll see, cookie! I kinda' doubt that, baby!"

This looks like a pretty good spot to set up the tent, Aaron. It's out in the open on pretty flat, bare ground, away from all those spruce trees and pretty far back into the campground. Shouldn't be gettin' too much noise and disturbance from other folks back here and there's a fire pit just beside us, so I can use some wood I brought and make a campfire for us to sit around after dark. Whatdaya' think, cookie? Is this good for you here, baby?"

"I like the fact we don't have people on either side of us. Let's pull everything out of the trunk and set up camp here," I say.

Three hours later and Adam has a little folding hibachi grille set up and is cooking up hamburgers for us.

" 'Mmmmm', they smell good, Adam. I'm hungry!"

"They'll be ready in a couple a' minutes here, cookie! We'll save the steaks I got for tomorrow and maybe head in to Rockport to have dinner at the restaurant there on the river on Sunday. I want everything to be 'perfect' for ya' before you hafta' head up to Ottawa next week. "Jeezus" cookie, I'm gonna' miss ya' not bein' in town, baby."

"I don't want to think about that right now, Adam. I just want to be with you right now, OK?"

"OK, baby...OK."

After dinner, Adam goes and finds some kindling and pulls a couple of fire logs out of the back of his trunk, while I dump the charcoal into the fire pit from the hibachi and clean up the grille and plastic dishes from dinner . "This is so nice and peaceful, Adam. I'm really happy you suggested we do this," I say, as I lay back, resting against a fallen tree trunk and staring into the fire that Adam managed to build with the sparse kindling he had to work with around the camp site.

"They were talkin' about some rain overnight on the radio this morning. But, it looks pretty clear to me," says Adam as he moves over to sit close beside me. "Here, cookie... here's a glass of wine for ya'. Gotta' love that burning wood smell from a camp fire, eh, Aaron? Let's just finish our wine and douse the fire and then crawl into that nice big sleeping bag I hauled along for us, OK, baby?"

"''Mmmmm'...I 'like' that plan, Adam! Can we get naked under the covers? "

"Keep talkin' that way, babe and I'll generate enough heat to keep you on fire all night long!"

It's three o'clock in the morning. Flashes of lightening and loud crashes of thunder wake us both up. The tent is starting to leak badly, because of the torrential downpour from the thunder storm raging over the river, close to the campground. We both wake up to discover that the open ground we set the tent up on has become a river and both the canvas floor of the tent and the sleeping bag are soaked right through. The front flap on the tent is whipping back and forth and every ten seconds or so, a wind gust sends a driving spray of cold rain onto us, as we lay beside each other in the sleeping bag.

" 'Jeezus fuck', baby! Quick, grab the pillows and I'll roll up the sleeping bag! We'll hafta' leave the tent and cooler and stuff 'til it stops raining and get over to the car, where it's gonna' be a helluva' lot drier inside than what this fuckin' shit is right now! I'm really sorry about this, babe!" says Adam, as he jumps up, stark naked and starts to gather up whatever is still dry and runs over toward the car.

"You didn't exactly plan the weather, Adam. It's OK though. You've had to sleep in your car overnight. I guess spending one night in it with you isn't going to kill me either!"

The rest of that night, Adam and I are huddled close together in his back seat, as the wind gusts from the storm buffet his old car back and forth and the driving rain keeps coming down, obscuring whatever is happening outside the car and luckily for us, the action happening inside between Adam and me until first daylight! The last thing I remember before falling into a deep sleep was Adam slowly shoving his fully aroused big, hairy dong up my butt and whispering to me, "Honey, I'm gonna' keep my dick warm by leavin' it in you til we both fall asleep. OK, cookie?"

"Hah...hah...OK, sure, Adam. Works for me, wookiee."

Six o'clock on Saturday morning and the rain is still coming down in sheets... " 'Ahhh' fuck...cookie, look at the tent! says Adam, as he leans up from the back seat and stares over at where we set it up. "It's completely collapsed!" he says. The tent poles must have given way overnight and the poor tent is spread out flat and soaking wet on the ground, with only the cooler and whatever other stuff we couldn't grab and throw into the car last night poking through the front flap. "What a fuckin' disaster this whole idea turned out to be!" he says. "And I wanted it to be perfect for ya' too! Lemme' throw on some clothes here and we'll head into Rockport and have breakfast there. Then we'll come back and grab the tent and cooler and head back into Brockville. We can spend the rest of the weekend at my place. I'm sorry about this, cookie. I really am!"

After he throws on a pair of soggy shorts and tee shirt, he climbs over the back seat and gets himself settled into his driver's seat and tries to start his car.

"Fuck! C'mon you sonofabitch! Start you cunt!"

The rain keeps coming down in buckets and his old car is not cooperating with him at all. It just keeps cranking away and refuses to start.

"You fuckin' shitbox! C'mon baby! You just gotta' start!"

I manage to throw on some clothes and crawl over the back seat and say to him, "I don't think it's going to start, Adam."

" 'Shhhh' baby... it's just gotta! C'mon...c'mon...c'mon...turn over for me, ya' fuckin' piece a' shit!"

Just then his starter makes a terrible screeching noise and after that, every time he turns the key, the screeching gets louder and louder, until there is a final squeal, and then nothing after that. Sounds like his starter has burned on him.

"Fuck! Just fuckin' wonderful!" he says finally. "Stuck in this fuckin' rain with a dead fuckin' shitbox of a car and stranded here!"

"Well Adam...if I have to be stranded, I'd rather it be with you than anyone else," I say to him.

"Honey, I just wanted this last weekend with you before ya' go to be perfect," he says. Then I can see tears starting to well up in his eyes, as he stares out the windshield and shakes his head,

"It 'is' perfect, because I'm spending it with you, Adam," I say to him and wrap my arms around him in an effort to make him feel better.

"Well, now we're gonna' hafta' get fuckin' soaked here, walkin' over to the pay phone at the front gate. I'll hafta' give my Mom a call and hopefully, she can come and get us and take us back home. I'll figure out what to do with my fuckin' car and the tent and crap later on." Then he just sits there for a couple of minutes, turns to me eventually and says, "Cookie, do ya' know what a 'metaphor' is?"

" 'Ummm'...no, Adam. What's that?"

"Well baby, it's kinda' like a 'figure of speech' that's a symbol for something. This old car of mine is a metaphor. It's like everything else in my life right now, keepin' me back and reminding me of my Dad and how he let my Mom and me down and how I'm not goin' anywhere right now. I just wanna' cry, honey. You're gonna' be gone soon and here I am, about to be alone again! I don't wanna' be alone, cookie! I just don't anymore!" Tears start to roll down his face and I know I must say something to him, to make this better for him, somehow.

"You're not alone, Adam. You have me. I don't know what I can say to make you feel better right now. But, school and distance are 'not' going to break up what we have! That much, I know."

He pulls me into a tight embrace and buries his head on my shoulder, "I'm gonna' miss you, Aaron, so much! I really am, cookie!"

"It's all going to be fine, Adam. I just know it is." I say.

" 'Jeezus, Aaron! Sure am glad this armoire of yours comes apart. Gettin' it down the stairs would have been a 'bitch' if we'd hadta' carry it down in one piece!" says Adam, as he starts to sweat and strains to carry the side pieces of it down the front stairs. My Dad is down at the foot of the stairs and shouts up to Adam and me, "Careful guys! Don't mark the wall when you bring the desk and the rest of everything down to load into the trailer!"

"I think we'll be OK and I promise we won't hit the stair bannister railing or the wall when we get the rest of the stuff, Mr. Christie. Are there any more pieces of furniture to go, after we bring the desk and stereo down and then the chair in Aaron's room?"

"There's a small pine chest in the basement, along with an extra TV set. I think that's it for the furniture. Then there are just the boxes of records and books and after that, just the clothing," says my Dad. We can head out once everything is packed into the Rental trailer and maybe stop for breakfast in Johnstown at the gas station and restaurant there before heading on up to Ottawa,"

"Dad. Can I take that little rug that Mom put in my room too? It's my favorite colour and I think of Mom every time I look at it."

"I think she'd like to know that. And yes, Aaron, take the rug. I'll tell her you said that, son."

"I wish she were here right now, Dad."

"She is having a hard time with you moving out and leaving, Aaron. She's never been good with good byes."

"But Dad, this isn't 'really' good bye. I'll be back on weekends and holidays."

"It 'is' a kind of a good bye to her. Aaron. You're grown up now and moving into your own apartment in a strange city. Give her some time and she'll be fine, son."

"Blackjack, I'm going to miss you girl! You be a good girl for Mom and Dad and next time I see you, we'll go for a long walk together!" I say, while bending down to give her a big hug and to scratch her back.

Finally, the rental trailer is filled up and we are ready to head out. "Adam, you sit up front and ride shotgun with me. And Aaron, you're in the back this time," says my Dad, as we are in the driveway ready to go.

"Looks like a good day for weather and hopefully, this should all go well," says my Dad, as he heads down the 401 to Prescott. "We'll stop in Johnston to gas up and have something to eat. I'm paying for breakfast and lunch, Adam to say thank you for helping out here. You know, you've been a really big support to us throughout this whole transition. Aaron's Mother and I are very grateful to you for pitching in and helping us all out here, son. She wants you to come over next week to have dinner with us, just us three, after Aaron is gone."

"Happy to do whatever I can, Mr. Christie. We'll get Aaron set up and off to a good start here."

Once we make it up to Ottawa, Dad parks the car in front of the apartment building on Argyle and looks over at where I'm going to be living. "Well, we made it. Now, let's test my key out here and have a look inside. Then we can start to slowly unpack," he says.

"'Hmmm'... better...much better than I thought it was going to be, boys. There is room for a good-size bed in here and that antique pine desk of your grandparents can go over there beside the fireplace. You have some built-in bookshelves in the wall there for your records, stereo equipment and books. The armoire will fit just fine beside the door into the bathroom. And you'll still have room for a drafting board and stool in front of that big window at the front. The TV can go on top of the chest and you'll be able to see it from the bed. Very good, indeed. "

"And, I want that red rug to go right in front of the fireplace, Dad. Thanks again for letting me have that," I say.

"Let's just get everything placed for now and you can set up the armoire and get everything fixed the way you want it when you come up just before September 12th when you start classes. Is that OK, son?" my Dad says.

"Yes Dad. I know this has been a long trip. Maybe Adam can help me with that stuff later on."

"Sure thing, Aaron. No problem with that!"

The ride back to Brockville is fairly uneventful. "Adam, you're driving back son. I have to admit, I'm not as young as I used to be and this day has been tiring for me. Are you good with that, son?" says my Dad.

"Yes, Mr. Christie, happy to drive back."

"Mr. Christie, if you don't mind, I'll swing around over to my place and you can drop me off there and then take over heading back home to your place. Is that OK with you?" Adam says, as he pulls of the 401 and starts to head down Stewart Boulevard, before turning right onto Pearl Street.

"Yes, son. Good idea."

"Adam, can I go to the bathroom at your place? I 'really' have to go." I say from the back seat.

"Sure thing, Aaron."

He throws his keys back to me and says, "I hafta' pick something up from Mr. and Mrs. Nicholson, so go on in. You know where the bathroom is."

"Thanks again for everything, Adam. Now remember, you come on over anytime you like, to see us and I was serious when I said we'll get together for dinner, once Aaron is up in Ottawa. I think Ava would really like that, son."

"Yes Mr. Christie. And thanks a lot for the meals and everything. I'll see you soon."

"Bye, Adam. I'll call you tomorrow at the store." I say, as Dad starts to drive away and head on home.

Adam unlocks his door and steps into his kitchen. "Fuck...I feel so alone and miss that damn kid already!" he says to himself. Then he looks up above the sink at his "Kiss the Cook" sign. "What the fuck!" he says out loud in complete surprise.

I've taken a piece of white cardstock and added the letters "i" and "e" to his sign, so it now says, 'Kiss the Cookie,' and right below it a note that just says, 'I love you, wookiee!"

"God, Aaron ... I love you too!" he says.