His eyes widen and he looks a little panicked. “Oh, well, I didn’t. I mean, I haven’t really had sex yet. Not with a girl and not with a guy either. Just blowies and hand jobs.”
Blowies.Must be a regional term. I’ll forgive him. “Never?” I ask, hardly able to contain my delight. To think that I might be the one to introduce sweet Adam to the pleasures of sex.
“I grew up in a pretty small town. I wasn’t out until senior year, and even then…”
“Even then?”
“Most of the guys I knew were straight. Or that’s what they wanted everyone to believe.”
But I bet they weren’t so straight when it came to Beautiful Adam. And where would a hunky jock like Adam get some man-on-man action? In the locker room? Behind the bleachers? In the baseball dugout after the crowds have dispersed?
“So, baseball,” I prompt.
“Yeah.”
“What position did you play?”
“Outfielder. I wasn’t very good, but it was what all the guys in my town did, so I did it too.”
A follower. A team player. A boy who just wants to fit in, be accepted, be adored.
“Did your older brother play?”
“Yeah, he was a pitcher, a really good one too, but he blew out his shoulder his last year of high school, and it was never the same after that.”
“What’s he do now?”
“He’s an electrician in Pigeon Forge. Makes pretty good money at it too. He wanted me to apprentice with him but…” His eyes dart away, looking ashamed but I cannot imagine why. I’m extremely good at reading facial expressions, as it is something of a survival skill for me. His reaction puzzles me.
“But?” I prompt.
“I needed to get away from my hometown. Besides, it’s a lot to remember, what wire goes where, and I don’t always have the best concentration.”
“It would be a pity for a man as lovely as you to accidentally electrocute himself.”
He laughs at my teasing. “Yeah, I think so too.”
We drift into silence while Adam plays with the water, making tiny waves crash over his pectorals to stimulate his nipples. There are a few freckles dusted across his shoulders, so faint I’d need to be closer to really investigate. His lower lip protrudes, flush from the heat, scarlet mouth parted like a bloom tempting a bee to rob it. He doesn’t seem to realize his own sex appeal. Maybe because he was raised by two straight men and didn’t have anyone in his small town to properly worship him. No wonder he turned to social media for validation.
“What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done for money?” I ask. He suddenly grins as if embarrassed and crosses one arm over his head so I can’t see his face. “That bad?”
“You’re going to think I’m a slut,” he groans.
I sincerely hope so.
“How could I think you’re a slut when you’re still a virgin?”
He peeks out at me from under his elbow. “Promise you won’t judge me?”
I will absolutely judge him, at least in my mind, but I raise my right hand. “I swear on my mother’s grave.”
He licks his lips, then tugs at the bottom one again. No wonder Elliot is so infatuated with him. He could vaporize panties with his mouth alone.
“All right,” he says at last, “Senior year, we were at this baseball tournament in Gatlinburg, and my roommate and I were bored and horny, so I offered to blow him. He was cute, and I kinda had a crush on him since sophomore year. Anyway, he rounded up a couple of the other guys and invited them to our hotel room and then I just sort of blew them for whatever cash they had on them.”
Thankfully I’m on drugs or my sudden surge of elation might seem inappropriate. I picture the scene in my head, Adam’s opportunistic friend acting as pimp for the night, for laughs or because of teenage boredom. Maybe even to humiliate baby gay Adam if he’s the type to be mean. A bunch of young, dumb jocks lining up for their turn at Adam’s hot mouth, stroking themselves while the guys ahead get their rocks off, squeezing their sweaty, cum-filled sacs so they don’t orgasm before it’s their turn at bat.
“How much money did you make?” I ask.
