Just A Tuesday Afternoon

by Ms. C. Mouse

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/13053.html)

Eric wasn’t surprised to find the front door ajar and the key in the lock when he returned home from school. His brother Jon was such an airhead. The kid was in 8th grade now, but he couldn’t scrape together enough common sense to take care of himself. Obnoxiously loud cartoon sound effects assaulted Eric’s ears as he entered the house, making his shoulders tense. Removing the key and shutting the door behind him, he told himself to keep thinking about graduating in June and moving away to college.

On most afternoons, Eric went directly to his part time job instead of coming home first. Unfortunately for him, his boss, who happened to be his aunt, had given him the evening off so Eric’s mother and father could meet up for a romantic dinner after work. Karen – Eric and Jon’s sixteen year old sister – usually watched Jon if their parents were going to be late, but she had already made plans to go to a movie with her friends and hang out at the mall afterwards. It was obvious to Eric that the whole family was conspiring against him.

So, here he was, stuck babysitting on Valentines Day; although he would have said it didn’t matter to him, if anyone had bothered to ask. It was just another day, as far as he was concerned. He never considered himself the romantic sort, and he was usually too busy studying or working to chase after girls. At least, that was what he liked to tell his parents when they would attempt to question him about his “social” life. After being fed that line, they would smile and gush about how proud they were of him and all his hard work. Before long, they would move on to some other topic.

He sniffed the air; the house smelled like warm butter. Shrugging off his jacket, he hung it up in the closet near the door. As he walked into the family room, he found his brother, Jon, fast asleep on the sofa in front of the television. There were flecks of popcorn on the cushions and two empty microwave bags on the floor. He also noticed that Jon’s hands were shiny. Eric considered rousing the little pig and telling him to clean up the mess, but he didn’t want to deal with his brother right now. He snorted in disgust before pulling the blanket that was draped across the back of the couch over his brother. They had the whole evening ahead of them. Why start off with an argument?

Eric shook his head as he turned towards the kitchen. Although he hated to let his lazy brother off the hook so easily, he admitted to himself that Jon’s nap had a positive side. Because Jon was asleep, Eric didn’t have to deal with any of his brother’s friends. Most of them were snotty little jerks, in his opinion. He swore that it would be only the two of them tonight, since he refused to watch over a houseful of other people’s brats. The only exception would be for Timothy. If Jon started to whine, then Eric would allow Timothy to come over for a few hours. Timothy was cool for a fifteen year old; he always had a good attitude and Eric never felt like he had to talk down to him. Eric smiled. He might actually be able to have an intelligent conversation with someone if Timothy spent a few hours over here. That would be a change of pace. How Timothy ended up as Jon’s friend was a total mystery, although Eric was thankful that his brother had at least one respectable acquaintance.

He thought about dinner as he entered the kitchen and opened up the refrigerator. It needed to be something simple that didn’t require too much preparation or clean up. Hell, maybe he would just order a pizza. That would make Jon happy.

After closing the refrigerator, he stopped and looked up at the ceiling. He held his breath for a moment and listened carefully. He was sure that he had heard someone moving around upstairs just now. Was there someone else in the house besides him and Jon? Karen’s bedroom was above the kitchen. She often complained that someone kept entering her room and messing with her stuff. She had even begged to put a padlock on her door; however, Mom and Dad wouldn’t let her go that far. Jon had declared again and again that he wasn’t involved and that he knew nothing about it.

On the way to the stairs, Eric picked up one of Jon’s baseball bats. Although he was six feet tall, he decided that it might help to have some kind of weapon if it turned out to be someone bigger than one of Jon’s dorky friends. When he reached the top of the stairs, he immediately noticed Karen’s bedroom door. It wasn’t closed. Karen always kept her door shut, insisting on her privacy, even if she wasn’t in the room.

Creeping up to the doorway, he listened intently. Eric’s fingers tighten around the bat; someone was in Karen’s room. He couldn’t see who was in there, but he could hear breathing. All he needed to do was move forward and peek around the door.

Oh shit! He hadn’t expected this. If it had been anyone else, he would have chased the trespasser downstairs with a few choice obscenities and a threatening swing of the bat. But at this moment, he was at a complete loss as to what to do next.

Eric was seeing red – as in red lingerie. The intruder obviously didn’t realize that he was being watched as he stood in front of a full length mirror while wearing a bright red pair of Karen’s panties and a matching camisole. The scary thing was that they actually fit, because the kid was slim and on the short side. Shoulder length blond hair and a slight figure were an immediate give away. It was Timothy.

Timothy huffed and moaned as he rubbed himself. The panties were tented and there was already a wet spot near the waist band. As Eric continued to spy on Timothy, warmth flooded his crotch, and he cringed when he realized that he was getting hard. This shouldn’t be happening, he told himself as he reached down in to adjust himself to a more comfortable position. How could this be? The kid was only about six months older than his little brother. He thought about backing up and making some noise so that Timothy would know he was in the house, but he hated to spoil the moment. Timothy looked so sexy right now, with his face flushed and his legs trembling. The kid was about to come in Karen’s panties, and it disturbed Eric that he kept trying to think of a way to turn this to his own advantage.

Eric made up his mind as Timothy’s movements became more frantic. He crossed the threshold; there was a soft click as he leaned back against the door. It felt like the room was tilting on him for a moment, and he found that he was holding his breath. He hoped that Timothy would be too busy to notice his approach, but Timothy’s eyes must have caught the movement behind him in the mirror.

With a sharp cry, Timothy dropped to his knees and covered his head. “Don’t hit me! Oh my god. Don’t hit me. I’m sorry. Oh god, I’m sorry.” Eric had forgotten all about the bat in his hands. He looked at it, as if to ask why the hell he was still holding this stupid thing, before he tossed it onto Karen’s bed. He covered the distance between him and Timothy in two strides. Timothy probably would have continued his breathless pleading and groaning if Eric hadn’t cupped his left hand over Timothy’s mouth as he pulled the fifteen year old towards him with his right arm.

Eric knelt on the carpet, pressing his chest against Timothy’s back. His hands were shaking, and he wondered if he was holding on too tightly; nonetheless he wanted to pull Timothy even closer. Blond hair, soft and clean, brushed against Eric’s face when he brought his mouth close to Timothy’s ear. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered. “I want…” His throat felt so tight that he had to swallow before he could continue. “I want to talk to you.” Was that a grunt of dismay or surprise that his hand muffled? At least Timothy wasn’t trying to escape. “I’ll take my hand away if you can be quiet.” After what seemed to him like several minutes, Timothy finally nodded. Eric lowered his hand and let it rest on Timothy’s throat.

Timothy sniffled quietly and wiped his eyes. “When I saw the bat, I thought you were angry with me for… for doing something so disgusting in your sister’s room.”

Eric froze momentarily when he heard Timothy’s voice crack. “No, I wasn’t angry. I was just surprised to find you here. So, why did you sneak into the house?” His stupid curiosity really needed a kick in the ass.

“I didn’t sneak in. Jon let me in. He said that no one else would be home until later this evening and that he had the house to himself. He said he was going to invite some other friends, but he fell asleep on the couch.”

Eric chuckled. “That’s figures. If it doesn’t involve baseball, Jon forgets things really easily. Okay, but why Karen’s room? You like Karen?”

“Are you going to tell Karen about this?”

“I think we can keep this our secret.”

Again there was a pause that left Eric imagining all sorts of answers. Timothy’s chin dropped to rest against Eric’s hand. “I…well, you see…I know I’m not her type. She ignores me when I’m over here. I think she’s pretty and all, but I don’t like her in that way.” Eric couldn’t believe how relieved he felt when he heard Timothy say that. Maybe he had a chance.

“You like dressing up?” Eric’s voice deepened as he murmured in Timothy’s ear.

“No, I like silk. I remember finding a silk scarf in my mom’s closet. It felt good when I rubbed it on my face and neck.”

“Didn’t take long to figure out that it feels good on other parts of the body, right?” He was surprised that Timothy wanted to talk about this, although the kid had always been comfortable talking with him about many different subjects.

Timothy squirmed in his arms. “Ah…I…yes, exactly. Jon and I were in here one time, looking for a diary, pictures, anything that might be good for a laugh. That’s when I found the lingerie. I kept coming back to look at it. I wanted to wear it, even though I knew it would look stupid. I’ll go home now and wash everything and then…”

Eric’s hand tightened on the teenager’s throat. “No! I mean no, you don’t look stupid. You look delicious. I want to taste you. May I touch you? Please let me.” The words rushed out of his mouth before he could stop them. He wasn’t sure what he would do if Timothy said no. His hand stroked Timothy’s neck slowly, down to his chest and then back up to his jaw several times. Timothy’s pulse was a staccato tapping under his fingertips. He didn’t want to think about it; yet the idea of forcing Timothy to give him what he wanted made his stomach twist. Already, he was becoming overwhelmed by desire and self-loathing.

“Yes,” said Timothy. Eric closed his eyes as he let his forehead rest against the back of Timothy’s skull. It felt like he was falling a great distance. Had Timothy actually said ‘yes,’ or was that just the wind hissing in his ear?

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Timothy’s fingers brushed over the knuckles of Eric’s right hand.

It’s okay. He wants this. Eric continued to run those thoughts through his mind as his right hand drifted downward to touch Timothy through the smooth red panties. The kid had been scared enough to wilt. As he moved the palm of his hand over Timothy’s cock, he could feel it twitch and start to firm up again. He pressed open mouth kisses along Timothy’s shoulders, while lightly scraping his teeth over the younger teen’s skin. Before long, Timothy was fully aroused once more.

Eric pushed him to the floor, grateful that Timothy did not try to scuttle away from him. An overwhelming sense of power charged up his senses when he looked down on someone being open and vulnerable below him. It encouraged his belief that he was in control of the situation, even if it was just an illusion. Jon could wake up at any moment. Karen could come back to the house to get something. There was no time to waste. It wasn’t safe here, but somehow that just added spice to the whole situation.

Eric spread Timothy’s legs. Without a word, he pressed his lips to the tented red silk, as he licked and sucked him through the panties. The smell of an aroused male body, and what ever flowery laundry soap Karen had used to wash the panties, filled his nose. Eric wrapped his arms around Timothy’s legs as the teen’s hips bucked spasmodically. He grinned, gaining some confidence from the obvious display of Timothy’s enthusiasm.

Needless to say, Timothy wouldn’t last long if he kept going at it like that. Eric’s tongue glided over the covered tip one more time, tasting the salty, bitter fluid that had wet the panties. With his fingertips pressed into the lean muscles of Timothy’s legs, Eric could feel him tremble and flex.

Instinct told him that it was time to get to the main event. Sitting up, he looked over at Karen’s dressing table and spotted a bottle of baby oil. That would have to do. Leaning on one hand, he reached out, grabbed the bottle and set it down next to him.

Timothy’s eyes were closed and his hands clutched the fabric of the camisole. For a few jealous seconds, Eric wondered if the kid had been imagining Karen, or even Jon, giving him a blowjob. He pulled back the narrow waistband of the panties just enough to free Timothy’s cock, although he continued to allow the fabric to rub everywhere else as he dragged the panties down Timothy’s legs.

Eric hesitated; there was only a slight amount of blond hair between Timothy’s legs, and it made the kid look too young. Damn it, he’d gone this far with out Timothy pushing him away. His body screamed at him to stop thinking, and start doing what it wanted.

Timothy’s eyes opened wide as Eric unzipped, and pushed his slacks and boxers towards his knees. He blinked at Eric’s hard on. Eric hoped that the look of astonishment on the other boy’s face was because he liked what he saw. “What are you –” began Timothy, although he stopped abruptly of as if he were afraid to say anything more. Eric flipped open the top of the bottle and dribbled some oil on his palm. Snapping the cap closed, he set the bottle aside. As he moved his hand over his cock, the cloying scent of the perfumed oil filled the room.

Timothy’s hands fisted and the muscles in his arm tensed up. Eric reached down to push Timothy’s legs farther apart and he immediately felt the other teen resisting him.

Timothy looked at him wide- and wild-eyed. “No, don’t. It’ll hurt. I don’t want that.”

“Don’t want what?”

“Don’t put it in me.”

Eric groaned. “Shh, okay, it’s okay, we’re going to do something else.”

Timothy’s mouth turned down. “Do what?”

Eric didn’t explain; he let his body show what it desired. He was panting now, and he didn’t feel like explaining as he positioned himself.

As he rubbed himself against Timothy’s smooth firm body, the thought of pressing into him was nearly enough to send him over the edge. The way their cocks were sliding past and against each became the focus of his world. His clothes chafed him, but he didn’t care. His elbows and knees were getting raw from shifting against the carpet, but he didn’t care.

Eric moved faster. Nothing else mattered right now. He shivered with an intense jolt of pleasure as Timothy’s hands swept up and down his back. So damn close now. He just needed release. When Timothy squeezed his ass and thrust up against him, Eric felt moist warmth spread over his belly. He let himself put all his weight on Timothy as he climaxed, only seconds after him.

All he could hear was his labored breathing and the pounding of his own heart. As the intense pleasure faded, he knew that he needed to get up and get dressed; but his body didn’t want to cooperate. With a groan, he pushed himself away from the comfort of Timothy’s body. The fear of being caught had almost the same effect as his alarm clock going off in the morning. There were things that needed to be done, no matter how much he’d like to stay in bed. Snagging some tissues from a box on the night stand, he wiped Timothy clean before taking care of himself.

Once he had his boxers and slacks back up, Eric glanced around Karen’s room. At least there wasn’t a wet spot on the carpet. He gathered up the tissues, placed them in the waste basket and set the bottle of baby oil back on the dressing table. However, something was wrong. It occurred to him that it wouldn’t do to leave evidence lying around, since Karen was already suspicious before now. She would notice all the extra tissues. As he removed the plastic bag that lined the waste can and tied the top up, he knew that he must remember to put a new one in prior to Karen’s return.

He stopped his cleaning to watch Timothy. The kid was sitting up now, trying to find his clothes, but his slow movements and the way he stopped to stare at the floor made him appear very sleepy and vulnerable. He would give anything to be able to carry Timothy off to bed and snuggle up to him, go at it again with him, using a slower pace. The more he thought about it, the more he frowned. Not tonight, he told himself in frustration. So, Eric gathered up the clothes and set them in Timothy’s lap.

Timothy gazed at the clothes for a number of seconds before mumbling a quiet ‘thank you.’ He looked so confused that Eric found himself wanting to cradle him in his arms, but there wasn’t time for that. He took the sweat shirt and slid Timothy’s arms into the sleeves.

“Oh, wait,” Timothy protested softly, “I’m still wearing the camisole.”

Eric ignored him as he positioned the neck opening and tugged the shirt into place. “It’s yours now.” Timothy must have realized where this was going, because he tried to put on his boxers next; still, he wasn’t moving quickly enough as far as Eric was concerned. Eric snatched them away. Turning them right side out, he forced Timothy’s feet into the openings. “Stand up.” As Eric moved the boxers upward, he used the opportunity to caress Timothy’s legs one more time. Now that the boxers were in place, Eric stood up and circled around behind Timothy.

“I’ll keep the panties,” said Eric, before handing over Timothy’s jeans. Timothy wobbled a bit as he put in one leg and then the other. The kid looked like he was drunk. Eric steadied him by placing his hands on Timothy’s shoulders. As Timothy zipped and buttoned the jeans, Eric said, “You should leave before Jon wakes up.”

When he was done jamming his feet into his loosely tied running shoes, Timothy staggered toward the bedroom door, with his head bowed. Eric was right behind him. “Okay, okay, don’t push me anymore. I’m leaving already. Anyways, I can tell you hate me now.”

Eric had never heard Timothy’s voice sounding so bitter. He took hold of Timothy’s arm and turned him around. “I! What? You think I hate you? I just have to be… careful. I… we can’t let anyone know about this. Oh damn it.” The tears welling up in Timothy’s eyes were too much. Eric wrapped his arms around him in a tremendous bear hug that lifted the teenager’s feet off the floor. “I don’t hate you, Timothy. I don’t hate you.” Seconds turned into minutes; nevertheless, Eric continued to hold him. He listened to the occasional sob, which was soon joined by a sporadic hiccup.

When Timothy was finally quiet, Eric reluctantly set him down. “I didn’t hurt you did I?” Timothy shook his head, yet he still wouldn’t look him in the eye. Eric placed his hands on either side of Timothy’s face and tilted it up. “Please don’t hide from me,” he whispered, “I want to see you again.”

Timothy’s smile was faint, yet it was there none the less. “I won’t hide. I promise.”

“Good. Now go home and get cleaned up.” Timothy nodded once, before kissing Eric on the cheek and then bolting through the doorway.

Eric listened to him descend the staircase. There was a soft whoosh as the front door was quickly opened and closed. Stepping over to the window, he opened it up so the cold air of the approaching evening could clear out the scent of sex and baby oil. It was fortunate that he never had any reason to visit his sister when she was in her room; he was certain that he’d be sporting wood just by remembering what went on in here today.

The baseball bat, the panties and the plastic bag were in his hand when he left Karen’s room and closed the door behind him. Grinning like a fool, he made his way to the bathroom to take a shower. Valentines Day, he mused to himself, would never be just another day, after this.

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