(no subject)

[lobelia321]

Title: Up Shit Creek
Part: 7/8
Author: Lobelia; lobelia321@aol.com
Other info: See Part 1/8

Things didn't seem so bad any longer, either. Karl had fucked off, that was true. But Billy was slowly getting dry. And he'd be able to scull this boat, no sweat. He could take his time over it. Maybe he'd even see some more dolphins. Maybe they'd come gambolling right around his boat. Billy applied himself to his sculling with revived vigour.

In fact, Billy was so intent on his sculling practice that he didn't hear the footfall on the beach. Billy was only intent on the plashing of his own oar in the water. He was also getting quite nice and warm from the exercise. He was really getting into it, in fact. With the next swivel, Billy actually laughed to himself with pleasure at getting the hang of this.

He looked up. There, on the beach, stood Karl.

Karl, his cap, his multi-pocketed jacket, his bag, his rod, and yes: an oar.

Billy froze, his own oar up out of the water.

"Hi," said Karl.

"What are you doing back?," said Billy.

"Nice welcome," said Karl. "You didn't really think I'd leave you here?"

"Hope springs eternal," said Billy. "What's that you've got there?"

"Yeah, isn't that choice? I found the other oar!" said Karl, brandishing said item.

"Wow, Karl!" cried Billy. He stowed his oar and jumped out of the boat, wading through the water up to Karl. He stared in disbelief at the oar in Karl's hand. He touched the oar in disbelief. Yep, it was really the oar. The oar that Billy had lost.

Karl was grinning, looking proud of himself. Well, smug. Looking smug. But he'd stopped looking like a bison in heat and just looked like silly old Karl again.

Billy was grinning, too. He didn't know why but he was. He tried to quieten the corners of his mouth, to pull them into submission, but they didn't obey and kept on quivering upwards.

"Guess what I saw?" Billy burst out. "I saw dolphins. Four of them! All in a row."

"Did you?" said Karl, and now he had that inscrutable expression on again, and his eyes were going all intense. "Yeah, you get them here sometimes."

"They were over there." Billy pointed. "They were jumping over the waves. Beautiful."

"Yeah," said Karl, and Billy had a funny feeling that Karl wasn't agreeing about the dolphins but about something else. Someone else. Billy looked down at himself and tugged at the bottom of the windcheater.

"Suits you," said Karl and grinned.

"So," said Billy, stepping from one wet foot to the other. "Will I have to have sex with you to get my hands on that paddle?"

"That would be nice," smiled Karl. Billy's ears started to burn. "But you were doing a good job there at sculling. I'm glad I came back when I did. Another few minutes, and you'd have been half-way across the river."

Billy's ears stopped burning.

"So are you going to jump me again?" asked Billy. A little shiver formed inside his guts.

"No, no fear," said Karl. "Never again."

The shiver in Billy's guts guttered and died.

Billy asked yet another question. He was beginning to feel like Little Red Riding Hood interrogating the Wolf. "And are you going to kiss me again?"

"Well..." said Karl, looking at Billy in that way, making Billy's knees tremble. "No. I promise."

Billy's knees stopped trembling.

Billy also felt a shaft of disappointment spear him down the middle. Where the irritation had been before, down the centre of his body and coiled up in his guts -- that was where the disappointment now was. Of all the ridiculous feelings to take the place of the irritation.

Karl stood there, in his bulky jacket and bare legs. Billy stood there, in Karl's windcheater and his own bare legs.

"You can if you want," said Billy. His knees started to tremble again.

"Oh," said Karl but didn't move.

"Well, go on then," said Billy.

"You'll just yell at me again," said Karl.

"Oh, don't be such a wuss!" yelled Billy.

Almost immediately, he was in Karl's arms.

Karl gathered Billy to his chest. The multi-pocketed coat fell slightly open, and Billy's face was pressed against Karl's bare chest and perilously close to those hard, stiff nipples. Karl's hands were on Billy's jaw, his thumb jutting into Billy's chin from below. Billy hated that but this was no time to quibble about trivialities, let's just get lips on lips and tongues on tongues and, oh yes, that was much better.

Billy was starting to get used to Karl's kissing. After all, it had only been, what, thirty minutes at most that he had last kissed Karl, wetly, drowningly, so this kiss on dry land was already an improvement. Karl was wagging his head again, true, but Billy grabbed Karl's hair, pushing off the baseball cap, and stopped him wagging. Karl's wet, stringy hair. And Karl still stretched his mouth open as wide as if he were a chick waiting to be fed by its robin parent, but somehow even that had ceased to bother Billy, a minor triviality, after all. Karl's tongue exploring the space between Billy's teeth and gums didn't bother Billy, either, because Billy was too busy exploring himself.

Billy explored, very softly, very methodically. Showing Karl how he liked it done. Billy swam around Karl's mouth. His tongue was like a little fish in a new aquarium. He darted along Karl's teeth, just skimming their knobbled enamel crowns. He crawled across the top of Karl's tongue, plumbing the tiny pores and nipples on its surface. He savoured the deep groan coming from the back of Karl's throat. Billy had that shiver deep down in his guts again, and he forgot all about not liking guys, and all about not liking Karl Urban.

The kiss was different from the ones before. It wasn't as fraught and frenzied as those earlier ones. It wasn't kissing-as-fighting. It was as if all that shouting and punching and stomping about had cleared the air. Billy's tongue was less tied. Karl's tongue was less anxious. They were both settling into the kiss in a more comfortable way, taking their time about it. They were using the kiss to get to know each other, and that was a new departure, because they hadn't really tried to get to know each other before. Not really.

Karl might have been a terrible kisser but he was a very active kisser. There just seemed to be a lot do when kissing Karl, fending off Karl's tongue and holding Karl's head and clicking teeth and feeling Karl's fingers wriggle all over the place and Karl's groin pushing against the windcheater. Karl's naked groin, mind. Karl's cock didn't feel quite as tiny as it had looked earlier on the beach. In fact, things were hotting up nicely, Billy was hotting up, Karl's mouth was warming him up, as were Karl's hands on him, Karl's arms around him and Karl's body against him.

Karl was grunting again. Billy's grunt receptor responded without fail. Well, at least it was nice and predictable to have such a clockwork mechanism going. Maybe there was something to be said for Karl's grunting after all.

The kiss was definitely spreading outwards from their mouths. Karl's hands were getting more and more active, they were restless, they were restlessly roving, roving over Billy's windcheater-covered back, and then roving under the windcheater and over Billy's bare back, and then roving downwards and over Billy's goosepimpled, bare buttocks, cupping them and kneading them, Billy giving a little involuntary moan, and then the hands started roving again, roving to the front of Billy's body, over Billy's belly, kneading Billy's belly under the windcheater.

Then one hand roved around the front and the other hand roved around the back, and then one solitary finger did the roving on its own, and Billy cried out into Karl's mouth as this finger entered him from behind.

Karl stopped kissing. His finger stopped roving.

"Is that okay?" said Karl.

Billy nodded, open-mouthed.

That nod sealed his fate. Billy had the vertiginous feeling that that nod was definitely sealing his fate. That nod was conceding to something, and Billy was dimly aware that that something was only the thin end of the wedge. And who knew where he'd end up before the day was out. He was entering uncharted waters here, Captain Cook on the wild blue seas.

Billy had never ever had anything stuck up his arse before. Nobody had ever stuck anything up it, not a doctor, not a lover, not a suppository-wielding mum, not even himself in a moment of masturbatory recklessness. Sticking things up his arse had just never been a part of Billy's erotic repertoire, and now Karl was slowly but surely sticking his finger up Billy's arse. The sensation of Karl's finger up his arse filled Billy's head so completely that there was no space left for the kiss.

"Oh," moaned Billy.

Billy stopped kissing, he just left his mouth hanging open. But Karl continued to kiss with alacrity. Karl seemed able to juggle all manner of activities at the same time because not only did he continue kissing and continue inserting his finger but his other hand also continued roving. It roved all the way up and down Billy's chest and belly, it roved across his nipples, hard and stiff but no longer hard and stiff with cold, hard and stiff with something else, and then Karl's hand roved across Billy's pubic hair, scratched Billy's curly pubes and Billy's hard and stiff and springy dick. Billy felt the back of Karl's hand against the inward side of his hard dick, and one of the velcro-stripped, zipped pockets of Karl's coat dug into the outward side of his hard dick. Billy used his hand to pull away Karl's coat and, eureka, now the outward side of Billy's dick was touching the outward side of Karl's cock.

"Oh God," moaned Billy. And Karl was grunting something, too, Billy didn't hear what, Billy could only hear the blood boiling in his own ears.

Because Karl was tall, their cocks touched at different levels. The top of Billy's dick nudged the bottom of Karl's cock. Billy could feel Karl's hard balls, giving slightly against Billy's hard dick, and he could feel the moisture at the top of his dick smearing against Karl's cock. So Billy reached up, Billy stood on tiptoes to reach Karl's cock, he moved the top of his moist dick against Karl's cock, against the marvellous length and heat of Karl's cock. Karl bent his knees slightly for better access, and now Billy's dick was slithering along the shaft of Karl's cock. The slithering, plus Karl's tongue around his teeth, plus Karl's hand against his pubes, plus Karl's finger up his arse, was almost enough to send Billy to that Alpine meadow again.

In fact, the meadow was coming into view. Billy could make out the cow grazing in the distance. He could just about hear the first faint tinkle of the cow's bell and glimpse the blinding blue of that Alpine sky...

...when Karl suddenly spoke into Billy's ear, and this is what he said:

"I've got condoms. Shall I get them?"

"Con... What?" gulped Billy.

The meadow receded, the cow receded, the tinkling died away in Billy's ear. Billy's dick collapsed.

Billy's dick collapsed. It no longer touched the back of Karl's hand nor did it slither along Karl's cock. It retreated into itself in sheer terror. Billy's dick, in short, was not used to such propositions. And Billy's arse winced in sympathy, winced around Karl's finger.

"Don't worry," Karl said immediately. "Forget what I said."

He attempted to kiss Billy again but Billy pulled away. Billy looked at Karl. Karl's eyes were the darkest he had ever seen them. They had lost all their slittiness, they were large and round and drawn-out at the edges, like an Egyptian Pharaoh's eyes. They were moist, too, as moist as the top of Billy's dick, moist and wild.

"No," Billy said. It came out all funny and gasping. Only one short syllable yet Billy could barely pronounce it. "No. Get them."

That was it. Fate sealed for sure. With that 'no', Billy had banged the lid shut on his fate. Or rather, the lid was off. The lid was off whatever Pandora's box had so far held in such desires in Billy's brain and Billy's life. The lid had been yanked right off; it was floating somewhere on the merry waves of Marlborough Sounds, chewed up by passing orca whales, while Billy was preparing to lose his virtue and his virginity on the depraved shores of this southern land.

"Really?" said Karl, and if the blood hadn't been burbling in Billy's ears he might have noticed that Karl's voice was just as ragged and gasping as Billy's own. "Really? Okay."

Karl attempted to move off, but Billy held on. Karl attempted to pull his finger out but Billy clenched his rectum around it. So they performed a strange little walk, joined at the hips, towards Karl's bag. Karl bent down, Billy bent down; with his free hand, Karl scrabbled round in his bag for what seemed like forever, but Billy wouldn't let go to speed matters up.

All of Billy's earlier irritation and rage -- in fact, weeks and weeks of pent-up irritation with Karl -- seemed to have morphed into one overwhelmingly gripping urge to keep a hold of Karl. With every movement and every scrabbling round in the bag, Karl's finger pulsed in Billy's arse; and with every pulse in Billy's arse, Billy opened his mouth to produce a gasp-moan; and with every gasp-moan produced by Billy, Karl lost his balance somewhat and swayed, and all of these chain reactions just slowed down Karl's scrabblings even more.

After about seven decades of scrabbling and gasp-moaning and pulsing, Karl had found what he'd been scrabbling for. He dragged the items out of the bottom of the bag -- interesting, that they was at the bottom of the bag which meant that Karl must have packed these items first, before packing anything else, but this was a thought that only flitted briefly across Billy's brain. Karl dragged out the items, spilling towels and ziplock bags and sandwiches, binoculars and maps and suntan lotion, penknives, torches, chocolate tortes and five-course meals in the process.

They were both still half-bent, down on their haunches amid the innards of Karl's bags. Instead of straightening up, they lowered themselves further, until Karl was sitting in the sand and Billy was sitting in Karl's lap, and now their cocks and their balls were touching head-on, Billy's dick still small, still terrified, and Karl's cock huge, enormous, of epic proportions. Or so it seemed to Billy, now that he knew what was going to happen with it. At the thought of that huge, enormous, epically-proportioned cock inside him, Billy almost passed out.

Karl jolted him back to consciousness with a question:

"Shall I turn around?"

"What, turn around, why?" stammered Billy. "Oh, I see. But I thought that you..."

"I thought you didn't..."

Apparently, he wasn't going to have to suffer Karl's huge, enormous cock inside him. Apparently, things were going to be the other way round. Karl was going to turn around, and Billy was going to put the condom on, and there was going to be none of Karl's cock inside Billy.

TBC