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Yves’ Drops

2267 words | 0 |3.40

“Shuck!” That’s what it sounded like, when the roofers scraped the shingles off the roof next door. Then, “Flap!” They fell off in between our houses. I looked, and saw some of them hanging over the fence, a lot of them landed in our side yard, which pissed my dad off.

So, I went up to the attic, and you know what? The shingles are pretty old, and messed up on this side, too. “Shuck! Pap!”

Huh, maybe if they came over here, and shucked our roof off, I could get a better look, but it’s still early, and it hasn’t gotten hot yet. They still have their shirts on, so I can’t see their muscles flex, and stuff. When they push the snow shovel up under the shingles, then pick them up, and pitch them over their shoulders, to glide down, and hit the ground, or the fence, or even a window.

Another window, down-stairs, but up here, we didn’t need any plywood up to protect them, from flying shingles. I used to pretend it was a jungle, and peek out through the vines to pretend to discover a new temple, when I was a little boy.

Now, I guess I’m a little older, and imagining more grown up things. Like them taking a break, and kicking back on the bare plywood. Talking about the cute boy next door, instead of their wives, the hot mom power-walking bye in her sports bra, with her cute little weights, and her ear-buds.

Getting hard, and talking dirtier, and dirtier. “Yeah, you like bowjobs, huh? Yeah, I like bowjobs too, huh, huh! yeah, why don’t you come on over here, in your tight jeans, and get that hard prick out, where i can see it. Smell it, feel how hard it is, and suck it. Mh, mhn!”

I guess it’s a little childish, sucking my thumb, but if I could bend over far enough, like I can in my dreams. Well, I wouldn’t need a man, as much. I guess, I can handle it myself, but it doesn’t hurt to look. I have to laugh a little, knowing that if they could see me through the ivy, and they knew that i was whacking off, watching them work.

They’d know I was a fag, and probably come over to beat me up. Yeah, I heard them talk about, guys like me, and how disgusting it is. Joking about one fag going to the shower, to find the other one already blew a load all over the curtain, and getting hurt.

“You started without me?”

“No, I just farted.”

“Hhuhahah!” It’s funny. “It’s okay, we don’t have to do any butt stuff.”

No need to hurry. I mean, as long as I have them here, I’m not in any hurry to blow it, so I have to wait to get it up again. I can wait, catch my breath, and start slowly pumping back up. Building up the pressure, and teasing myself, for hours now.

When i first started, I couldn’t wait to get that feeling again, the orgasm, but that just ruins it. Unless I don;t have the time, or I have to pee, or if I spend the whole period in the restroom. Playing with myself, and drawing hard hairy dicks on the walls to look at, then the teacher would know something was up, and stop letting me go so I don’t miss every lesson.

He just looks so good, standing up there, and you know that dream where you’re up at the front of the class, and everyone starts laughing? You don’t know why until you turn around, and see them pointing down. So, you look down, and forgot to put on pants or underwear that morning.

You’d think you’d feel a chill, or your parents would say something when you came downstairs half naked, or ran out to the bus stop with your nuts swinging in the wind. The whole way to school, or when he first looked up from taking roll call.

“Johannesson, Yves.”


“Where’s your pants?”

“Huh, HUH!” Too late, I had to let go of my twitching balls, and cup my hand, to catch the hot wet sticky splashes. “HhuhHhH! Whew!” Slurp! “Huh!”

I should have known, that would be too much. Just imagining him looking down, and seeing my pecker underneath the desk. Even with my pants on, with such a boner for him, so then he smiles, and stands up. Behind his desk, in front of the class, to show off his big hard hairy pecker, but with a boner just for me.

“Huh?” Where’d they go? I shake my head, and reach out to move some of the leaves out of the way, but sure enough, there all gone. Close my eyes, and take a long deep breath of Ivy, pulling up my underpants, and then my pants to zip, and button up.

Careful not to pull any of the vines out of the siding, the sill, or the shingles, so I can climb through them. Well, maybe if I did, rip them all up, then the roof would leak, and daddy’d have to call the roofers to scrape, and patch the old shingles.

Of course, I’d get in trouble for getting out on the roof, and breaking the shingles, but it’s not like he’d spank me for it. He’d probably ground me, so i’d have to watch them from my window, but really that would clear the Ivy away, so I can’t look through it, jacking off.

“Huh?” Oh, it’s just the ladder, shaking, and hitting the gutter around the corner. The roofer, just one coming back with his tool bag over his shoulder. Just like yesterday, he has to get out a screwdriver, and the needlenose to pull all the staples out, only this time it’s on this side. So he has to turn around, and squat down.

So, his pants pull tight over his rear, and normally, I hate feeling invisible here, but if he knew I was watching, maybe he’d be a little more conscious about his shirt pulling up in back. The heavy belt pulling his pants down, and the crack showing. I just want to stick my finger down there, and wiggle it around. Feel how hot, soft, and sweaty his butt cheeks are, wrapped around my finger, until it gets hard again.

Yeah right, I don’t just want to stick my finger down there, any more than i want Mister Johnson to just stand up, drop his pants, and show everyone his boner for me. I can see a little bulge down at the bottom, too. Maybe it’s his balls, and maybe his dickhead is curled down between them. I can;t tell from here, but it’s a little closer, and I can kick back on the roof. Enjoying the view, and thinking about what i’m going to think about when I go back in. To whack off again, but I can wait.

It’s getting hot up here, and it’s not just me. Why don’t you go ahead and take that shirt off, before it gets any sweatier? “Snh?” My fingers still stink of ball sweat, and I need to clip my nails. There’s a little piece of hair under one of them, for me to pick out, and scrape the edge against my teeth.

I bite my nails, which makes them rough, but I can always borrow one of mom’s emery boards, to sand them down. Before i drop my pants, butter up my crack, and go exploring again. I don;t know if I want to do it, for real. I mean, maybe I’m not ready to go, all the way yet, I’m still pretty tight, but I’m starting to losten up. it’s getting easier, and easier, it barely even hurts if I’m careful, and I remember to do my nails again.

No, not like a girl, they have long nails, remember? I’m not some tranny trap, trying to fool straight guys into going to bed with me, only to beat me up, and throw me out when they see the big surprise.

Well, maybe not that big, but it’ll get bigger. “Huh!” Maybe I’m just a little scared to be with a man, a real man, with a real big dick, before i’m ready. No matter how good looking they may be. Big, and strong, and sweaty, i don;t want to get hurt, for real, but at the same time, the fantasy is such an exciting thrill, and I know I’m not going to fall off the roof neither, but then again, the danger is always there.

it is, such a long way down, but it’s like falling in love. “Huh!” It’s easy, and it’s going to hurt, but he’s already broken my heart, so what do i have to lose? He’s married, and straight, and my teacher. There’s so many reasons not to get involved with me, let alone show me how much he loves me right there in front of everyone in class, but.

“Oh, huh!” He turned around, “I didn’t see you over there.”

Smile, “I know.” Stop biting your nails. “Don’t mind me.”

“Watching me work? You be careful up there now.”

“Of course, I’m far enough back, that even if I start sliding, I’ll have plenty of time to catch myself, before I fall.”

“Nothing on TV?” He pulls out a pack of cigarettes, and unfolds the foil from one end, to tap them out on the side of his hand, tuck all but one back, and straighten it out, before tucking it in his mouth.

“Nothing interesting.” Smile.

“Huh,” lighting up, he takes a drag, and drops the lighter back in his tool bag, right next to the pack of smokes. “Whatever you find interesting about pulling staples.” He feels around, for the green handles of his needlenose, and pulls out the flat screwdriver to go with it. “Suit yourself.”

“Well, it’s not so much pulling the staples as seeing what’s underneath. First the shingles, and then the rafters once you. Oh, well I don’t guess you’d bother with the staples if you’re gonna pull the plywood, too.”

“Huh,” he shakes his head, but bent over like that, with his pants pulled tight, and his back turned. He’s starting to get a rise out of me, and the conversation. Actually getting to know each other. “You really must like construction a lot, to look up words, like rafters, and. Uh.” He shrugged, shook his head, and pried out another staple.

I had to laugh, “Doesn’t everybody know what Rafters are?”

“Not my daughter, I guess she’s a little younger than you.” He shrugged, “You’d think she’d pick that sort of thing up, you know. With her old man… She doesn’t listen to me, I guess that’s it?”

“I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know much about girls, at all.”

“Huh.’ He looked back. “I guess you’re a bit of a tomboy.”

“Huh? Ahahuhehihn! No. I’m not a girl, why. Do I come off as girly?”

“Oh, man. I’m sorry, I really am.”

“No problem.”

“I guess, what with all the kids these days. My daughter has this friend, and she’s got a haircut like that. You know, short in the back, long up front. No offense.”

“Well, I guess unisex haircuts are a little more popular nowadays.” I try not to get offended, but way to ruin the mood, man. I should have kept my mouth shut, but once again. Once i get to know him a little better, I don’t like what I see, quite so much.

“Hey, if you don’t mind me asking, what kinda name is Eve for a boy, anyway?”

“Danish.” I just climbed back in.

“Hey, Yves?” I stop, take a deep breath, and turn back to the curtain of leaves I just climbed through.


“You think, she might be a lesbian?”

“I don’t even know her!”

“Well, maybe you could come over, and talk to her, tonight?” He sounds worried. “I bet she’d like a boy like you.”

“Huh!” Come over, to your place, for dinner? “Sure.” I guessed. “Let me go take a shower.”

What are you doing? You know he’s not interested in you, he’s married, and the way he’s trying to set you up with his daughter, in the hopes of making her straight, probably more than a little homophobic, too.

On the other hand, you know that he’s going to be hot, and sweaty in the car, and if he gives me a ride, i can sit close enough to smell him. “No,” you know that if you do that, you’ll just start to have feelings for him, and this is such a bad idea, I can;t believe you’re even considering such a thing. Setting yourself up for such a heartbreak, but then again.

What if she is, gay? Think about that, you know there’s nobody else at your school that can even begin to know what it’s like, to be gay, and not even have anyone to talk to about it. I feel so alone, and being around the boys makes me feel even more alone, when I know that if i even talk about my feelings, it’ll only mean getting punches to the arms, and made fun of, but if they ever even suspected how i really feel, then they might never want to be around me ever again.

“Yeah,” I bet she feels like that too. “I’ll do it. But,” what should I wear?

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