Checking Out the Friends

By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
Artwork (c) 2002 by Vitaly

Illustration of Checking Out the Friends


At 6:20p.m., Rick was halfway home when he got the call. He looked at the number, hell, his wife! What did she have to say that couldn't wait ten minutes until he got home? Probably wanted him to pick her up some Tampons or shit! Didn't she know he hated buying women things? "What is it?" he growled in lieu of hello.


"Yeah, it's me." Hell, Abby had him on her speed dial, couldn't she guess it'd be him answering his goddamned cell?

"You need to stop off at Marty's house, he's a friend of Steve's, and check him out."

"Check him out?" Rick was incredulous. His wife wanted him to visit the house of a friend of his six-year-old son's? "What am I checking out?"

"He's spending a lot of time with Marty, and wants to invite him on a sleepover."

"So what's the problem?"

"The problem is, what kind of home does Marty come from? For all I know, his family are a bunch of crackheads, and Marty will steal everything that's not nailed down! Or if they're religious, you'll know to watch your language extra careful around Marty...."

"That's a bunch of crock!" Rick snarled. "God, you going to start picking Steve's friends for him now?" How did a construction worker like him get hooked up with a wife like Abby, anyhow? Did she even understand that a boy had to have some hard knocks in his life or he'd grow up to be a complete pussy? A rough-and-tumble buddy at his age now could teach Steve lessons he'd use the rest of his life, and she wanted to protect Steve from that, using him? No fucking way!

"It's not that way at all, but we need to know." Abby nattered on.

"So why don't you go?" Rick wanted to know.

"I have to work late at the office." his wife told him. "Mrs. Wedderly is keeping Steve until you can get home. But Steve wants Marty to come over tomorrow night, so we have to check on him tonight. You can spend ten minutes with his mother or father and find out what they're like, can't you?"

"All right, all right!" Hell, Rick had planned on stopped off for a cold brew, and now he had to go act friendly with some strange broad. What did women do with their lives that they could even think of such things. He decided that, unless Marty's parents were complete wackoes, he was going to give Abby a glowing report on Marty's home life. His son deserved to pick his own friends! "Give me the fucking address."

Good thing he had a GPS in his pickup, he punched in the address as she gave it to him. It wouldn't be a lot out of his way home, he'd only get home a quarter hour late. He stomped the mud of the construction site off his boots and knocked on the front door while he checked his watch for the time. Righ at 6:30 p.m. Fuck! He'd make this visit quick as he could!

* * * * *


Dave pulled up to the house at 6:30 p.m. So this was the house his son Marty's friend Steve lived in? Not bad. Marty had told him that Steve's father worked construction. As an oil rig hand himself, Dave figured they'd have plenty in common, so when Jennifer mentioned checking out Steve's family, he'd volunteered to be the one to do it. If he and Steve's dad hit it off, he could make some contacts in the construction field, he was ready to get off of the off-shore oil rigs. You spent more'n half your time perched on a small square piece of metal in the middle of the ocean, and when you came home, you could just see the signs your wife was fucking around on you. Things like cigarette butts in his ashtrays (Jennifer smoke, but those stupid slender feminine cigarettes, not the Marlboro stubs he kept finding. She'd come in, see the ashtray's butts, and hurriedly grab it and run it to the trashcan in the kitchen, like he hadn't seen it yet. Well, if he could get work on land, he'd give up the life and divorce the bitch. But he hated to make Marty a two-home kid, he'd hated that when he was a teenager, and Marty was even younger than he'd been when his father left. So maybe they could get counseling, depends on how much Jennifer was screwing around....

And he knocked on Steve's door, a brawny oilrig deckhand fully the size of Rick, though with hair the same brown color as his son Marty's.

* * * * *


The kid that answered the door was Steve's age. "Hey, there, you must be Marty." he said.

"Yes, sir." Marty answered.

"I'm Rick, Steve's father. Is your mother or father home?"

Marty shook his head. "No, sir. Dad's out, I think he went to visit you at your house."

Rick had to grin at that. "Well, he isn't going to find me there, is he?" Well, the man could talk to his wife and meet Steve.

"And Mom took off with some guy." Marty finished.

"You're by yourself?" Rick frowned. That's no way to treat a six-year-old boy. Maybe Abby had something here, checking in on the family situation on a kid before your son got too attached, you'd know how to handle things better.


"Well, maybe I'd better stay with you until your dad comes back." Rick said. He could look over the house and chat, Marty's dad was knocking the door of an empty house, he would be back here soon and they could have their talk.

The house inside was much like the one Rick had grown up in, simple, functional, clean enough. He saw the signs of a smoker in the place, including a fresh Marlboro stub next to a Virginia Slim. "Your dad and mother both smoke?" he asked Marty.

Marty was a cute young tumblebug of a kid, with ill-combed brown hair and a ready grin with a full set of the teeth that were due to start falling out any day now, which would only make that smile more amiable. "Dad doesn't, but Mom does."

"Who smokes the Marlboros then?" Rick asked.

Marty shrugged. "The man who visits Mom."

"Oh." Rick squirmed. "Mom" obviously had a man on the side and Marty had a front-row seat for it. "And she left with the man?"


"Well, your Dad should be home soon." Rick assured Marty.

"It's okay." Marty bounced onto the couch beside Rick. "Want to play a game?"

"Sure, kid." Rick agreed. "Whatever game you want."

* * * * *


Dave blinked down at the blond-haired angel that opened the door. "Hi, there!" the boy called up.

"Hello." Dave blinked again. "Are you Steve?"

"Yep." Steve replied. "Who are you?"

"I'm Dave. I'm Marty's father. Is your mother home?"

"Naw, Mom's still at work. Dad'll be home soon, though." Steve stepped aside. "Come on in, you can wait for him inside."

"Do they know you're home alone?"

Steve giggled. "No. Mom has the neighbor watching me, but she had to leave. Mom called and told her to take me home with her and I just said okay."

"So you're all by yourself." Dave said. "All right, I will wait inside with you."

"Come on in." Steve invited.

The inside of the home was more impressive than Dave expected. "I thought your father worked construction." he said when he saw the designer furniture and interior-decorator touches.

"He does." Steve agreed. "So does Mom." He shrugged. "It gets kind of boring, both of them gone all the time."

"Sorry to hear that." Dave said sincerely.

"Come on, you and me can play a game until Daddy gets home!"

Dave followed Steve through the house and up to his bedroom.

* * * * *


Rick wasn't prepared for what Marty considered a game, though he had done the same when he was a kid. Marty reached and grabbed for Rick's fly and with remarkable agility and adeptness at the task, caught hold of his jeans top button and, with it firmly in one thumb and forefinger, pulled the heavy metal zipper tab down with his other hand.

"Now, Marty, just a minute here!" Rick gasped out.

"Don't worry, I locked the front door." Marty assured him. "Come on, it'll be fun."

All the while Marty had talked, he was reaching into Rick's trousers. Rick knew he should be yanking those eager young hands away from his pants, but hell, this put him agonizingly in mind of the time he'd been eight years old and his best friend had coaxed him into the barn on his family farm and there had taught him the joys of having a buddy's hand wanking on your cock. So much better than doing it yourself! Hell, yeah! So his hands refused to obey the moral strictures his brain tried to lay on him, so much more feeble by dint of being taught to him by people he knew to be liars, cheats, adulterers and drunkards. It made the words of moral rectitude they'd laid down on how to act feeble and hypocritical maunderings, nothing more.

So he stayed as he was, lounging on the couch, while young Marty gleefully brought his cock ought of his trousers and into the light. "Wow, sir, this is a big one!"

"Yeah, it is." Rick agreed. "You know what to do with it?" He slipped a quick look at his watch. 6:40 p.m. Shit, time flies when you're having fun! Like when a young kid has a firm grip on your pud and is about to show you the time of your life!

* * * * *


Dave found Steve's room reassuringly normal after the sterile beauty of the downstairs. A racing-car bed, a desk piled with school books, a toy chest with more toys outside of it than inside, a typical young boy's room.

Steve bounded onto the bed and began tearing his clothes off. Dave blinked at the blond-haired lad as he turned himself into a nude form lying on the bed. "Come on, get in with me!" he urged to Dave.

"Was this what you meant by playing a game?" Dave asked, as he nervously adjusted the sudden bulge in his trousers.

"Uh huh." Steve said and Dave realized that the bulge was exactly where the boy was watching him. "Come on, it'll be fun. I never did it with a grown-up before!"

"It''s not the same as doing it with another boy, you know." Dave said. "A man has a bigger one, for one thing...."

"I know, I've seen them before." Steve said. "Daddy had a video of a man and a woman and I know what it'll do. It shoots some white stuff out all over the woman's face, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it does." Dave admitted.

"The woman licked it and said she loved it." Steve went on. "I want to try some of it. Come on, get in and let me try some of it."

"But your father will be home any minute." Dave told him.

"He'll take some time coming home before he checks my room." Steve assured him. "He'll think I'm at Mrs. Wedderly's. Come on, we'll have plenty of time."

And Dave looked at his watch. 6:40 p.m. Then he began to unfasten his trousers as the young boy watched eagerly.

* * * * *


Marty's hand began to work up and down Rick's shaft and Rick threw his head back and groaned. "Oh, yeah, kid, that's the way, pump my pud for me, kid, pump it hard, pump it good!"

Shit, Abby hadn't touched his cock in how long? He figured the bitch was laying her boss, working late more often than not these days. Or she was frigid from the get go, she never had been willing to play with his johnson nearly as much as he'd wanted her to, even when they'd been newlyweds. And when Steve had come along, she'd announced that one child was all she wanted and that had turned their sex into maybe once a month...if he was lucky. So hell, yeah, he relished the working over his dong was getting in the hand on this giggling young boy. "Come on, boy, work it harder, work it harder!"

"You like me doing this, sir?" Marty asked, just to hear him answer.

He gave it gladly. "Oh, yeah, Marty, you really know how to work a man's cock for him, just keep it up and work it faster, go ahead, really whomp on it, you can't break it!"

"Like this?" And Marty sped up, his little hand a blur on Rick's prong and Rick howled his pleasure as his dong was pummeled by the small palm of Marty's hand.

"Oh, yeah, God, yeah, oh, God!" Rick moaned. "Oh, baby, can you suck it for me? Can you take it in your mouth and suck it for me?"

* * * * *


Dave stripped and crawled into that little race-car bed with his stomach churning. His broad-shouldered, thin-waisted body arced with a lithe, masculine grace as he straddled the boy's chest and offered his cock to him. Steve had indeed watched a sex video, because he took Dave's pud and worked it over right, his little head bobbing back and forth on Dave's dick. Steve must have paid careful attention to the action in that video, because he did everything right, from keeping his teeth away, keeping his mouth wet with saliva, and using his tongue to lap at the underside of his shaft as he slid his mouth up and down over Dave's dong, and Dave groaned as his long-deprived prong got some much-needed loving attention from an avid lad's busy lips.

"Yeah, Steve, come on, suck my dong, suck it hard, suck it good!" he gasped as Steve nursed at him steadily. "Oh, man, I'm so fucking hot, I'll give you all the man-cream you could possibly ever want!"

"Mm-hmm!" Steve grunted happily.

* * * * *


"That's the way you do it." Rick urged as Marty's mouth moved on his pud, tentatively, learning what he needed as he went. "A little faster, now, keep your teeth clear and your mouth all full of spit, and grip with your lips as you move up and down, that's all you have to do, oh, yeah, like that, Baby, like that, oh, oh, man, that's so hot, so fucking hot, a little boy sucking my cock! Come on, suck it faster, you can do it, suck it faster, I'm not going to last long, and when I come, I'm going to give you a big mouthful of hot, salty man-juice, and you'll love it, baby, you'll love it!"

"Mm-hmm!" Marty murmured contentedly.

* * * * *


"Oh, oh, Steve, I'm coming, baby, I'm coming!" Dave moaned as Steve's lips drove him to the edge of passion and he teetered on the brink. "Going to shoot, you ready for it, you ready for it?"


"Oh, oh, I'm coming, OH-AH-AH-AH, GUH-HUNNNHHHHH!" Dave groaned out his ecstasy as he spurted a huge load of jizz right into Steve's hungry, suctioning gullet and Steve gulped it down eagerly as quick as Dave shot it out.

* * * * *


"I'm coming, Marty, I'm coming, brace for it, it's hot and salty and! AGH-HUHHH, UHHHHH!" Rick threw back his head and moaned as he jetted his juices into Marty's young mouth. The boy choked a bit, then caught his stride and began to gulp him as he squirted, only a little of Rick's spunk escaped to dribbled down Marty's chin.

"Oh, oh, uh, uhhh, uhhh!" Rick grunted as his passion lost its hold on him and he was left, an exhausted hulk of man lounging on a stranger's couch, being sucked by it's owner's son. Oh, hell, how long had they been at it? Where was this kid's parents, anyway?

Marty lifted off his cock and left it, a spent limp flap of man-tissue on Rick's jeans, and Rick tiredly tucked it back into its captivity and worked his zipper back up. "Did I do it right, sir?" Marty inquired.

"You did it perfectly, Marty."

Marty licked his lips. "That tasted pretty good, just like you said." he mused.

"Yeah, it's good stuff, ain't it?" Rick agreed. He checked the clock again, five minutes until 7:00p.m. "I'd better check on Steve, he's going to be wondering where I am." He picked his cell phone out of its holster on his waist and hit the speed-dial button for his son's cell phone.

* * * * *


Dave jumped when he heard the cell phone ring. "What's that?" he gasped.

"My phone." Steve said. "It's Daddy, calling me."

"Holy shit!" Dave scrambled out of the little race-car bed and fought to get his clothes on. As he did, Steve took the call.

* * * * *


"Hello, Son." Rick said as he watched Marty licking his spunk from his chin, blissfully enjoying the flavor of man's passion on his tongue.

"Hi, Dad." Steve answered on the other end.

"I'm over at your friend Marty's house, Son." he went on. "Only Marty's here all by himself. I'm keeping him company until his father or mother returns, so I'll be home soon as I can, okay?"

"Marty's Dad's here with me." His son told him. "He came to visit you!"

"He did? Well, I'll be damned." Rick marveled. "Hey, let me talk to the guy, okay?"

"Sure, Dad."

* * * * *


Steve handed Dave his cell phone. "It's my Dad, he's at your house waiting for you to get home. He wants to talk to you."

Dave numbly took the phone. "Hello."

"Hello, I hear you and I are in each other's houses."


"Your son was all alone here, so I was watching him until you or your wife came home."

"I was doing the same thing here, your son was all alone here."

"Huh, he was supposed to be at the neighbor's."

"He told me that, he doesn't like staying with her." Dave went on. "And where's my wife, she's not supposed to leave him alone."

"Apparently she did." Rick commiserated. "My wife works late too many nights, too."

"My wife doesn't even work." Dave grumped. "Tell you what, you stay with Marty and I'll bring Steve over to you and we'll have a talk."

"Sounds good to me." Rick told him. "See you in about ten minutes."

"Right." Dave agreed and Rick hung up. He turned to Steve. "Get your clothes on, you're coming home with me."

* * * * *


Rick hung up his cell phone and turned to Marty. "Well, your Dad will be here in about ten minutes." he said.

"Awww." Marty made a sad-face. "We were having fun."

"We sure were." Rick said. "Don't worry. I was taking Steve on a fishing trip this weekend. Would you like to come with us?"

"Sure!" Marty's face lit up like the sunrise on the desert.

When Dave and Steve arrived, Rick broached the subject of letting his son come on the weekend trip.

And Steve chipped in, "Hey, Dad, can Dave come with us? We can have a lot of fun, the four of us!"

Rick looked up at Dave. "Sure, why not. We can both get to know these boys better."

"Come on, Dave, come with us. You can sleep in my tent with me!"

"And I could sleep with Rick!" Marty hastily added.

Rick looked at Dave and saw him wanting to agree. "Sounds good to me." Rick hastily added. "We have two tents, and there'll be more room that way."

Dave's face lit up like Marty's had earlier. "That sounds great to me."

He and Rick shook hands. "We can really check out each other's son's friends that way."

"Yeah." Dave agreed. "We can really check them out, all right."

"Yeah. Yeah." Steve and Marty agreed, and all four, fathers and sons, were grinning the very same way.

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