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Subject: Title story: "Burping Frog Publishing" Author: Jack Allen 123344529
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Date: Fri, 23 Nov 2007 20:53:57 +0000
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A Whisky Lemonade by Jack Allen jallen@burpingfrog.com
Ethan ran upstairs to his bedroom to get dressed. He put on a pair of boxer
shorts. His dick was not as hard as before, but it hung out the left leg of his
shorts. He put on his jeans and looked at himself in the mirror. His dick
clearly stood out against his left leg. He sighed and took the jeans off.
Somewhere in his dresser was a pair of jockey shorts he no longer wore. He found
them buried in the bottom drawer. He took off the boxers, put on the jockeys,
and put the boxers back on over them.
Immediately, he was uncomfortable. The jockeys were too tight. His penis grew
even harder, straining against the underwear. He looked at himself in the mirror
again. At least he couldnt see the outline of it against his leg. It was
terribly uncomfortable, but nobody would laugh.
He put on his jeans and shoes and a shirt and went downstairs. Mom and Mrs.
Thorn were still in the kitchen, having tea. He went out to the garage and
turned on the light. The car was waiting patiently for him. He stood back to
look at it for a few seconds. It was a 1966 GTO, his grandfathers. On the
workbench, by the repair manual, were three two-barrel carburetors. It took him
two weeks to strip them down, clean and reassemble them. Today was as good a day
as any to put them back on.
He raised the hood. The engine lurked beneath like a wild animal restrained by a
cage. At the top, the three holes in the manifold were covered with masking
tape. Ethan removed the tape from the rear hole, picked up the carb marked for
that spot, and placed it carefully over the four mounting studs.
In his mind, he saw the cheerleaders going through their routines. They had
slender waists and smooth legs and their chests jiggled and bounced. He grew
stiff again. He stopped tightening the bolts on the carburetor to adjust his
penis in his shorts. The harder it grew, the more uncomfortable it got. Shifting
it in his shorts only made it harder. His penis finally slipped through the leg
of the jockeys. He shook his legs a few times until it was hanging down his
jeans against his left leg. That was better, but the band of the jockeys was too
tight, cutting into the shaft.
He heard a footstep and turned around quickly, taking his hands away from his
groin. Mrs. Thorns eyebrows arched up. She was looking down at the front of
his jeans.
Uncomfortable, Ethan? she said.
Ethan blushed and stared at the floor. Just ... a little tight.
Mrs. Thorn smirked. Ill bet.
She leaned against the fender of the GTO and looked in at the engine. Her large
breasts rested on her folded arms, bulging from the halter top like they might
burst out.
This is a nice car, Ethan, she said.
It was my grandfathers.
Looks like it belongs to you.
Ethan just nodded and stared at her out of the corner of his eye. One of her
long legs kicked up and her backside moved side to side. Mrs. Thorn was not like
the girls he knew. Her chest was much bigger and she had longer legs than any of
those girls. He badly wanted to touch Mrs. Thorn, to see how her body felt.
You probably cant wait to drive it, can you? Mrs. Thorn said as she moved around
to the front of the car.
No, maam, Ethan said. His eyes were on her breasts, watching the way
they jiggled.
She started to say something, but lost her balance. Her arms went out and she
fell back against him. Ethan caught her around her waist. His fingers touched
her breasts. He was right they were soft. Her ass pressed against the front of
his jeans and his hard penis lodged in the crack between her cheeks.
Oh, Im so sorry, Ethan, she said. Her ass moved side to side on his stiffness
and she leaned against him for a few seconds. I just wanted to get a better
look. Would you hold me up?
Mrs. Thorn bent forward to look over the front grill. Ethans hands moved down
her waist to her hips. Her ass pressed more firmly against the front of his
jeans. His eyes rolled up.
Thats a really nice machine you have here. Youll have to take me for a ride
some time.
Sure, Ethan said, but as she stood up and left, he got the feeling she was
talking about something else.
He couldnt move. His penis was as hard as a rock and stretched down the leg of
his jeans. The leg band of the jockeys cut into it painfully. There was no way
it would go soft and he couldnt go out to dinner with it sticking out like that.
He leaned back on the stool. Mrs. Thorns ass felt incredible. He never would
have believed being touched by a girl like that would have felt so good. He
rubbed his cock through his jeans and gasped. His knees became weak. He sat for
a long time with his hands on his knees, trying not to touch it.
From behind the car, he watched the neighbor across the street watering his
lawn, and a few cars that drove by, until he couldnt stand it any longer. He had
to do something. He couldnt go in Mom would see him like this. Besides, he didnt
think he could walk. Maybe if he took it out of his tight ...
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