Some boys finally came over to talk to us on lunch.
The Taco Truck was there in the parking lot, because it was the first Tuesday of the month, but I brought a lunch. I didn’t want to say anything, but my mom is cheap.
I wanted money to buy tacos, but mom says that’s just another corporate promotion, then went on, and on about how Pepsico is like some evil empire. I just rolled my eyes, and tuned it out, but I’d heard this whole rant before.
On burger Thursdays too, when it’s MacDonalds instead of Taco Bell, and did you know that MacDonalds is the 6th largest real estate company in the world? They actually make all their money off of renting out places to their franchise holders, but that’s boring, so I’ll leave it at that.
So anyway, she just gave me 2 hot dogs in a bag, with tortillas in another bag to keep them dry. A little slice of cheese, but cut off the block of cheese on the slicer, because pre-sliced cheese is a corporate scam, and so is shredded cheese. At least she’s not antivax, or something dangerous like that?
So, I took them to the microwave, and put water in the hot-dog bag, so they didn’t split when I heated them up. The kitchen was closed, so the rest of the kids were out in the plaza waiting in line for the truck. I just rolled the cheese up in the tortilla around the hot hot dogs, and carried them out to the plaza.
It’s just a square, where they didn’t have a building, if it were anywhere else, they’d call it an empty lot, but they had tables set up for eating, or doing your homework. Don’t ask me why they call it a Plaza, instead of the Quad, or the picnic square.
“Huh!” I sat with my friends, of course. So, they didn’t tease me about my cheap alternative to corporate promotions, and bit back nasty comments about how Mountain Dew is like a drug. So, I don’t sound like my SJW mother, and just put my lunch down on the table.
Rita got her burritos out of her lunch box, and complained about Taco Bell, unwrapping one, and biting a packet of Fire to squirt in the tortilla. “Huh, they have some balls calling those Tacos.” Well, she’s Mexican, and she’s named Margarita after the cocktail, so yeah. “It’s not even Tex Mex.”
“You like the hot-sauce, though?” She licked some off her thumb, and nodded. Shrugging, and rolling her tortilla back up.
“It’s okay, at least it has a little heat. I can’t carry a bottle of Cholula on my belt, like that Chris Perez guy.” She’s talking about the movie Selena, because they made a TV show about it on Netflix a few years back, but she didn’t like that either.
Then, the other girls showed up, laughing, and holding their Tacos in their laps. Making dirty jokes about eating Tacos, and calling each other lesbos. I took a bite out of one of my hot dog, cheese, and tortilla burritos when they pointed them out.
“What’s wrong, you on a diet again?”
I shrugged, “I don’t like tacos,” and took a bite.
“Yeah, because they’re cynical corporate cultural appropriation.” They rolled their eyes, “We know.” They’ve been over to my house for dinner, and mom’s a good cook, but the whole time she’s cooking, she gives you a lesson on Why she cooks everything from scratch, and packaged food is bad for you. The planet, and IDFK. Everything?
(Just ignoring the fact that she packages everything separately in plastic ziplocks that I have to throw out. Then wraps all that in a paper bag, which I can’t recycle, because her OCD is stronger than her desire to save the planet, with cooking.)
“I guess I’m not hungry.” I put it in my lap, with just 1 bite out of the other end, so the pink head stuck out of the white tortilla with the end bunched up around where the casing was twisted off, when mom made them. (She makes her own hot-dogs, too. So, it’s a natural skin casing.)
They all giggled, when they saw me sitting there like a boy. With my dick hanging out, so I leaned back, and put my arms out. Around their shoulders, on the back of the bench, and grunted. I couldn’t exactly man-spread, because then the hot dog would just fall between my legs and roll away on the ground.
That’s when the boys came over, finally. I mean, we’ve been playing these food games for months now. Yeah sure, we teased each other about fur burgers or whatever, but that’s just because we didn’t have any boys over at our table to talk to. It’s all an act to get their attention though. Doesn’t really matter what day it is, or what food they’re serving, because if you’re creative, you can eat anything sexily.
“What’s wrong?” I let go of Rita, and Karynne. “Don’t you like Tacos?” Westley looked down at the pig in a blanket, so I picked it up off my lap.
“Oh, no.” Kay told them all. “Her mom just doesn’t believe in corporate promotions in schools.”
“Oh, I’m not hungry,” I got up, and went over to to Wes, who’s really cute. He’s even got a little mustache, and scruff around his jaw, too. Which is a lot for a 9th, or 10th grader. (If he were a Junior, or Senior, he’d just go out to lunch with them, and probably have a car to drive, or make out in the back seat.) “My mom packs her own sausages, though.” I gave him the one I didn’t circumcise to taste. “I’m Saffron.”
“I know, Saffy, but which mom packs your sausage for lunch?”
“Oh, I just have the one mom. Yeah she dates other women, but she’s not seeing anyone serious, or getting married, or anything.”
“Oh, so I guess.” He shook his head, and took a bite to think. “Mh!” He chewed, and swallowed.
“Maybe you can buy me a drink, though?” The line for the taco truck had died down, and when I said that Mountain Dew is like a drug, I mean I’m like a crack head for caffeine. It’s all right if it’s just organic fair trade hippy dippy coffee, but Mountain Dew is like liquid meth, and they have a drinks machine right there on the side of the big boxy step-van. So, he bought me a cup to fill up, no ice, and I took a sip.
“So, she’s not a vegetarian?”
“No, she pronounces it Vagitarian, but she’s not in denial about us being omnivores. Honestly, the damage done by factory farming is better avoided by just farming. If she could have her own cow, she probably would, but we have chickens and stuff.”
“Well, I heard that lesbians move in together real quick.”
“Yeah, that’s just a joke, but also. That’s Lesbians, not bisexuals.”
“Oh, your mom is bi, then?”
“Yeah, I guess. If you want to label her like that, she’d rather date women, because they have more in common, and she’s not going to get dragged off to a Seahawks game, but she’s not exclusive in bed.” Finally, I led him off around the corner, to one of the buildings where they had stairs down from the upper floors, but we didn’t have to go inside. The door is locked back into the hallway, it’s really more of a fire escape, but they have a wall around the landing.
So, they can’t see me going down, and sitting on the bottom step to get his pants open, and pull his boxers down to find a nice plump sausage with the natural casing bunched up around the end. “Snh!” It smelled clean enough, when I pulled it back to sniff the inside, a little soapy, but unscented, and that just made it slipperier on my tongue.
“Oh, wow. Man, you really know how to suck cock!”
“Mhm?” Thank god you’re here, Captain Obvious! I never done it in school before, never got the chance, but I’m 14. As he pointed out, I have a single mom, who basically lives as a lesbian, but also sucks dick, not to mention the fact that she had me. So, she must’ve fucked at least once, unless she pulled some weird trick with a turkey baster to avoid it. I don’t care enough about who my biological father is to ask. If she can even remember his name, because she’s so casual about sex, especially when it comes to spontaneous sex with women she just met, or hooked up with on the internet. Some of them are married, and some of their husbands cum along for threesome, and that’s just. Normal? I mean, it’s like a fetish or whatever for boys, but not to me.
I practiced on hot-dogs, bananas, and stuff. Of course, we did it right at the table, to show the boys we can be just as dirty minded as them, but I checked my watch. There was still close to 40 minutes left to enjoy my blowjob, so I took my time. “Swop, puh!” I pulled the skin up, to get it wet, and stuck that in my mouth, to slip it out. Slick the soapy wet spit further down the shaft, and gripped it, so it slipped even further. “Huh, you’ve got a really nice one.” I looked up, “Hold up your shirt, let me see your abs. You’ve got a great body too. You work out?”
He took it off, and looked out over the plaza. Topless, he even flexed his muscles proudly, which just made him look even nicer. His tanned skin shining in the sun, and even a little of the blonde highlights showing in his ponytail. He’s kinda like one of those 90s hipsters? I mean, he obviously dresses like one, khaki dockers, 3 button pullover shirt, long hair in a pony tail, but not all ratty and split ends like a head banger.
Or, the retro grunge boys, with their Nirvana shirts, and flannel tied on around their waist. The lumberjackoffs with their long, perfectly groomed beards, suspenders, and fixie bikes. How the hell they carry their axes, and chainsaws on skinny little track bikes is beyond me. In fact, you never see them with tools in their hands at all, and they don’t have a speck of dirt on their scotchgarded Timberland boots.
Look, I live in Kent, Washington. Seattle is right there. Fashion in Seattle is more like which hipster table you drink your coffee at. Most boys don’t even bother wearing the 90s hipster ponytail and goatee, but it’s a good look on him. Smiling down on me, the sun bleached highlights shining in the sun. His dirty blond curls right in front of my nose, and his nice warm uncircumcised cock in my mouth.
“Hhuh! Fuck, uh. Yeah.”
I pulled out to just the tip, but kept slipping the lose spit slick skin up and down it. Pumping his balls out right on my tongue, and licking it, so I can feel the hole ejaculate another spurt right on my tongue. Hold it in the bottom of my mouth, until he’s done, and I can pinch the bottom with my tongue.
“Smuip!” Smiling when it slips out, soft, and watching the wet glistening head swell, as my fingers slip out 1 last time, and the last drops well out of the tip to hold up, and lick. Kiss, and the foreskin kisses back.
He pulled his pants up, to drop his balls in. “Huh, tuwn araow.” With my mouth full, I threw my head back, and downed the shot with a gulp. “Kah! Let me see your tight buns.” Bare assed, I couldn’t resist an “Oohuhuh!” And a squeeze, patting them together.
“I’m not into crossfit, or anything.” Oh yeah, I asked if he worked out? I didn’t ask him what kinds of athletic activities he does to get those nice tight abs, and buns. That’s just an invitation to talk about sports, but I can really appreciate the results! Checking my watch, 12, almost 13 minutes ago. “Can I pull my pants up now?”
“Yeah,” I picked up my drink, and took a sip from the straw. “You must have one of those metabolisms. You’re lucky, you don’t have to diet, or exercise to stay that fit?”
He picked his shirt up off the hand rail, and turned it right side out. Shrugging, “Well, I don’t know about that. I thought you ment working out like weight lifting, or body building?” He shook his head, “I just like to get my exercise in funner ways, but.” He pulled out a pocket watch. “We got a couplefew minutes, you want a fingerbang or something?”
“No, I’m good. Maybe later, if you want to hook up after school?”
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Maybe we can celebrate Taco Tuesday together.” I spread my legs, and pulled my pants up, tight over my crotch to make a cameltoe.
“Okay, yeah. See you then then.” His shirt tucked in, he buttoned up his pants, and left me up there to get my hands dirty. A fingerbang or something? Yeah, okay, but I only got like 20 minutes, and honestly? if you want it done right, you DiY, but now I had something hot to think about.
Like those dirty blonde curls, the little bit he had clinging to his lip, and some more around his chin. His jaw, and what that’ll feel like tickling my pubes. Clamped between my legs, and teaching him how I like it this afternoon, when we have the time. “Huh! Yeah, just like that.”
I finally got a boy to fool around with at school though. Good, so I don’t have to wait until after school, or make do with whoever’s horny at the girl’s table on lunch. Yeah, that’s cool and all, I like them, and even eating pussy isn’t that bad, but it’s not like the real thing.
“Huh!” I don’t hate tacos, but if it’s all the same to you? We better make it a sausage party instead. The other girls probably hooked up too, seeing as Westley wasn’t the only boy that came up, and talked to us. I’m sure they’ll tell me all about it later, but for now I better see how many Os I can crank out before the bell rings…