The Buzzcut Boys, chapter 2

Travis locked the front door carefully and stared at the door-handle. It was a simple, old fashioned, silver knob with a graceful woven design around the edge. Decades of use had worn it shiny and smooth without a single sharp edge to be seen.

Giving it one last suspicious glance, he turned and headed down the stairs to the front lawn. Tossing his backpack into the passager seat of his car, he sucked in his gut to squeeze himself behind the wheel. His car started the second try as always, and he was off.

Travis headed down the driveway and turned left. This was the way into town, but he searched his memories and didn't remember ever going down this road before. His family had always turned off the highway, turned onto Grandma's driveway, stayed a few days, and then went back the exact same way they came.

The fire station appeared on the left near the road on a football size field of green grass between the woods and the lake. It was a large 'A' frame with the middle a garage with a high ceiling.The sides of the roof jutted down and sharply changed from steep to horizontal to cover one story buildings on both sides. The original building seemed to have been to the right side of the garage, as the left side was twice as large and looked newer. The lake sparkled in the morning light, a dock extending out onto it with some boats tied to it. There appeared to be a huge garden fenced in a stones throw away from the building.

As Travis came closer, he saw the two trucks from yesterday parked in the garage, and some of the buzzcut boys milling about. One was on his back reaching under the old firetruck, his belly preventing him from squeezing underneath. Two were around the black truck hosing it down. Their massive forms were squeezed into tight speedos, and they both seemed wetter than the truck. As Travis passed, one of them brought the hose near his crotch and sprayed the other while thrusting his hips. The other laughed, and leaned down to take the white spray in his face with his mouth open.

Travis stared at them so long he had to rip the steering wheel back to stop himself from going off the road. He thought he heard distant laughter as he straighten the car and his heart slowed down.

Travis continued and soon found himself downtown. He drove slowly, taking in the sights of its old buildings. The surrounding houses were mostly small, more old Victorians, with whitewashed fences and rickety wooden porches that added to the vintage appeal of this place. In the center of town was a cluster of larger buildings made from old brick, their facades time-worn reminders of an older era.

Travis parked his car in a spot on a street built before motor vehicles were invented. He got out and snatched his bag, perusing the storefronts with their attractive window displays. His eyes eventually settled upon a door situated between a bakery and a clothing store. An inscription on the glass says "Red Magnolia Law Firm, 116 Main Street", with a thin, carpeted staircase visible just beyond it. He opened the door, sucking in his breath and squeezed himself up the staircase.

At the top of the stairs, Travis found another door. He pushed it open to reveal a small office that hadn't changed since 1970. The first thing he noticed was an old secretary's desk with piles of ancient looking files atop it. Everything in this place had a musty smell to it, like an attic or cellar.

He walked further into the room and saw a large wooden desk in the corner with an ancient computer taking up most of its space. There were several filing cabinets lined up against one wall and a few chairs scattered around the room for visitors to sit in. Underneath one window was a small bookcase filled with books on law and folders of yellowed paper.

A small bell was perched on the corner of the secretary desk. He hit it, and the 'ping' seemed to be swallowed up by the room. A very old woman appeared from around the corner, her hair in a neat bun and wearing a blue dress.

"Hello dear, you must be Mr. Daemon.Please come in, we have so much to discuss."

The door closed behind him, glass rattling in the frame, and Travis stepped outside. He stood for a moment, the sun warming his skin. In his daze, the thought arose that he should go back to grandma's house. Squeezing back into his car, he turned it twice, and realized this may be the last time he has to deal with car problems.

As he drove off, Travis stomach ripped him out of his stupor with an almighty roar. Without really noticing where he was going, he pulled into the first fast food joint he saw. He ordered, and only when they handed him his bag did he see it was burgers. Back on the road, he drove without seeing the town or the fire station.

The driveway appeared so different when approaching from the other direction. Travis turned and in the distance saw another vehicle parked in front of the house. As he approached, he realized it was the black truck from yesterday, and Big Flint was sitting on the front steps. The smoke from his pipe billowed into his thick beard as Travis parked the car.

"So," Big Flint said around a puff of smoke, "Meetin' with the lawyer went well?"

Travis just stood there, hardly aware of his surroundings. Big Flint hefted himself over to make room and patted next to him. On automatic, Travis plopped himself next to Big Flint, the porch creaking beneath their combined weight.

Big Flint picked up Travis bag and pulled out a hamburger.  As he unwrapped it, he spoke around the pipe held in his teeth."You got a big old life decision to make, huh."

Travis unwrapped his own burger and bit into it. After chewing and swallowing, he stared into the distance. "Yeah, you could say that."

Big Flint adjusted the burger to one hand and his pipe in the other. "Old Mary told me what she was gonna do. She was gonna leave everything to you."

Travis took another bite.

"She didn't tell me how much she was leavin' ya. Is it a lot?"

Travis swallowed, "My student loans would be taken care of, that's for damn sure."

Big Flint took a puff, "...But?"

Travis took another bite and stared for a long time before answering, "But I would have to be a permanent resident in this house."

A long stream of white smoke spewed from Big Flint's lips. "And that right there is the big old question you need to ask yourself, ain't it."

Travis nodded.

Big Flint continued, "Well, it sounds like you're gonna need some time to think about stuff." He took another puff. "I'm gonna finish my pipe. And I recon' Colt's almost done in the kitchen."

Travis turned, "Huh?"

"Yeah, we kinda dropped the ball on the kitchen, letting all that food rot. So we cleaned up and brought over some stuff to fill the fridge. We got sodas' if you're thirsty."

Travis' throat reminded him he was indeed thirsty. He got up and, wrapping his hand in some of his shirt, carefully opened the front door. He thought he saw Big Flint smirk as he took another bite of his stolen burger.

Travis walked into the kitchen and his eyes widened at the sight before him. One of the Buzzcut boys he had seen the day before was shirtless and moving around the kitchen with purpose, loading up the shelves with what seemed like an abundance of groceries. His speed and efficiency indicated he was very well-acquainted with this space.

He turned and saw Travis standing in the doorway. "Hey dude, what's up?" He said as he grabbed some cans and bumped the pantry door open with his foot.

"Uh, hey. Big Flint said there were some sodas?"

Colt reached into a grocery bag and pulled out a can, handing it to Travis. His hand brushing against Travis' as he did so. A thrill shot down Travis' spine.

"Thank you," Travis popped it open and took a long swig. "Um, why did you take off your shirt?"

Colt grinned, "Baking cookies. Saw those premade packs, it had reeses in 'em, I couldn't resist. And that oven heats up this whole damn room." As he spoke, Travis felt a bead of sweat run down the back of his neck.

Colt seemed to sense it, "Dude, take off your shirt too, were both guys here."

"Um, ok." Travis pulled off his shirt. He saw Colt eyeing him before turning to the stove, and another chill went down his spine. Colt opened the stove,  and put on a show bending over, the crack of his plump ass rising above his black cargo pants.

"Yep, these puppies are almost done." Colt seemed to take a long gander at the cookies, and Travis couldn't see anything else until Colt stood back up.

Travis blinked, "Good. Uh, that's good. I love cookies."

Colt laughed, "I think we both love cookies, dude." Colt reached down and gave his belly a good shake.

"I wonder who loves cookies more." Colt bounded over and pressed his belly against Travis, who had the wind knocked out of him as he was squeezed up against the kitchen counter. Colt looked down, and began rubbing and exploring all the flesh between them. Travis had never had anything like this happen to him, but wanted Colt to continue, to reach lower.

"Looks like I have you beat, little man." Colt hefted his own bulk until it sat atop Travis' belly, weighting it down. Pressed so close together, the extra poundage was too much for Travis's knees, and he slid to the floor. Now Colt's gut pushed against Travis' face, pinning his skull against the counter and threatening his air supply.

"Whoops, sorry bro." Colt used both hands to pick up his gut and plopped it on the kitchen counter with a thud. "You ok down there?"

Travis's world was darkness and heat, the weight of Colts belly perched on the top of his head. He took a deep breath in and was overcome by the raw stench of sweat and musk being thrust into his nostrils. Something in him craved the source of that musk. He dug his face forward into fabric, and felt a lump growing in response.

"Uhh," Colt shifted his weight, "Find somethin' down there ya like bro?"

Travis just moaned and started rubbing his face against it.

"Uh," Colt was gripping the counter, "Gi-gime just one sec to get the cookies out."

The light returned for Travis as Colt pulled away. He leaned against the cabinets in a euphoric haze, catching his breath as he heard the oven door open and shut. Then his view was eclipsed as Colt returned, belly back on the counter and hips positioned in front of Travis' face. Only this time, Colt's cargo pants were around his ankles.

"Now," Colt grunted around a mouthful of cookies, "Where were we?"

Travis's mouth attached itself to Colt's throbbing member, and his tongue explored every inch of its veiny surface. He heard Colt sigh, and felt him began to thrust himself into Travis. The sounds of moans echoed in the kitchen, every so often punctuated by crunching. His mouth working hard, Travis lifted up his belly to reach down to undo his pants. Freeing his own swollen tool, he wrapped his hand around it and began to furiously beat off, surrendering to this over powering need.

"Mmmmm," Colt moaned, lifting his belly off of Travis head completely and thrusting harder. "Yeah, that's it, I'm getting close. Cookies and milk, bro, Cookies and......MILK!"

Travis felt the splash of it hit his throat, and he swallowed. With eagerness, he took every spurt, feeling a warmth of deep contentment radiating over his entire being. After some time, it fell limp in his mouth. Colt stepped back, standing naked in the kitchen

"Thanks bro," Colt placed his hands on his bare hips. "Now lets take care of you."

"Uh," Travis was a little off put by the forwardness. Still working his tool hard, he said, "Ok, Sure."

"No sweat." Colt wandered over and grabbed a stack of the cookies in one hand and a bottle of canola oil in the other. He crouched down next to Travis and said, "Open wide."

Confused, Travis opened his mouth, only to almost gag as Colt shoved the whole stack of cookies in. Focusing on breathing around the sugary mass in his mouth, he was suddenly pulled forward by his ankles as Colt dragged him into the middle of the kitchen.

"There we go,"Colt finished by shucking Travis pants farther down and pouring a dollop of oil over Travis dick as it waved in the air. Stepping over Travis to straddle him, Colt grinned down over the hill of his belly at Travis. "You ready Bro?"

Colt must have taken Travis muffled, "Huh" as a yes, for he grinned wider. He squatted down, found and guided Travis in, and finished squatting down all the way to the base in one go.

"Bombs away!"

Travis was overwhelmed. His mouth was tasting sweetness and his dick was warm and tight. Something deep inside him took over, and his hands flew to grab Colts considerable love handles. Colts fingers were on my chest, playing with his tits.

"Yeah, that's it. C'mon Bro," Colt spoke as if he was in the gym helping Travis lift a bar over his chest. "You got this, C'mon."

Travis was no longer the captain of his ship. Between Colt and this feeling deep inside him, he thrust his hips a couple more times before grabbing Colt and slamming him down, moaning loudly through the cookies. Colt tightened himself up as Travis rode the most intense orgasm of his life.

Travis lost track of time. When time meant something to him again, he was staring at an eager face over a flesh colored beach ball.

"Sup dude. How ya feeling?"

Travis tried to speak, but was reminded his mouth was full.

"Oh, right." With a heave, Colt stood up off of Travis, his spent dick flopping to the side, and went to the fridge. A clink of a glass and a slopping sound,  then Colt returned to Travis' field of vision with a glass of milk in his hand. With the other, he reached down to help Travis up to a sitting position. Travis noted great strength in the hand that helped him, and took the glass from him. He relaxed and took a long drink to clean his mouth out. Meanwhile, Colt pulled up his pants and buckled them.

"Okay dude. Thanks for the bone. Hit me up again, see ya." And without bothering to put his shirt on, he walked out the door, leaving Travis spent and pantless on his grandmother's kitchen floor.