Authors: Ethan Day
Tags: #MLR Press; ISBN 978-1-60820-237-9; Sequel to Sno Ho
sadness. “I would never treat him like this. His good for nothing,
selfish fucking happiness would be the most important thing to
me.”
“Because you love him,” Wade said.
“Are you quoting Celine Dion songs to me now?”
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117
Wade placed a hand over my mouth. “And that’s not going to
change because you’re quarrelling at the moment. I understand
why he’s upset, because he is losing you to a certain degree.”
I pulled his hand away so I could speak. “He’s not losing me;
things are just…changing slightly.”
“He’s losing what you guys had, seeing each other every day.
I’d be a shit head too if the shoe were on the other foot.”
“You wouldn’t give me up to make me happy?” I asked,
feigning shock.
“Hell fucking no!” Wade yelled at the top of lungs. “I’m never
letting you go.”
I busted out laughing. “Well don’t sugar coat it for me, lover.”
“I’m way too selfish for that,” Wade said. “But that doesn’t
mean I don’t feel for the guy.”
“Sheesh—what a prick.” I settled back into him. “Can’t
believe my happiness doesn’t rate higher to you.”
“Your happiness—you, you, you,” Wade said. “My asshole
boyfriend.” Wade tossed an arm up into the air before allowing it
to fall like a dead weight onto the mattress.
“I thought my asshole was what you loved most about me?”
Wade burst out laughing, shaking the entire bed.
“You certainly spend a lot of time attending to it,” I added.
“Are you lodging a formal complaint?” he asked.
I sat up, making sure I appeared near panic. “Um, no sir. I
most certainly am not.”
Wade cupped my face in his hands and he sat up enough so
he could kiss me. I placed my hand on his stomach for balance.
I loved the fact that despite my six foot, long legged frame Wade
was able to make me feel small. It was the weirdest thing, but
the sheer size of him turned me on. Plus, a guy that made me
feel skinny? That had to be, totally, like the gay Holy Grail or
something.
I could feel his smile forming as my hand slipped under the
118 Ethan Day
sheet and over his soft cock. It took about five seconds before
my fingers had him beginning to swell. He pulled his mouth away
from mine and let out a groan.
“You are one horny little boy.” Wade laid back, a soft sigh
escaping from between his lips as my hand worked him over.
“And you haven’t even seen all I can do yet,” I said, feeling my
own lust building as his dick got thicker and harder in my hand.
Wade’s mouth was hanging open, eyes shut tight as he
whispered, “Thank you, God.”
I shimmied down the bed, pulling the sheet back with my
teeth. “I’m not sure God had anything to do with it baby. I’m
fairly certain he’s got better things to do with his time.”
Wade’s entire body went rigid when I wrapped my lips around
the head of his dick. “Oh shit…but in all fairness…oh hell yeah
that…more…you do call out his name a lot when I’m inside
you…that feels
incredible
.”
I slowly pulled my mouth off his dick, laughing as the suction
caused that cork popping sound. Wade’s hard-on snapped back,
slapping him in the abs. I looked up at him and he glanced down
to see why I’d stopped.
“I’m referring to
you
being a god when you’re inside me, baby.
Not the big guy upstairs.”
“Fuck that’s hot…” He managed to get out before I swallowed
him once again, causing his entire body to tense. His hand went
to the back of my head and he started to thrust into my mouth.
“So…fucking…blessed.”
I was sitting quietly in the passenger side of Wade’s rental car
on our way to my parents’ house. I was trying to stave off my
nerves by holding onto my irritation over Wade’s reaction to my
car. I wasn’t surprised by it, as most everyone I knew loved to
comment on what a piece of shit it was. Even I recognized that
the nearly fifteen-year-old BMW that I’d personally driven for
just over ten was on its last leg. It was more rust than anything
else at this point, but it was fine for errands and got me to and
from work.
Despite knowing I needed one, I couldn’t reconcile myself to
having a car payment, not to mention the higher insurance rates
that getting a new car would mean. But Wade had gone way over
the top, going on and on for like thirty minutes about what a
safety hazard it was. The thing that really got under my skin was
the hint of snobbery laced within his objections. He didn’t say it,
but it was obvious he didn’t want me moving into his neck of the
woods with my trashy piece of shit automobile. Going on and
on about how irresponsible it was for me to drive it, risking my
own life as well every other driver on the road. I mean seriously,
it was
one
friggin’ rust bucket, and therefore couldn’t possibly be
a danger to
every
other driver in the world.
He could be so melodramatic sometimes. I grinned, thinking
how hypocritical that last thought was, especially coming from
me. I finally had to tell him to please shut the fuck up already;
funnily enough he didn’t seem to appreciate that. I don’t know
why…I’d said please.
Pulling into the drive way of my parents’ pueblo style ranch
with its reddish brown stucco, I silently prayed they would like
Wade as much I hoped. And in turn, that Wade would recognize
the underlying kindness of my well-meaning mother and
father—hidden under the layers of too much make-up and tacky
southwestern décor.
120 Ethan Day
I love my parents. They are good people with huge hearts, but
the Cosby’s we are not. My family is a somewhat disturbing yet
slightly addictive reality TV show in the making. And I worry we
are a little too close for most people’s comfort.
There was no subject that was taboo. And as much as it
mortified me to have my dad asking me if I enjoyed anal sex as he
passed me the bowl of mashed potatoes, it was difficult to protest
considering he was genuinely interested, in a
wanting-his-son-to-be-
happy
sort of way. That wasn’t even the worst of it. He’d followed
up my timid and hesitant answer of yes, by informing me that
he hadn’t particularly cared for it. Talk about a head spinning,
mind numbing revelation. I was beginning to think I hadn’t had a
chance in hell at coming out straight, between the dead gay uncle
that my fag-hag, ex-beauty queen mother had been devoted to,
and an apparent, newly out and proud father. Who knew finding
out that your parents had purchased a strap-on would wind up
being such an overwhelming relief?
Even more horrifying was, before I could seem to stop
myself, I’d asked how big the dildo was, as the size could have
had something to do with my father’s unpleasant anal experience.
This apple apparently didn’t fall too far from the freak tree, after
all.
I contemplated the bright turquoise painted trim and garage
door, thinking they stuck out like a sore thumb against the earth
toned stucco, almost blindingly so. I took in a deep breath to calm
myself as Wade stared blankly at the old covered wagon sitting
in the gravel to the right of the driveway. It was just the frame,
and was beyond weathered. The giant wagon wheels looked as if
they’d grown tired of holding up the bed and rickety old bench.
Wade turned, seeing I was watching him and he grinned,
beginning to open his car door.
“Hey,” I said, grabbing his arm and forcing him to face me. I
leaned in, planting a kiss on his lips, holding his chin in my hand
as I shoved my tongue in his mouth. He let out a few quiet moans
while I assaulted his mouth, putting everything I had into it. I
wasted no time with sweetness or seduction, and was already half
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121
hard by the time he pushed me away, needing to catch his breath.
“What was that for?” Wade asked, half smiling as he licked his
lips and cleared his throat.
I watched as he reached down, adjusting himself in his jeans,
and nodded.
“Just a reminder of what you’ll be missing should you be
tempted to break up with me after tonight.”
Wade smacked my shoulder. “Will you stop that, already? I
don’t care if they’re completely whacko. I’m too worried about
whether or not they’ll like me.”
Can I get that in writing, please?
“Me too.” I shook the stress out
of my hands.
“You could at least attempt to make me feel at ease here. I
think you’re more nervous than I am—and that’s putting me
more
on edge.”
I sighed, taking a few deep breaths. “You’re right, I am…I’m
sorry, Wade. It’s not really that big of a deal though right?”
“Um, well kinda,” Wade said, acting as if I’d just sprouted a
horn. “I’d really love it if your parents didn’t hate me.”
“That’s impossible.” I reached over and took his hand. “I’m
only wigged because I’ve never brought anyone home to meet
them before. I don’t exactly know what to expect.”
“That’s awesome!” Wade said, obviously not meaning it. “I
love being the sacrificial guinea pig.”
“The price you pay for being my sex pig.” I smiled from ear to
ear and Wade shook his head while white knuckling the steering
wheel.
“My father’s a sports fanatic. Surely you can bond with him
on some level.” I reached over and squeezed his knee. “Bring
up your Olympic stuff, he’ll eat it up. And my mother will take
one look at you and be completely hooked. All you have to
do is embrace it. But listen Wade, they…well they’re not your
normal…they’re likely…to say what some
might
consider, highly
inappropriate things.”
122 Ethan Day
He sat there for a moment as if taking that information in
while mulling over the ramifications. We each pulled the door
handles, allowing the dry New Mexico air to infiltrate the interior.
“At least I now know you come by it honestly,” Wade muttered
as we each got out of the car.
“I heard that, fucker.” I gave him my evil eye and shut the car
door, then walked around to the painted wood gate that led into
the private courtyard.
“Are your parents moving?” Wade asked, shutting the gate
behind us.
“No.” I watched as he surveyed the gravel terrain, dotted with
the small shrubs and cacti landscaping. “What made you—?”
“Thought I saw a real estate sign.” Wade shrugged. “Must’ve
misread it.”
Stone pavers cut a curved path to the small covered porch
trimmed with rough hewn log posts and beams. Wade surveyed
the collection of brightly painted pottery shaped like animals, and
copper garden accents that spun and whizzed due to the wind
setting them in motion. I was chewing away on my lip, thinking
he hadn’t seen anything yet as we made our way to the front door.
I took in a deep breath and let out a long sigh. Wade began to
massage the back of my neck.
“Go on, sexy,” he whispered. “Open the door, already.”
I was counting to ten while I reached for the door knob, only
to jump when it swung open. I felt Wade’s hand practically rip
itself away from my neck as my mother started to squeal.
“Get on inside here already,” my father happily bellowed.
My parents, Rocky and Dixie, took my breath away slightly
with their exuberance and I smiled, happy to see their faces. My
mother snatched me up, digging her bright red fingernails into
my arms as she pulled me into an embrace. I smiled, giggling as
goose pimples ran over my arms.
My mother looked like the illegitimate love child of Peg Bundy
and Dolly Parton, wearing bright, berry colored, form-fitting
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123
capri pants that sat low on her hips. The pants were paired with
one of my father’s baby blue denim button up shirts she’d tied
into a knot, showing off her toned tummy. It was unbuttoned to
show off more of her cleavage than I’d have hoped to have seen.
Red sandals adorned her feet, with matching painted toenails,
and she had a bright yellow gauzy scarf tied around her neck, a
la Laverne and Shirley.
I knew it was more camouflage than fashion statement since
I could see the bright red hickey poking out from underneath the
scarf on the side of her neck. Her dark brown hair was piled up
on top of her head and had been teased into a poofy bouffant.
She was fully painted for war, her make-up perfectly applied,
despite having more of it on than any one individual ever should.
“Seriously Mom,” I whispered, as Rocky was vigorously
shaking Wade’s hand. “I’ve known drag queens who wear less
make-up.”
I yelped when she violently pinched my arm before shoving
me out of the way to get to Wade. I was laughing despite rubbing
the soon to be bruised spot.
“And just look at you,” Dixie said, eyeing Wade more intently