Lions of the Desert-Part 1

“Are you about ready?”

Eighteen-year-old Lee Ogden looked up at the sound of the gravelly voice.  The bus driver was standing next to the small, sticky table Lee had claimed barely fifteen minutes earlier.  Lee studied the older man’s round face, his dark cheeks covered in coarse, gray stubble.  There was a constellation of blotches that tended to come from old age spread over his wrinkled forehead.  Small, beady eyes looked down at him patiently.  Lee swallowed the mouthful of sandwich he’d just finished chewing then nodded.

The bus driver nodded his head once.  “Good.  You can go ahead and finish up.  We’ll be gettin’ back on in about ten or so minutes.”

Lee smiled.  “Thank you,” he said softly but politely.

The bus driver started to turn around when Lee asked, “Umm…how much farther? I mean, are we almost-”

The older man blinked. He took a short breath, the air of the crowded gas station whistling through the hairy nostrils of his plump nose.  “Where ya’ goin’ again?”

“De-” Lee started then stopped, choking nervously on a tiny piece of lettuce that had apparently still been in his mouth.  “Desert Hill…umm…”  Lee hesitated, clearing his throat again.  “The university there.  Near…”

The old bus driver nodded his head.  “Yeah, yeah.  I know it. The university is the only thing in Desert Hill.”

“Oh.”

Lee watched the bus driver lift his chin.  His small, dark eyes stared out the smudged, scratched glass of the oversized window beside the table.  “Well,” the old man said with his scratchy voice.  He crossed his arms over his broad chest, his chubby gut protruding out toward Lee.  He scratched at the stubble on one of his dark cheeks and continued.  “I’d say…you’ve still got a ways to go.  Both in miles…and hours.”

“Oh,” Lee said again.

“Anyway, ‘bout ten or so minutes.”

Lee grinned shyly as the old bus driver finally turned away from the little table and shuffled off to another part of the busy gas station.  Lee only watched him for another moment.  He caught a glimpse of a boy standing in line at the long register counter.  He’d apparently been watching the whole interaction because his eyes suddenly darted away when Lee’s quick gaze landed on him.  He’s cute, Lee admitted to himself.  Not that it mattered, though.  He was a stranger in a gas station in a town that was no more than a dot on a map.  And you had to zoom in on the map just to see the dot.  Lee had certainly never heard of it before until half an hour ago.

“You should go,” echoed the voice of his best friend from Lee’s thoughts.  It was the conversation they had a few weeks earlier.  “It’s a chance to get out of this place, to figure out exactly who you are and who you want to be.”

“I know,” Lee had said as he had sat on the wooden rail of the old, weathered fence.

Lee remembered the feeling of Cal’s hand on his bare shoulder, the stern but compassionate expression on his face.  “It costs you nothing to go.  You just have to do it.”

Lee looked down at the last quarter inch of the sub sandwich he’d been eating.  For a gas station sandwich it wasn’t bad.  But Lee wasn’t really thinking about his dinner.  His thoughts had shifted to the letter in the bookbag at his feet.  At first glance, it had been pretty non-descript.  It was addressed to him from the Office of Admissions at Desert Hill University, New Mexico. Lee had never heard of the place and had certainly never applied to be a student. The letter had arrived less than two weeks after his grandmother’s death.

Lee looked up, turning his head to stare out the big window beside his table.  He didn’t want to think about how the summer had started, how he’d been pulled out of class just before final exams were scheduled to begin.  Instead, he wanted to see the little New Mexico town the bus had stopped in beyond the dirty, scratched glass of the wide, square pane.  He could barely see through the bright reflection of the gas station’s interior.  A few streetlights were just barely visible across the highway.  Lee spotted the shape of a semi-truck cruising past the long row of gas pumps.  He saw a man and woman walk past the bank of windows toward the store’s entrance, his wandering gaze almost missing the hazy reflection of the cute boy standing beside his table.

Lee blinked in surprise. He turned his head sharply, startled.  “Hey.”

“Hey,” the boy said, his voice deeper than Lee had imagined.  His skin was a rich, light brown color.  His face was smooth.  His eyes were deep brown. Slick strands of his black hair peaked out around the bottom of the LA Dodgers baseball cap he wore at an angle, the flat brim pointed toward his right cheek.  He could have been sixteen or twenty.  Lee couldn’t be sure.

Eighteen-year-old Lee Ogden was in uncharted territory here, figuratively and literally.  There was a feeling that seemed to hover in the air between the two boys.  It was strange, awkward, and, Lee had to admit, kind of exciting.  Lee had no idea what to do next.

“Yo, do you mind, bro,” the young stranger asked, gesturing with his chin to the empty chair on the opposite side of the small, sticky table.

“Lee blinked, confused, then followed the other boy’s eyes.  He spotted the empty seat.  The epiphany struck him like a wooden bat.  “Oh! Uhh…yeah, sure.”  Never mind the people at the table in front of Lee who were gathering their things to leave, or that the middle-aged woman knitting behind him also had an empty seat at her table.

“Thanks,” he said, placing a wrapped sandwich on the table and dropping his overused backpack on the floor before sliding into the hard plastic chair across from Lee.

He unwrapped the sandwich hurriedly, immediately biting into the soft bread and blanket lettuce shreds.  Lee watched him quietly.  It might have been the boy’s first meal all day-or all week-and Lee didn’t want to interrupt him.  He noticed the flecks of mud on the boy’s baseball cap.  His soft, black hoodie was hanging open, the slider missing from the zipper, giving Lee a peak of a quarter-sized brown nipple on the boy’s smooth chest.

“Anthony,” he said, swallowing the food in his mouth.

Lee realized he was staring at the visible edge of the boy’s dark nipple when it was suddenly eclipsed by an outstretched hand.  “Oh,” Lee said, his mouth feeling strangely dry.  He cleared his throat, adding, “Lee.  Lee Ogden,” as they shook hands.

The boy named Anthony smiled.  “Nice to meet you, Lee Ogden.”

“Likewise,” said Lee.  There were butterflies in his stomach.  They were still holding each other’s hand in a shake that had begun to extend a few seconds longer than Lee thought was normal.  Anthony’s fingers were soft but slightly calloused.  His hand was a little bigger than Lee’s and held his firmly for a moment more before finally letting go.

Anthony wolfed down another bite. His deep, golden-brown eyes stayed locked on Lee, moving up and down just slightly.  “I like your vibe,” Anthony said after a dozen seconds of quietly chewing.

Lee looked down at himself.  He was wearing one of his favorite tank tops.  It reminded him of an impressionist painting the way it went from deep purple at the hem to shades of lighter and lighter pink toward the inch and a half-wide shoulder straps.  It matched the casual pink of his shorts and then white flip flops he was wearing.  “Thanks!  They were all gifts.  Well, kind of.  I bought the shorts and flip-flops with birthday money.”

Anthony smiled.  “Yeah.  It’s good aura.  But you’re definitely not from Loving or anyplace near here.”

Lee smirked.  “No.”

“Where are you from?”

There was a soft plap from somewhere under the table, like hard rubber gently slapping against the dingy, linoleum floor.  Lee didn’t seem to notice as he answered, “Harper, Texas.”

“Nice,” said Anthony while slowly lifting his right under the table so his socked foot began to just barely glide across the hairs and skin of Lee’s left leg.

It took Lee a moment to realize what was happening.  He thought it was a bug on him at first.  He reached down impulsively just as Anthony’s foot cleared the lip of Lee’s chair.  His fingers felt the other boy’s cloth covered toes just as they pressed against the leg of his shorts and into his crotch.  Lee couldn’t stop the powerful electric tingle that suddenly surged through his nervous system any more than he could stop the blood from racing into his excited, virgin penis rapidly beginning to swell on the other side of the thin, pink fabric.  He considered for a second if he had made the wrong choice in not wearing underwear.

“Good” Anthony said, his voice lower.

“What are you doing,” Lee asked nervously, leaning forward to try to keep his voice down.  That simple motion only put his firming, young cock into more contact with the socked toes caressing the swelling, pink package.

“I saw you earlier on the bus…and when we stopped and came in here.  I wanted to know if you were really not wearing underwear.”

The red square table, permanently stained and sticky with ancient drink rings and food residue, was only a foot wide on each side.  Anthony hardly had to stretch or contort his lean, five-foot-eleven-inch frame as he massaged the other boy’s horned up lap.  In fact, he barely moved at all.  His alluring brown eyes revealed a hunger the half-eaten sandwich could not fulfill.  Especially since the boy from Harper, Texas had yet to push him away.

“I’m glad you’re not,” said Anthony, an edge of lust in his voice.

“I…” Lee started to say.  He gulped-or tried to.  His mouth felt even drier than before.  He felt moisture though, embarrassingly so.  Beads of oily precum were leaking from the tip of his almost fully hard penis.  He could feel them soaking through the lower crotch of his shorts and into Anthony’s white sock.

“Hot,” said Anthony before shifting his foot slightly so his heel was now rolling against the wet spot in Lee’s shorts.  It told him exactly were the head of the boy’s cock was.

Lee knew Anthony shouldn’t be doing that to him.  Lee knew he shouldn’t be letting him.  But the foreign touch had instantly become addictive.  The fire in his loins was hot and energetic like nothing he’d ever known.  Touching himself had always been one thing.  Now, this was something else entirely.  And it was in public, their actions and reactions to each other totally exposed to the bustling convenience store.

“Hey,” Anthony said softly.  His voice was low but commanding.  Lee looked up at him slowly.  “Kiss it,” Anthony said flatly.

“Huh?”

Anthony nodded his head slightly.  “Kiss the top of my foot.  My toes.”

Lee looked down at the white, sock-covered foot pressed firmly against his lap.  Anthony’s toes were pointed straight up at him under their sheath of white cotton.  He questioned in his mind why he would ever do such a thing until, as he felt his head move and his lips touched the fabric stretched over Anthony’s big toe, he realized he already was.

Anthony sighed softly.  “Fuck yeah, bro.  That’s good.  More.”

Lee opened his pursed lips just enough to encircle the top of the sock-covered digit.  Without reason or thought he began to suckle on the boy’s big toe.  He felt his tongue tap it once, then twice.  Lee shifted in his seat to try to get more of Anthony’s foot.  Who was watching him? Could anyone see what they were doing?  Did Lee actually care in that moment?

Anthony felt Lee’s knee subtly graze and bump against his own as the boy in the tank top kissed the underside of his foot just below his toes.  Anthony moved his hand under the table, finding Lee’s knee and then the hem of his shorts leg.  His fingers caressed along the top of Lee’s thigh as they inched their way under the fabric.  He could feel the heat of Lee’s excitement and, as he leaned closer over the table, was nearly within reach of the boy’s pubis. His ring finger managed a single, feathery stroke of the soaking wet piss slit on the head of Lee’s engorged cock when-

“Five minutes,” the old bus driver yelled from the far side of the convenience store.  “Five minutes for everyone riding the bus north to Carlsbad and points beyond!”

Anthony’s fingers suddenly felt the cool, humid air of the store again.  His foot sank away from the plastic seat with a jarring THUMP.  He grunted from the dull pain that pulsed out of his heel when it hit the hard linoleum without warning.

“I have to go,” Lee said, practically out of breath as he jumped to his feet.  “I can’t miss my bus!”

“We still have five minutes,” Anthony said calmly.  He didn’t look up at Lee’s face as he spoke. Instead, his eyes were fixated on the swollen mound in the center of his pink shorts. The precum-damp hill led down to where the boy’s glistening glans were fully exposed past the loose cuff of the shorts leg.

“Damn, papi,” Anthony said with a smirk, impressed by the apparent size of the Lee’s endowment. He touched two fingers against the wet tip, catching a drop of precum that had begun to build up.

Lee looked down and felt the hot flash of embarrassment spread out over his face and most of his body.  There was no hiding his excited state. Then, he spotted his bookbag out of the corner of his eye.  “No,” Lee said, bending over hurriedly to grab the closest strap on his backpack.  “I can’t miss my bus.”

With that Lee yanked his bag off the dusty gas station floor, pressing it awkwardly against his front.  The pressure on his still excited manhood made the nervous eighteen-year-old grit his teeth and a pulse of his slick fluid splash against his backpack as he hurried past Anthony and out of the convenience store.

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Check out Part 2!