"My Balls Itch Like a Bitch Lately"
I work at a place that is conducive to being around youth, which is sometimes invigorating and at other times (usually when it is before 8 am) surprisingly irritating. It can make me feel like a man, and no longer a boy.
Right now there are two boys sitting near me, in their late teens, and the sexual air between them is palpable. They could not look more different, they are almost different species.
One is tall, red-haired and snub-nosed. He wears his orange shirt like a badge, his baggy stonewashed jeans like he can't wait to take them off. He is huge, barrel-chested, and deep voiced. He never stops moving his big eraser-like hands, he grabs his crotch and adjusts himself incessantly. He takes pride in drinking coffee at a young age and enjoys trying to force his smaller friend to drink it too.
The other is slight and short. He wears glasses and his dark curly hair rests against his smooth yet acne recovering skin like a baby with dirty thoughts. His thin arms are confident, his voice is higher pitched. He makes up for this by saying what I think he thinks are manly statements, like: "Back home my room is freezing, just the way I like it!" or "Dude! Dude, my balls itch like a bitch lately!".
They can't take their eyes off of each other.
I want, so badly, as if the world were a musical, for them to take each others hands. They would jump on top of the table and throw coffees and teenage caution to the wind. They would profess their love for each other in rhyme and scheme, they would profess their love for each other with youthful honesty and tenderness. And then they would kiss, and the strings would punch in, destroying everyone's reality and expectation with the power of their desire for each other.
A moment ago, when they got up to leave I made a joke. Either the joke was bad or they didn't hear me--I wasn't even acknowledged. They just kept looking at each other, talking about god knows what, looking at each other and laughing. I imagine they are going somewhere, high on caffeine, to make love. Yes, make love. Because these are boys too new at anything to call it sex. The little one will fuck the big one and his thin fingers will run through his coarse red hair until they cum on each other and fall asleep in each other's different sized arms. They are young enough to give themselves entirely. Their ribbons of semen will resist for a moment, like the membrane of an egg white, and then break into each other until it is impossible to tell where one started and the other ended, before it dries.
Right now there are two boys sitting near me, in their late teens, and the sexual air between them is palpable. They could not look more different, they are almost different species.
One is tall, red-haired and snub-nosed. He wears his orange shirt like a badge, his baggy stonewashed jeans like he can't wait to take them off. He is huge, barrel-chested, and deep voiced. He never stops moving his big eraser-like hands, he grabs his crotch and adjusts himself incessantly. He takes pride in drinking coffee at a young age and enjoys trying to force his smaller friend to drink it too.
The other is slight and short. He wears glasses and his dark curly hair rests against his smooth yet acne recovering skin like a baby with dirty thoughts. His thin arms are confident, his voice is higher pitched. He makes up for this by saying what I think he thinks are manly statements, like: "Back home my room is freezing, just the way I like it!" or "Dude! Dude, my balls itch like a bitch lately!".
They can't take their eyes off of each other.
I want, so badly, as if the world were a musical, for them to take each others hands. They would jump on top of the table and throw coffees and teenage caution to the wind. They would profess their love for each other in rhyme and scheme, they would profess their love for each other with youthful honesty and tenderness. And then they would kiss, and the strings would punch in, destroying everyone's reality and expectation with the power of their desire for each other.
A moment ago, when they got up to leave I made a joke. Either the joke was bad or they didn't hear me--I wasn't even acknowledged. They just kept looking at each other, talking about god knows what, looking at each other and laughing. I imagine they are going somewhere, high on caffeine, to make love. Yes, make love. Because these are boys too new at anything to call it sex. The little one will fuck the big one and his thin fingers will run through his coarse red hair until they cum on each other and fall asleep in each other's different sized arms. They are young enough to give themselves entirely. Their ribbons of semen will resist for a moment, like the membrane of an egg white, and then break into each other until it is impossible to tell where one started and the other ended, before it dries.
posted by themerrygo at 6:40 PM
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