Boxers

Irish Spring

Title: Irish Spring
Rating: Mild R


“Achoo!” That’s the fifth time I’ve sneezed in the last five minutes. My eyes are starting to water and my sinuses sting.

“You gettin’ a cold?” Henry is elbow deep in a Pontiac, changing the timing belt. Man who left it this morning wants it back by the time we close up tonight so he better hurry up, it’s almost five.

“Nuh-uh, just got some dust in my nose probably.” The kind of dust that comes in a the form of a clean white bar that foams like crazy the minute it gets wet. A customer rolls up just then so I run out and ask him what kind of gas he wants. Good timing too, there’s hardly any dust in the garage but Henry will forget all about that by the time I’ve got the guy’s windows cleaned, his tank filled up and get him on his way.

Last night Daddy held the piece of paper that had been torn out of my notebook tightly in his hand. “So what’s this then, huh?” He read the note for a long time even though there were only a few lines scrawled on it. His thin frame was rigid and his voice let me know I wasn’t going to get off easy. As if I ever do, as if I ever want to.

“She said you had to sign it and I need to bring it back before I can come to class again.” My eyes are glued to the floor. I try to picture the sweet high school teacher who was appalled by such language interrupting her advanced placement English class. I can’t get a good image so I think about a sitcom I used to watch when I was a kid and put the mom from that into the scenario. Perfect.

It’s been eleven years since I dropped out of high school but even when I was enrolled I barely went. The things I remember come from TV just as much as real life. Luckily I’ve seen enough of each that I can play the game and when I wear the right clothes and pull my cap down low I can pass for fifteen, no problem. Daddy likes that, almost as much as I do.

“What were you thinking Chris? You know better than to talk like that. It’s disrespectful. You know how it looks when you behave that way? Looks like I didn’t raise you right, that what you want people to think?” His flannel shirt is splattered with engine grease and I have to hold myself back from reaching out to wipe away the smudge by his ear. I’m glad he didn’t wash up before asking how my day was. It’s so much better like this. Kind of wish I’d spent a little more time writing the note though, made it look more like a teacher wrote it, instead of a drop-out who pumps gas for a living.

“No. I’m sorry, it just slipped out. Didn’t mean anything by it.” I hope he grabs me, the grease’ll show up good on my white t-shirt.

“Just slipped out huh? That mean you got a whole stockpile of filthy language just waiting on your tongue? Makes us look like trash when you talk like that. Dirty white trash. That what you want people to think?”

“No, I’m sorry. I’ll do better, I promise.” I start rocking, trying to get the tears to come, but they won’t. It’s not enough. Walking backwards I lead him over to the sink where a fresh bar of soap sits on the edge, the brand name still visible on its surface.

“Well sorry’s all good and well but it don’t fix nothin’. Gotta make sure you think twice before runnin’ your mouth again. Figure the only solution to a dirty mouth is cleanin’ it up.”

Swallowing hard, I only stop moving when my lower back bumps into the sink.

“Now you know this is for your own good. If you’re really sorry you’re gonna make it easy on yourself, no fighting. Understand?”

Closing my eyes, I nod. He’ll make sure I do better.

At fist it’s not too bad, just feels like having a big chunk of wax in your mouth. He grabs a handful of my short black hair and pulls back, tugging a little when I don’t open my mouth right away.

“Open up, gotta make you clean, wash those bad words away.”

I do as he says and let my jaw drop open. The bar fills up my whole mouth and I immediately think about how I’m glad I stopped by the store after work and bought a new bar instead of using the one we wash dishes with. Don’t want to taste soapy spaghetti, or soapy Sloppy Joes for that matter. This doesn’t taste like anything really, not yet at least. His hand feels good on my hair, pulling just enough to let me know he’s got things under control but not enough to hurt me. His other hand holds on to the soap firmly, maybe he’s afraid it will slip away and choke me. My saliva begins to build and the soap is beginning to taste less like wax and more like chemicals. That just makes the spit accumulate faster. I try to swallow but it stings. Tapping the counter with my hand I show him that I’m choking. He pushes my head up quickly and I can feel myself drool all over my shirt.

“Stick out your tongue.” His voice is firm but he’s not mad anymore, he’s doing this because I need it. I do as he says, embarrassed that my spit is making a mess of things but unable to stop it. Once my tongue is all the way out he begins rubbing the soap against it hard. I immediately gag so he eases up, quickly finding the right amount of pressure. With all the spit I’m producing the lather builds up fast and I know I must be foaming at the mouth. I’m glad I’ve got my eyes closed because this is turning me on like I can’t believe, but if I saw myself I’d probably die laughing, must look like Cujo right about now.

“You gonna cuss anymore?” He’s leaning against me and I realize that my shirt must be getting filthy so I rub up against him.

“Uh-uh” His palm is pressed against the back of my head, keeping it steady. I gently push back into it. Nothing gives, which makes me gasp, causing me to swallow a few more suds.

“You gonna be a good boy, speak politely, like you were raised, like I taught you?” I can feel his fingertips digging lightly into my scalp.

“Uh-huh” My tongue is tired. The muscles in the back are strained.

He’s whispering into my ear now. “I know you will. You’re a good boy, I’m real proud of you. Know you won’t embarrass me like that again. Not after we get you all cleaned up, wash all the bad things away.”

I just nod, dropping my mouth further down onto the soap, knowing that he won’t stop until I’m pure again.
Boxers

Clear

                “Daddy?”

            “Yeah?”

            “Nothing, just checking.”

            I can’t see anything. We got a better blindfold, this one really works.  The last one let a little bit of light through, ruined things for me, so he made me this new one.  My arms are getting numb. I’m going to have to ask him to let me up soon.  I wish that my body was made out of something that could take it all, but I guess the fact that it can’t is what makes the things we do feel so good.  A few more minutes can’t hurt, the prickling is distracting though. I wish it would go away and I could just be numb. He says that I have to tell him before that happens because it’s dangerous to let it go that far.

            This is the best it’s ever been. I’m kneeling on the floor, curled up with my hands tied behind my back and my head resting on the carpet. The new towel we got is really thick. It was the nicest one they had at the store, so my knees don’t hurt like they usually do.  He told me to pick the color.  I got black, figured we wouldn’t have to wash it as much as the other ones. He said it would look good against my pale skin.  I was proud of my choice.

            He starts rubbing my arms kind of hard, digging in with his thumbs, pushing and pulling. The prickling goes away. “Not too much longer, okay? You’ve been down a long time.”       

            “All right.”

            Earlier my mind was clear, but now I’m thinking about what we’ll do after this.  Will he leave me in here alone? Will he go outside to work on the truck? Into the living room to watch TV? Will he take me out back and rinse me off like I want him to? Will he let the cool water run over my skin.  It’s so humid out. No one would think anything of it if they saw us running the water.  I’ll have to wash the towel tonight, it’s soaked. I’m not sure why I let it happen, I’ve never done that before. I was curled up just like this and he was rubbing my back real slow. When he got down to where my kidneys are I felt this urgent need to go all of a sudden. I guess I could have held, it but I didn’t want to. I was afraid I might make a mess because I had to go really bad. It didn’t though; it just trickled over my stomach and down my legs. I don’t think he noticed; he just kept rubbing. That was when the tears started, which he couldn’t see either because of the blindfold. When it was over I felt sort of nervous, like maybe I shouldn’t have done it. He kept rubbing; slow, gentle circles, over and over, never pausing. 

            “All right, come on now, sit up.” He says it in a hushed tone, like he’s waking me from a long nap.  I don’t make any attempt to move on my own, but I don’t resist when he pulls at my shoulders either.  My hands are still tied, so he steadies me, keeps me from losing my balance. When I’m sitting all the way up, I lean back some. I can feel the moisture around my knees and my skin feels damp. The smell is pretty strong, I wonder how wet everything is.  As I close my eyes I’m grateful for the blindfold, I don’t want to see his expression when he realizes what I’ve done. “What happened here, huh?” He’s not really asking, just realizing what I did.  I feel his fingers graze the front of my boxers and I’m embarrassed, I’ve never done anything like that before.  He lifts off the blindfold, messing up my hair some as he pulls it off of my head.  My eyes are still closed when he leans over to kiss my forehead.  “Let’s clean you up.”

            I follow him to the bathroom, but when he steps inside I tug at his wrist; I want to go outside and lay in the grass. The air outside is thick and warm; everything is cast in deep purple shadows. It must be close to eight o’clock. “I guess I was down for a long time, huh? It didn’t feel that long.”  The sun had been shining brightly when he took the rope out of the drawer we keep it in.

            “Yeah, think maybe you fell asleep for a bit too.”

            “Did you?”     

            “No.”

            It’s dark enough that I’m not worried about anyone passing by and wondering what we are up to, so I spread out on my back in the cool grass.  He turns on the hose and tests the water with a couple of fingers.  I love the way the water feels when the hose has been sitting out in the sun all day.  It’s like having liquid silk rubbed all over you.  Lawrence always says we should keep it coiled up in the shade. Says it will last longer, gonna get cracks if we leave it out like we do. 

            Once he has the water pressure right Daddy drags the hose over, making sure that it’s lying flat, no kinks.  I raise my arms above my head and he starts on my chest like he always does, letting the water flow over me and down my sides.  It tickles a little at first but I try not to move too much, I try to focus on the way it feels washing over me.  Moving down, he holds it over my stomach and I arch up some because that’s my favorite place.  He sways it back and forth lazily and suck in my breath some when I feel it flow back over my nipples.  Farther down he soaks my boxers and I spread my legs a little more so that he won’t miss a spot. 

            “Inside?”

            “Yes please.”

            He lifts the waistband of my shorts up with two fingers and slides the nozzle beneath the fabric. It feels nice but it’s not enough.  “Can you turn it up some?”

Standing up, he walks over to the spigot and suddenly I feel a rush of water push against me.  He lets it run for a little while before pulling the hose back out and rinsing off my legs.

            “Anywhere else?” Sometimes I like him to do my back too, but not tonight. My back’s already had enough attention for today. I do want it somewhere else though, somewhere I’ve never had it before.  Spreading my legs a little bit wider, I try to create a gap at the bottom of my boxers but it’s no use, they’re soaked and sticking to my skin. “Where?” I reach down and push my hand up one leg of my shorts. 

            “Turn it on as high as it will go first though.” 

            It’s getting too dark to see but I can hear the water gushing after he gets to the spigot. He comes back over and kneels down, picking up the hose.

            “Ready?”

            “Yeah.”

            He pushes the nozzle up one leg of my boxers and the stream hits my dick hard, making me flinch. It’s going to feel so good when he gets the angle right.  “How’s that?”

            “Good, just a little lower and a lot farther in.”  He repositions the hose which makes the stream hit my balls in a steady rhythm.  I want him to pull my boxers off and shove them into my mouth so that I can make all the noises I want with no one being  able to hear me.

            “Here, you hold it.” I take the hose and move it around, ending up shoving it beneath me.  Once I’ve got it where I need it he takes my dick and starts to pull hard. I feel a jolt run through me and I don’t know if I’m going to piss or come. I let go, knowing the water will wash it all away.

Boxers

Clean

“Raise up some, just a little higher.”

 

“I can’t, it’s gonna come out.”  I think I might cry so I bite down on my lip some.

 

“No, it won’t. I’m holding it, don’t worry, it’ll be okay.’

 

I’m not sure, it feels like it could slip out really easily. We put extra towels down on the bed though so I guess it’ll be all right. I raise my backside a little bit higher into the air and I can feel his rough hand gently rubbing the backs of my thighs, pushing me forward some. I’ve been on my knees in front of him before, but I’ve never felt like this. He pushes the tube in a little farther and I feel the warm water pour into me.

 

“Daddy?” My voice is shaking a little, I’m getting kind of scared. He said there might be cramping but now that it’s happening I don’t know what to do. It hurts.

 

“Shhh. It’s okay, I’m gonna stop it for a minute, just breathe. You’re doing so good.” I drop my head down and breathe through my mouth like he showed me. My stomach begins to loosen up.  As I breathe he rubs my back in slow, even circles. When he asked me if I wanted to do this I didn’t really know. He told me how nice it felt. How I’d feel really safe and protected. How when it was over I wouldn’t believe how light and clean I’d be. He said that his mom used to give them to him all the time when he was a kid and now that he was grown up he gave them to himself when he needed something to help him feel better. “How’s that?”

 

“Better.” The cramps are gone and my whole body is buzzing. My stomach feels warm and tight. His hand travels down my side, around to my stomach.

 

“I’m gonna rub your belly a little bit okay? Tell me if it hurts.” It doesn’t hurt, it feels amazing. My dick starts to respond and I don’t know if that’s okay but there’s not much I can do about it so I just try to relax. “Feels good, huh?” He keeps smoothing his hand over me. I wonder if he can see how hard I’m getting.

 

“Yeah.” It comes out as a whisper.

 

“You ready for some more?” I love how his voice sounds, all gentle and calm. When we fuck it’s usually rough and demanding which I like too, but this is a whole different thing.

 

“I think so. Could you just…I don’t know, touch me?” Is it okay to ask? This isn’t like regular sex. Maybe I’m not supposed to want that. He takes his hand away for a few seconds. When he puts it back he slides it underneath me and holds my dick. He must have licked his thumb because it feels warm and slippery when he rubs it right beneath my head.

 

“That feel good?” I don’t want to talk anymore so I just nod heaviliy.  His hand feels so nice. He’s not jerking me off, just rubbing little circles while he holds me tight. My stomach feels really full, I don’t think I can take much more. He said that this was a pretty small bag; that we should start with this one since it’s my first time. The fact that I’m doing this at all is pushing myself.  When he first started to tell me about it I thought it sounded gross.  I’d heard of people having them but it was for when they were having medical problems, not when they were fooling around. He says a lot of people do it, which I’m not too sure about, but it doesn’t matter whether they do or not. What matters is that he’s doing this for me. It’s like he’s giving me a present and watching me open it really slowly, gauging my reaction. 

 

“It’s almost empty, you all right?”

 

“Uh-huh.” I’m glad that I didn’t have to tell him to stop; any more and I would have had to.

 

“Okay, now you’re just going to hold it. If you rock back and forth some it’ll help move things around but for right now you should stay still. Just close your eyes and try to relax, I’m right here.”  I do as he says and try to focus on how it feels. The room is warm and I can hear the heater humming. The towels underneath my knees are thick and soft, I hope I don’t mess them up. Now that the bag is empty his hand is free so he goes back to rubbing my back. His other hand stays on my dick, I hope he doesn’t let go. Suddenly my stomach starts to tense up again. I’m not sure how long I’ve been holding it but he said we should try for about ten minutes. I don’t think it’s been that long.

 

“Daddy?” Talking makes it hurt worse.

 

“You cramping?”

 

“Mm-hmm.”

 

“All right, just breathe, it’ll pass.”  He drops his hand back down to my belly and starts rubbing gently. The tension fades and I can feel my normally flat stomach expand. I drop my shoulders some. “It gone?”

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“You want to feel it?” He takes one of my hands and runs it over my stomach, it feels round and tight. “You’re doing really good, the longer you hold it, the better it will feel when you let it go.”

 

“Are you going to watch?” I don’t want him to. Giving this to me is one thing but watching me in the bathroom is something else all together.

 

“Do you want me to?”  I can feel my face burning up.

 

“No, I think I want to be by myself for that part.”

 

“That’s okay. I’ll help you get in there and then you just take it out and let go. You’re not going to believe how good it feels. Once you’re all done you’ll be so clean we can try some new stuff okay?”

 

“All right.” I wonder what ‘new stuff’ he means, I have a pretty good idea and it makes my heart beat a little bit faster.

 

“It’s about time, you still doing okay?”

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“All right. See if you can rock back and forth a little bit without it hurting.” I start moving around and I’m hit with an urgent need to let go.

 

“I gotta get up.” I walk to the bathroom quickly, not waiting for an answer. He’s right behind me holding the stuff.  He hands it to me and turns around, closing the door behind him fast.  I can hear him through the door.

 

“Just pull it out, everything else will take care of itself.” I sit down and do as he says. Everything rushes out and I groan involuntarily. Once I’m sure there’s nothing left I flush and then take a quick shower. If we’re going to focus on me being clean I might as well be really clean. He was right, I feel so much lighter. I can’t believe all of that stuff was inside of me.  When I come back out I see that he’s taken all the towels off of the bed and turned off the heater. I lay down and he crawls on top of me, kissing me deep. “Did you like it?”

 

“Yeah. I feel…better.”

 

“Good.” He slides down and settles between my legs where he spends a long time doing new stuff to me.