Triple Love - An Erick Chaplain story 1 - Sex Stories

Triple Love - An Erick Chaplain story 1

... out? Or does he just want to hang? I don't know. I can't tell. All I can tell is that for a split second I think about excusing myself so I can try Ralph again, but then Preston clears his throat and I'm pulled back. "Uh, yeah. Sure. What do you wanna do?" "I don't know," he says quietly. "I really don't know what's around." Something clicks in my head out of nowhere. "Wanna try a hand at danger?" "Damn," Preston laughs through the phone. "Already trying to kill me?" "I mean, wanna meet Jesus?" "Come again? Erick, I think you should know that I'm an atheist and-" "I don't care what you are," I say quickly, then panic at my rudeness. "I'm sorry. I cut you off." "It's all good in the hood, kid," Preston says. "So, tell me about our Lord and Savior?" I actually laugh at him harder than I intended, and he responds with a laugh, adding, "Attaboy! I knew I should have taken the comedy route but Mom got concerned, said, 'Why be a comedian when you can be a doctor or a lawyer or the next Nobel prize winner?' She's such a bitch. I should have listened to you all along." "You are funny," I say to him, then feel disappointed in myself. Why is it so easy for him to talk to me when I offer small sentences? It's driving me crazy. He's driving me crazy. And he's gay. He's actually gay. Is this fate. Were we meant to meet? "I'll take the fall for you..." He's been cracking jokes since the beginning, I'm just starting to see that now. I wonder if he's still wearing the beanie? And those ...

... glasses...goddamn. He looked good. I want to kiss every freckle on his face. I want to bite those lips. I want to... "Uh, you gonna talk about Jesus or what," he says, saying Jesus as a Hispanic name rather than the way church says was intended. "Sorry," I say back, face flushed. "I, uh..." "Do I make you nervous?" "What? No." I stop. Think about it. "Yes. Kind of. You're so natural with me. I have a hard time opening up to people." "I'm as shy as they come," he says quickly. "You just make me comfortable. I don't know why. Now, if you don't mind, JW, I wanna hear about this Jesus. For the third time." He clicks his tongue like seconds on a clock. "Ever hear of a boy named John Fitch?" Preston totally laughs on the other end of the line. Then he goes silent. I listen to him breathe. It's soothing. I want to say something but before I can he's yelling into the phone, "REPENT! YOU ALL MUST REPENT FOR YOUR SINS IF YOU WISH TO COME WITH ME! MY FATHER SAYS YOU'RE ALL BEAUTIFUL CREATURES BUT YOUR FUCKERY WITH LUCIFER HAS DARKENED YOUR SOULS!" "He did not say the word fuckery." "So I mad-libbed it," he says back. "You know him?" "He knows Chels. He moved on this side of the country. Changed his life. Became the prime example of 'It Gets Better'." "I'm down. I'll be ready by 8 am. I'll, uh, send you my address in the morning." In the background I can hear something that sounds like loud thuds. Preston clears his throat. "Hey, I gotta go, okay?" "Okay." A door slams on the receiver as he ...