I click on the next image in the series, bringing up on the monitor a brunette. She is bent over, riding a well built Asian guy. I run my eyes over their bodies, taking in their position. I move along to the next image, clicking on it. I stroke myself as the page loads, leaning back further into the computer chair, spreading my legs and cupping my balls.

The image loads and it belongs to the same set, the good looking Asian and the girl. Only this time he is on top, pushing deep into her. I increase the speed of my hand, sliding up and down my length, approaching release. My fingers daring to push at my entrance as my other hand grips tighter around my shaft.

I focus on the picture in front of me, wanting to feel someone else’s skin on mine. The friction from my strokes are becoming too much to take and I am nearing climax. I push my fingers in, almost bringing myself to peak with the sense of fullness.

A few more strokes and I am sure to empty my heavy load. My palm expertly moves up and down my length, coaxing my throbbing head. The intensity builds at the bottom of my sac, becoming more intense with each stoke.

I focus on the Asian, the one pounding the girl and a grunt escapes my lips. I push my fingers in further, bucking my hips up to meet them. My eyes fall close as I dare to picture myself getting fucked, daring even further to picture someone I know.

I close my eyes, seeing his face above me, imagining him inside me…

“Mike,” I let slip from between my lips.

BANG BANG

I withdraw my fingers from myself and scramble to raise my jeans over my hips.

A large shadowy figure stands just outside the window. The same window where the abrupt sounds of glass rattling continues to pierce through to my heart.

I stand, quickly buttoning the snap of my jeans. I fix my eyes on the window, watching the shadowy outline from behind the blinds. The indistinguishable figure steps away from the window.

I close down the internet browser and creep out of the computer room.

Who the fuck is banging on Mike’s windows?

Who the fuck is outside?

BANG BANG

What the fuck is going on?

BANG BANG

On my hands and knees, I crawl down the hall and under an undisturbed window, stopping to push back the blind just enough to see. Nothing. No one and no car in the driveway.

I hear pounding on glass coming from the next room over, the living room.

No one knows I’m here, right? I mean Mike’s car is gone and he picked me up this morning, so my car is home and…

BANG BANG

My heart skips at least six beats as I push up against the hall wall and out of sight. Nervous sweat forms on my forehead and my heart races with fear. They are standing just outside the hall window. I hold my breath, hoping not to be seen or heard.

BANG BANG

The glass clearly shakes from the pounding fists.

BANG BANG

The beating uneasily rattles the windowpane again, before abruptly stopping.

I hurry down the narrow hallway, eyeing my cell phone that is laying on the kitchen table.

Hearing another round of pounding on the computer room window, I make a mad dash for my cell. Grabbing it and cowering in the corner, I crouch down of view. I try to steady myself on my feet, resting my head against the oak cabinets. I open the phone, feeling my heart rapidly jumping in my chest, I quickly dial Mike’s number.

RING----RING----RING---- “Yo, it’s Shinoda. Drop me a line and I’ll get back with ya.”

Redial.

RING----RING----RING---- “Yo, it’s Shinoda. Drop me a line and I’ll get back with ya.”

Redial.

“Come on Mike, pick the fuck up,” I whisper to no one.

RING----RING--BANG BANG

I close the phone and the knocking gets heavier, the brass doorknob to the front door turns in place.

I waddle to the silverware drawer, pulling it out on the track. I take out a steak knife.

My phone sounds in my other hand and I quickly silence the tone, answering with, “Mike, where the fuck are you?”

I eye the door, watching the knob twist again.

“About three minutes out.”

“There’s someone banging on the fucking windows!”

“Yeah, I know. It’s Dave,” he laughs out seemingly amused at my terrified tone.

“What the fuck is he doing?” I yell, getting angry and standing up off the floor.

“Maybe he’s trying to get you to answer the door?” he quips, amusement leaking from his voice.

I can see him smiling over the phone. They think this is freaking hilarious. A fucking riot.

I slam the phone shut, putting down the knife on the kitchen table. Reluctantly, I open the front door, still weary that it is truly Dave, but knowing Mike wouldn’t lie to me.

“About time, Bennington! What were you doing in there? Jerking off?” he teases, standing there with his hands in his pockets and smiling at me.

I know my face is crimson. He couldn’t of seen me, could he? Fuck.

“What do you want?” I rudely ask, ignoring his comment.

“I left my wallet here. You seen it?” he asks, stepping forward.

“No!” I scream back at him.

“What crawled up your ass today?” he looks at me, puzzled.

“Just get your wallet and get out,” I say, moving out of the door frame and letting him into Mike’s house.

“What did I do to you?” he defensively questions, but I can see his smile bleeding through.

“You scared the shit out of me, you asshole!”

“What? Just now?” he smirks.

“I hate you,” I say matter-of-factly.

“Man, you have some serious issues,” he teases, clearly beaming now.

I push him back against the wall in the foyer, gripping his tee shirt and twisting the fabric, knotting it tight around his throat and drawing back my fist.

“Chester!”

I quickly let Dave out of my hold, turning around to face Mike.

“I-” I start to explain, but Mike cuts me off.

“What is wrong with you?” he questions, clearly disappointed.

“Me? He was trying to give me a heart attack! What is wrong with me?”

“All I did was knock on the door,” Dave pleas to Mike.

“You rattled all the fucking windows!”

“You wouldn’t answer the door!” Dave defends.

“I didn’t hear you!” I admit.

“Which is why I told him to knock on the computer room window,” Mike says.

“YOU?” I glare at Mike, who is still standing in the doorway.

“I didn’t know that it would scare you. I just figured that you were in there.” he says, trying to drop his cheeky grin.

“His car wasn’t in the driveway,” I try to explain.

“I parked on the street,” Dave elaborates.

“Yeah, so you could fucking scare me!”

They laugh.

I thought I was going to be robbed, beaten, and/or raped, and all they can do is laugh.

“Fuck both of you!” I scream, storming out of the house, shoving past Mike and pushing off his attempt to hold me in place.

“Where are you going?” he questions me, staying on my heels.

I turn and shout at him, “To get new friends!”

“Aw, come on. You don’t mean that,” he cools, reaching out to touch me.

“You know that I don’t like to be scared,” I find myself pouting to him, stepping in closer to his embrace.

“I know,” he pulls me in for a hug, “I’m sorry for suggesting that he should beat on the window.”

“Chester,” Dave calls.

I look over to him and step back from Mike.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you worked up.”

I nod, wanting this whole situation to go away. I cock my eyebrows at Mike, prompting him to apologize again as well, but he doesn’t. I cross my arms in an poor attempt to pout.

“Well, I found my wallet. So… I guess, I’m off guys,” he walks towards us and places a friendly hand on my shoulder, “I really am sorry, Chaz.”

I nod again and he walks off, leaving us still standing in the front yard.

“Why are you being so mean to me?” I pout to Mike, once we are alone.

“Maybe, I like to get you worked up?” he teases, running a playful hand in my hair.

“It’s not funny!” I insist, shooing his hand off.

He laughs at me anyways. I stare him down and he tries to rid himself of his smile.

“Mike.” I whine, wanting him to apologize again.

“Chester," he mocks in a whinny tone, shaking his head.

“You officially suck.”

“Come here,” he pulls me into a bear hug, wrapping his arms around my upper body.

I find myself returning the hug, burring my face into his crook of his warm neck. He still smells like he just got out of the shower, his shampoo must be new. Citrus, maybe? I inhale his scent, taking comfort in his arms.

‘Chester?” he questions, humor returning to his voice.

“Mmh?” I let go some so I can see his smiling face.

“I know that I’m sexy and all, but could you get your boner off me,” he laughs out.

Oh my god, when did I get hard?

“Care to explain?”

“I…I…um…” I stumble over my words, begging for an coherent sentence to form.

“I thought that you didn’t like to be scared,” he teases me some more, dropping his hands from around my back to settle on my hipbone.

“I don’t!”

“Apparently you do, unless you suddenly have a thing for me?” he challenges, pulling me closer into him, pressing us together.

“Define suddenly,” I nervously flirt, hoping he will soon stop his questions and let go of me.

He likes to flirt. To tempt. But, he never takes it further than just words.

“Unexpectedly, out of the blue, without warning,” he says into my ear, daring to lightly run his hand over my bulge.

“Can we go back inside now?” I ask, trying to change the subject and ignore his hand that is groping my crotch. My aching crotch.

Does he even know what he is doing to me?

“After you explain yourself,” he whispers into my ear, rubbing me with more conviction through my jeans.

Well, lets see. While you were gone to get the pizza, I was horny as fuck, so I started looking at porn on your computer and I was about to blow my load when Dave decided to test how good my heart is…and now you decide to press yourself up against me when all I can fantasize about lately is you.

Sound like a good enough explanation?

“There is nothing to explain,” I manage to get out, trying hard not to think about his hand that is fondling my erection.

“Your hard,” he points out again, squeezing it.

I let out a erotic moan and he squeezes me again.

“So I am. What do you expect when your hand is on my dick,” I try to come across secure and confident.

“Mmm, maybe some more appreciation?” he purrs into my ear.

“What do you have in mind?” I dare to ask.

“I was thinking that we could help each other out,” he whispers out, fumbling with my zipper.

“We’re still outside,” I point out, hanging my head low, resting it on his shoulder.

I feel myself stiffen to full length as his hand slides past my cotton boxers and his fingers brush across me.

“So we are,” he brings me closer to him, pulling me through the opening of my jeans, taking me into his hand and exposing my manhood.

“Fuck,” I moan out, pushing our bodies closer together as he slides his hands back and forth, down my length.

“Agh, Mike.” I whine, wanting to be closer to him and out of his front yard.

“What is it, Chester?” he teases, slowing his pace.

“Lets go inside, please.”

“Why, you scared someone might see?”

His pace quickens and I can feel myself nearing climax.

“Agh, fuck.”

“Such dirty words, Chester,” he teases, slowing the rhythm of his strokes and leaning his mouth down to nibble on my earlobe.

“Mike please.” I beg, becoming more paranoid of getting caught.

“Please what, Chester?” he taunts, leaning down to nibble on my ear again and tightening his grip around my shaft.

He movements speed up, forcefully fondling me. He pushes me back some, adding some space in-between us. He places one hand on my shoulder as he looks out into the suburban road.

“Be still or he’ll see,” he whispers out, still working me.

Who will see? Fuck. Who just pulled up?

“I can’t last,” I honestly tell him, feeling the excitement of getting caught.

“Mike, I can’t. I’m going to-” I hopelessly whine, wanting nothing more than to release into his hand.

“Don’t,” he huskily instructs, but doesn’t stop working me.

I hear a car window roll down and the engine turn off.

“Hey guys, what’s up?”

Feeling the warmth of Mike’s hand moving around me and hearing Brad’s voice brings me to the bleak edge. The absolute edge of spilling myself between us.

“Hey, Big Bad,” Mike replies in his normal voice, calling out to him in the distance, still working me.

I am trying everything I can do here, not to shoot off as Mike’s artist hands skillfully jerk me with passion. Clear insanity, as we are in his front yard and he is talking to Brad. Unbelievable. I can’t believe him. I can’t believe Brad hasn’t noticed. I… fuck I’m going to cum.

I softly whimper. Thankfully, he gets the message and finally slows his pace.

“Nothing much, just saw Dave off.”

“Oh, I already missed him?”

“Yeah, he just left,” he says, his hand picking back up the pace, vigorously sliding down to the base then back up to my throbbing head.

I whimper again.

“Oh, do you know where he was headed?”

“Yeah to your house,” he steps closer to me, turning us slightly to the left, but he continues to stoke.

I pathetically whimper again, feeling my balls tighten and my pre-cum lube his movements.

“Oh, well I guess I better try and catch him.”

Mike jerks harder on me now, locking eyes with me and calling out to Brad, “Alright, man. I’ll call you later.”

“Bye,” Brad calls from the road, starting his car back up.

Thank God he is leaving.

“Bye, Chaz!” he shouts from his car.

“Later,” I finally find my voice, turning my head in his direction and lazily waving to him as he drives off.

“You are so fucking hard, Chester,” Mike whispers out to me, coating his hand with my pre-cum.

The sound of him gliding over my shaft and his thumb tracing over my pulsing head, mixed with the sound of my name coming from his lips is enough to send me over the edge.

“So fucking hard, Chester.”

I spill myself, shooting jets of thick cum in his hand. Some squirts make their way to the front of his shorts. His shoes. I fall over into him, moaning with pleasure.

He gives a few more pumps, draining another jet, making sure to deplete me entirely.

“Wow,” I whisper into his ear as he withdraws his hand from my softening length.

“Yeah,” he sheepishly says, looking down at the ground.

“Aw, you're not going to get shy on me, are you?” I tease, knowing he is uncomfortable with the fact that he just got me off.

I didn’t even have to prompt him. I never would have thought he would touch me like that. Nonetheless, without me first getting him drunk or stoned, maybe both. Sure, I have thought about it, but I would never act on it. He means too much to me to pressure him into something he doesn't want.

He nervously laughs, holding his head down low.

I know that he must be struggling with his own thoughts right now and I don’t want him to over think anything for another second.

“Mike,” I call for him to look up at me.

He sniffles.

“Mike,” I try again.

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice soft and fragile.

“Do you think that you... would be okay,” I step forward, pausing my words to seductively trail my hand over the wet mess I made that is coating the front of his shorts, “with me helping you get cleaned up?”

He nervously laughs again, but looks back up at me.

Yeah, that’s right buddy, I want to get you off too.

“Maybe, you want me to help you with this?” I ask, squeezing his rigid tent.

He moans and I can feel myself twitch again.

“Is that a yes?” I ask, cupping him, feeling myself getting turned on by finally touching him in the places that I have craved for.

“Well?” I provoke, massaging the back of his neck with my other hand.

He nervously nods.

Good.