RightTurnOnBlack Chapter3: HotDog [Part 1/4] (mm/f, rom, fp, or, an, (voy))

	Darkness was being swept away as I unloaded my skis at the school
parking lot that Friday morning.  It looked like a nice day was
shaping up weather-wise.  The sun, not yet having emerged from the
forested horizon, was glowing the sky a pale pinky orange.  There was
a small breeze blowing a clean 40-degree air around.  Clouds were
strangers, and a crisp atmosphere was the order of the day.  
	The day was perfect for skiing: I was wearing some long underwear and
a pair of corduroys, a turtleneck, a light sweater and a windbreaker. 
A hat would probably not be needed today, but I had one tucked in my
waist pack along with some shades and a stash of cash.  My ski gloves
hung from a jacket zipper.  Usually skiing means wearing four or five
layers, in order to combat single digit or lower temperatures.  Days
like this were gems that were only dreamed about later in the season
when winter set in for good.
	Despite the low light I squinted a bit and scanned the groups of
people gathered around the school entrance.  There were perhaps twenty
people.  It was only 6 a.m., and the bus wouldn't leave for 30 minutes
so I was not disappointed yet.
	I waved to my mom as she pulled away, and carried my gear over to the
curb.  The bus had not arrived yet, so I leaned up against the railing
to wait.
	Michelle had called Tuesday night to set up a meeting time to finish
our Latin translation.

	"Rob, it's for you!" called my dad.
	"Hello?" I said.
	"Hi Rob," said a female voice.
	"Hey Michelle.  What's up?"
	"Not much since two hours ago."
	"Yeah," I laughed.
	"Are you busy on Saturday?"
	"Not really," I said.
	"Do you want to finish the translation sometime that night?"
	"Sure.  I'm free all night."
	"Me too," she said.
	"Pick a time."
	"I'm done eating at 7, so how about 8?"
	"That's cool," I said.
	"Do you want to meet at my house, or yours, it doesn't matter."
	"I guess there, if that's O.K.  My dad might be having friends over
for wine and prosciutto."
	"What's that?" she asked.
	"It's an Italian cured ham.  It's good.  We make our own."
	"Wow.  That must be... interesting."
	"Well, you just missed it.  We made some a few weeks ago."
	"Is that what you are trying?" she asked.
	"No, they are trying some other one a friend made a while ago."
	"Well, O.K.  Let's meet at my house then, at 8."
	"Alright," I confirmed.  I hesitated a second.  "Any news on the ski
trip?"
	"Oh.  Yeah, I mean, I don't know.  I might have to stay home and be
with my family.  But probably not."
	"Probably not going?"
	"No, I mean probably I can go.  Can you pay when you get to the bus?"
	"Yeah.  You just need a letter from your parents giving you
permission to go.  It's stupid, but I guess some kid went and broke
his leg and the parents were pissed and were gonna sue or something. 
Apparently he went without telling them."
	"That's bad.  How much is the trip, and where do you leave from?"
	I gave her all the relevant details.
	"Well, I'll try and make it if my dad lets me off," she said.
	"O.K.  Maybe I'll see you on Friday," I said hopefully, "or if not,
then on Saturday night."
	"Yeah.  See you."
	"Bye."
	
	A few more kids had pulled into the lot.  Luke and Debbie were coming
on the trip, but they weren't there yet.
	With the weather as it was, normally I would be feeling really good,
but, anxious to see if Michelle would show up, I was feeling uneasy. 
I had not heard from her since our conversation, so I was antsy,
occasionally pacing the sidewalk a few steps.  I had worked up an
interest in her over the last few days, and not knowing if she was
coming was enhancing that liking quite a bit.
	A few cars pulled in to the drive.  Michael, a friend my age from
when we were in middle school, and his sister Valerie, stepped out of
one car.  Michael had changed from when I was a friend with him; he
used to be nice, cool to hang out with, but when he got to high school
he got into an arrogant, annoying phase.  I started being irritated
with him in freshman year, and the summer break after that had killed
any wish to remain on good terms with him.  He didn't seem to notice
or care, however, and he would talk to me like we were still friends. 
Sometimes I felt bad about being cold to him, but he was the cause of
it.
	His sister Valerie was a senior, and a great girl.  I knew her pretty
well, since I used to hang out a Michael's house a lot.  I guess I'd
say she was an acquaintance.  She was tall, taller than I was, and
thin.  She had yellow stretchy ski pants on that, poking out from
under a bulky wool sweater, looked like toothpicks.  Her legs were
nicely shaped in the flesh though, I remembered from seeing them a few
months ago.
	Tonya jumped out of a different car, and ran over to Valerie.  Tonya
was also a senior, and seemed to be Val's best friend.  Tonya was very
pretty, with long dark hair and bangs, and big green eyes.  She always
looked good, and her ski outfit looked just as sexy as anything else
she wore.  Tight blue ski pants, and a colorful windbreaker, along
with a matching blue headband holding her hair back.  She pulled off
her cool shades, and her green eyes shone even in the dim light of
early dawn.
	The third car was Kevin's.  He was in my grade, but was left back
early on, so he was driving already.  He pulled into a spot, and
unloaded his gear.  I knew from previous trips what his skis were:
K2's same as my own, except his were an extra 20 centimeters in
length.  Kevin was a big dude, though not all in height.  He was a
quiet guy, perhaps stemming from the fact that he was a year older
than the rest of his grade.  He was struggling with the rack on his
car.  I knew him pretty well, mostly from ski trips, so I went over to
give a hand while I waited.
	"Hey Kev."
	"Oh hey Rob," he said, looking up from his task.
	"Need a hand?" I asked.
	"Sure.  See if you can lift the other side for me, it seems to be
jammed."
	With four hands and some pushing, we quickly extracted the skis.
	"Looks like it's gonna be a beauty," he exclaimed, breathing a bit
heavily.  I looked at him.  If he were tired already, how would he
handle the hills, most people would have thought.  If I hadn't skied
with him before, I wouldn't have guessed he was an excellent skier. 
On the last trip of last season, we had skied every trail on the
mountain following a late March blizzard that had dumped two feet of
snow on Hunter Mountain.
	"Yeah.  This reminds me of that last day in March, it was about this
warm."
	"Uh-huh.  That was a good day.  What's the trail report?" he asked,
as he leaned into his car and pulled out some clothes and gloves and
some other junk which he temporarily dropped on the ground.
	"It looks good, last night it was 28 trails open, packed powder with
some powder."
	"Right," he said, "and that really means icy granular with some
ruts."  I laughed.  Snow reports out east are always exaggerated.
	"Well, hopefully this weather will soften the snow a bit.  And they
won't be snow making, thankfully."  Skiing while there is snowmaking
going on is like sticking your head outside a car window on a highway
during heavy freezing rain and cold fog.  Not pleasant at all.
	"Yeah, well, with Hunter you never know," he said slowly.  "Sometimes
you get 35 degrees down below and 20 up top."
	"I think it's gonna reach 50 today around here," I persisted, "so
maybe 45 up there.  It will be good, no matter what."
	Kevin selected a pair of gloves, and a hat, and tucked them roughly
into his zipped up coat.  After tossing the rest of his junk in the
car, he placed some sunglasses on his head, and grabbed up his skis
and boots.  I took up his poles.  "Thanks."
	A Greyhound-type coach bus was pulling in, tinted windows and all
coming to a stop in front of the school entrance.  It sat there for a
moment, as if posing, and let out a hiss over its grumbling engine.
	"Jeez!" I said.  "High class!"
	"Yeah!" he replied, stopping to take in the sight.  "Sure beats the
fuck out of a school bus."  Which is what we had taken in the past,
rather uncomfortably, may I add.  Skis would be stacked up in some of
the front seats, with poles then losing their grip and sliding to the
floor, only to be picked up later by someone in the back.  It was
chaos when we would arrive, with a fifteen-minute ritual of matching
skis, boots, and poles together with owner, almost auction style. 
This bus would indeed be a welcome change.
	We walked around to the business side of the bus where skis were
being loaded into the lower bays.  I spotted Michelle through the
crowd.  Talking with Kevin had distracted me from the waiting, and
suddenly I was excited all over again, and a bit nervous, too.
	The excitement quickly subsided when I saw Michelle talking to
Michael.  Oh great, I thought; now I gotta talk with Michael.  I
pushed Kevin's poles into the bay.
	"Alright, I'm gonna get my skis," I said, distractedly.
	"Thanks," he said.  "Need a hand?" 
	"No, got it.  See you on the bus."
	Michelle spotted me and gave a wave as I approached.
	"Hey, Michelle, Michael."
	"Hi, Rob," they both said at the same time.
	"Cool you could make it," I said to Michelle.
	"Yeah, my dad let me off the hook.  He wanted me to stay home with my
family," she explained to Mike.
	"I hate that," he said.  "When my dad says that, I just leave anyways."
	Michelle laughed.  "That's not nice."
	"Whatever."
	I was already annoyed.  "Did you get your skis on already?" I asked
Michelle.
	"Well they aren't here are they?" answered Mike like a smart-ass.
	"That's funny," I stated with no humor.
	"Yeah.  Just messing around, chill."
	"I'm chillin'," I said, easing up.  "Looks like a great day," I
changed the subject.
	"Yeah.  I am looking forward it," said Michelle.  She looked good,
wearing black ski pants with a red diagonal stripe, and a blue-green
windbreaker that brought out her eyes.
	"Cool windbreaker," I complimented.
	"Thanks.  I got it for my birthday last month."
	"Happy birthday," offered Mike.
	"Thanks," she returned.  "Looks like we are getting on.  Good thing,
I think I'm gonna sleep off the ride."
	"Did you hit the sack late?" asked Mike as we headed towards the line
of people now waiting to get on.  I noticed that Luke and Debbie had
arrived, and they were unloading their skis from Luke's jeep.
	"Yeah, I was up playing cribbage with my family."
	"What's that?" asked Mike.
	"It's a card game.  It's fun.  I guess not a lot of people know it
now."
	Michelle got on the bus followed by Mike, then me.  Damn, he gonna
sit with her now, I bet.  We made our way towards the back of the bus.
 There was an established seating hierarchy on these trips:
High-schoolers assumed full command of the back rows, with any
freshmen or eight-graders acting as a barrier to the middle-schoolers
who filled the front portion.  Any middle-school kids found in the
back were swiftly removed towards the front, as apparently was
happening now.  
	A small fat kid in glasses named George was being sent down the aisle
towards the front sections.  It was a commotion, the line moving
backwards as he tried to squeeze past people.  He placed his hand
firmly on Tonya's ass and grinned as he passed her in the aisle.  She
must have not realized that it was his hand, because she didn't say
anything and Georgie copped a feel from a senior as a seventh grader.
	Finally the line of people proceeded to move forward again.  Michael
paused by Georgie, who occasionally hung out in town with high school
kids.  He even smoked cigarettes openly and went to some parties to
drink.  If I was any older at the time I would have pitied him for
being into such things so young.
	"Did you steal a feel?" asked Mike.
	"Say what?" said George, feigning innocence.
	"You know what they do to people who steal?"
	"Nothin'," said George laughing.
	"They chop their hand off."  Mike grabbed George's hand and pushed it
around George's back, lightly pinning him to the seat.  Michelle and I
stood around awkwardly.
	"Mike, leave him," said Michelle.
	"I'm just playing around.  Right Georgie?"
	"Right," George managed to get out.
	"O.K., let's go apologize to Tonya."
	"No!"
	Mike pushed the arm up a bit more.
	"Alright!" George said.
	The line behind us was still long, so I said "Mike, c'mon, there's
still a line."
	"Alright, George, I'll let you off the hook this time.  I better not
see you skiing though, or you are going down!"  Mike let out a low
laugh and proceeded down the aisle.
	Sure enough, Michelle took a window seat and Mike sat down next to
her, no questions asked.  Michelle gave me a shrug.  For a second I
thought maybe they were going out or something, but then I remembered
that she didn't know of the trip until I told her, something that she
would have known if they were together.
	I took the window seat behind Michelle.  I looked outside, and saw
Kevin talking with Luke, smoking a cigarette.
	The recreation director, Roger, hopped on the bus, and silently made
a head count.  Debbie, Luke and Kevin then got on and made their way
back.  I greeted Luke and Deb, who sat across the aisle from me, and
Kevin asked to sit in my aisle seat.  "No prob."
	"Alright, people, listen up!" yelled out the director.  "I'm gonna
come around and take your money and slips, so have them out, that we
can leave soon."
	After some bustling and unzipping and cursing everyone was settled
and the bus closed its door, revved up and headed out.  The director
was a new guy, and he seemed a bit anal.  But hey, at least we got a
nice bus, I thought.
	I was still tired, and the tinted windows and the comfortable seat
enhanced that feeling and soon I was drifting off.  The bus was quiet,
only a few of the younger kids up front let out an occasional giggle. 
I looked over and saw Deb curled up on Luke's shoulder, eyes closed
himself.  Michelle seemed to be dozing against the window, using her
gloves and sweater as a makeshift pillow.  Kevin was reading a
magazine, something about trucks.
	I closed my eyes and dreamt.

	I was sitting next to Michelle.  She said she was sleepy, so I
offered her my lap.  She laid her head down on my thigh.  I felt
movement on my knee and looked down to see her hand rubbing it.  It
slowly drew up my inner thigh.  Her eyes were still closed.  She
pushed up my leg and placed her palm on my balls, fingers rubbing my
hardening dick through the corduroy ribs.  Slowly, she unbuttoned the
four buttons on my button-fly.  That task completed, she reached in
through the opening in my boxers and grabbed my rock-solid cock.
	As she stroked it up and down, she massaged her thumb into the tip,
slowly spreading the emerging fluid around the top.  She let out a
small hum.
	She readjusted her position, and turned her head.  She licked up the
shaft, and then gently tongued the crown of my dick, which was already
slathered with pre-cum.  Suddenly she engulfed the top of my penis in
her mouth, letting out smacking noises as her lips closed around the
wet head.  She pushed down slowly, taking in another inch, and then a
third.  She bobbed up and down a bit, as if testing the length in her
mouth.  She slowly took in another inch.  I could feel her tongue
against the side of my shaft.  She pulled out a bit, and then pushed
in again.  She had perhaps four and a half inches jammed in her mouth
when she suddenly pulled off with a loud smacking noise.
	"Shhhhhh!" I hushed, a bit loudly.

	"What, I didn't say nothing," said Kevin, still reading next to me.
	"Sorry, I was just dreaming," I said, coming back to my surroundings.
 I adjusted my position to ease pressure on my hard cock.
	"Must have been a hell of a rude person in your dream."
	"Not at all," I said, trying to regain the dream.  "Just a rude
awakening, unfortunately."
	I settled into my chair again, and closed my eyes, but if I my dream
was anything interesting, I do not remember it.