Mud Pie

By Sloane

The road always seems to have a strange effect on the six of us. I am sure our band is not unique to this trend. As a "rock star" your world transforming into an alternate reality is inevitable when daily activities are so skewed from a normal person’s life. Most people do not know what it’s like to have hundreds of people call out your name; to wait outside of a venue hours before the doors even open – for you; to give you gifts of all sorts; to want to talk to you, take your photo and put you in magazines. It’s easy to let that kind of attention go to your head or send you over the edge.

In addition to the adoration, there are the aspects of control inflicted on you. Your daily routine is completely manipulated by someone else: where you will be and at what time, what you will eat, what events will fill your day. When it’s all said and done you find yourself searching for ways to regain some sort of control over your life, no matter how small. Making decisions for yourself turns into a rare luxury. Each member of our band has found small ways to cope with this symptom of road life. Small self indulgences where we can govern our actions and make our own choices. For Chester, it’s his wardrobe; Phoenix plays video games; Joe draws; Brad reads; Rob – I’m not really too sure about. He’s like a big kid with ADD, so he always has a new obsession - this week it’s TV, especially Ally McBeal. For myself, it’s daydreaming.

I spend hours on end in my bunk creating alternate realities. I can be anyone, at any period in time, and do anything I want – it’s a great escape. Sometimes I get so engrossed in my own created worlds that I forget they are only figments of my imagination – not real life. That was the case with the situation with Joe…

Joe and I have been friends – close friends – for years, since our days in college. We have so much in common and similar talents. I thought it was only natural to want to explore that relationship further in my alternate universe. In my imaginary world Joe is frisky and fun, much like he is in "real" life. The main difference is in my world he simply adores me with every ounce of his being.

The fantasies about Joe started innocently enough. I would picture us in funny situations, wreaking havoc on the bus and the guys in the band. We’d go snowboarding together. We’d have a side music project that was winning us awards left and right. However, my thoughts quickly turned sexual in nature. Perhaps it was because I was lonely on the road. It’s next to impossible to carry on a romantic relationship while on tour, so I rarely bother. Or perhaps it was just what I perceived to be a natural progression in our close friendship.

The day where I blurred the lines of reality and the world I had created stared like most days – on the bus. That day, unlike most, was a day off for us between shows – the days when we have more time to indulge in our escapism tactics. I woke up that morning - in my mind - with Joe in my bunk. Obviously, he was not, but my pillow served as a substitute. I threw my arms around it and held it closely to my bare chest pretending that Joes warm flesh was pressing into mine.

"Hey Mike, you up?" I heard Chester yell back to me, startling my nerves.

"Uh, yeah, what’s up?" I responded.

"We are going to stop at a truck stop just up the road to get some food. You in?"

"Yeah, man, thanks!"



I hopped out of my bunk, naked, with my feet making firm contact with the floor. I’ve always been a nude sleeper. I’ve tried to sleep in boxers on the bus out of respect for the others, but I just toss and turn all night against the restrictedness of the fabric. I figure the guys would rater me get a full night sleep so I can put on a good performance in exchange for having to get a glimpse of me nude every now and again. To be perfectly honest, I secretly get off when one of them gets and eyeful. It makes my imaginary world irresistibly flirt with the actual world. My imaginary world where Chester or Brad could easily stumble upon me naked and beg me to reprimand them with my stiffness. Perhaps one day that might actually happen, I pondered.

I rustled through my duffle bag, which I had carelessly thrown out of my bunk the night prior to make way for my weary body. I found some suitable clothes and threw them on and made my way up to the front of the bus where the other guys were gathered.

"Mother fucking, rain!" I exclaimed staring out of the front windows of the bus.

"Yeah, our one fucking day off in a weeks time and it has to rain." Chester responded.

"I like the rain!" Joe chimes in. "I am the Puddle Master!" he says in an Arnold Schwarzenegger tone.

"You’re a fucking freak is what you are!" Chester snaps.

Poor Joe, I thought. He is the most fun loving guy I know, and the others just don’t seem to get him half of the time. I thought about how I’d like to put my arms around Joe and tell him that I don’t think he’s a freak and plant a big, wet kiss on his lips. He would be grateful in response to my sensitivity and would pounce on me right then and there. We’d make passionate love on the couch in front of everyone gaping, yet getting oddly aroused.

The bus reached its destination – the TA truck stop. Chester always called it "Tits and Ass Truck Stop." It was just like Chester to always be thinking with his dick. ‘How intriguing,’ I thought in response to my consideration of Chester’s insatiable sex drive, determining he would be good fantasy material as well.

We exited the bus one by one. Chester, Rob Phoenix and Brad made a mad dash to escape the rain and disappeared behind the doors of Tits and Ass. I was behind Joe as he was exiting the bus. Instead of running inside the building like the others he made his way over to a large puddle that had formed by the side of the building. He began yelling, "I am Puddle Master!" and jumped with force into the puddle. Water splashed all over his dark blue, baggy jeans.

I released a squeal; thankful the others were not around to tease me. I get so excited and engrossed by humorous events that I can’t help myself from producing small, high pitched shrieks. A trait the others will not let me live down.

Joe continued to jump around in the puddle shouting. People gassing up their cars shot looks of disapproval and confusion at Joe, unbeknownst to him. He looked so adorable jumping around like an excited child that I decided to join him. I was planning on taking a shower that morning anyway, so getting a little wet was of no concern to me.

I ran up to Joe and jumped in the puddle next to him, purposely littering his jeans with dirty puddle water. He looked at me grinning and shouted, still in his Schwarzenegger voice, "Shinoda, you will pay for that!" We continued to jump around seeing who could create the biggest splashes, consequently getting the other more drenched.

I took one final leap in the water and lost my balance. Trying to secure myself I grabbed onto Joe’s sweater making him lose his stability as well. My behind was the first part of me to make contact with the ground until Joe fell on top of me leaving me flat on my back.

We both busted out into uncontrollable laughter.

"Nice move, Mike!" Joe giggled trying to pull himself off of me. I could smell is cologne, which drove me nearly crazy. To this day when I smell CK One, I think of Joe and get a massive hard-on. Getting up, Joe lost his footing in the slickness of the water and fell backward into a patch of land, which had turned into a patch of mud, beside the truck stop.

I laughed at the site of Joe’s behind now saturated with mud. Feeling playful and wanting more physical contact with Joe, I lurched over at him, tackling him.

Amused, he spoke in his newly acquired accent, "For that you will die, Little M!" He forced his body over on top of mine, pinning me to the wet land and caking me in mud. We giggled like little girls, finding our antics to be completely hysterical.

Caught up in the joy of the moment and the excitement from contact with Joe, I lifted my face to his, planting my lips against the soft flesh that comprised his lips.

Confused, Joe backed away from my kiss slightly and said, "Whoa…Mikey…."

I mustered my strength and took advantage of his pause, rolling over and now pinning him to the ground. I looked down at him and smiled. He responded with a half grin. I ran my finger into the mud below us, collecting a small amount of the slick, brown earth. I brought my finger to Joe’s face and painted two lines on each of his cheeks and one down the center of his forehead.

"You have been christened, great warrior!" I joked.

Joe chuckled, his white teeth now gleaming from behind his lips. I returned the smile and lowered my face to his. "Now you can christen me." I spoke softly and again connected my mouth to his. This time my advances were received. Gently, we kissed. My daydreams hadn’t quite prepared me for this moment - a moment I never expected to transpire, but grateful it had.

I parted my lips and released my tongue into his mouth. His supple, tentative tongue met mine. I felt that warm, tickling sensation in my stomach that I experience when I am enthralled with a lover – a feeling I hadn’t achieved in such a long time.

I pulled my lips up from Joe to study his face and see if he was as mentally willing for what was occurring as his lips were. He smiled shyly at me and I returned the grin. Taking advantage of my distraction, he pushed me over, tackling me. We rolled over and over in the mud wrestling and laughing, pausing every few moments to steal kisses from one another. My heart was singing with joy. I thought how perfect this very moment was.

Joe, again, had the upper hand and had his weight on top of me; attaching my entire back to the soggy, dirty ground. He grabbed a handful of mud and slapped it squarely into my hair, sending him into hysterics. I couldn’t contain my laughter as well. I ran my hand into the mud collecting it and made impact with his face, splashing the soggy dirt all over his cheek. In response, Joe filled both of his hands with mud and clasped them on either side of my face while pulling me towards his mouth. We kissed as he smudged the mud completely over both of my cheeks.

"Joe, you’re so dirty!" I joked in my best feminine voice.

I could feel Joe’s excitement manifest itself against me in his stirring pants. I reached my arms around him and firmly grabbled his ass as he moved in for another kiss. We began to push our hips into one another, pressing our stiff bulges into one another.

Yet again, Joe caked his hands with the sopping earth and placed them under my t-shirt on my bare chest. The mud felt cool and soothing against my fevered skin. Not satisfied, I wiggled my way out of my t-shirt, tossing it aside. Joe continuously filled his hands with mud and rubbed it all over my exposed upper body. Excited, my hands reached for his pants, hastily unbuttoning them. I slid my hand between the opening in the denim and under the waistband of his boxer shorts, taking his firmness in my hand. He gasped, "Mike," as my hand made contact with his arousal. I stroked him expertly, just like I did in my fantasies of him. I obviously had plenty of practice stroking as constant masturbation walked hand in hand with my fantasy life. I felt a little guilty that my hand that was pleasuring him was still lightly caked with mud, but from the sultry look on Joe’s face I assumed he didn’t mind.

I barely noticed the people outside of the truck stop, making their way to and from the building and putting gas into their vehicles. Luckily from the way Joe’s body was positioned on top of mine, it wasn’t apparent that my hand was down his pants. Although, I’m sure him lying on top of me and us continuously kissing looked suspect. I didn’t give a fuck. I wanted this for so long and I wasn’t going to let a few onlookers stop me. I almost forgot about the band and was relieved they hadn’t exited the building. They would understand Joe and I getting into a mud fight, as we were often partners in crime, however, I didn’t imagine they would look too kindly upon sexual activity between Joe and I. I assumed they must have found a restaurant inside and decided to eat there rather than bring food back on the bus. Any excuse to get out of the bus was a good excuse.

I continued to pleasure Joe with my hand. He was moaning and cooing – a mix between a sexed charged man and a happy, little baby. I loved that about Joe. He was a blend of a strikingly sexy man and a giddy child - a simply irresistible combination.

Approaching the peak of excitement, Joe notified me by breathlessly moaning "Oh, Mikey, I’m… I’m…"

Understanding, I slightly increased the pressure of my stroking and picked up my pace. I studied his face. His eyelids were closed and fluttering his thick lashes, and his mouth was slightly pursed open. Damn, he looked sexy. "Miiiiiike!" Joe groaned while filling my hand with his fluid.

Joe opened his eyes and looked into mine. "Oh, god, Mike!" he exclaimed. I could tell by his tone he was pleased and I felt myself shiver in excitement.

Joe ran his hands along my chest where the mud had begun to dry. He lowered them to the earth, filling them again, and planted them on my shoulders while kneading the muscles. I fought the urge to tell Joe that he ‘gave great mud,’ thinking it a little too goofy - but then again, this was Joe I was with.

Sitting up and straddling me, Joe studied his surroundings. I saw him fix his eyes somewhere in the distance and smile. He buttoned up his jeans, grabbed my dirty, soaking shirt in one hand and one of my hands in the other pulling me to my feet. He started walking, dragging me behind him. "C’mon!" he said excitedly. We made our way around to the back of the building, which was deserted. Joe pushed me up against the wall of the structure and kissed me, his tongue lapping at mine.

"Joe, I want you." I said in a sultry tone looking into his eyes. He nodded. I ran my hands down his chest and unbuttoned his pants, pulling them, along with his boxers, down to his ankles. I moved away from the wall and pushed him towards it, facing it. I grabbed his wrists and planted his hands up against the building, as if I were a policeman about to search him.

While unbuttoning my own pants, I stared unabashedly at his behind. It was firm, yet appeared to be soft. I was determined to find out first hand. I removed my hardness through the opening in my boxer shorts. Not wanting to insert myself into Joe without any lubrication, I considered applying my own saliva to my ready erection. Then, I smiled as a devious idea crossed my mind. ‘Joe’s going to be pissed at me for this now, but he will laugh about it later.’ I thought to myself while reaching down to the soggy ground and grabbing a handful of mud. I generously applied the mud to myself and then generously coated Joe’s opening.

"What are you-" Joe begin before I cut him off.

"Shut up and let me fuck you," I said lightheartedly.

I put my hands on Joe’s hips, slightly soiling them and pulled them back a few inches towards me so I could reach his opening while standing comfortably. I released a hand from his hips and used it to guide myself slowly into him. He gasped as I filled him.

"Let me know if you need me to stop." I whispered to him.

"I’m okay," he responded.

I was happy to hear those words because he felt so wonderfully tight around me. I reached and arm around his waist to hold him close to me while I repeatedly pulled out of and then buried myself into him.

"Damn, Joe, your ass is so tight." I spoke. The sensation of being within him was exponentially greater than I had ever imagined. I knew I wouldn’t be able to last very long. I felt so close to Joe, while being one with him. My feelings had grown profoundly deeper for him as a result of the day’s frolicking. Sharing one more commonality – and such and intimate one at that – was intoxicating.

"Oh, Mike, fuck me with that huge cock of yours!" Joe cried out.

No longer able to control the sensation of Joe’s tightness around me, I released myself into him while calling out his name. I wanted to stay there, inside of him, holding him for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, time was short and we were lucky enough to have so much time to ourselves as it was.

I returned myself to my pants and zipped my flip back up. I turned Joe around and pulled his pants and up for him and fastened his button. I threw my arms over his shoulders. Looking at him I spoke tenderly, "was that okay?"

"It was unbelievable, Mike," he responded, connecting his lips with mine. "What was that you used, to – you know…?"

"I’ll tell you later," I chuckled.

We began our short trek back to the bus hand in hand. We came around to the side of the building where we initially played in the mud. I was a few steps in front of Joe, which I realized was a bad idea when I felt a large quantity of sticky dirt make contact with the back of my head.

"You little fuck!" I jovially shrieked while turning around. This was another bad idea because this time I took a handful of mud to the face.

"That’s it! I’m going to get you, Hahn!" I yelled pouncing on him, sending us both flying to the ground. We laughed while rolling around. Taking handfuls of mud and lobbing it wherever there was clean flesh or fabric.

"What the fuck are you two doing?" I heard Chester’s voice say.

Joe and I both froze in our tracks and looked up at the four other members of our band staring down at us.

"We can’t leave you two unsupervised for two minutes!" Chester raised his voice at us.

Joe and I just giggled and picked ourselves off the ground. We looked at each other and burst out into hysterical laughter partially due to the look on the band’s face, especially Chester’s, and because of our little secret.

‘Joe won’t be laughing later when he’s cleaning all of that mud off of his ass!’ I thought continuing to roar in amusement.

*~*The End*~*