Dominic

 

                                                                                                                 “Wouldn’t you rather just chill out, dude?”

Trent wasn’t exactly excited to visit the old skatepark, but he was to see the property that would soon house his new condominiums. The 26-year-old was a young business professional on track to be one of the city’s hottest names in the market, and if his project went well, then he’d certainly be climbing faster than ever. Trent was an overachiever, and as soon as his complex replaced the dirty bum breeding grounds, he’d be sure that the future ahead would be brighter than ever before.

Parking his SUV, he felt a certain glee in his stomach as he approached the metal benches and vert ramps. In just a few days, he’d be able to sign off on the destruction of this place, and those lazy, lethargic, good-for-nothing skaters would have to find a new home.

One of those skaters was Dominic, who was currently taking a break and lounging back on a raised platform. A crooked smile crossed his face as he noticed the clean-cut, prim and proper businessman, curious as to why a three-piece big shot was strolling through his skatepark.

“Yo,” Dominic called. “What’s a suit like you doin’ here?”

Trent regarded the seated male as he walked forward. Laid-back but cocky, tall and lanky but with some definition. If this guy shaved that beard and those immature curls, Trent thought he could almost make it in the realty world. Almost.

“Checking out my newest acquisition,” Trent’s voice rang with privilege.

Dominic looked surprised, “You want the skatepark?”

“I want to get rid of it.”

“Why bro?” Dominic popped off his shoes one by one. “Guys love this place.”

“And real men do not,” Trent spat, moving closer to where the male was seated. “What is there to love?”

“Take a seat,” Dominic motioned to the other end of the bench. Hesitantly, Trent obliged, noting that Dominic would also have to take a bath if he wanted to exist in the world of realty.

“What’s there not to, man?” Dominic placed his shoes underneath his legs. “For starters, you don’t have to worry about meeting deadlines and quo-tas.”

Dominic pronounced the words quotas like it was borrowed from a foreign language, propping his feet out as he did so.

“You can wear whatever you want, whenever you want.”

Trent didn’t want to admit that that sounded nice as he removed his jacket and vest. A tee shirt and sweats were probably more comfortable and cheaper.

“Bros like me don’t have to conform to certain looks. We can appear however we want to.”

Maybe the skatepark would appreciate Trent’s natural hockey flow more than the guys at work. And his bushy mustache, which he’d had for so long he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d shaped it.

“Plus skating keeps you naturally fit,” Dominic laughed, stretching out his legs a little further. “Skating all day keeps the doctors away.”

A goofy smile warmed onto Trent’s angular face. Yeah, working out sucked. It was just so much easier to be standing on the board for hours with his thin frame.

“Skating all day also keeps others away, if ya know what I mean.”

Trent nodded slowly, knowing what it was like to always have that persistent odor. It was a cloud that followed him everywhere. A mixture of sweat, B.O., grime, weed, and sex. And no matter how hard he tried, he could never really get it off of him. It was just his natural emittance. And if he was being honest, he didn’t really try that hard to get it off. Trent didn’t really try that hard at anything.

“And don’t forget about all the fun things we get to do at the skatepark besides skating.”

Trent scooted himself in closer, only now realizing how attractive this skater was. And how hard his massive dick was.

So when Dominic asked the question, all that could come out of Trent’s mouth was “Yeah dude.” And without having to move an inch, Dominic simply smirked and motioned towards his Size 14 feet.

“Sniff.”

Trent leaned in and took in the heaviest breath he could. The dank mellowing foot funk drowned his being in a suffocating fog, eradicating anything that could make the male productive and reliable. When it had settled and all was done, what was left behind was a boy who only cared for the simple pleasures of the world. Skating hard, being hard, and not working hard.

“Dude…” Tate moaned in pleasure. “Those are ripe!”

“I know bro, and I bet yours are too.”

Tate gave half a smile, nodding as he checked out his beaten Size 13 Vans.

“Should we go find out?” Tate peered over at a more secluded area of the skatepark.

“Yeah man, I’d like that,” Dominic fondled his pouch languidly. “We got all the time in the world after all.”