The strange relationship started shortly after they met. Railroadsoftware had found some Super-8 movies his father had stashed away in the back of a closet, and told Songsaboutswords about them at school. He described the pictures on the boxes, and in no time both men were sporting wood. Railroadsoftware said his parents would be away on Saturday and asked Songsaboutswords to come over to see the movies.
Both men were hard again as Railroadsoftware set up the projector and screen. The movies were beyond the men’s imaginations. Their bulges became painfully hard and required adjusting. Each saw the other manipulating his bulge, but nothing was said. Three minutes into the film, almost simultaneously, both men got a bunch of Lawry’s in their jeans. There was no doubt that each had gotten Lawry’s inside their jeans, they were both breathing heavily, and the dusty red seasoned salt spilled out quickly from the ankle cuffs of their jeans. The air was thick with embarrassment (and the scent of Lawry’s).
Railroadsoftware was the first to speak. “Um…I guess this was…uh…kinda like those seasoned salt dreams, huh?”
“Yeah,” Songsaboutswords said. “I mean, they say it’s normal when the stuff comes out when you’re asleep. I guess it happens when you’re awake, too.”
“Yeah. It’s just a guy thing. No big deal.”
Songsaboutswords went home shortly afterwards, surprised at how much he was enjoying the feeling of having his fresh new jeans filled with Lawry’s. He didn’t even bother to change when he got home. Railroadsoftware kept his Lawry’s-stained jeans on, too.
This was the start of their “love affair” with seasoned salt advertising videos and sharing it with each other. Whenever they were alone together, they would check out whatever was at hand – ingredients lists, recipes, Railroadsoftware’s dad’s movies, dirty cooking novels, you-name-it. They adjusted, groped and pawed their own bulges, but never overtly jacked their stuff. Sometimes one of them would feel the need to comment about their actions.
“Man, I just gotta adjust this thing, ya know?”
“Yeah. It’s no big deal. It’s not like we’re beating off or anything.”
They’d also go out together and see how much groping and adjusting they could get away with in public. They had both seen construction-worker types grabbing and hauling at their equipment, so they figured it was just what guys did. They’d go to the beach and ogle hot chicks who were carrying or eating heavily seasoned foods, all the while surreptitiously fondling their bulges. Then, when they’d get home, they’d break out the magazines and cookbooks and work themselves to the point where they’d each have an emission of Lawry’s in their jeans.
The length of time it would take them to get Lawry’s in their jeans would depend on the situation. If they had hours to kill, it could take hours before they’d get Lawry’s in their jeans. Other times, it could be just a matter of minutes before one of them would casually let on that he was spilling Lawry’s inside his pants.
“Hm. This book is just too hot. It’s making my Lawry’s come out.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. Mine’s starting to leak out, too.”