I tugged the plastic bag from my pocket and loaded up the bowl with some of Spumoni's dope, then took the lighter Dallas handed to me.
“This shit is the real deal,” Dallas warned as I pressed the pipe to my mouth and flicked on the lighter.
“Spumoni said the same thing when he gave me the bag.” I took a deep inhale, held it, and then released a plume of smoke up to the stars.
I handed the pipe and the lighter over to Dallas and felt a warm, melty feeling wash over me like someone had covered me with a soft fleece blanket. I never felt the effects of pot this quickly. I watched Dallas take a hit and then took the pipe back for a second toke. I lost count after that. I wasn't sure if I'd taken two hits or twenty. My head didn't feel like it was attached to my body right then, and my limbs felt like noodles hanging from my torso.
“Dude, are you still breathing over there?” Dallas asked in a slurred tone.
“Pretty sure I am,” I answered but wasn't completely certain I'd said the words out loud. I lolled my head to glance at him, and his glassy and unfocused eyes were pointed directly at me. My god, he has long lashes, sexy lips, and a dimple I'd like to touch with the tip of my tongue. Fuck, did I say all that out loud?
“You look so fucking baked,” Dallas said and laughed.
“Spumoni.” I said the name like no further explanation was needed.
“Right, I'll tell you what I know,” Dallas said. He set the bowl to the side of his seat and settled back with his eyes pointed to the stars above us. “Spumoni has been with Black Ice for a long damn time, taking care of their equipment. He would always show up at the jobs stoned off his ass but was a genius at running a crew of roadies and getting equipment to and from a venue, which is why he kept his job.”
“How do you know all of this?” I asked. “You're not old enough to have been there at the start.”
“I'm not, but my father started as a roadie, and Spumoni was his boss,” Dallas explained. “My dad said Spumoni always had the best weed, and he loved sharing. I'm not sure if he grows it himself or where he gets it, but it is never less than stellar, and over the years, his dope has only gotten more potent.”
“I don't think I've ever been this high before in my life,” I admitted.
“It's nice, isn't it?” Dallas said. “Feels like your mind is dripping out of your ears.”
“Totally,” I almost sighed the word. “I feel like I'm having an out of body experience.”
“So, Spumoni loved to share his weed with others, and the roadies practically lined up for it,” Dallas continued. “But it wasn't just the weed they wanted.”
“What'd you mean?” I asked.
“After he’d get a roadie totally wasted, he'd go down on him.”
“What? You mean, he'd suck their dicks?”
“Yep—not every roadie though. Some straight dudes just can't allow themselves to cross that line, even for a blowjob.”
“You've got to be kidding me,” I said. “Why the hell would Spumoni do that?”
“He always bragged about how much he loved giving head and how intense the orgasm was while stoned on his weed,” Dallas said. “Far as I know, he still gives them blowjobs.”
“He certainly didn't do that for me,” I scoffed.
“Well, for starters, you're Dagger's protégé, which means hands off in this organization,” Dallas said and chuckled. “You’re probably safe because of Dagger.”
“Are you being serious with me about Spumoni giving blowjobs?” I asked.
“I'm totally telling the truth about Spumoni giving blowjobs,” he said and laughed.
“Did he blow you?” I knew it was none of my business, but I had to ask.
Dallas shook his head. “He never blew me. I’m too young and Skully’s son, but I did watch him do it to a few other guys.” Then he leaned over toward me in my beanbag chair. “Can you even imagine getting a bag of weed from him, taking a few hits from a joint, and then suddenly having his face fall into your lap?”
I felt the heat of his breath wash over my face with his words and opened my eyes. Dallas's lips were hovering so close to my face that his nose almost bumped mine, and I froze. When did he get so damn close, and why wasn't I shoving him away? I saw a flicker of a grin curl his lips right before he brushed them against mine, and my brain stopped functioning.
I closed my eyes and sensed his body shift closer still, and I couldn't find a reason in my muddled mind for him to stop. His feathery brush became a firm press that brought our mouths fully together. The heat of his exhalations made my skin tingle, and when I felt his tongue glide along the seam of my lips, I opened for him.
Clearly I'd lost my mind or fried the last working brain cell with Spumoni's weed because I didn't kiss guys. I was into girls, maybe not as often as Mike was hooking up, and until this kiss, I'd never, ever been into a guy, but I was definitely feeling this right now with Dallas. I could blame it on being high, which I would later on after the buzz wore off, but Jesus, this felt amazing. Had it been that long since I'd gotten laid that a kiss from Dallas would light me up like a goddamn Christmas tree? I could feel my cock begin to stir in my pants, and it felt like a betrayal to me. How could my dick find this arousing? But Christ, it was that and so much more.
Dallas gave me another teasing lick before his tongue slipped past my lips and slid down the side of my tongue to caress the entire length. Languid strokes in and out, and I groaned at the intensity I was feeling. This was the most mind-blowing kiss anyone had ever given me, and it was a dude making me shatter. How was that even possible?
I was still so stoned I had no idea how long the kiss had lasted, but I was pretty sure I was kissing him back as much as he was owning my mouth. When Dallas finally pulled back and sank into his seat, he cleared his throat, and sounding out of breath, he said, “Fucking hell, that was crazy good.”
I leaned forward in my seat and held on to my head. “Jesus, I have no idea why I did that.”
“Why? Are you seeing someone?”
“No, I haven't been with anyone in quite a while.”
Dallas seemed to study me for a few seconds and then said, “Don't tell me that was the first time you kissed a dude.”
“Of course it was,” I scoffed as if he should’ve somehow known that information.
“Shit, I'm sorry,” Dallas apologized. “I had no idea. I thought you were into it, especially after we'd been talking about Spumoni, and you didn't seem to have a problem with it.”
“I don't have a problem with it,” I argued. “I've just never … experienced it myself.”
“I never would have done that if I thought it would freak you out,” Dallas said.
“It's cool—weird, but I'm okay.”
“It kinda felt like you enjoyed it.”
“Probably because I'm still high.”
“And you will be for hours to come,” Dallas said. “Maybe we should do it again while you're still feeling the buzz.”
“I'm not sure that's a good idea right now.”