A Fable from the 70's

[EasyRory]

Part One - The Dawn's Early Light

I opened my eyes expecting the ache to come. Nothing. I actually felt comfortable and increasingly awake, covered by a sheet and light blanket, lying on a narrow bed in a mostly white, minimally furnished room. Bright sun filtered through a shuttered window. Morning.

A small bedroom I guessed, sifting through dim memories of the night before. A couple drinks, getting hit on by some gross guys, a couple more drinks, an odd echo of Donna Summer singing and then nothing. I swung my feet to the floor and still there was no sign of a hangover about to crush my brain. Morning wood reassured me that my dick still worked. I was naked and there was no sign of my clothes; but there was a white terry-cloth robe hanging on what probably was a closet door. Empty closet, except for a pair of slippers; no sign of anything of mine. Another door led to a bathroom. A glance in the mirror showed me in reasonably good shape; I took care of essentials, even brushing my teeth with a new brush I found still in its box. Cinching the robe, I tried door number three, ready for the lady or the tiger, but instead stepped into a hall.

The hall was just more doors in one direction but in the other opened onto a large room, again mostly white and sparsely furnished with a couple of sofas aimed more or less a big console-style television and a table with four chairs. A man in good shape but not threatening, possibly in his thirties - I wasn't good at guessing ages, came through an open doorway with two mugs. “There you are. Feeling ok? Coffee?”

“Thanks. Fine; I feel fine. Where am I?” The coffee was black and a little hotter than I was ready for; I blew on it.

“I'm Evan and you're at my house in Hillcrest.” He waited for a reaction, but got none. Hillcrest, I later found out, is a gay, older residential area of San Diego. “Want more of a breakfast? Juice?” When I didn't answer, he quickly filled in some of the blanks, “Take it easy. You passed out on the street last night and a friend helped me bring you here. Your clothes were … well, let's say they needed washing, which is where they are now – in the dryer. Your watch and wallet and stuff are in the kitchen.”

He pointed through the doorway and there I found my watch, a key, and my wallet. I looked through the wallet and relaxed. “Everything seems to be here.” There was a surprising amount of folding money in it. “Maybe more money than I started out with.” I began to wonder if Evan had messed with me and left a tip.

“I don't know about that; but everything you had when I found you is there.” He indicated the possibilities for breakfast and then went through a door to big attached garage to check on the laundry. I watched as he retrieved my clothes. Sharing the garage with the washer and dryer were a really muddy 4x4 pickup and a hot looking motorcycle. “Here you go,Terry.”

Evan handed me my clothes and shoes. “Terry right? I checked your wallet for ID.” I nodded and he asked if I needed a ride back to the Navy Base. “Your driver's license gave a ship as your address.”

“Uh, yah, well, that's not current. I'm out of the Navy now.”

As I reached for my clothes, the robe fell open. Evan did his best not to look, but couldn't help it. He took a good look, blushed a little and covered his embarrassment saying “No tattoos?”

“Nope.” He gave me some juice which really tasted great and a cinnamon bun to go with the coffee. I explained I was recently discharged from the USN and was looking around for what to do next. I didn't tell him why I was discharged.

The short version of why is I got caught. I was caught in the ship's photo shop with one of the officers - both of us with our dicks out. Don't know what happened to the lieutenant; but I was off the ship within hours and out of the Navy within days. I never saw such efficiency in what was otherwise a slow-grinding bureaucracy. What bothered me was the jaygee and I never even got the chance to do anything before the Chief walked in on us. I had done a lot of het-sex but nothing more than exactly two hand jobs from guys; I liked girls but had stopped fooling myself that I wasn't more interested in guys. The jaygee was a decent guy, better than ok looking. His erection said he was interested in me; and I had decided it was time to take the next step.

Since getting the boot two weeks ago, I had stayed with Navy friends, a couple of days here and a couple of days there. Because of circumstances, they weren't happy having me around at some risk to themselves and after a couple of days they would let me know that staying somewhere else would be a good idea. Last night I was all out of friends and needed a bed. So with everything I owned shoved into a Greyhound locker, without much of a plan and even less money, I went to a dingy gay bar I had heard of determined to do whatever it took to get a bed. That was not as easy to arrange as I expected, but guys were at least buying me drinks and in a few hours the drinks caught up with me. So this morning I felt grateful but still suspicious of Evan. I could probably take him in a fair fight; but who said the fight would be fair? It was time to move on.

“Evan, I'm really glad for your help last night. I'll get out of your way. Can I give you something for your help?”

“No, you can't. I don't want to hold you up, but what's the rush? You aren't even dressed yet. Take a shower at least.”

I shrugged. “You sure I can't give you something. I feel like I owe you.”

“OK, wash my truck. Is that fair? Meanwhile I need to go out, so finish breakfast and take your time.”

He quickly headed out the door before I could answer. He backed the truck into the driveway for washing. “You trust me?” I called into the garage. The sound of the cycle almost drowned out his answer. “Yes, more or less.”

 

[EasyRory]

Part Two - The Coming of the Lord

I put my dishes in the sink and figured a shower could wait until after I washed the truck; in the small bedroom, I shed the robe and pulled on just my jeans. Various tins of soap, grease remover, and chamois cloths were in the garage. I went to work and felt good doing it, a little honest labor, getting kinks out, working up a sweat in the sun. It was a quiet street and only car drove past while I was working. The driver was wearing shades and briefly glanced in my direction. He pulled into a drive across the street two houses away. Using a lot of soap, degreaser, and too much water for California, I got the job done and was wiping down the result.

Standing on the sill of the open door, I was swiping a towel across the top of the cab. “Whose a Kappa? Whose a Kappa?” The loud call startled me. It was an old Q&A formula from my fraternity Kappa Tau Sigma, which the girls said meant Kums Too Soon. In response to the question I was supposed stand at attention and answer “I, sir. I,sir” giving the questioner about three seconds to try to yank down whatever I was wearing in the way of pants. If he succeeded, I was entitled to a little kiss on the butt, which didn't usually happen unless there had been a lot of drinking. Instead of following the protocol, I turned in surprise as my jeans were yanked down and I got a very different kiss. A familiar voice said, “Kissing your butt would make me a Kappa; kissing your dick would make me gay.” He held me slightly off my feet, immobilized, keeping his arms around my bare butt and looked up. “But I am gay so that makes it ok, I guess.” He buried his face in my bush and pretended to plant kisses all over my crotch.

“Jeff Lord!” My fraternity big brother here in the flesh all but sucking my cock. “Jeff, quit it.”

He relaxed his hold and let me slide down his body until I was back on the ground. “I've been wanting to do that since I met you. Never thought I'd get the chance.” He smiled and held me. Just when I thought he was going to kiss on the mouth, he broke the hold and stepped back. “You want to pull your pants up?” As I bent down to retrieve them, he kissed his fingers and patted my butt. I hurried to pull them up because my cock was showing signs of interest.

“Jeez, Jeff. Right on the street. You haven't changed.”

“Terry.” An exasperated pause. “This is Hill-fucking-crest, anybody who saw that is wishing he was part of it.”

“You're gay? When did that happen? How'd you know I wouldn't punch you out?”

“When? Like always and I figured your sexy ass was worth the risk of a bruise or two. I hadn't figured on kissing your dick, though. Nice bonus. Besides I helped Evan get you into bed last night. Before you passed out again you made us some pretty interesting offers for a place to sleep.”

I didn't know what to say to that. Too embarrassed. I quickly cleaned up the garage and he listened while I told him my Navy story and the fact I had no idea what would come next.

“You know, Terry, I spent two and a half years lusting after you at school and after memorizing every curve of your body I also figured out that you were bright, capable, and full of appreciation for life. You will figure out what comes next and it will be amazing.”

More embarrassment on my part was followed by Jeff's comment that I didn't smell too great and a shower should really be my immediate future. “But don't take too long; I want to show you the back yard.”

The Navy taught me how to take fast showers and I set a record. Shit! My jeans were gone again. I put the robe on and went in search.

“Out here,” Jeff called. He was in a swimming pool that was set into the hill that dropped away when the yard ended. “Shed the robe and come on in.” After a hesitation, I did and swam up to him at the far end of the yard. The edge of the pool was right at the edge of the hill. With arms on the lip of the pool we looked over the edge and took in the view. “Actually this was just an excuse to get you naked again. The Navy sure made a great looking man out of you.”

We relaxed watching the traffic on I-8; it was far enough away that all we got was the sight not the sound. He sensed I was a little uncomfortable and made no moves, verbal or physical. I told him I learned video and photographic capture and editing in the USN and sort of hoped I could do something with those skills. “I bet you can. And Terry, don't leave; stay here a while. Evan won't put any pressure on you. He's got a boy friend, the same one for a long time. He likes helping guys in trouble; like it's religious or something. He's helped lots of guys – me, for example. That's a story for another time.”

He looked hard at me. “Your hair is darker – not as red any more.” His pause was interrupted by raucous laughter, a slamming door, and two bodies jostling each other. They looked like kids. “The fucking twins! That's what Evan calls 'em. The fucking twins.” The fucking twins were stripping their clothes off intending to join us in the pool. “They work for Evan,” was Jeff's minimal explanation. “I'm heading along. Don't leave. You hear me? Don't leave.”

Jeff climbed out of the pool and began putting his clothes on as the twins got the last of theirs off. From the shape and tone of their bodies, it was plain they weren't as young as I first thought. They popped him on the butt with their towels and ran for the pool as he gave up the idea of pursuit. “Introduce yourselves,” Jeff ordered. “And Terry?” He waited until I looked him in the eye. “Don't leave. Later, everybody.”

 

[EasyRory]

With any encouragement at all, I'll post more.

 

[Autolycus]

With any encouragement at all, I'll post more.

Welcome! Your story has got off to a very good start, I like your style and a fresh plot idea. Please do continue!

 

[harry113]

That was wonderful, Thank you. Please post more
Harry

 

[EasyRory]

Part Three - Brotherhood

The two shaggy blonds emerged from the water at the edge of the pool, one on either side of me, shaking off and blinking water out of their eyes. It was the deep end, so we all hung onto the edge. “I'm Christian,” I felt his dick brushing my thigh; he looked innocent but he had to know what he was doing. “And I'm Ethan,” the other said. “Race?” they asked together. “Go.” Down the length of the pool we finished close enough to call it a tie. “Again!” Back we went. This time one of them was clearly the winner, I couldn't tell which. More horsing around, grabbing, splashing, laughing. They swam in between my legs, tickled me, and then acted hurt when I splashed back. A mass of roiling water and bodies. They were very touchy boys, mostly in a non-sexual way. I felt their bodies bumping against mine and their hands were constantly all over me and I mean ALL over me. At one point, I couldn't be certain and it was over quickly, I think I felt a mouth on my dick. It was like being in the water with two playful seal pups - make that sensual, playful, curious, and definitely male seal pups. Panting, completely out of breath, I hauled out of the pool and they followed. They toweled their hair and faces and let the rest drip dry. One of them tossed me his towel; the other one became modest suddenly and held his towel in front of himself.

“I can't tell you apart.”

“Ethan is the one with the hard on.”

“Shut up, Chris.”

We lay down on three lounge chairs waiting for the sun to warm us. Christian's cock was limp and a little shriveled from the cool water like mine; Ethan wasn't completely erect but he did in fact have a semi lying heavily across his thigh that I pretended not to notice. I also pretended not to notice that he was cut and nicely endowed, with pubic hair darker than the blond hair dusting his arms, legs, and chest. His balls were big but without much hang; but maybe that was the cold water. It wasn't easy to look away from Ethan's body. Instead I carefully examined the trees screening us from the next house; even so I still felt a stirring in me.

Christian kept the chatter going. “Are you Evan's new project?” He paused and then added, “We were last year's project and see how great we turned out?” The two of them laughed and Christian told me some of their story. On the street at fourteen, six years of surviving with no education, hustling, drugs, trouble with the law. He confirmed that Evan offered them safety and help with no strings. “I mean, we do work for him; but he doesn't force us. We could leave any time – our choice... Once Ethan offered him sex, but Evan told him to keep his pants on.”

“Shut up, Chris.” Ethan was no longer hard. “Evan was always nice to us.”

They seemed open and honest; so I gave them my story, adding the part about dropping out of college in my final year and joining the Navy to get away from a violent, alcoholic father. I left out the fact that it sounded as if they were much more experienced sexually than I was and ended telling them about my mistake of looking for a bed in a gay bar.

After some more back and forth, the conversation lagged and a now-dry Christian said, “Let's go Ethan. Work calls.”

They dressed and I put the robe on again. As we walked into the house, Ethan, the quiet one, said to me, “Jeff's right. Stay a while. Don't leave.”

“I got no place to go and besides, I can't leave. My pants keep vanishing.”

With that Ethan, who seemed like the serious one, lit up with a chuckle and just looked at me until Chris tugged at his shirt.

“Come on, let's go. Work.” Christian, now all business, headed into the garage and tossed their towels into a clothes basket near the washing machine. He showed a tidiness I didn't expect from a 20 year-old.

Ethan held his ground and looked me in the eye. “I don't know anyone who uses words like 'vanishing'.” Then I got the flash of a 500-watt smile and he followed his brother. They got into their truck and drove away, Ethan doing the driving, Christian doing the talking.

“Wow,” I said out loud. “Wow,” again while I prowled the house looking for my pants. I found my wallet and stuff in the small bedroom where I had left them with my shirt and shoes, but no pants. The other two doors in the hall were locked. Then I heard the motorcycle.

I returned to the kitchen as Evan walked in. “I saw the fucking twins driving away,” he said with apparent disgust. “You met them?” I nodded and he continued, “I also talked to Jeff. He has your pants. He'll bring them back in an hour, he said. Wanted to make sure you'd still be here. The truck looks great, by the way. And so do you. You could model for Andy Warhol,” he added, looking me up and down, smiling, and not embarrassed at all this time. After the day I'd had, nudity seemed normal and I forgot the robe was hanging open; I covered up.

 

[EasyRory]

Part Four - The Second Coming

Evan collected the mail and looked through it while getting my agreement to spend a couple days. He talked to me about what I was hoping to do. I mentioned the film and video idea and he was encouraging, but warned me that Southern California, even San Diego, was full of people with the same idea and the closer the work came to Hollywood the more cut-throat the business became. He said talent was necessary and hard work even more important, which was kind of what every teacher and guidance counselor always preached; but in my circumstances, namely, on my ass with little more than a bathrobe, the advice seemed genuinely vital. Then he added a kicker, “With your looks, though, you might think about the other side of the lens. That also requires more work than you can imagine, but the physical accident of beauty opens doors.”

“Beauty?” I expressed disbelief.

“Yes, beauty. Call it 'handsome' if you like that better. And there's a deeper appeal when you talk. You've got it. It's hard not to look at you, you know?” And he kept looking at me in an appraising way. “All you really need is a good haircut.”

“Wow.” My idiotic reply hung in the air.

At that point Jeff knocked and walking in without waiting for an answer. I was glad to see him carrying a pile of clothes with my pants folded neatly on top. “Hey, Evan. Terry, here are your jeans and some other stuff. A guy who is about your size stayed at my house for a while and left this. He won't be coming back, so I thought maybe you could use it. If it doesn't fit, toss it.”

I took the clothes and went to the bedroom. It felt good to have my old comfortable jeans back on. They were still warm – Jeff must have washed and dried them again. They had been washed more in the last 24 hours than in the whole time I had owned them. I added shoes and my t-shirt decorated with a fading Stones concert ad.

“Well, you do look clean.” was Evan's comment. “And Downy-soft,” from Jeff. Back to their own business, “Take a look at that, Jeff. Let me know what you think. I'm meeting Will for dinner.”

Jeff stuffed an envelope into his back pocket and after Evan left turned to me. “You want a pizza? I have a local place on my speed dial.” He was already giving the order before I answered. “Forty-five to an hour. Hope you're not starving. They make you wait, but it's worth it.”

“What's the deal about 'the fucking twins'? Evan says it like they killed his dog or something.”

“Are you kidding? He loves them.”

“But ...”

“He loves them like they were his own sons, but he tries to be a little gruff - doesn't want to get too invested, he claims. There have been some disappointments – like Pete, the guy whose clothes I gave you. But the twins? He's nuts about them – in a good way – and proud of what they are making of themselves. You may not think they're much, coming from your background; but they're doing light-years better than when he found them.”

“That was another lesson from the USN: my family background won't make the brass shine. Gotta do that myself.”

Changing the subject, he said, “So Evan encouraged your film/video idea, huh? Let's watch the tube and you can tell me what you see.”

I turned on the TV and Jeff got a six-pack out of the fridge. We each picked one of the sofas and sipped our beers. A Star Trek episode came on and I began telling Jeff how it was shot. The cuts were to cover up the blurry pans and zooms of the technology of the time. The lack of closeups was because there was no depth of data in the image; a close-up chopped up detail, especially facial contours. I compared the show to some of the ads – they always spent more per minute on the ads. “See how the ad uses zoom to make the product pop in the shot?”

My technology lecture was eventually interrupted by the pizza delivery. I was much hungrier than I thought and we ate our first piece in silence, still watching Captain Kirk save a galaxy. I moved to his sofa, where the box sat, reaching for a second piece. “This is good.”

“Told you. So you really do know some stuff about shooting and editing. I don't know shit about it, but you make it interesting.”

“Mostly I know theory; some from college and some from Navy training. I haven't had all that much experience with modern commercial gear.”

He moved the pizza box. “Well, we gotta get you more experience.” With his look the mood changed. He took the half-eaten slice from my hand and asked, “Who's a Kappa?” He put his hands on the top button of my jeans and looked up for permission. My voice was shaky as I answered “I, sir. I, sir.”

He knelt on the floor between my legs and worked slowly down the row of buttons, one button at a time, spreading my fly. No boxers; they were in the bus station locker; I could see pubes and the start of my cock.. “I'm giving you time to change your mind,” he whispered, more to himself than to me. His hands roamed my body. I just sat there, giving silent permission and feeling my cock swell in the now tight jeans. He lowered his head and I could feel his lips kissing the base of my cock as he pulled at my clothes. I raised my hips to help and watched him pull my jeans off. One hand grasped my rapidly inflating shaft and the other cupped my balls. He licked at the head and then went down on me, letting my cock grow to its full size in his mouth. I didn't believe he could take it all; but he did. Taking a breath, he went back to kisses and licking up and down the shaft. “You have a gorgeous dick.” I'd never had a compliment like that before. Hot! He then went to serious sucking, holding my cock firmly while his head bobbed. At some point he started tugging gently on my balls. The pleasure rose fast and unbelievably. I slid lower in the sofa, stretched out my legs and pushed up into his mouth as he continued sucking harder. “Stop. I'm gonna cum.” He kept sucking all through my thrusts and groans and spasms; it was as an intense an orgasm as I'd ever had. My cum filled his mouth faster than he could take it and overflowed down the sides of my cock. He finally pulled off and began licking up what he had not swallowed as my peak faded. I tried to sit up, but he held me.

“No, you don't. You're not getting away. Sometimes guys get all shy and want to run after they come. But, just so you know, I'm not letting you.”

He was right. It was weird, like an involuntary panic; I did want to get dressed and out of there - fast. I didn't dislike what had happened and I sure didn't dislike Jeff; but I was now very aware of being exposed and vulnerable, which hadn't bothered me at all moments before. It wasn't like this with girls, although I never felt as cuddly afterward as they seemed to. Why now?

“You just shared sex with somebody who is almost a stranger. Showed me way more of yourself than you ever expected to. You feel a little guilty even though you did nothing wrong. And you're not sure if I liked it. And you want to get out of here. I loved it, by the way. ”

He took a swig of beer, swishing it in his mouth. He was now sitting next to me, holding me loosely around the waist. “You're allowed to put your pants on, but that's all.” I did, popped a can of beer, and followed up with another piece of pizza. “OK? Back to the video lecture. What kind of equipment would you like to try?”

With returning ease I continued our equipment discussion. After an hour of channel surfing and talking about different kinds of shots, he promised to see if a friend of his needed an apprentice. “I don't know if the pay will be much, but it won't hurt to ask.”

“Sure, I'll try anything.”

“Anything?” That glint in his eye. With little encouragement, my cock was raging hard again. This time Jeff took off his clothes. “I just want to feel my body against yours.” Even I knew that line was shit. I was sitting fully naked this time as he again knelt between my legs.

“Whose a Kappa?”

“I, sir. I, sir” in Kappa talk.

“Wanna try it?”

“Aye, aye, sir,” in Navy talk.

He stood up. His cock stood straight out from his body, ready. I tentatively tasted the head. Incredibly soft. He pushed a little more into my mouth. So far so good. I tried to imitate what he had done to me but as a beginner I was pretty much a knob-nibbler. He acted appreciative and encouraged me. I got braver and pretty soon held him in my hand while I sucked on about half of his length. We stretched out on the sofa on our sides and and eased into a sixty-nine position. I couldn't control myself, came too soon and knew it, but Jeff was a gallant liar, telling me I did great.

“I'm not done yet.” This time I knelt on the floor and worked on him the way he had demonstrated earlier. His reactions gave me clues about what he liked and I felt like I was good at picking up on them. He liked me to touch his nipples. Who knew? Well, now I did. He also liked pressure behind his balls, that part between his balls and his asshole, where I could feel the internal root of his cock. In a while, sucking, stroking, tugging, and pressing, I had him coming in my mouth. I gagged a little at the gush of semen and the taste, but felt it wasn't too bad for my first blowjob. He wiped the cum off my lips and pulled me into a kiss. Another first. Before I could decide if I liked the kiss, he hugged me close and whispered, “That was spectacular, Red.” Red was a sometimes knickname close friends used to call me in the fraternity, and on hearing it used with such affection I went all soft inside and responded to his hug with a squeeze. He kissed me again; I kissed him back and it wasn't half bad.

I had never seen a man right after sex. Jeff lay back, still breathing heavily, red in the face, his lips were swollen, and his cock was still semi-hard, leaking the last of his load. There was a look of complete satisfaction on his face. He was beautiful and I loved knowing that I was the cause.

We slept together in the small bedroom. The narrow bed kept us in contact with each other all night. In the middle of the night I woke up. I was snuggled up against Jeff and realized my hardon was lodged in his ass crack. He groaned and rolled over. “We'll get to that, but not tonight. Ok, Red?” He kissed my shoulder and we went back to sleep.

 

[Críostóir]

With any encouragement at all, I'll post more.

I encourage thee to post more of thy story.

(No, I don't usually talk like that. Just taking off on 'encouragement' from a Quaker POV. Whimsy struck me.)

 

[swmjck]

I love your writing style. It flows so easily. Can't wait to read more

 

[EasyRory]

Thanks for the encouragement. I see things wrong, and I thought I had proofread. Spelling, a couple of missing words, and an huge mistake. I don't think they had speed dial in the 70's.

I'm trying, I'm trying.

 

[EasyRory]

Part Five - Trampling through the vineyards

I woke alone about 6AM. There was a note from Evan telling me to make myself at home. Both the truck and the cycle were gone. The circumstances still felt weird; but after the sex, I otherwise felt great. There was stuff in the fridge, but I just ate couple slices of the left-over pizza – I love cold pizza - and got cleaned up. In the process the twins arrived and set to work cutting the grass and cleaning up the yard. They were fast and efficient and were done by the time I finished the shower and shave.

“Hey, Terry? I guessed it was Christian calling to me. “Morning, you have plans for today?”

“Nothing.”

“You want to come with us? We are doing some work in a vineyard. It's dirty work and it will take all day, but we'll split our pay with you.”

“Deal.”

I sat between them as Ethan drove east on I-8. Christian, as usual, was full of chatter. No, they weren't wine grapes, they were mostly table grapes, but the grower was experimenting with wine varieties. The land was flinty and dusty, not like Ohio, where the twins came from. No, not Cleveland, downstate, coal country near West-by-God Virginia.

When Christian finally paused for a breath, Ethan offered a quick glance and a smile, “Glad you're helping us today.”

Christian resumed at full speed. The workers were mostly Mexican so he was glad to have somebody, meaning me, around who could speak English. I interrupted him to ask if he really he meant 'listen in English', which got chuckles from Ethan. Christian ignored me and went on. The Mexicans did the really hard work, he and Ethan took cuttings and tried grafting some and rooting others. I asked if agriculture was what they wanted to do full time. “Oh hell, no,” from Christian. “I would,” from Ethan. They worked under the supervision of a foreman named Carter. He was the expert; they just followed orders. Carter didn't speak much Spanish, so he needed a couple of Gringos who could follow detailed instructions for the test growths.

“Carter has plans of fucking me; but that's not gonna happen,” Christian commented.

“Shut up, Chris.”

“Ethan, he does want to fuck me. You should see the way he looks at your ass.” I was having trouble with Christian's logic. “ I mean - my ass is exactly the same, so he must look at me that way, too.”

“Carter's a good guy.” I chose to believe Ethan.

“Yeah, I guess ... after some of the assholes we have worked for. Like that grocery store assistant manager? He wanted to fuck both of us.” Their looks were almost exactly identical, but their personalities sure weren't. It wasn't in Christian's nature to shut up; and Ethan just shook his head.

“Alright, Ethan, don't say it; but I did get us a raise that time – other times, too.” Christian turned away and looked out the window, silent. “Here's the turn off.”

Ethan pulled onto a dirt track and we bounced around as the truck rocked its way along the rough approach to the farm buildings. Out of the truck the brothers walked together and I followed. Christian looked down at the dirt. Ethan put his arm around his brother's shoulder. “Forget it Chris. We both did stuff we didn't want to do.”

“I did it for you.”

“I know that,” Ethan gave his brother's shoulder a squeeze and turned to me. “Carter has sun tan oil; and we'll find you a long-sleeved shirt; you'll need it.”

Carter turned out to be the good guy that Ethan had predicted. I didn't notice him looking at anybody's ass especially. He knew exactly what he wanted from his workers, though.

We went up and down rows of vines, looking for the right kind of shoot to cut. They all looked the same to me, but the twins could see differences. Some of the cuttings were for rooting and some were just trash. We hauled both kinds of branch and sometimes soil samples back to Carter in the barn.

“Does this look like fungus, Carter?” Ethan asked, pointing to the leaves of one particular branch.

“Good eye. I'll mix some fungicide in with the water. What kind should I use, Ethan?”

“How 'bout low-dose sulfur, it's only on one vine.”

Carter tousled Ethan's hair, “Are you sure you didn't go to U.C. Davis?”

“You taught me everything,” Ethan replied simply.

Next task Carter had us rig the irrigation lines along the rows we had just picked over. As we finished he arrived in a tank truck with a water and additives to hook up to the lines. Ethan warned me to stay out of the spray; sometimes it could burn. A little after noon we took a break for lunch. My shirt and the waist band of my jeans were soaked with sweat and showed I was the tenderfoot. The twins were more used to the sun. We didn't say much and ate something called “casamiento” a rice, bean, and meat stew with the Mexicans, who turned out to be Salvadorian. After lots of nodding and muchas gracias, we went back to work, this time in the barn, potting the cuttings and moving potted plants from one kind of light to a different kind. Carter was doing the grafting; he asked Ethan for some help with that and left Christian and me to wash pots and tools, clean equipment, flush tanks, turn some mulch piles, rake manure, and sweep the floor. We earned our money. We finished and joined Carter and Ethan.

Ethan was more animated than I had seen before, asking questions, commenting on progress and looking for confirmation from Carter. Carter did look at Ethan a lot, but it wasn't at his ass. Well, it was sometimes at his ass; but it was mainly the look of a teacher when his pupil gets it right. That look neither brother noticed.

Back in the truck, the twins shared their pay with me, insisting I take a third while I insisted I didn't deserve a full share. Evan's pool next? We all agreed on that.

The truck had a remote for the garage door. We entered and stripped in front of the washing machine and threw our sweaty clothes in together. Christian started the machine and told me that eventually the chemicals from the farm would eat up our clothes. We went to a screened shower outside by the pool and washed off the grime of the day.

“It seems like I'm never wearing any clothes around here.”

“Feels good, doesn't it?” from Ethan. As he turned to the water, I wondered if his dick was getting a little hard again. It looked bigger than Christian's. I thought to myself, Jeez, I'm already a dick connoisseur after just two blow jobs.

The pool felt great and the twins were as frisky as the day before.

We moved to the lounges again. Ethan offered to move the clothes to the dryer, but I went instead. They were stretched out in the late afternoon sun when I got back. We lay relaxing as the sun moved farther west. Christian pointed out that my hands and neck were turning a little pink. “Gotta watch that farmer's tan, Terry. A little beach time tomorrow will fix that. You surf?” He actually listened to my answer. “Well, we can go to a beginners beach if you want to try.”

“Yeah, come on. It'll be fun. Can't work every day.” Somewhere there is somebody who could say no to Ethan. I couldn't. “Great. See you early – nine or so.”

“Nine is early? I'm used to what the Navy calls early.”

“Nine is early for guys who work nights. Let's go, Ethan. Fun's over.” We all headed for the dryer to retrieve our clothes.

“You guys work nights, too? What do you do?”

Ethan walked ahead as if getting away from us. “We work at a bar. We're strippers. It's not too gross; we tease more than strip. Ethan doesn't like to talk about it”

Ethan was already dressed and heading for the truck as Christian and I fished out our clothes. I promised to be ready at nine and they left.

 

[EasyRory]

Part Six - The Shrine

“That's the name of the bar Evan owns,” Jeff explained, “Patriot's Devotion. I used to work there. You can, too, if you want. All of Evan's guys kind of pitch in there while they sort things out. The twins dance and sometimes bus tables because they can't tend bar; they're too young. Did I tell you what a hot body you have?”

Damn. I was still catching my breath, naked and leaning back against Jeff's chest. When he arrived I described a day of working with the twins and ended asking about the bar. Jeff ignored all that and said he'd been thinking about me all day. He had developed a strong personal dislike for my t-shirt, he said. I raised my arms and grinned as he took it off. Sure enough, he hated my pants, too. There were other criticisms until he finished. “There, naked and erect is the right look for you. Perfect, in fact.” He gently pushed me down onto the sofa and pulled off his own shirt. The feel of him against me was electric. His mouth got busy.

“Switch ends,” I told him. “I want you, too.” He shifted around and I opened his pants, pushed them down his legs. He was already sucking my cock while I was still fighting with his briefs.

“Here. Let me help.” He was out of the rest of his clothes in a flash. I loved the look of his cock, heavy and swaying in front of him, not yet fully hard. We went at it, sucking and stroking. He sensed I was getting close and said, “Don't come yet. I want to show you something.” He got between my legs and started sucking like before; next he put my legs on his shoulders, and then gradually raised them higher. While his hand stroked my cock, his mouth began doing new things, lapping at my balls, kissing my inner thighs, moving lower. I grabbed, stopping his hand in mid-stroke , I was so close; but his tongue kept going. He began alternately kissing, then sucking, then tonguing my asshole. At first, I felt nothing special, but a feeling I can't describe began to build. It wasn't especially pleasant at first and I tried to pull away. “Trust me,” Jeff said. I relaxed a little, and then, slowly, a little more. He kept it up and kept it up. I reached down to pull on my cock and found my belly wet as was the dripping head of my cock. I almost came from just barely touching myself. I groaned as Jeff's tongue slightly penetrated my hole and then repeatedly probed me. He took a breath and his kisses moved up my body. When he kissed me on the mouth, there was a taste and smell of where he had been. “Wow” was all I could say. While he looked for objection on my face, his finger began a rhythmic pressure on my asshole matching the gentleness of his lips on mine. I groaned and pumped my pelvis. As his finger entered me, he moved down and resumed sucking my cock. It was instantaneous. His finger triggered something and he deep-throated my cock. I exploded, thrashing on the sofa and letting out a wail I'd never heard – almost like a girl. My orgasm was a continuous ecstasy, a vibration, not the usual pumping and spurting I was used to. It didn't really last much longer than usual, but while it was going on I thought it would never stop. Jeff started to withdraw his finger but I grabbed his hand and gasped “Not yet.” He pressed close to me and let me ease down from my peak. I kissed him hungrily, I couldn't get enough.

Like all good things, it ended. He eased his finger out of my ass but continued kissing me. Then finally we just lay in an embrace. “Wow.” That is my universal announcement when I don't know what else to say.

“Was that ok, Red?” His closeness and kisses felt so perfect.

“OK? Are you kidding? I've never felt anything like that before.”

“Good.” he said, followed by more kisses. Finally he rolled off me and we lay side by side, still out of breath.

“Wait. What about you?” I started to sit up but he pulled me back in his arms.

“I came right before you did, rubbing my cock against your belly. I guess you didn't notice.”

I felt the sticky puddle on my stomach and sure enough, he must have. Jeff gave me an anatomy lesson about the prostate and what had happened. “I wanted you to know what I'll be feeling - how to make me feel that same way when you fuck me.”

“Fuck you? When's that going to be?” I'm sure I sounded over-eager.

“You gotta make me want it.” Then, when I was still trying to figure out what that meant, he gave me the explanation about Patriot's Devotion. “Want to go there tonight?”

Bang. Zoom We arrived at the bar after getting cleaned up, making out a little, and stopping for a burger. I was getting to like kissing a lot. It was a little after nine and the place had only a few older patrons sipping beers alone. Jeff introduced me to a bartender named Cliff, who eyed me and said,”You're the new project, huh? I don't know how he does it.”

“It looks kinda dead, Jeff.”

“It'll change. Right now I could kiss you and people would stare. In half an hour, we'll be lost in the crowd. Hey, Cliff, could you get Terry here a beer? Thanks. I gotta check on the office.”

“We got Coors, Bud, and Miller Lite. Heineken if you want to spend Jeff's money.”

“Thanks, I'll wait.”

“Fucking gorgeous,” Cliff said, staring at me. “I can see you blushing and it's dark in here,” he walked away with a laugh and came back to me after setting up a fresh drink for another customer. “He wants to buy you a drink.” Cliff tilted his head toward a guy six stools down the bar.

I walked down the bar and gave the guy my best smile. “Thanks for the offer. I'm not ready for a drink yet, but it's really great ...”

He cut me off. “Keep me in mind, pretty boy; that offer and more is good all night.” Ummmm, no, I thought to myself.

More customers had arrived and there wasn't a seat left next to mine for Jeff. “Almost show time,” Cliff winked and went into a back room.

Jeff walked up and urgently pulled me away from the bar. “They could use another bartender tonight. Want to make some money?”

“I don't know how to ...”

“Cliff will show you.” Jeff steered me into the back room where Cliff was standing in his boxers.

“Here, use this locker. Get naked and put this on. Shoes, no sox.” Cliff handed me something white, dropped his boxers and pulled on flimsy pants, white with bell bottoms. He watched me as I stripped. “Fucking gorgeous you are.” The pants clung revealingly.

“OK, come on. Most of the orders are for beer and don't give 'em a glass unless they ask. Everything is three dollars, Heineken is five. Push the Heineken. If they want anything else, call me. And we pool tips.”

We returned to the bar. It was transformed. Disco lights, disco music, and a lot more people. Cliff was right. The orders were mostly Coors and Miller Lite and multiplying by three wasn't that hard. I passed a couple of vodka tonic orders to Cliff and otherwise felt competent. We worked off the first rush of orders and got a breather. “You're doing fine, Terry.”

A guy at the bar shouted to Cliff above the music, “Hey, Cliff, I got a tourist friend. Can he get a picture?” Next to the requester, a geeky looking guy with a SLR around his neck smiled hopefully.

“No problem,” Cliff called back and stepped into a spotlighted arc. He flexed his biceps, posing in different positions and asked, “How do you want me?” The white pants almost disappeared in the intense light and clung to every bulge and curve; the darkness of his pubic hair showed faintly through the thin cloth and he looked almost naked.

“Uh, could we get the other guy in the picture, too?”

Cliff looked at me and held out his hands, palms up, “Want to?”

Uncharacteristically bold for me, I jumped forward into the spot and flexed. About six guys at the bar cheered. I don't know what got into me. I loved the attention. Cliff and I posed as the flash popped. Then the nerdy guy asked if we could “sex it up a little.” Cliff hugged me tight from behind, his crotch jammed into my ass. I half-turned toward the camera and he kissed me on the cheek. “Reverse and do the same to me,” he whispered. I did and felt him push his ass back against me. We did the head-turn cheek-kiss and it was done. Cliff faced away from the camera and pulled the pants down enough that the top of his butt was showing. “Put your arms around me like we're making out.” He turned around so I was hugging him from the rear. “Show us the goods, Cliff! Take it off.” Cliff broke the hug but left his pants low. “That only for the private show,” he winked at the crowd. The nerdy guy gave me twenty dollars and asked “OK?” I took the twenty and Cliff kissed the nerd on the cheek. “Free,” he said and got the nerd's effusive thanks. The guy who made the request quietly slipped me fifty and said, “Thanks, he's my boss from Louisville; I think this is the best night he's ever had.”

I flashed the fifty at Cliff and put it in the tip jar. Cliff's eyes popped and he muttered, “I think I love you,” as he passed by with beers for the customers.

Suddenly the lights flashed and the music throbbed. A voice announced, “You're not seeing double; the drinks aren't that strong.” Strobes hit a stage and the twins came out wearing only jeans and dancing. Just as suddenly the music stopped and the bar went black. “Come on, guys, take it off,” the voice demanded. Lights and music resumed and the twins were dancing in skimpy briefs. Guys left the bar and crowded the stage, clapping and calling out to the dancers.

“You're good. The customers like you. Look at the fucking tip jar,” Cliff pointed at the nearly full jar, as we waited for the customers to return. “I don't usually make half that much working alone.”

Cliff moved away and began wiping the bar. “OK, enough of that. They'll be back when the dance is over. Could you put some more beer in the coolers? We have about five minutes.”

“Sure.”

Four more cases from the back room chiller went into each of the three coolers. Evan and Jeff were sitting by themselves at the end of the bar. “Just like Pete,” I heard Evan say. Jeff looked down at his folded hands; then he and Evan left.

The night stayed busy and the twins danced three more times 10:30, 11:30, and 12:30. We were steadily busy and got good tips but no more photo requests. I had time to observe the twins. People would shout out the filthiest things to them. I commented to Cliff.

“You just dance; you don't listen. After a while, you don't even hear it,” he answered.

I watched some more. “How do you ignore people trying to grope you?”

“Money's money,” Cliff replied. “Some nights are harder than others.”

“Is there really a private show?”

“Just bartender bullshit. I mean, I'd do it if somebody made a real offer; but they never do.”

Some guy weaved up to the bar and beckoned to me. “Here you go, sweetie.” He leaned across the bar and with one hand tucked some cash into the waistband of my pants, and with the other got a good feel of my cock at the same time. Before I could react he was upright and weaving toward the door. Out of nowhere a burly guy with a Navy tattoos, helped him. “We like ya to have a good time, sir, but hands off the employees. Are you ok to drive?” Polite but very firm. I didn't hear the drunk's answer.

“It's a twenty.” I started toward the tip jar.

“Keep it. You earned it,” Cliff said. “It's like with the dancers. Some nights it doesn't bother you when they cop a little squeeze and the tip is good. The bouncers don't let them get away with much, but some nights they make you feel like dirt.”

A couple dancers I didn't know were up gyrating, but the crowd wasn't as attracted as they had been earlier by the twins. The twins came up in street clothes, and Christian pulled me aside. “Surfing's off. Carter needs us back at the farm.”

“Take me along?”

I guess I pleased Ethan. “You want to? Really? Sure!” We cemented the details and the twins left.

The last show ended and some of the the crowd started to leave, the rest drifted back to the bar. “Here come the desperate ones. We're about to close and they're facing another night alone.” Cliff said.

The offers started. How much for a fuck? Just let me blow you. Both of you, and I'll watch. Dollar amounts were proposed, but the proposals were gross. One guy with a foreign accent very seriously said, “In my village, men can marry.” I didn't listen to the rest; it began creeping me out.

Jeff came in as the last of the customers were leaving. “Cliff, can you take Terry to the Hillcrest house? It's on your way, isn't it? I got business.” He left without waiting for an answer.

As we changed out of the white bells, Cliff proposed that we didn't have to go right to Evan's house. He was nice looking, but nothing clicked. I didn't want to tell him flat out no, so I pretended to consider the idea. Then I told him I had to work early the next morning and it was already 2AM. He dropped me off and said he'd like to pair up at the bar again. This offer was about the money, nothing else. I said yes.

 

[Críostóir]

Something nefarious is going on behind the scenes, methinks. But I have only speculation; as yet it is no more than that.

Seriously, loving this so far.

 

[Autolycus]

Rory,

Your story telling is not only proving prolific but totally enthralling as well. Thanks for a truly great read.

 

[EasyRory]

Part Seven - New Routine


I settled into working with the twins days and at the bar nights, but I only saw Jeff briefly at the bar. He was the same guy and interested in how I was doing, but preoccupied. Evan regularized my stay at the house. “Here's a key and here are the rules, Terry. There aren't any. Stay as long as you want. I appreciate the work you do and you fit right in – you have common sense and everyone likes you.”

We did get Sunday off; and Sunday was welcome. I was relaxing outside, clothed this time, sitting watching the traffic in the valley and thinking about Cliff's suggestion that we ought to have some kind of act that we could do behind the bar. Not dancing like the guys on the stage, but something.

“Knock, knock.” Jeff called.

“Jeff! Good to see you. What have you been up to?”

“You're supposed to say 'Who's there?'“ He sat on the grass beside me.

My “Who...” was smothered by his kiss. “See, Red, I kissed you just long enough that we can either take it farther or laugh it off.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I want to get fucked.”

“But you said I had to make you want it.”

“Today, just looking at you works. Come on, let's go.”

In my room he said, “I'll show you a secret about this bed.” It opened like a book into a bed twice as wide and half as high. He was gentle at the start, sucking me, kissing parts of my body that had never been kissed before.

Then he lay back and pulled me into a hard kiss as his legs wrapped around my ass. In between kisses, he cautioned, “Remember how you felt when I fingered you? Take it easy at first and tell me when you're gonna shoot.” I sucked on his cock and then tried to mimic the way he had rimmed me. The sounds he made told me I was doing a decent job. I thought I might have trouble eating his ass, but as soon as I started licking, it seemed natural and as I probed with my tongue I felt the tightness relax. I put my finger on his hole but he stopped me. “Don't use your finger, just fuck me.” I tried but it didn't work. “You're not wet enough. Slick up your cock with spit,” he suggested. That worked and I slid slowly into his tight, gripping warmth. I looked in his eyes for permission and he pulled me into a kiss. “Start slow.” I gently withdrew and then pushed back in. “Aaaah!” Again. “Yes,” he whispered. Again and again, pumping in a building rhythm. “Don't stop, don't stop.” I loved the feeling that I was controlling his pleasure; that his response was directly to me. He stroked himself. “I'm getting close, Red.” He wet his thumbs and rubbed them on my nipples. What a feeling! It was like my nipples were hard-wired to my balls; I was instantly on the edge. “Jeff, I'm gonna cum!”

“Stroke me when you cum.” He pulled my mouth to his and we exploded almost simultaneously, my cum in his ass and his cum coating our bellies. He held me close with my cock still in him. I remembered the feeling of emptiness when he took his finger out of me and hugged him back in no hurry to pull out.

“Jeff?”

He opened his eyes and looked into mine. “What?”

“I just wanted to make sure this was real.”

We relaxed against each other until my dick softened and slipped out of him. That broke the spell and I move off of him. We lay side by side, now and then swapping kisses. I didn't want it to end and I don't think Jeff did either.

We took a shower, had dinner at a neighborhood restaurant, and then did it over again.

I thought he would spend the night, but as I sucked his cock to start a third round, he pulled away and started dressing. “I think I have created a monster.” He gave me a quick kiss and then a long kiss and left.

Monday began my new routine again. There were still surprises, but I was getting the hang of a new life. The twins set a new date for the beach.

 

[EasyRory]

Part Eight - Beachboys

By the time I got cleaned up and into bed Monday night it was close to 3 and sleep came quickly but not for long. Loud noises in the hall awaken me. I wasn't sure what to do until, with relief, I recognized Evan's voice, “Careful. Don't hit his head.”

Evan and Jeff were hauling a slumped body down the hallway and through one of the doors that had been locked. I asked if I could help.

“Get a wet wash cloth, Terry.”

I returned with the cloth. Jeff was holding the body up in a chair while Evan took off the guys shoes. His face was covered in … I didn't know what.

“Wipe his face off, OK?” asked Jeff.

“Holy shit, it's Mr. Carlton. You know, the guy I got caught with on the ship.”

“San Diego,” sighed Evan. “Eventually everybody has been fucked by everybody else.”

They got his clothes off and Jeff, eying my boxers, said, “You got the fewest clothes on. Get in the shower with him and if he falls don't let him hit his head.”

Soap, water, and the wash cloth did their work. Mr. Carlton revived and looked at me, “Summers? Is that you?” It was funny hearing that name; last names weren't used much in my new world. Evan got a couple of aspirins into him and Mr. Carlton's world faded to black. We got him to a bed like mine in a room like mine.

“Looks like you have a housemate, Terry; at least for the night.”

By the time I got back to bed it was 4AM. I slept for maybe a minute and a half. That's what it felt like. The twins were in my room waking me up. “Eight o'clock. Come on, let's go. Good waves today.” Christian pulled the covers off me. “Oh yeah, nice one,” he commented. My morning erection was poking proudly out of my boxers. “I guess Terry didn't get any last night.”

“Shut up, Chris. Give him some privacy,” said Ethan who, despite his words, couldn't help checking me out.

Annoyed, I pulled on my jeans, jamming my dick in a little painfully. In the Navy, lots of guys got out of their racks at reveille with erections. Everybody pretended not to notice - unless it was remarkable, of course. One guy we called 'Horse' got his nickname because he was way more than remarkable. Average dicks like mine got no comment.

“Evan and Jeff brought ...” I wondered what to call him. “...a new project in last night. I haven't had much sleep.”

“Yeah, that happens,” Ethan said. “Is he gonna stay?” Ethan's voice was full of concern but his shorts were bulging a little. He noticed my glance and returned a what-can-I-say look. A sympathetic erection? If Christian had notice his brother's state there would have been plenty said; but he didn't. He was already heading for the fridge for some orange juice.

“What are you two grinning about?” Christian emptied his glass and we left his question alone.

“I actually know the guy they brought in. Navy. I feel like I better stay here 'til he wakes up.”

The twins didn't argue and promised to take me another time.

I looked in on my guest and saw he was sleeping heavily. I left him the bathrobe and slippers from my room and took his clothes to wash in the garage. They were still wet and smelly. He must have puked all over himself. I busied myself cleaning up dishes in the kitchen and then looked at the sofas to see if Jeff and I had left any pecker tracks behind. With the variety of cleaning supplies in the kitchen, I stayed busy for an hour or so. Then white-robed sleeping beauty appeared.

“Good morning. Juice? Aspirin?” I had put them on the kitchen counter.

“Summers? It WAS you last night. Where am I?

“Yes, it's me. You are in a house in Hillcrest and your clothes are being washed. The stuff from your pockets is on the counter over there, Lieutenant Ca....”

“Dickhead is what you ought to call me. I'm so sorry about … Ow! My head.”

“Take the aspirin, Dickhead. First thing we do, we'll fix the hangover.”

He took two pills and a swallow of the juice. “It's not exactly a hangover. I got beat up, too. Can I go back to bed for a while?”

“Sure. See you later.” And away he walked, slowly.

While he was napping, I decided to retrieve my seabag from Greyhound. I walked downtown but the bag was heavy and I decided to take the bus back. The world seemed to have changed in the brief time of my stay in Hillcrest. Physically everything was the same, of course; but waiting for the bus I noticed I was getting admiring looks, some shy and careful, some blatant. I was used to that from chicks, but from guys – that was something new or maybe something that I just never noticed before. I realized that my range of sexual possibilities was now twice what I used to think it was.

A guy stopped his car and offered, “I'm going up to Washington Street near the hospital. Want a ride?” I could walk to Evan's from there. “Yes. Thanks.” I threw the seabag in his back seat and sat in front.

“Now you know why there are never any cute guys on the bus. Old queens like me scoop 'em all up.”

I wasn't used to people being so up front about being gay, but what the hell. “You're not so old,” I lied.

“That'll get you a ride to wherever you're going. Flatter me some more and I'll try to adopt you.”

I glanced in the back seat and saw a new Canon A-1 and some other equipment I didn't recognize. “Nice camera. You a photographer?”

“Yes, but not people. Only plants and flowers, indoors and out.”

I shared my photographic interests with him. He was encouraging and gave me his card as he dropped me off. “If I land the contract I'm working on, I might be able to use some help shooting. Call me on the first of next month, if you want to talk more.” I thanked him and told him I would call.

The Lieutenant was sitting in the kitchen with the glass of juice. “Hey, Dickhead, feeling better?” The Navy formality lingered; I could call him Dickhead but I didn't feel comfortable using an officer's first name.

“Summ... I'm sorry; I don't even know your name.”

“Terence or Terry.”

“Dickhead is fine for me; or Mark if you want.”

“So you want some details, Mark?”

“Yes, Terry,” he stumbled a bit on my name. “But first, I have to tell you how sorry I am for the mess that I got you in, getting thrown out of the Navy. I was so stupid. I didn't think about you. I didn't ...”

“Apology accepted. I was willing, you know. You didn't force me to do anything.”

So with that over I told Mark about Evan and his 'projects'. “So you can stay one night or a week or even longer I guess. When I landed here, also passed out, I didn't know what to do, no home to go to; and Evan has been great.” In his turn Mark told me that the Navy takes a little longer to kick officers out; “They like to prolong the agony.” When it finally happened his family told him to get lost.

I told him about the twins and the farm and the bar and Jeff. “So don't leave. Stay 'til you get your feet on the ground. You know, that's just what Jeff told me: Don't leave. Evan seems to have a hundred jobs for guys; so you do kind of pay him back, but you can make some cash too.” I stopped to take a breath.

“Terry, you are exactly the person I thought you were. It wasn't just sex I wanted. I wanted to get close to you.”

“Well, you did. We were only inches apart when the Chief walked in.”

“Fuck,” Mark said and hugged me.

As he grabbed me, the robe fell open; I think the damn thing was designed to do that. “Is that an order or an invitation?”

Mark pulled away and quickly closed the robe. “That 'fuck' was supposed to mean something like 'thanks', but if you want to ...”

We were distracted by engine sounds and slamming doors. Christian came in, “Fuck!” He glanced at us. “Oh, did I interrupt something, I hope, I hope. Terry and the NEW new project were about to...”

“Shut up, Chris.” Ethan explained the problem. Their boards had slid off the truck rack and there were gouges and torn fabric in the fiberglass. I made introductions and Mark added that he knew how to patch fiberglass. Ethan said he'd appreciate it if the boards weren't ruined.

“I'm hot,” Christian said, pumping his hips. “And he's sweaty,” pointing to Ethan. “We're going for a swim.”

They went out to shower and I asked Mark if he wanted to join them. “I don't have a bathing suit,” he said.

“Neither do I,” I answered, unbuttoning the top button of my jeans. “Things are pretty casual around here.”

The twins, who actually had been wearing suits when they arrived, didn't use them. I caught a reflection of the four of us in the windows of the house. Basically just four young white guys, but we were diverse enough if you looked.. The twins were a little shorter; their shaggy blond hair shone almost white in the sun; the hardness of their lean, fit bodies was offset by the softness of their light brown eyes. Mark was a little taller, dark, almost black hair with startling blue eyes, and beefier. At exactly five feet eleven and one half inches, I was in the middle for height and build, too, with my darkening copper hair and green-gray eyes; but I didn't have the white freckled skin of some redheads. I noticed the twins and I were tan, while Mark was paler.

By now I could tell the twins apart if I saw them together; there was a hardness in Christian that Ethan didn't have. If it was only one of them, I couldn't tell and was as lost as Mark appeared to be. They entranced him, as they did everybody they met. They were doing their touchy thing with him. I really couldn't tell if it was calculated or just the way they were.

Rather than stand around staring at each others dicks we got in the water. Nobody said that was the reason, but there was the hint of sexual tension went away with everybody in the water. After a while Jeff joined us and brought a ball. After meeting Mark, the games began. We tried water polo, then keep away, then just general mayhem. Finally we took a break.

Christian swam off by himself and surveyed the rest of us. “Four guys in lust with each other and nobody's getting fucked.” He climbed out of the pool, shaking his head. “I'll never understand you gay guys.”

“You gay guys?” I was surprised.

“Chris is straight,” Ethan offered, looking away. Jeff nodded at me; and Mark looked as surprised as I must have. “He messes with guys, but only when he has to – you know, for money. He doesn't like it.”

“I get off, so I DO like it - sometimes; I just like girls better. Coming, Ethan?” Christian finished dressing and went inside. Ethan said he'd see us at the bar and left, too.

Jeff's only comment was “Life is tough for fourteen-year-old hustlers.”

Mark raised his eyebrows but said nothing. I explained about the bar and asked if Mark wanted to work. He agreed to help tending bar. “You mind if I take a nap in the meantime. I'm still feeling a little rocky?”

“Go,” said Jeff. “You want to see my house, Terry? We can give Mark some quiet.”

We barely got across the street and through the door before we were pulling our clothes off. “I want to fuck you before Ethan does. Can I fuck you, Terry?”

Nods and kisses were followed by the hard fact of getting fucked. It probably helped that I didn't really know what I was in for. He spread some Vaseline all over his cock and my asshole and took me from the rear, as he positioned me - butt in the air on his bed. I gritted my teeth and let him enter me. His cock hurt me, but there was a need in Jeff that I wanted to satisfy. I don't think he would have stopped anyway; one way or another I was fucked. After minutes that seemed much longer the pain eased. I just felt a full feeling of discomfort and it only hurt when he went deep. He pulled me upright and we twisted into a kiss. “Aw, Red, I want this so much.” Then he shoved me back down and pounded away, gradually shoving me across the bed a couple of inches every time he banged me. Just as I thought he was going to shove me off the bed, he pulled out. Damn, at that point pulling out hurt worse than fucking me. He rolled me over and lifted my legs, folding them back against my chest. He plunged in again, ramming his cock into me. Having him back in me felt good this time and he held me. It felt like he was enveloping me with his body, wrapping his arms around me and kissing every part of me his mouth could reach. Slowly and this time more gently, the fucking resumed and built; he was jarring my body with every thrust until he came. His cries were pleasure enough for me even without an orgasm of my own.

I lay in a happy stupor, feeling good and knowing I had satisfied a man. I realized my belly was sticky and I wondered if I had cum without knowing it. Jeff was sighing my name in between kisses and telling me things I liked hearing. I wanted him to stay with me forever. I wondered if this was how a woman feels after a good fuck. He shifted to my side and we fell asleep.

 

[EasyRory]

Part Nine - The Show Must Go On

Jeff was awakened first by the phone call. I opened my eyes to his kiss and his complaint about a wrong number. We got dressed and he asked if he had been too rough.

“You were great; but that was my first time. I don't know exactly what too rough is.”

“I hope you never do. Let's go get Mark.”

While we were walking over to Evan's, I asked Jeff, “What did you mean about before Ethan fucks me?”

“You haven't noticed? He's crazy about you. I don't think he knows it himself and I don't know if he'd use the words quote in love with you unquote; but it's almost that. You could really hurt him with the wrong move. And those boys don't need to be hurt again, either one of them.”

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

“I mean no way do I want to hurt him.”

The back seat of Jeff's car was full of bar supplies so the three of us crowded into the front. I shared what I knew about the bartending business with Mark and the fact that Cliff and I got better tips when we could engage the customers, make them feel part of the scene. “You'll get used to the pants we wear. There's a shirt, too. Sometimes if its warm we don't wear the shirts. I've been trying to figure out how Cliff and I could perform a little at the bar, not like the dancers exactly, but something to keep the tips flowing.”

With just a few solitary drinkers in the place, Mark, Cliff, and I worked at getting the bar set up for the night and loaded the chillers. Cliff was agreeable to trying three guys and allowed that two had more than doubled the tips he had been making by himself.

Changing in the backroom, Mark was hesitant about the wardrobe. “I can pretty much see everything you got,” he said to Cliff and me, hardly believing his eyes.

“You'll get used to it; it really isn't any more exposure than some bathing suits. We can wear the shirts tonight,” Cliff decided. “Just remember, Mark, the customers can look but not touch – well, not touch much. Sometimes you might get a little pat. If somebody is really bothering you, let the bouncers handle it. They keep a close eye on things.”

“Ok?” I asked. “You ready?”

“My momma warned me there would be nights like this, but she never saw these costumes.”

I noticed that Mark was shy at first, holding his hands or a wiping cloth in front of his crotch as much as he could. Evan noticed it was well and told Mark that if bartending was too hard he could find him something else to do. Mark asked if it was ok if he had a drink to help get over the nerves. Evan said ok, but only one. Mark poured a hefty drink and tossed it down, looking apprehensively at Cliff and me. Cliff just laughed and watched as the alcohol took effect.

Ten minutes later, with a resigned “What the fuck!” Mark relaxed and went to work. The crowd built up enough that the barstools were all taken an hour before the first twins' first show.

“Hey, Mark,” called one of the customers.

Mark looked up and replied, “Casey? What are you doing here?”

“What do you think I'm doing here? You know, I always wondered about you. And then when I heard you got tossed out, I was sorry I hadn't made a move. Summers is here , too, huh? Cozy. Didn't figure I'd see you again; but, whoa! There's a lot to see.” Casey eyed Mark up and down.

Mark held his arms out and pivoted slowly . “Take a good look. That's what I'm here for. Got nothing more to lose. What are you drinking?” After bowing to a couple of guys who whistled, Mark served Casey his Bud. He was getting a little red in the face, humming an odd tune, and starting to enjoy himself.

“Guys, stand on either side of me and back me up.” He tied a couple of cloths together and draped them on his head like a wig. He dinged on a glass for attention and began singing in a little girl's voice about a Daddy who wouldn't buy her a bow-wow. At the chorus he got everybody including Cliff and me to sing along. “Daddy wouldn't buy me a BOW-WOW, bow-wow. I've got a little CAT, and I'm very fond of THAT, but I'd rather have a bow-wow-wow.” After the next verse, he made the chorus a little raunchy, looking lasciviously at Cliff and me as possible bob-wows. The third time he muttered “go with this” and pretended to grab our crotches at the bob-wow repeat. The fourth time around with the bar's rapt attention, he squeezed his legs together and fingered himself as a masturbating girl would on the “got a little CAT” part and then knelt between Cliff and me and yanked our pants down for the final line. Looking from one cock to the other, he yelled out “Nice Bow-Wow's, Guys!”

It was just a flash of flesh, but the crowd burst into astonished applause and laughter as Cliff and I quickly pulled our pants up; they were astonished because complete nudity wasn't legal. Mark took deep bows and passed a glass begging, “Feed the kitty, guys. Gotta buy a bow-wow.” At the end of his second trip up and down the bar, the glass was full of bills.

Evan stepped behind the bar and called for attention. “OK, everybody. That was the first and probably the last performance of the funniest act ever at Patriot's. But San Diego's finest might not be as thrilled. When they're on my premises, the bartenders will keep their clothes on.” He pretended to shake a warning finger at us but walked away laughing. The three of us got busy filling drink orders.

The twins came up to the bar and said, “Great show. I don't know what we can do to keep them interested after that.” Ethan's eyes lingered on me. “Nice bow-wow,” he mouthed.

The music and the lights fired up and the dancing began. As our bar business slowed, Cliff counted the cash “There's $400 in the tip jar. Shit, Mark, you can pull my pants off every night for that. Well, actually for a lot less than that.” Cliff decided he had said too much and looked over at the dancing.

With a sly grin, Mark pulled out Cliff's waist band and checked out the goods “Maybe I will. Maybe I will.”

Cliff replied, “Any time, dude. It's all yours,” and I knew he meant it. Mark did, too; both of them looked surprised and pleased.

The last I heard, or rather overheard in the back room from the two of them was, “You just met me. You can't love me,” answered by “Not yet, but maybe I will.”

Left alone after Mark and Cliff left together, I bummed a ride to Hillcrest from the twins. They were still wired from work and came in to see what was on the tube; nothing as it turned out. Christian picked up a magazine and Ethan wondered if the sky was clear enough to see stars. I volunteered that I learned some of their names in the Navy. We went outside to look, but it was overcast and the reflected lights of the city blotted out any stars.

“Wait, Ethan. There is something I have to tell you.” He paused at the door. “You know there is somebody who really likes you.”

“Oh yeah, who?” I could hear the hopefulness in his voice.

“Carter.”

“Carter? Bullshit.”

“He does. He hides it, but he likes you a lot. Wait. Just listen to me. He's a few years older than we are and probably feels stuff deeper. If you're not really careful, you could hurt him. And he's a good guy, he doesn't need to be hurt. For him, it's not like with us. I mean, you're great and all - but we could spend a night fucking and it would just be a one-time thing. It wouldn't matter to either one of us and we'd never do it again. Shit, we might not even like it – sex gets funny with friends. But it would be different with Carter.“ I paused a bit and then closed, “You'll be careful with him?”

“Yeah, sure,” Ethan said, walking through the door and thinking things over. “Chris, I'm taking a piss and then we can go.”

Ethan went down the hall and Christian said, “That was the nicest blow-off I've ever heard. Terry, my man, you are tons smarter than I thought.” Christian shook my hand and then held it between his hands. I may have lost a potential fuck, but I made a real friend that night.

Ethan came out of the john. They left and the smart guy got to spend the night alone. Not the best outcome, but there are worse.

 

[seanystarr]

this is an amazing story mate, just read it all through and I am seriously impressed (and not a little turned on!)

more soon please!

 

[harry113]

Thanks well developed story, well written and most enjoyable
More Please
Harry

 

[EasyRory]

Part Ten - High Times

The twins picked me up and we headed for the farm. Ethan asked if Mark could try patching the skin of their surfboards any time soon. I told him I hadn't seen Mark since closing last night, but I'd ask. Christian sang, “Mark and Cliffie sitting in a tree...”

“Could be,” was all I said.

Christian dozed and Ethan said he was glad I warned him about Carter. “I'm going to see if you're right about that.” After that we listened to the radio the rest of the trip. It was a typical day. Carter had Christian and myself working in the fields while he and Ethan worked in the greenhouse. After a couple of hours we headed toward the greenhouse to meet Ethan for lunch. As we approached we saw Carter sitting in a chair with Ethan straddling his lap kissing him; they were naked and didn't notice us.

Christian looked away from the vision of his brother and turned away. “I believe my brother is happily getting fucked. You want to eat with the Mexicans?”

“Salvadorians. Yeah, good idea.”

We got two six packs of Coke out of the barn and headed to a grove of trees. We shared out the Cokes and I accepted a plate of casamiento. Christian didn't eat, just sipped the Coke. The Salvadorians finished and went back toward their part of the farm except for one. That Salvadorians asked, “No tiene hambre?” He made eating motions.

“No, gracias, no tengo hambre,” said Christian in what sounded like fairly decent Spanish.

The Salvadorian persisted, “Marijuana?”

That was different. We got pleasantly toasted and communication with the Salvadorian became easier.

“Me llamo Cristiano. Eso chico es Terry.”

“Terry?”

“Si, Terry. Um … Quizas Terencio en Espanol?”

“Ah, si” which seemed hilarious to the three of us.

“Mario,” our new friend said pointing to himself. He pointed to us and asked, “Maricones?”

Christian giggled, “Mas o menos, Mario. He's asking if we're gay. I told him 'sort of'.”

“Yo tambien, mas o menos.”

“Mario!” The Salvadorian foreman wanted him to get back to work. I didn't need any translation to figure that out.

“Si, papi,” he yelled back. “Es mi padre.”

I was nicely blown away enjoying the day and wanting more casamiento. Mario and Christian were gesturing and talking or trying to. Then Mario left with a wave to me. “Ciao, Terencio.”

Christian sat down with me again. “Mario wants us to take him to a gay bar. I said we'd take him on Saturday.”

“Good deal ... Oh, Man, I haven't had pot like this in a while - I'm starving.”

Christian laughed. “That's why I didn't eat anything. Once you start, there's no stopping ... Uh, Terry?” he looked at me questioningly. “Did you like what you saw of Ethan back there?”

“You guys are both amazing. You know that.”

“You like Ethan enough to want to mess around with him?”

“Shit, yeah. Why do you have to ask? You two get a dozen offers every night.”

“But you pretty much told him you weren't interested. So, um … So, you want me instead? It would be almost the same.“

I looked at him dumbfounded. He put his hand on my cheek. “I mean it. You'll never know the difference.”

“Christian ...”

“That's ok. Just an offer. I thought you'd like to know what you walked away from.”

Walking back, we began coming down off the buzz. Ethan and Carter were busy setting some oak barrels on racks. You couldn't miss them sharing what they thought were secret smiles. The day ended and we headed back to town. Christian crashed before we got onto the main road. Ethan saw me nodding. “Smoking at lunch, huh?” He patted my thigh. “Thanks for the talk last night.”

Since the Salvadorians were also working other farms, we didn't see Mario the rest of the week, but he showed up Saturday at the end of the day for his introduction to the Gringo gay bar scene. The back of the twins truck was full of old lumber from a shed we tore down. Carter wanted us to take it to Evan's house, so I was all set for a crowded ride back to town with four of us in cab. At the last minute Ethan said, “Chris, Carter has some work I need to finish. I'm gonna stay here. See you tomorrow, ok?” He tossed Christian the keys to the truck.

I could tell Christian was stunned, but he just said “Sure, Ethan,” and the three of us left.