Latham certainly got the intimate *tour* - or others did of him!
This was a particularly fun read!
This was a particularly fun read!
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Fauquier County Whatever
- Thread starter EasyRory
- Start date
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Twenty-Six - Richard
“Rub-a-dub-dub!” I spat out the words with disgust.
“What? You've never seen three dudes in a hot tub before?” With elaborate languor Euie took a sip of something cold.
“Join us,” Mac added.
It seemed like a good idea. I stripped and wrapped myself in a towel for the walk back to the tub. Just before getting in, I dropped the towel. Mock gasps came from two frauds and one innocent.
“Richard, put that weapon away. We're wearing bathing suits!” Euie nodded significantly at the third party.
I quickly found one of Tommy Lynn's guest suits, the ones that wouldn't fit anybody. This one was green and saggy and let my dick hang out a little. Well, I tried. I returned to the tub feeling about as modest as a fifty year-old stripper.
“That is SO much better,” Mac laughed. “Hollis, avert your eyes.” Hollis, the third party, who looked like he was about fifteen, stared instead. From a certain drafty coolness I could tell part of my dick was hanging out.
“You are Hollis?” I querried.
“Hollis Ellis Harrison of Hopewell,” he replied. “You don't remember me? You suggested I apply to work here.”
Oh, yeah, Professor Inglis' protege. “You look much younger naked.” He smiled and stood up without embarrassment, revealing a lush and decidedly mature body. “I thought you said you were wearing bathing suits,” I said to Mac.
“I just like seeing people in those things Tommy Lynn keeps in the pool house.” I slipped the green monster off and slapped it onto the deck.
“So, Mr. Harrison of Hopewell, how do you like Warrenton's finest investment advisory service?”
“Awesome!” He smiled at Euie and Mac. “Nobody in Hopewell has fringes like this.” He gestured toward the pool and his glass of whatever they were drinking. “Hot tub and cold … what is this, Mac?”
“A gin and tonic, without the gin.”
“I thought it was a vodka tonic without the vodka. That's how I always make them. In fact I'm going for another and then back to work.” Euie climbed out of the tub and pissed me off the way he always does. It just isn't fair that he has a perfect ass. Super-fucking-fuckable. Round and firm and maybe just a tiny bit too big. Every God damned time I see him I want to squeeze it, bite it, lie on it like twin cushions while I fuck his … Alright. Enough of that. Euie hates me. And he's soooo cute. It just isn't fair. And I notice young Mr. Harrison is paying Euie real close attention, too.
“I guess I better go, too,” Mac said and he prepared to leave. Naturally the kid got up to follow.
“Stay a minute, Mr. Harrison,” I asked him. “Sit over here.” I indicated a place closer to my side. He surprised me by sitting so close I felt the brief touch of his thigh on mine. He sipped his drink and looked at me expectantly. “You and Inglis … did you have a thing going?”
“No, absolutely not. He would never mess with one of his students.”
“That was last year. What about this semester?”
“I see him now and then. I'm not his student anymore. He's sort of my adviser. Informally.”
“Uh-huh. You know he told me about you – got me to put you in for an internship here.”
“Yes, and thank you for doing that.” He looked at me with total sincerity and innocence. Then I felt his hand on my thigh. “I'm grateful for your help.” I winced slightly when he touched my cock, which was still half-hard cause of Euie's ass. It sprang to life in his fist. “I can be very grateful, Richard.”
Ok, I was shocked. The little slut! He reminded me of me. There was nothing tentative in his grasp of my growing situation either. And then he yawned. Well, God damn! “Bored already?” I asked him.
“No. I was opening wide as a test, wondering if I could take you. You're big. You skinny guys are always surprises.” The little fucker's smile was charming and he knew it. I swear if I didn't already have plans …
“I'm not saying no or anything, Hollis; but the truth is I didn't really have much to do with getting you hired here. The dude you want to show your gratitude ...” And I couldn't help it; I gave his 'gratitude' a nice little squeeze. “ and that's a very nice piece of gratitude you have … the person who actually hired you and will fire you if you disappoint him ...” I was going to say Tommy Lynn, but just then I noticed the motion of a second-story window curtain. The old perv was watching us! I changed horses. “ … the person you want to be nice to is George Brightwater.”
“The guy in the suit?”
“He does dress with unusual formality considering he's alone most of the time.”
“Are all his suits so baggy?”
“Form-fitting isn't always best in a business suit.” Who did this little asshole think he was criticizing George's taste in clothing? “You really want to be VERY grateful to George.” And as if the power went off, he dropped my cock and climbed out of the tub. Young and slim, but tasty with a nice cock swaying heavily. I guessed he was showing me most of what his full erection would be before he covered up with his towel. I climbed out after him and he stared.
Well of course he stared. I have a big cock the sight of which took the charming smile off his face and replaced it with a look of lust. Oh, yes, George Brightwater, you may get to nail young Hollis first, thanks to me, but from that look I'd say he's mine any time I want him.
I relaxed a moment longer in the pool and finished the drink Hollis left behind. Tonic water and lime. Refreshing. I noted another flicker of cloth in the upstairs window and turned slowly, giving the viewer my best angles. Then I retrieved my clothes and dressed. I walked back to the office I shared with Euie and Mac, passing George's office on the way. There was Hollis, looking over George's shoulder at some spreadsheet on the desktop. His pelvis was jammed firmly against George's arm. George looked a little flustered; Hollis didn't. His charming smile was set to maximum dazzle and aimed directly at George.
I sat down at my desk and got absorbed in the possibilities of feldspar, a mineral as common as dirt; in fact it pretty much IS dirt, except in some mixtures, like fracking sand, it has intriguing potential. Some feldspar, particularly the alkaline varieties could be a non-polluting drilling lubricant. And Racer of all people (why not ME??) owned a feldspar mine in North Carolina. He was warned that it was worthless – Tommy Lynn told him; but I think he bought it because he felt sorry for the owner who needed money to open a bar. Also, if I knew Racer at all, he was fucking the dude. And I know Racer a little. So did Racer have some premonition about feldspar or is he just a luck idiot who likes people who are good fucks? I calculated that his feldspar mine wasn't going to make put him in Bill Gates' league, but it was nothing to ignore. His once worthless feldspar mine was a valuable asset if its new uses panned out. The question was should he sell now and let the buyer take the developmental risk or should he hang on for a bigger ride. Sell for a couple hundred thousand or hang on for a few million, maybe. A big maybe for a big payoff.
“And with Racer's luck, they'll probably strike oil under that nude beach he bought,” I said to Euie. No answer. I looked up. The room was empty and the sun had set. Shit. I was supposed to check on Will at the store. He's closed up by now. Double shit! I put my papers away and headed for my car. There was still a light on in George's office. I tiptoed closer and looked in. Well, God damn!
There was Hollis wearing just a t-shirt based on what I could see. Hollis sat on the desktop and George was in his chair. George's head was burrowing in Hollis' lap, so I couldn't tell precisely what was happening, but George's bobbing head said a blowjob was the 99% probability. Hollis caught my eye and a not real attractive smirk showed on his face. I'm not sure if I heard him or if I read his lips. Maybe both. “Fuck me” is pretty easy to make out either way. George put Hollis' ankles on his shoulders and rolled him back onto the desk. He stood up from the chair, tugged his boxers down and got in position to do the deed. I walked away and heard a muffled cry of pain. I tried not to laugh. It was so typical of George not to have any lube on hand.
I got into my car and needed to put the headlights on. The night was already dark the way it only gets dark in the country. I drove carefully over the rutted dirt driveway that lead away from Tommy Lynn's place. The lights of the big house were dim, coming only from a few windows. As I got closer I could see bright lights coming from an open door in the barn. Will was home! It wasn't what I had planned, but it would have to do.
I approached the open barn door and heard voices. “Willis! I declare, you never come to dinner! You never see people! You are a disgrace the likes of which no Perry … almost no Perry ever came close to!”
“Momma, jus' leave me be. We can do this tomorrow, ok?”
“Tomorrow. That's all you ever say. No wonder your wife left you. And took MY grandchildren!”
I coughed, announcing my presence. The scene quickly resolved. Will was drunk and Marlee was pissed. “Evening, Mrs. Perry, can I help here? I came to see Will and ...”
“Lord of Mercy! I don't know why you did! Look at him! He's been sick on himself or something vile.”
“Why don't you let me handle this? You shouldn't have to clean up after him.”
She squinted at me. “Why thank you so much and you look familiar, but, um, who are you actually?”
“I'm Richard. I work for Tommy Lynn. I stopped to see if Will had a chair in stock at the store.”
“Yes, of course.” Her gratitude was obvious although she still had no clue who I was. So much gratitude today. I hoped she didn't want to display it. “I'll leave you to it, kind sir. And YOU,” she glared at Will, “I'll see you in the morning.”
“Will.” Just saying his name put a worried look on his face. “First we get you cleaned up.” He was groggy and uncooperative, but I wrestled him out of most of his clothes and said, “Where's the shower?”
“Out side,” he said and pointed at a light switch. I flipped it and a pool of light appeared outside the door. It was dark. I got wet. Will got wet. The water was not hot. The air was cold. We were shivering when we went back inside. “Blankets.” he pointed to a wooden cupboard. The two of us sat on a sofa wrapped in blankets still shivering in our underwear. “Fire.” He pointed at a button on the wall next to the fireplace. I pressed it and a gas-assisted fire roared to life. As I rewrapped the blanket around myself he rose and walked toward another cabinet. He staggered and fell before he got there. “Want a drink,” he mumbled, looking at the cabinet.
“Multisyllabic! Awesome!” I mocked. “You've had enough.” He looked at me with I-hate-you in his eyes. I helped him back to the sofa. “You're drunk!” He didn't question it. “I warned you what would happen if I found you this way again.” That got his attention.
“No!”
“You know the rules, Will.”
“I never agreed to the rules!”
“You never agreed to the drunk driving laws either, but you'll go to jail if they catch you.” I let that sink in. “Jail, maybe prison if there's an accident involved. Prison, Will. A boy with your soft hands doesn't want to go to prison. Prison would be MUCH worse that me.”
“No!” He wanted to resist. He tried to. Finally, after I ripped his underwear off, he gave up the fight. Face down, he whimpered now and then while I fucked him. Pain or just tears, I wasn't sure; I don't think he was sure either. When it was over I helped him to his bed and covered him up. I put the fire and the lights out and left.
Driving home, I decided he had no grounds for complaint. Yeah my dick is big, but unlike George Brightwater, I had a lubed condom in my pocket. There was no blood. He expected me at the store, so my arrival at the barn couldn't have been a complete surprise. He knew the rules, even if he didn't agree to them. I set my alarm and slept until five. I drove back to the barn and found him still sleeping. I took off my clothes and got in with him. He groaned in his sleep but didn't wake up. The bed was warm. I snuggled up against him and surprised myself when my dick got hard. It felt nice lying snug up against Will's ass. I wasn't sure what would happen when he would awaken but whatever, that was part of the plan.
“Richard!” He was awake. He recoiled as far from me as he could and still be in the bed. “You fucked me!”
“Good morning, Mr. Obvious. Are you hung over?”
“You fucked me.” He said it again as the facts slowly sunk in.
“Your question should be how many times did I fuck you. Then, you might ask whether you liked it. Then you might ask what's for breakfast.”
“You son of a bitch.” He didn't sound angry, just disgusted.
“You look like shit. Put some clothes on.”
I watched him dress. He wasn't that old. Late twenties, I guessed. But his body showed signs of neglect. A little flabby, a little thick in the middle, and a very haggard face. All of that was fixable at his age. My mind's eye imagined an improved version of Will. He could be pretty hot. It was possible, something to work on.
“Wear sturdier shoes,” I ordered. “We're going for a run.” When we got back to the barn, he showed physical signs of humanity, the gray of his cheeks brightened to slightly rosy. “Now we're going for breakfast at your Momma's and you are going to be a gentleman to her.”
Marlee, like all mommas everywhere, couldn't stay mad at the apple of her eye. She, ok she didn't, but the cook did; the cook cooked up a vast, buffet-filling breakfast and we ate for an hour. Mostly they talked about incidents from Will's childhood, good times made even better by the enhancement of a mother's kind, but not totally reliable memory. Her parting words were encouraging. “Try, honey, try.”
“I walked him back to the barn. “Try, honey, try,” I mimicked, “because if I find you drunk, you're getting fucked again.” He didn't say anything. “I'll see you at the store next Wednesday.” I planned to take a condom with me.
“Rub-a-dub-dub!” I spat out the words with disgust.
“What? You've never seen three dudes in a hot tub before?” With elaborate languor Euie took a sip of something cold.
“Join us,” Mac added.
It seemed like a good idea. I stripped and wrapped myself in a towel for the walk back to the tub. Just before getting in, I dropped the towel. Mock gasps came from two frauds and one innocent.
“Richard, put that weapon away. We're wearing bathing suits!” Euie nodded significantly at the third party.
I quickly found one of Tommy Lynn's guest suits, the ones that wouldn't fit anybody. This one was green and saggy and let my dick hang out a little. Well, I tried. I returned to the tub feeling about as modest as a fifty year-old stripper.
“That is SO much better,” Mac laughed. “Hollis, avert your eyes.” Hollis, the third party, who looked like he was about fifteen, stared instead. From a certain drafty coolness I could tell part of my dick was hanging out.
“You are Hollis?” I querried.
“Hollis Ellis Harrison of Hopewell,” he replied. “You don't remember me? You suggested I apply to work here.”
Oh, yeah, Professor Inglis' protege. “You look much younger naked.” He smiled and stood up without embarrassment, revealing a lush and decidedly mature body. “I thought you said you were wearing bathing suits,” I said to Mac.
“I just like seeing people in those things Tommy Lynn keeps in the pool house.” I slipped the green monster off and slapped it onto the deck.
“So, Mr. Harrison of Hopewell, how do you like Warrenton's finest investment advisory service?”
“Awesome!” He smiled at Euie and Mac. “Nobody in Hopewell has fringes like this.” He gestured toward the pool and his glass of whatever they were drinking. “Hot tub and cold … what is this, Mac?”
“A gin and tonic, without the gin.”
“I thought it was a vodka tonic without the vodka. That's how I always make them. In fact I'm going for another and then back to work.” Euie climbed out of the tub and pissed me off the way he always does. It just isn't fair that he has a perfect ass. Super-fucking-fuckable. Round and firm and maybe just a tiny bit too big. Every God damned time I see him I want to squeeze it, bite it, lie on it like twin cushions while I fuck his … Alright. Enough of that. Euie hates me. And he's soooo cute. It just isn't fair. And I notice young Mr. Harrison is paying Euie real close attention, too.
“I guess I better go, too,” Mac said and he prepared to leave. Naturally the kid got up to follow.
“Stay a minute, Mr. Harrison,” I asked him. “Sit over here.” I indicated a place closer to my side. He surprised me by sitting so close I felt the brief touch of his thigh on mine. He sipped his drink and looked at me expectantly. “You and Inglis … did you have a thing going?”
“No, absolutely not. He would never mess with one of his students.”
“That was last year. What about this semester?”
“I see him now and then. I'm not his student anymore. He's sort of my adviser. Informally.”
“Uh-huh. You know he told me about you – got me to put you in for an internship here.”
“Yes, and thank you for doing that.” He looked at me with total sincerity and innocence. Then I felt his hand on my thigh. “I'm grateful for your help.” I winced slightly when he touched my cock, which was still half-hard cause of Euie's ass. It sprang to life in his fist. “I can be very grateful, Richard.”
Ok, I was shocked. The little slut! He reminded me of me. There was nothing tentative in his grasp of my growing situation either. And then he yawned. Well, God damn! “Bored already?” I asked him.
“No. I was opening wide as a test, wondering if I could take you. You're big. You skinny guys are always surprises.” The little fucker's smile was charming and he knew it. I swear if I didn't already have plans …
“I'm not saying no or anything, Hollis; but the truth is I didn't really have much to do with getting you hired here. The dude you want to show your gratitude ...” And I couldn't help it; I gave his 'gratitude' a nice little squeeze. “ and that's a very nice piece of gratitude you have … the person who actually hired you and will fire you if you disappoint him ...” I was going to say Tommy Lynn, but just then I noticed the motion of a second-story window curtain. The old perv was watching us! I changed horses. “ … the person you want to be nice to is George Brightwater.”
“The guy in the suit?”
“He does dress with unusual formality considering he's alone most of the time.”
“Are all his suits so baggy?”
“Form-fitting isn't always best in a business suit.” Who did this little asshole think he was criticizing George's taste in clothing? “You really want to be VERY grateful to George.” And as if the power went off, he dropped my cock and climbed out of the tub. Young and slim, but tasty with a nice cock swaying heavily. I guessed he was showing me most of what his full erection would be before he covered up with his towel. I climbed out after him and he stared.
Well of course he stared. I have a big cock the sight of which took the charming smile off his face and replaced it with a look of lust. Oh, yes, George Brightwater, you may get to nail young Hollis first, thanks to me, but from that look I'd say he's mine any time I want him.
I relaxed a moment longer in the pool and finished the drink Hollis left behind. Tonic water and lime. Refreshing. I noted another flicker of cloth in the upstairs window and turned slowly, giving the viewer my best angles. Then I retrieved my clothes and dressed. I walked back to the office I shared with Euie and Mac, passing George's office on the way. There was Hollis, looking over George's shoulder at some spreadsheet on the desktop. His pelvis was jammed firmly against George's arm. George looked a little flustered; Hollis didn't. His charming smile was set to maximum dazzle and aimed directly at George.
I sat down at my desk and got absorbed in the possibilities of feldspar, a mineral as common as dirt; in fact it pretty much IS dirt, except in some mixtures, like fracking sand, it has intriguing potential. Some feldspar, particularly the alkaline varieties could be a non-polluting drilling lubricant. And Racer of all people (why not ME??) owned a feldspar mine in North Carolina. He was warned that it was worthless – Tommy Lynn told him; but I think he bought it because he felt sorry for the owner who needed money to open a bar. Also, if I knew Racer at all, he was fucking the dude. And I know Racer a little. So did Racer have some premonition about feldspar or is he just a luck idiot who likes people who are good fucks? I calculated that his feldspar mine wasn't going to make put him in Bill Gates' league, but it was nothing to ignore. His once worthless feldspar mine was a valuable asset if its new uses panned out. The question was should he sell now and let the buyer take the developmental risk or should he hang on for a bigger ride. Sell for a couple hundred thousand or hang on for a few million, maybe. A big maybe for a big payoff.
“And with Racer's luck, they'll probably strike oil under that nude beach he bought,” I said to Euie. No answer. I looked up. The room was empty and the sun had set. Shit. I was supposed to check on Will at the store. He's closed up by now. Double shit! I put my papers away and headed for my car. There was still a light on in George's office. I tiptoed closer and looked in. Well, God damn!
There was Hollis wearing just a t-shirt based on what I could see. Hollis sat on the desktop and George was in his chair. George's head was burrowing in Hollis' lap, so I couldn't tell precisely what was happening, but George's bobbing head said a blowjob was the 99% probability. Hollis caught my eye and a not real attractive smirk showed on his face. I'm not sure if I heard him or if I read his lips. Maybe both. “Fuck me” is pretty easy to make out either way. George put Hollis' ankles on his shoulders and rolled him back onto the desk. He stood up from the chair, tugged his boxers down and got in position to do the deed. I walked away and heard a muffled cry of pain. I tried not to laugh. It was so typical of George not to have any lube on hand.
I got into my car and needed to put the headlights on. The night was already dark the way it only gets dark in the country. I drove carefully over the rutted dirt driveway that lead away from Tommy Lynn's place. The lights of the big house were dim, coming only from a few windows. As I got closer I could see bright lights coming from an open door in the barn. Will was home! It wasn't what I had planned, but it would have to do.
I approached the open barn door and heard voices. “Willis! I declare, you never come to dinner! You never see people! You are a disgrace the likes of which no Perry … almost no Perry ever came close to!”
“Momma, jus' leave me be. We can do this tomorrow, ok?”
“Tomorrow. That's all you ever say. No wonder your wife left you. And took MY grandchildren!”
I coughed, announcing my presence. The scene quickly resolved. Will was drunk and Marlee was pissed. “Evening, Mrs. Perry, can I help here? I came to see Will and ...”
“Lord of Mercy! I don't know why you did! Look at him! He's been sick on himself or something vile.”
“Why don't you let me handle this? You shouldn't have to clean up after him.”
She squinted at me. “Why thank you so much and you look familiar, but, um, who are you actually?”
“I'm Richard. I work for Tommy Lynn. I stopped to see if Will had a chair in stock at the store.”
“Yes, of course.” Her gratitude was obvious although she still had no clue who I was. So much gratitude today. I hoped she didn't want to display it. “I'll leave you to it, kind sir. And YOU,” she glared at Will, “I'll see you in the morning.”
“Will.” Just saying his name put a worried look on his face. “First we get you cleaned up.” He was groggy and uncooperative, but I wrestled him out of most of his clothes and said, “Where's the shower?”
“Out side,” he said and pointed at a light switch. I flipped it and a pool of light appeared outside the door. It was dark. I got wet. Will got wet. The water was not hot. The air was cold. We were shivering when we went back inside. “Blankets.” he pointed to a wooden cupboard. The two of us sat on a sofa wrapped in blankets still shivering in our underwear. “Fire.” He pointed at a button on the wall next to the fireplace. I pressed it and a gas-assisted fire roared to life. As I rewrapped the blanket around myself he rose and walked toward another cabinet. He staggered and fell before he got there. “Want a drink,” he mumbled, looking at the cabinet.
“Multisyllabic! Awesome!” I mocked. “You've had enough.” He looked at me with I-hate-you in his eyes. I helped him back to the sofa. “You're drunk!” He didn't question it. “I warned you what would happen if I found you this way again.” That got his attention.
“No!”
“You know the rules, Will.”
“I never agreed to the rules!”
“You never agreed to the drunk driving laws either, but you'll go to jail if they catch you.” I let that sink in. “Jail, maybe prison if there's an accident involved. Prison, Will. A boy with your soft hands doesn't want to go to prison. Prison would be MUCH worse that me.”
“No!” He wanted to resist. He tried to. Finally, after I ripped his underwear off, he gave up the fight. Face down, he whimpered now and then while I fucked him. Pain or just tears, I wasn't sure; I don't think he was sure either. When it was over I helped him to his bed and covered him up. I put the fire and the lights out and left.
Driving home, I decided he had no grounds for complaint. Yeah my dick is big, but unlike George Brightwater, I had a lubed condom in my pocket. There was no blood. He expected me at the store, so my arrival at the barn couldn't have been a complete surprise. He knew the rules, even if he didn't agree to them. I set my alarm and slept until five. I drove back to the barn and found him still sleeping. I took off my clothes and got in with him. He groaned in his sleep but didn't wake up. The bed was warm. I snuggled up against him and surprised myself when my dick got hard. It felt nice lying snug up against Will's ass. I wasn't sure what would happen when he would awaken but whatever, that was part of the plan.
“Richard!” He was awake. He recoiled as far from me as he could and still be in the bed. “You fucked me!”
“Good morning, Mr. Obvious. Are you hung over?”
“You fucked me.” He said it again as the facts slowly sunk in.
“Your question should be how many times did I fuck you. Then, you might ask whether you liked it. Then you might ask what's for breakfast.”
“You son of a bitch.” He didn't sound angry, just disgusted.
“You look like shit. Put some clothes on.”
I watched him dress. He wasn't that old. Late twenties, I guessed. But his body showed signs of neglect. A little flabby, a little thick in the middle, and a very haggard face. All of that was fixable at his age. My mind's eye imagined an improved version of Will. He could be pretty hot. It was possible, something to work on.
“Wear sturdier shoes,” I ordered. “We're going for a run.” When we got back to the barn, he showed physical signs of humanity, the gray of his cheeks brightened to slightly rosy. “Now we're going for breakfast at your Momma's and you are going to be a gentleman to her.”
Marlee, like all mommas everywhere, couldn't stay mad at the apple of her eye. She, ok she didn't, but the cook did; the cook cooked up a vast, buffet-filling breakfast and we ate for an hour. Mostly they talked about incidents from Will's childhood, good times made even better by the enhancement of a mother's kind, but not totally reliable memory. Her parting words were encouraging. “Try, honey, try.”
“I walked him back to the barn. “Try, honey, try,” I mimicked, “because if I find you drunk, you're getting fucked again.” He didn't say anything. “I'll see you at the store next Wednesday.” I planned to take a condom with me.
Does Richard have redeeming qualities?
First he sends Hollis to George to give his profound *thanks* for the internship;
Next he puts it to Will for failing to stay on the wagon - of course, I'm not completely sure his incentive plan to stay sober is the right one, long term.
Still, - there is some nobleness there - even with the background calculations...
First he sends Hollis to George to give his profound *thanks* for the internship;
Next he puts it to Will for failing to stay on the wagon - of course, I'm not completely sure his incentive plan to stay sober is the right one, long term.
Still, - there is some nobleness there - even with the background calculations...
EasyRory
JUB Addict
It's all part of his plan - or is it?
Thanks for commenting. I wondered if anybody was still reading this.
Oh, I definitely am - just been a hectic and tiring week or two - work, and sick family left me running and a bit ragged.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Twenty-Seven - Euie
“I'm worried, Euie. Tommy Lynn wants another doctor. I said to him you've known this one for years. You trust him. And he said, 'I went to him and complained that I get very dizzy if I stand on one leg. And he said to me, 'Well that's easy. Don't stand on one leg.' Tommy Lynn tried to pretend it was funny, but I didn't laugh.'
“I wouldn't either, Buddy. What can he do?”
“Well, the doc said Tommy could go to a hospital for a thousand tests of vision, inner ear sensitivity, and muscle-motion measurements and he'd probably get the same answer. Don't stand on one leg.”
“So that means the doctor isn't worried, huh?”
“But I am. I can't put my finger on it, but something's different. Tommy's insanely jealous of the gardener I hired. And he's got NOTHING to worry about. The dude is totally straight.”
“I thought Lonnie was totally gay.”
“Not Lonnie, the other one.”
“Oh, that one. I don't know what to tell you, Buddy, but the guy does seem to have a little thing for you.” I'm not married; I had no idea what pressures Buddy must be facing.
Buddy smiled and changed to subject. “You say that with such a giddy grin on your face. Are you in love again?”
“Well ...” I told him about my weekend meeting Rayner and getting to know him; just the basics, I didn't want to bore him with details since what happened next was a whole lot more interesting. “So Tuesday I knew Quint would be out. He's a comp-sci major but he's added a forestry course from Virginia Tech, which means he'll be gone for at least a couple of hours hunting up a forest to study. The course was called “A Breeze in the Trees” by serious science nerds, but Quint has this idea about applying computer graphical analysis to forestry and wants to pursue it.”
“Enough about your roommate. What about your youthful lacrosse friend?” Buddy prodded, looking at his watch.
“Ok, but Quint's a good friend. I just wanted you to know that. Yeah, so Rayner. Hoo!”
I told him about the meeting and our first weekend and got a smile. Then came our Tuesday date! Whoa!
“He felt so good in my arms, like a shoe that fits perfectly right in the store? He came in the room and, bam, we were at it, makin' out, clothes falling off. He was so eager and receptive; but when I stuck it in a little … WHOA! I barely got the head in, and I used a bunch of lube, when he screamed so loud I was afraid a dozen people would break into the room to rescue him. I froze and started to pull out, but he grabbed me by the hips and said 'NO! Wait! Do it! Just go easy!” It was torture for him, but he wouldn't let me stop. 'Rayner, we don't have to do this,' I pleaded. 'I want to; I want to do it for you,' he insisted. Tears were streaming down his face. I hurried and finished up; but still he wouldn't let me pull out. We talked about it. He said it hurt, but he felt so good afterward. And he kept moving, you know, little fucking motions, keeping me hard. Next thing I knew we're back to fucking and he came! All over the place! So then he got out of bed, standing there naked with a half hard dick, looked at his phone and said, 'Quint's due back in … three, two, one ...' And the door rattled! “Wait a sec,' I said. But it wasn't Quint, thank God; it was somebody from down the hall wanting a book. Rayner laughed his ass off, got dressed, gave me a little kiss, and left saying something about Thursday in his room.”
“Euie, you have a way more exciting life than I do. It's a great day when I can get Tommy Lynn to top.”
“Yeah, so Thursday, I went to his room and he said we had an hour. It was a nice sweet, no-muss no-fuss fuck. Kinda romantic, actually, except for the hurry up part. I said what about the weekend and he said he had to go home. It was hay stackin' time. And then he said, 'Why don't you come along? It'll be my brothers and parents, maybe my sister. We gotta get the hay in before it rains.”
“To feed the animals? You know, I've been thinking about getting a horse or two.”
“No, no animals. They sell it. Any way, I took my stat exam Friday morning and by noon we're heading south. His daddy's place is about an hour and a half. By two in the afternoon, I was sweating in a field hooking bales up into a stake truck. Dude! That's HARD WORK! You prop one end on your hip and pull the bale up by the wire and hope the dude in the truck grabs it before the wire cuts your hand. I barely remember dinner and went to bed exhausted. I didn't even mind when Rayner said we had to stay in separate beds, because his parents room was just one thin wall away. The next day it was the same. We worked all morning and were done by mid afternoon. We both took a little nap, which was so good, magic, really. By dinner time, I felt showered and rested and the food – I wouldn't have cared what it was – but his momma's actually a good cook. And we had some local wine that his daddy said was made from blueberries. Pretty good! Not great, but pretty good. We all watched some old family videos and then went to bed. Again, those sheets never looked so good. But just as I was falling asleep, Rayner crawled in with me. 'I can't spend another night alone,' he says. Trying to be as quiet as possible we messed around. Now, Buddy, I know I was totally silent. No signs, groans, no nothing! But Rayner was … uh, less quiet and at the end he says 'What a fuck!' way too loud. I shushed him and he just giggled. Then we slept. Breakfast was ok, but his daddy kept eyeing me. After we packed the car and were ready to leave. Rayner forgot something and went back to the house. His daddy came up to me and, looking like a BEAR, says, 'Are you fucking my boy?' “
“Jeez, Euie!” Buddy looked as panicked as I felt getting the question.
“ 'I said, ARE YOU FUCKIN' MY BOY?' he yelled at me. I muttered, 'Yes, sir.' 'WHAT?' he demanded. 'Yes, sir, I am.' I thought he was gonna kill me. He clenched his fists … you know what a farmer's fists look like? Monsters! But he didn't. He calmed down and said, 'Don't hurt him.' I sputtered something. 'Just don't hurt him,' he repeated. “No, sir, I won't,' I promised and me at the same time wondering if the Tuesday tears constituted 'hurting him'. Rayner busted up the little talk and we drove away. I didn't breathe easy until we were two miles out the gate. I told Rayner what happened and he said, “Yeah, the stare! My brothers and I grew up in fear of it, but he never laid a hand on us. He's a pretty good dad actually. I'll talk to him.' 'Rayner, dude,' I said, 'Just what are you going to tell him.' And Rayner says, Buddy I swear this is true, Rayner says, 'I'm going to tell him I love you.' “
“My God! Euie!”
“I know! I said to him, 'Don't you think you should tell me first?' and he says, “I'm scared.' Of me???? 'No, not of you, I'm scared of loving you.' And with that he pulls off the road, drives into some trees and parks. 'I want to take some apples back to school,' he says and he starts getting undressed. 'The trees are full of sap,' is his explanation. He climbed a tree in his underwear saying it was one of his daddy's orchards and the pickers always left a few apples. 'Hold out your shirt,' he said and the next thing a two pound apple landed in it. Then another and another. He switched to another tree and got three or four more. Then he came down with one in his underwear. He pulled it out and held it up for me. Man, it was the sweetest thing! And then he took a bite out of it and we stood chewing and grinning like hillbilly idiots. And then he kissed me and the kiss was as sweet as the apple. And then without a word he took my clothes off and … it was way different. He was the boss. This kid, last week's virgin, fucked me like a pro. I said how'd you get so good? And he said it was automatic. He just did what he thought I'd like him to do.”
“Euie!”
“I know! Twice! There I was! All out of breath lying naked in an apple orchard. No lube but spit. Cum all over me. And then, his dick was still in me, he said, 'I want to be naked with you always. I love you.' I swear I thought he was gonna fuck me again. But the sun was going down and he didn't.“
“God, I'm glad I'm not you. I'm glad I know you, but I don't want to be you.” Buddy laughed and then laughed again. “I'm so glad I have freaky friends.”
“So … we get back to school and he's back to normal. My turn to top. His roommate got back right after we were done. He complained about the room smelling of cum and it being too cold to open the windows. And Rayner said to him, 'You love it.' And his roommate picked up a couple books, said to me, 'Good luck,' and left again. The semester was gonna end on Wednesday and I asked about Christmas. He said, 'Oh sorry, we always take a cruise, the whole family, for Christmas.' So that's how it ended. He loves me and fucks me silly and I'm starting to think maybe he's alright, too, and then – poof - he's gone for two weeks.”
Buddy shook his head. “Only you, Euie. So … how'd you do on the stat test?”
“A minus. He taught me every problem almost exactly as it appeared on the test. Like he had a copy in advance or something.”
“Well, with Rayner gone, what are you doin' for Christmas? Want to come stay with us for a couple days?”
“I was thinking about working a few parties with Cary, but, although I could use the money, that might be a problem ... You're needin' company?”
“Tommy Lynn doesn't want to do anything. We have invitations to stuff, but he doesn't want to go. He seems reasonably happy but the office will be closed down and I can't do all the talkin' for weeks on end.”
“It won't be weeks. We'll all be there in between the holidays closing out the year.”
“You will? Oh thank God. I gotta learn more about the business. And then there's this kid. Hollis. I don't even know how old he is ... Twelve or something? He's coming on to Tommy and when that doesn't work, he'll settle for me, he says … And then George gets all pissed off ...”
“Uh, just so you know, Buddy, I think George has a little thing for the kid. Richard said ...”
“Richard said the kid is a slut! That's what Richard said – like he's all pissed off about it, too. I never thought I'd hear Richard, of all people, criticize somebody for sleeping around!”
“Not much sleepin' goes on, from what I hear. The kid's a pistol. Hot looking, too. I know I'd have trouble saying no.”
Buddy smiled at me. “Are we havin' fun, Euie?”
He caught me by surprise; I wanted to hug him. “I am. I hope you are. You're an awfully good friend, Buddy.”
“Merry Christmas, Euie. Good luck with Rayner.” He shook and then held my hand for an instant before left the bar.
“I'm worried, Euie. Tommy Lynn wants another doctor. I said to him you've known this one for years. You trust him. And he said, 'I went to him and complained that I get very dizzy if I stand on one leg. And he said to me, 'Well that's easy. Don't stand on one leg.' Tommy Lynn tried to pretend it was funny, but I didn't laugh.'
“I wouldn't either, Buddy. What can he do?”
“Well, the doc said Tommy could go to a hospital for a thousand tests of vision, inner ear sensitivity, and muscle-motion measurements and he'd probably get the same answer. Don't stand on one leg.”
“So that means the doctor isn't worried, huh?”
“But I am. I can't put my finger on it, but something's different. Tommy's insanely jealous of the gardener I hired. And he's got NOTHING to worry about. The dude is totally straight.”
“I thought Lonnie was totally gay.”
“Not Lonnie, the other one.”
“Oh, that one. I don't know what to tell you, Buddy, but the guy does seem to have a little thing for you.” I'm not married; I had no idea what pressures Buddy must be facing.
Buddy smiled and changed to subject. “You say that with such a giddy grin on your face. Are you in love again?”
“Well ...” I told him about my weekend meeting Rayner and getting to know him; just the basics, I didn't want to bore him with details since what happened next was a whole lot more interesting. “So Tuesday I knew Quint would be out. He's a comp-sci major but he's added a forestry course from Virginia Tech, which means he'll be gone for at least a couple of hours hunting up a forest to study. The course was called “A Breeze in the Trees” by serious science nerds, but Quint has this idea about applying computer graphical analysis to forestry and wants to pursue it.”
“Enough about your roommate. What about your youthful lacrosse friend?” Buddy prodded, looking at his watch.
“Ok, but Quint's a good friend. I just wanted you to know that. Yeah, so Rayner. Hoo!”
I told him about the meeting and our first weekend and got a smile. Then came our Tuesday date! Whoa!
“He felt so good in my arms, like a shoe that fits perfectly right in the store? He came in the room and, bam, we were at it, makin' out, clothes falling off. He was so eager and receptive; but when I stuck it in a little … WHOA! I barely got the head in, and I used a bunch of lube, when he screamed so loud I was afraid a dozen people would break into the room to rescue him. I froze and started to pull out, but he grabbed me by the hips and said 'NO! Wait! Do it! Just go easy!” It was torture for him, but he wouldn't let me stop. 'Rayner, we don't have to do this,' I pleaded. 'I want to; I want to do it for you,' he insisted. Tears were streaming down his face. I hurried and finished up; but still he wouldn't let me pull out. We talked about it. He said it hurt, but he felt so good afterward. And he kept moving, you know, little fucking motions, keeping me hard. Next thing I knew we're back to fucking and he came! All over the place! So then he got out of bed, standing there naked with a half hard dick, looked at his phone and said, 'Quint's due back in … three, two, one ...' And the door rattled! “Wait a sec,' I said. But it wasn't Quint, thank God; it was somebody from down the hall wanting a book. Rayner laughed his ass off, got dressed, gave me a little kiss, and left saying something about Thursday in his room.”
“Euie, you have a way more exciting life than I do. It's a great day when I can get Tommy Lynn to top.”
“Yeah, so Thursday, I went to his room and he said we had an hour. It was a nice sweet, no-muss no-fuss fuck. Kinda romantic, actually, except for the hurry up part. I said what about the weekend and he said he had to go home. It was hay stackin' time. And then he said, 'Why don't you come along? It'll be my brothers and parents, maybe my sister. We gotta get the hay in before it rains.”
“To feed the animals? You know, I've been thinking about getting a horse or two.”
“No, no animals. They sell it. Any way, I took my stat exam Friday morning and by noon we're heading south. His daddy's place is about an hour and a half. By two in the afternoon, I was sweating in a field hooking bales up into a stake truck. Dude! That's HARD WORK! You prop one end on your hip and pull the bale up by the wire and hope the dude in the truck grabs it before the wire cuts your hand. I barely remember dinner and went to bed exhausted. I didn't even mind when Rayner said we had to stay in separate beds, because his parents room was just one thin wall away. The next day it was the same. We worked all morning and were done by mid afternoon. We both took a little nap, which was so good, magic, really. By dinner time, I felt showered and rested and the food – I wouldn't have cared what it was – but his momma's actually a good cook. And we had some local wine that his daddy said was made from blueberries. Pretty good! Not great, but pretty good. We all watched some old family videos and then went to bed. Again, those sheets never looked so good. But just as I was falling asleep, Rayner crawled in with me. 'I can't spend another night alone,' he says. Trying to be as quiet as possible we messed around. Now, Buddy, I know I was totally silent. No signs, groans, no nothing! But Rayner was … uh, less quiet and at the end he says 'What a fuck!' way too loud. I shushed him and he just giggled. Then we slept. Breakfast was ok, but his daddy kept eyeing me. After we packed the car and were ready to leave. Rayner forgot something and went back to the house. His daddy came up to me and, looking like a BEAR, says, 'Are you fucking my boy?' “
“Jeez, Euie!” Buddy looked as panicked as I felt getting the question.
“ 'I said, ARE YOU FUCKIN' MY BOY?' he yelled at me. I muttered, 'Yes, sir.' 'WHAT?' he demanded. 'Yes, sir, I am.' I thought he was gonna kill me. He clenched his fists … you know what a farmer's fists look like? Monsters! But he didn't. He calmed down and said, 'Don't hurt him.' I sputtered something. 'Just don't hurt him,' he repeated. “No, sir, I won't,' I promised and me at the same time wondering if the Tuesday tears constituted 'hurting him'. Rayner busted up the little talk and we drove away. I didn't breathe easy until we were two miles out the gate. I told Rayner what happened and he said, “Yeah, the stare! My brothers and I grew up in fear of it, but he never laid a hand on us. He's a pretty good dad actually. I'll talk to him.' 'Rayner, dude,' I said, 'Just what are you going to tell him.' And Rayner says, Buddy I swear this is true, Rayner says, 'I'm going to tell him I love you.' “
“My God! Euie!”
“I know! I said to him, 'Don't you think you should tell me first?' and he says, “I'm scared.' Of me???? 'No, not of you, I'm scared of loving you.' And with that he pulls off the road, drives into some trees and parks. 'I want to take some apples back to school,' he says and he starts getting undressed. 'The trees are full of sap,' is his explanation. He climbed a tree in his underwear saying it was one of his daddy's orchards and the pickers always left a few apples. 'Hold out your shirt,' he said and the next thing a two pound apple landed in it. Then another and another. He switched to another tree and got three or four more. Then he came down with one in his underwear. He pulled it out and held it up for me. Man, it was the sweetest thing! And then he took a bite out of it and we stood chewing and grinning like hillbilly idiots. And then he kissed me and the kiss was as sweet as the apple. And then without a word he took my clothes off and … it was way different. He was the boss. This kid, last week's virgin, fucked me like a pro. I said how'd you get so good? And he said it was automatic. He just did what he thought I'd like him to do.”
“Euie!”
“I know! Twice! There I was! All out of breath lying naked in an apple orchard. No lube but spit. Cum all over me. And then, his dick was still in me, he said, 'I want to be naked with you always. I love you.' I swear I thought he was gonna fuck me again. But the sun was going down and he didn't.“
“God, I'm glad I'm not you. I'm glad I know you, but I don't want to be you.” Buddy laughed and then laughed again. “I'm so glad I have freaky friends.”
“So … we get back to school and he's back to normal. My turn to top. His roommate got back right after we were done. He complained about the room smelling of cum and it being too cold to open the windows. And Rayner said to him, 'You love it.' And his roommate picked up a couple books, said to me, 'Good luck,' and left again. The semester was gonna end on Wednesday and I asked about Christmas. He said, 'Oh sorry, we always take a cruise, the whole family, for Christmas.' So that's how it ended. He loves me and fucks me silly and I'm starting to think maybe he's alright, too, and then – poof - he's gone for two weeks.”
Buddy shook his head. “Only you, Euie. So … how'd you do on the stat test?”
“A minus. He taught me every problem almost exactly as it appeared on the test. Like he had a copy in advance or something.”
“Well, with Rayner gone, what are you doin' for Christmas? Want to come stay with us for a couple days?”
“I was thinking about working a few parties with Cary, but, although I could use the money, that might be a problem ... You're needin' company?”
“Tommy Lynn doesn't want to do anything. We have invitations to stuff, but he doesn't want to go. He seems reasonably happy but the office will be closed down and I can't do all the talkin' for weeks on end.”
“It won't be weeks. We'll all be there in between the holidays closing out the year.”
“You will? Oh thank God. I gotta learn more about the business. And then there's this kid. Hollis. I don't even know how old he is ... Twelve or something? He's coming on to Tommy and when that doesn't work, he'll settle for me, he says … And then George gets all pissed off ...”
“Uh, just so you know, Buddy, I think George has a little thing for the kid. Richard said ...”
“Richard said the kid is a slut! That's what Richard said – like he's all pissed off about it, too. I never thought I'd hear Richard, of all people, criticize somebody for sleeping around!”
“Not much sleepin' goes on, from what I hear. The kid's a pistol. Hot looking, too. I know I'd have trouble saying no.”
Buddy smiled at me. “Are we havin' fun, Euie?”
He caught me by surprise; I wanted to hug him. “I am. I hope you are. You're an awfully good friend, Buddy.”
“Merry Christmas, Euie. Good luck with Rayner.” He shook and then held my hand for an instant before left the bar.
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I will admit that I've long lost track of who is who. 
That is NOT because of your writing as much as it's likely my age!](/images/smilies/bang.gif "Brick wall ](*,)")
I thoroughly enjoying reading this, though!
MORE, Please!
Chaz
That is NOT because of your writing as much as it's likely my age!
I thoroughly enjoying reading this, though!
MORE, Please!
Chaz
EasyRory
JUB Addict
I will admit that I've long lost track of who is who.
That's my fault because the chapters are coming more slowly. Maybe I should save them up and post a bunch at once. Mmm, no, that won't work either. I write best in the morning and my mornings aren't as free as they used to be.
And I'm caught up - where do I sign up for the Va good ol' gay boyz club?!
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Twenty-Eight - Brandon
I'm glad we hired Lonnie. He's a good worker and knows how to keep his mouth shut. Except for telling me about Eddie, of course; but in that case he had cause. He keeps his mouth shut about me. I guess that's what I like. Not that there's much to say about me. I do stupid stuff now and again, but so does everybody. Except, for the business with Vertical Sandra. Man, what was I thinking!
“You look happy? Get lucky last night?” Lonnie asked when I picked him up for work.
“Is it that obvious?” I think my grin must have been splitting my face.
“Yes,” he answered, chuckling himself. “Sandra?”
“Who else?”
“You getting serious about her? This is a while now you've been seein' her.”
“Or not seeing her ...” Oops, should have kept my mouth shut; now I had to explain. “See, the reason she's called Vertical Sandra is she likes it standing up. In fact she insists on doing it that way and wearing this little black slip. You know me … I'm a visual person. Landscapes, right? Bodyscapes, too. I like seeing the goods. And kind of I like it lying down. Burns up less energy on the non-essential stuff like keeping your balance and getting the right leverage. Gay guys have to worry about that, too, right?”
“As best I remember, yes.”
Poor Lonnie, I don't think he was getting laid at all; but he never wanted to talk much about his version of sex. Aside from Eddie and the blowjob, I have no idea what he likes at all. Which is ok. I shouldn't even be thinking about that. Things are confusing enough.
“Like I called her Buddy last night. Did I tell you she looks amazingly like Buddy Lynn?”
“You did.”
“Well, she does! They could be twins, from the neck up, 'cept for the lipstick.”
How did she like being called Buddy?”
“I passed it off as buddy-sex. We were having buddy-sex. That sounds a little kinky, she said. No, I told her, it's just comfortable, no drama sex. Like with you and me. I mean me and her,” I quickly corrected myself.
“I got your meaning.” Lonnie looked straight ahead, totally cool.
Lonnie was pretty cool about everything. He never assumed … I mean why would he? I couldn't have been talking about me and HIM. There was no possibility of that. Still, messing up with Vertical Sandra. That was something else. I really WAS thinking about Buddy. I was holding her from the back, like always, looking at that black slip covering her ass. She bent forward to let me in and the slip rode up some, giving me a pretty nice view of her cheeks. Tight, firm, no jiggle. Pretty sight. Made me cum. It was while I was cumming I called her Buddy. The vision just popped into my head. Like it was HIS ass, or something. I sighed out loud, “Buddy.” I didn't even know I said it until she said why you calling me Buddy?
We turned into the Lynn place and drove down the long roadway to Buddy's house.
“Be nice to get some business from the big house,” Lonnie commented. “Who lives there?”
“Dunno. Buddy said the dude is some kind of business partner with Tommy Lynn.”
“We could do a lot to make that barn look better. Like a Constable painting.”
“Who?” Every now and then Lonnie would remind me that I didn't know much.
“English dude, painted cows and stuff. He made totally fake landscapes look natural. Actually I guess the guys in England like you did the brilliant landscape work. Constable just painted it.”
“You calling me brilliant?” I made it sound like an accusation.
“Bet your ass, Brandon. You're a genius as seeing what could be. Pile up dirt here, move that rock, toss in some gravel. And it looks like nature did it, except it's better looking than nature. You see all that stuff. I don't.” He smiled. I smiled. It was one of those moments. I told Vertical Sandra about it that night.
“You two boys havin' a 'bromance' or something?”
“Careful, Sandra. He's gay. It's nothing like that.”
“I know a few gay boys. They're fun. Lots of laughs and no complications. Course, they never call me 'Buddy'. They don't call me Sandra, either. they call me S-au-ndra, like it's a special name.” Hmm, she brought up the 'Buddy' thing. That gave me a start.
“S-au-ndra,” I teased. “Have you ever considered the pleasures of love lying down?” She froze.
“What do you mean?”
“The awesome pleasure of long and slow love-makin' on the bed. Stretching, tensing, relaxing, touching ...” I traced the side of her face with two fingers. Her brow wrinkled, the way Buddy's did when he was thinking hard.
“Well … Ok, I guess ... but it has to be in total darkness.”
“You're beautiful. Why total darkness?”
“TOTAL DARKNESS!”
It's harder in total darkness. A lot harder. Even getting undressed was trouble. I stubbed a toe and sat down hard on the floor, nearly getting' splinters in my butt. She just laughed. Kind of spoiled the moment for a bit. Eventually we got into the narrow bed and were starting to get the juices flowing. It was pretty awesome. She has a nice taut body, just big enough here and there, more than soft enough. She also gets pretty wet. Makes a man feel nice, slippin' and slidin' around. Listening to her breathing, knowin' when he's doing it right. Exactly right! I figured she was right on the edge. I wanted her to see me. I wanted to see her. I turned the bedside light on and expected a scene of beauty we could both enjoy.
“JESUS!!!! WHAT'S THAT!!!”
She instantly turned the light off. I turned it on again.
“MY GOD! IT'S GOT TEETH!!!”
She knocked the lamp to the floor and broke it. I heard an electrical sizzle as the brightness died.
“You asshole,” she said. “You had to ruin it.” She was right. The mood was destroyed. My dick went from near explosion to stone cold and shrunk up in five seconds total elapsed time. I felt a drop of wasted wetness dribble onto my leg.
“It's an ANIMAL!”
“It's a tattoo, dumbfuck.”
“Scared the SHIT out of me.”
“I hope you're exaggerating. I don't want to be washin' sheets tonight.” She got up and I listened to her grope around for her robe. She turned on the surviving lamp. “Get dressed,” she said and went into the bathroom. “Don't step on any glass,” I heard through the door. Her parting words were, “Be gone 'fore I'm outta here, Buddy.” There was a twinge of nastiness attached to the Buddy.
So the next morning I was looking for a little sympathy and all Lonnie did was laugh his ass off. I tried to explain how harrowing it was and all he did was laugh more. “It had FANGS for God sake.” He laughed harder.
“Brandon, you make me so glad I'm not straight,” he said, wiping his eyes. “I don't know how the human race survives with straight guys responsible for procreation.”
I parked the truck. Buddy came out to meet us. “What's so funny?” he asked Lonnie. “I could use a laugh.”
“Ask Brandon,” Lonnie said shaking his head.
“Brandon?”
“Well, S ...” I nearly called him Sandra. Lonnie just laughed.
I'm glad we hired Lonnie. He's a good worker and knows how to keep his mouth shut. Except for telling me about Eddie, of course; but in that case he had cause. He keeps his mouth shut about me. I guess that's what I like. Not that there's much to say about me. I do stupid stuff now and again, but so does everybody. Except, for the business with Vertical Sandra. Man, what was I thinking!
“You look happy? Get lucky last night?” Lonnie asked when I picked him up for work.
“Is it that obvious?” I think my grin must have been splitting my face.
“Yes,” he answered, chuckling himself. “Sandra?”
“Who else?”
“You getting serious about her? This is a while now you've been seein' her.”
“Or not seeing her ...” Oops, should have kept my mouth shut; now I had to explain. “See, the reason she's called Vertical Sandra is she likes it standing up. In fact she insists on doing it that way and wearing this little black slip. You know me … I'm a visual person. Landscapes, right? Bodyscapes, too. I like seeing the goods. And kind of I like it lying down. Burns up less energy on the non-essential stuff like keeping your balance and getting the right leverage. Gay guys have to worry about that, too, right?”
“As best I remember, yes.”
Poor Lonnie, I don't think he was getting laid at all; but he never wanted to talk much about his version of sex. Aside from Eddie and the blowjob, I have no idea what he likes at all. Which is ok. I shouldn't even be thinking about that. Things are confusing enough.
“Like I called her Buddy last night. Did I tell you she looks amazingly like Buddy Lynn?”
“You did.”
“Well, she does! They could be twins, from the neck up, 'cept for the lipstick.”
How did she like being called Buddy?”
“I passed it off as buddy-sex. We were having buddy-sex. That sounds a little kinky, she said. No, I told her, it's just comfortable, no drama sex. Like with you and me. I mean me and her,” I quickly corrected myself.
“I got your meaning.” Lonnie looked straight ahead, totally cool.
Lonnie was pretty cool about everything. He never assumed … I mean why would he? I couldn't have been talking about me and HIM. There was no possibility of that. Still, messing up with Vertical Sandra. That was something else. I really WAS thinking about Buddy. I was holding her from the back, like always, looking at that black slip covering her ass. She bent forward to let me in and the slip rode up some, giving me a pretty nice view of her cheeks. Tight, firm, no jiggle. Pretty sight. Made me cum. It was while I was cumming I called her Buddy. The vision just popped into my head. Like it was HIS ass, or something. I sighed out loud, “Buddy.” I didn't even know I said it until she said why you calling me Buddy?
We turned into the Lynn place and drove down the long roadway to Buddy's house.
“Be nice to get some business from the big house,” Lonnie commented. “Who lives there?”
“Dunno. Buddy said the dude is some kind of business partner with Tommy Lynn.”
“We could do a lot to make that barn look better. Like a Constable painting.”
“Who?” Every now and then Lonnie would remind me that I didn't know much.
“English dude, painted cows and stuff. He made totally fake landscapes look natural. Actually I guess the guys in England like you did the brilliant landscape work. Constable just painted it.”
“You calling me brilliant?” I made it sound like an accusation.
“Bet your ass, Brandon. You're a genius as seeing what could be. Pile up dirt here, move that rock, toss in some gravel. And it looks like nature did it, except it's better looking than nature. You see all that stuff. I don't.” He smiled. I smiled. It was one of those moments. I told Vertical Sandra about it that night.
“You two boys havin' a 'bromance' or something?”
“Careful, Sandra. He's gay. It's nothing like that.”
“I know a few gay boys. They're fun. Lots of laughs and no complications. Course, they never call me 'Buddy'. They don't call me Sandra, either. they call me S-au-ndra, like it's a special name.” Hmm, she brought up the 'Buddy' thing. That gave me a start.
“S-au-ndra,” I teased. “Have you ever considered the pleasures of love lying down?” She froze.
“What do you mean?”
“The awesome pleasure of long and slow love-makin' on the bed. Stretching, tensing, relaxing, touching ...” I traced the side of her face with two fingers. Her brow wrinkled, the way Buddy's did when he was thinking hard.
“Well … Ok, I guess ... but it has to be in total darkness.”
“You're beautiful. Why total darkness?”
“TOTAL DARKNESS!”
It's harder in total darkness. A lot harder. Even getting undressed was trouble. I stubbed a toe and sat down hard on the floor, nearly getting' splinters in my butt. She just laughed. Kind of spoiled the moment for a bit. Eventually we got into the narrow bed and were starting to get the juices flowing. It was pretty awesome. She has a nice taut body, just big enough here and there, more than soft enough. She also gets pretty wet. Makes a man feel nice, slippin' and slidin' around. Listening to her breathing, knowin' when he's doing it right. Exactly right! I figured she was right on the edge. I wanted her to see me. I wanted to see her. I turned the bedside light on and expected a scene of beauty we could both enjoy.
“JESUS!!!! WHAT'S THAT!!!”
She instantly turned the light off. I turned it on again.
“MY GOD! IT'S GOT TEETH!!!”
She knocked the lamp to the floor and broke it. I heard an electrical sizzle as the brightness died.
“You asshole,” she said. “You had to ruin it.” She was right. The mood was destroyed. My dick went from near explosion to stone cold and shrunk up in five seconds total elapsed time. I felt a drop of wasted wetness dribble onto my leg.
“It's an ANIMAL!”
“It's a tattoo, dumbfuck.”
“Scared the SHIT out of me.”
“I hope you're exaggerating. I don't want to be washin' sheets tonight.” She got up and I listened to her grope around for her robe. She turned on the surviving lamp. “Get dressed,” she said and went into the bathroom. “Don't step on any glass,” I heard through the door. Her parting words were, “Be gone 'fore I'm outta here, Buddy.” There was a twinge of nastiness attached to the Buddy.
So the next morning I was looking for a little sympathy and all Lonnie did was laugh his ass off. I tried to explain how harrowing it was and all he did was laugh more. “It had FANGS for God sake.” He laughed harder.
“Brandon, you make me so glad I'm not straight,” he said, wiping his eyes. “I don't know how the human race survives with straight guys responsible for procreation.”
I parked the truck. Buddy came out to meet us. “What's so funny?” he asked Lonnie. “I could use a laugh.”
“Ask Brandon,” Lonnie said shaking his head.
“Brandon?”
“Well, S ...” I nearly called him Sandra. Lonnie just laughed.
Oh, yeah, this is worth more than a couple of chuckles.
No wonder she wanted to be dressed - HER fantasy included the beast devouring her partners while they had no clue...
No wonder she wanted to be dressed - HER fantasy included the beast devouring her partners while they had no clue...
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Twenty-Nine - Hollis
“No doubt about it, Hollis Ellis Harrison was the virgin most eager to get fucked in the history of my high school,” I told Richard. “Why do you want to know?”
“I need a little background, Hollis, my dear. Professor Inglis I know about. I need more. I don't want you screwing over George.”
“That's ok with me. I like George, too, a lot, actually.”
“Uh-huh. I didn't say I like George; I said I don't want you screwing him over.”
“Isn't that the same thing?” Richard just stared at me like I couldn't ask an intelligent question. “Ok, how did I get so horny, you want to know. It was last Christmas. I wanted to get my mom something unusual and everything in Sperryville is real ordinary and Culpepper is no better. So I decided to go into Washington and try the Smithsonian gift shop which I liked when I took a field trip there once. I went with a couple other guys but we got separated and then I was stuck. I figured if I took the VRE to Broad Run, the end of the line, I could maybe hitch to Culpepper and get another ride from there. So I got the last train at six-fifty ...”
“Don't need the whole timetable,” Richard scowled.
“The train was cold. Something wrong with the heater. Another guy sat next to me. He said to take my coat off and use it like a blanket. So I did and that helped. A couple of stops later the train wasn't so crowded and I felt his hand brush up against mine under our coats. Sorry, he said, but he didn't take his hand away. Neither did I. The way he said sorry ... I knew he wasn't, you know? My dick got hard right away. Then he kind of squeezed my hand and said you don't mind, do you? And I said no. Then he put his hand over mine and said is this ok?”
“When did he grab your dick?” Richard asked.
“I'm getting' to that,” I told him. “Jeez, I like this story, Richard, I've jacked off thinking about it dozens of times. Yeah, so, then he moved both our hands over so he was up against my thigh, rubbin' the side a little. 'You like this?' he asked and I kind of squeaked yes.”
“Then he grabbed your dick?”
“No, then he said unzip your pants and take your dick out.”
“Which you did.”
“Bet your ass I did. THEN he wrapped his hand around me and slowly started jacking me off. Anybody who looked would have known what was going on, but by then there weren't many people in the car. It felt so good ...”
“Quit dreamin' about it and finish the story.”
“I started to come and he said, 'Roll to the side.' I did and shot against the wall of the car mostly. I only got a little on my coat. 'How'd you know I was coming?' I asked him. 'Practice,' he said and he smiled and whispered 'I wish I could fuck you.' ”
“A real romantic,” Richard sneered which pissed me off because the way the guy said it, it was romantic.
“Yeah, so he got off at the next stop and I never saw him again. But I needed more, you know?”
“Of course. So then you became the Slut of Sperryville?”
“I would have, but Sperryville is real small and my opportunities were limited to Tommy.”
“Ah, the plot thickens. Or does Tommy?”
“He was a little porky at the time. Not fat, just not in shape. Except he had a surprisingly nice dick which he kept well hidden in super baggy jeans. It took me weeks to get him out of them; but by spring of our senior year I finally got him to beat his meat with me. You know, one of those who-can-cum-first races? He always beat me, but he stuck around to watch me get off. That was encouraging. So one day he was getting close and I grabbed his dick and sucked him off ... Just about drowned when he shot ... Messy … Did I mention he has nice balls? Big, soft, but they really tighten up when he comes.” I paused, feeling a little tension in my dick. “It took a while to get him to suck me.”
“A while … Right … How long exactly?”
“About three days. Looking back, we were terrible cocksuckers. Messy. Wait. I already said that. Never swallowed. But at least doin' it was an excuse to get totally naked. 'Cept by the end of the summer I knew there had to be more. I asked Tommy if he ever played with his butt and he totally freaked. So I got to school in the fall READY TO LEARN.”
“And that was when Rayner introduced you to Professor Inglis?”
“What a fuckin' tease that was!” I shuddered to show my disappointment.
“Well, yes, Inglis has always been a tease. That's the point. But, you make much progress without putting out much effort.”
“No, not Inglis – Rayner. I had to give him a blowjob, you know, as a try out? So he could approve me moving on to Inglis. I asked about fuckin' and he turned me down.”
“Fuckin' Rayner! Such an operator. You know he's Euie's boyfriend, don't you? That's what Euie thinks!” Richard laughed. “So you're the third in the line of Inglis proteges. There was me, then Mac, then … well that one doesn't matter, then Rayner, then you. And with hundreds of straight but very appreciative students depending on you, YOU FUCKED IT UP. Explain that part.”
“I didn't fuck it up. I'm here – at Tommy Lynn's, no? So I didn't fuck it up, Richard.”
“You were recommended to Tommy Lynn BEFORE you fucked it up. What I want to know is WHY won't Inglis talk to any of us? Which means all those hundreds of guys who would have been so APPRECIATIVE have to actually study to pass his worthless course.”
“Thanksgiving ...” I started to explain.
“Is this going to be another chapter of 'Hollis does Harrisonburg'?”
“I'll make it short. The first day of the vacation, Wednesday, I went to see Tommy. He didn't go to school. He went to DC to learn to be a fitness coach. So I went ot his house and wow! The dude had changed totally. He was fit. He had a new haircut. He was HOT!”
“Awesome progress. What's this got to do with ...”
“We watched the tube a little and then played Battle Dark on his Xbox. It got late and we were still playing. 'You want to stay over?' he asked me. Wow! Fuck, yes! Of course I didn't say that! I was cool about it. We played some more and finally decided to sleep. We got in the twin beds in his room and talked a little. I brought it up first. Told him I liked what we did last summer. He didn't say anything; he just got up and walked to the window. He was standing in the moonlight, in his briefs, looking at something. 'Come here. Look at this,' he said. I walked to the window and he pointed at a small building in the distance with sparks coming out of it. 'Blacksmith working late?' I suggested and turned to look at him. He was looking at me. He didn't say anything at first. He came closer. Our bulges touched. He bumped up against me, rubbing our underwear together. Then … this is gonna sound corny, but it was the biggest single moment in my life. He kissed me. And he didn't stop at kissing. His hands were all over me. In my underwear. He took me back to bed and … it was so smooth, I didn't know what was happening, except I liked it. He fucked me. I never even noticed where the lube came from, but suddenly I was slick, he was slick, and he put it in me.”
“Aw, sweet. You came simultaneously and lived happily ever after.” Richard was impatient with my story.
“No, it hurt. But it didn't hurt bad and he kept kissing me. 'Ok?' he kept asking as he fucked me deeper. I came.”
“You came from fucking the first time you ever did it?” Richard didn't believe me. “Nobody does that.”
“I didn't come because he was fucking me. I think I came because he was kissing me. I never felt so good before in my life.”
“What's this got to do with Inglis?”
“I'm getting there. After he came we spooned and maybe slept a little, and then he fucked me again. From behind. And in the morning. Again. Thursday we were with our families for the holiday and all but by Friday I was about to explode. He came to my house for the night and Saturday I went to his house again. So by Sunday morning I'd been fucked about a half dozen times and I couldn't imagine anything better until that last morning he said, 'Your turn.' It was awesome. I still like taking it better than giving it, but it was Tommy! I couldn't believe this super hot guy was letting me do it to him!”
“OH shit. You're in love,” concluded Richard with disgust.
“No, but it could go in that direction ... maybe. So I got back to school and Inglis wanted to play his naughty boy fantasy, and I went along with it. And then he said I needed a bath and I went along with it. And then he wanted to dress me up, and I'm thinking why am I playing these stupid games when we could be fucking? So I pinned him to the bed and fucked him. He didn't even fight me.”
“Inglis? You fucked Inglis?” Richard was astonished.
“I fucked him and his dick must have leaked a gallon of precum. Finally he beat off while I was wailing on his ass. And when we were both done he said, 'Get the hell out and never come back.' Like he's crying or something.”
“Shit,” Richard moaned. “You fucked the pooch. You ruined everything. Coming generations of young hillbillies will fail statistics and won't feel grateful to the gay guys who could steal the tests for them.”
“Steal tests? Is that what I was supposed to do?”
“Didn't Rayner tell you? Of course that's what you were supposed to do! You didn't think he was just fixing you up for grins, did you?”
“He told me it would get me a job at Tommy Lynn's. And it did.”
“Fuck!” Richard paced the office. “Fuck,” he repeated glaring at me. “I'll get your skinny white ass fired.”
A threat. I don't take well to threats and my ass isn't skinny. “No, you won't. George loves me.”
“No shit? Is George as sweet as your idol Tommy?” he asked in a treacly tone.
“No, but he'll do.”
“Oh, he'll love to hear that. 'Adequate, George, just adequate, That's what he thinks of you.' You'll be gone in a day.”
Richard left in a fury. I figured he might be right after all. George didn't actually love me, it was more like he liked me. He definitely liked fucking me. And it wasn't much of a price to pay; George was a pretty good fuck. Plus I really wanted the internship. Kind of needed it, too. The stipend mattered more now that Inglis wouldn't be padding my wallet.
I finished up the account updates I was doing and got ready to leave. I tried to tiptoe past George's office but he heard me. “Hollis? You have a minute?” he called out after me.
“Yeah, George?”
“Do you really think I love you?” he asked. He was laughing as he said it.
“No, but Richard pissed me off. He said he'd get me fired.”
“You work for me.” I nodded in acknowledgment. “If anybody fires you, I'll fire you.”
“Yes, George.”
“You could probably talk me out of it if you weren't wearing so many clothes.”
I got the hint and shed my clothes faster than George shed his. We were both eager. He's got a way of holding my butt in his hands that really turns me on. I came before he did, but he wasn't far behind. Richard caught us relaxing in the afterglow.
“Aw, for fuck sake!” he growled as he walked out of the offices.
George laughed. “Hollis, you do good work for a beginner,” he said which sounded like faint praise.
“Uh … what do you mean? You want to try doing it doggy?” I was willing. It was the only position we hadn't tried.
George laughed again. “No, I mean you do good work here in the office. If you get tired of doing me, you'll still have the accounts to work on. You don't owe me anything.”
Feminist theory says that George is in a power position over me. It's essentially rape, what he's doing to me, no matter what I say. I can't actually give my free consent to it because he's the boss. It doesn't matter how much I want it or like it. It's abuse. I'm a victim. The barrier is insurmountable; the river uncrossable; consent is impossible.
“George?” I nibbled on his nipple. Little stinging bites. He likes that. “You up for a second time?” It turned out he wasn't. “If you want, I could go home with you and maybe later ...”
“My place is a dump. Nobody has ever been there.”
“I don't mind, Gio. I'm not planning to make love to the furniture.” He likes me calling him Gio, thinks it's hot.
“There you go with that 'love' word again, Hollis.”
“Do I have to beg?” I hated begging with Inglis; it was creepy, demeaning. With George it was fun. I made a frowny face and licked the nipple I had been teasing. He took me home. He made the bed, he made a little dinner, and he made me very happy. I sleep much better after sex. And just like with Tommy, I fucked him in the morning. Tommy's hotter, but George is good enough for now.
“No doubt about it, Hollis Ellis Harrison was the virgin most eager to get fucked in the history of my high school,” I told Richard. “Why do you want to know?”
“I need a little background, Hollis, my dear. Professor Inglis I know about. I need more. I don't want you screwing over George.”
“That's ok with me. I like George, too, a lot, actually.”
“Uh-huh. I didn't say I like George; I said I don't want you screwing him over.”
“Isn't that the same thing?” Richard just stared at me like I couldn't ask an intelligent question. “Ok, how did I get so horny, you want to know. It was last Christmas. I wanted to get my mom something unusual and everything in Sperryville is real ordinary and Culpepper is no better. So I decided to go into Washington and try the Smithsonian gift shop which I liked when I took a field trip there once. I went with a couple other guys but we got separated and then I was stuck. I figured if I took the VRE to Broad Run, the end of the line, I could maybe hitch to Culpepper and get another ride from there. So I got the last train at six-fifty ...”
“Don't need the whole timetable,” Richard scowled.
“The train was cold. Something wrong with the heater. Another guy sat next to me. He said to take my coat off and use it like a blanket. So I did and that helped. A couple of stops later the train wasn't so crowded and I felt his hand brush up against mine under our coats. Sorry, he said, but he didn't take his hand away. Neither did I. The way he said sorry ... I knew he wasn't, you know? My dick got hard right away. Then he kind of squeezed my hand and said you don't mind, do you? And I said no. Then he put his hand over mine and said is this ok?”
“When did he grab your dick?” Richard asked.
“I'm getting' to that,” I told him. “Jeez, I like this story, Richard, I've jacked off thinking about it dozens of times. Yeah, so, then he moved both our hands over so he was up against my thigh, rubbin' the side a little. 'You like this?' he asked and I kind of squeaked yes.”
“Then he grabbed your dick?”
“No, then he said unzip your pants and take your dick out.”
“Which you did.”
“Bet your ass I did. THEN he wrapped his hand around me and slowly started jacking me off. Anybody who looked would have known what was going on, but by then there weren't many people in the car. It felt so good ...”
“Quit dreamin' about it and finish the story.”
“I started to come and he said, 'Roll to the side.' I did and shot against the wall of the car mostly. I only got a little on my coat. 'How'd you know I was coming?' I asked him. 'Practice,' he said and he smiled and whispered 'I wish I could fuck you.' ”
“A real romantic,” Richard sneered which pissed me off because the way the guy said it, it was romantic.
“Yeah, so he got off at the next stop and I never saw him again. But I needed more, you know?”
“Of course. So then you became the Slut of Sperryville?”
“I would have, but Sperryville is real small and my opportunities were limited to Tommy.”
“Ah, the plot thickens. Or does Tommy?”
“He was a little porky at the time. Not fat, just not in shape. Except he had a surprisingly nice dick which he kept well hidden in super baggy jeans. It took me weeks to get him out of them; but by spring of our senior year I finally got him to beat his meat with me. You know, one of those who-can-cum-first races? He always beat me, but he stuck around to watch me get off. That was encouraging. So one day he was getting close and I grabbed his dick and sucked him off ... Just about drowned when he shot ... Messy … Did I mention he has nice balls? Big, soft, but they really tighten up when he comes.” I paused, feeling a little tension in my dick. “It took a while to get him to suck me.”
“A while … Right … How long exactly?”
“About three days. Looking back, we were terrible cocksuckers. Messy. Wait. I already said that. Never swallowed. But at least doin' it was an excuse to get totally naked. 'Cept by the end of the summer I knew there had to be more. I asked Tommy if he ever played with his butt and he totally freaked. So I got to school in the fall READY TO LEARN.”
“And that was when Rayner introduced you to Professor Inglis?”
“What a fuckin' tease that was!” I shuddered to show my disappointment.
“Well, yes, Inglis has always been a tease. That's the point. But, you make much progress without putting out much effort.”
“No, not Inglis – Rayner. I had to give him a blowjob, you know, as a try out? So he could approve me moving on to Inglis. I asked about fuckin' and he turned me down.”
“Fuckin' Rayner! Such an operator. You know he's Euie's boyfriend, don't you? That's what Euie thinks!” Richard laughed. “So you're the third in the line of Inglis proteges. There was me, then Mac, then … well that one doesn't matter, then Rayner, then you. And with hundreds of straight but very appreciative students depending on you, YOU FUCKED IT UP. Explain that part.”
“I didn't fuck it up. I'm here – at Tommy Lynn's, no? So I didn't fuck it up, Richard.”
“You were recommended to Tommy Lynn BEFORE you fucked it up. What I want to know is WHY won't Inglis talk to any of us? Which means all those hundreds of guys who would have been so APPRECIATIVE have to actually study to pass his worthless course.”
“Thanksgiving ...” I started to explain.
“Is this going to be another chapter of 'Hollis does Harrisonburg'?”
“I'll make it short. The first day of the vacation, Wednesday, I went to see Tommy. He didn't go to school. He went to DC to learn to be a fitness coach. So I went ot his house and wow! The dude had changed totally. He was fit. He had a new haircut. He was HOT!”
“Awesome progress. What's this got to do with ...”
“We watched the tube a little and then played Battle Dark on his Xbox. It got late and we were still playing. 'You want to stay over?' he asked me. Wow! Fuck, yes! Of course I didn't say that! I was cool about it. We played some more and finally decided to sleep. We got in the twin beds in his room and talked a little. I brought it up first. Told him I liked what we did last summer. He didn't say anything; he just got up and walked to the window. He was standing in the moonlight, in his briefs, looking at something. 'Come here. Look at this,' he said. I walked to the window and he pointed at a small building in the distance with sparks coming out of it. 'Blacksmith working late?' I suggested and turned to look at him. He was looking at me. He didn't say anything at first. He came closer. Our bulges touched. He bumped up against me, rubbing our underwear together. Then … this is gonna sound corny, but it was the biggest single moment in my life. He kissed me. And he didn't stop at kissing. His hands were all over me. In my underwear. He took me back to bed and … it was so smooth, I didn't know what was happening, except I liked it. He fucked me. I never even noticed where the lube came from, but suddenly I was slick, he was slick, and he put it in me.”
“Aw, sweet. You came simultaneously and lived happily ever after.” Richard was impatient with my story.
“No, it hurt. But it didn't hurt bad and he kept kissing me. 'Ok?' he kept asking as he fucked me deeper. I came.”
“You came from fucking the first time you ever did it?” Richard didn't believe me. “Nobody does that.”
“I didn't come because he was fucking me. I think I came because he was kissing me. I never felt so good before in my life.”
“What's this got to do with Inglis?”
“I'm getting there. After he came we spooned and maybe slept a little, and then he fucked me again. From behind. And in the morning. Again. Thursday we were with our families for the holiday and all but by Friday I was about to explode. He came to my house for the night and Saturday I went to his house again. So by Sunday morning I'd been fucked about a half dozen times and I couldn't imagine anything better until that last morning he said, 'Your turn.' It was awesome. I still like taking it better than giving it, but it was Tommy! I couldn't believe this super hot guy was letting me do it to him!”
“OH shit. You're in love,” concluded Richard with disgust.
“No, but it could go in that direction ... maybe. So I got back to school and Inglis wanted to play his naughty boy fantasy, and I went along with it. And then he said I needed a bath and I went along with it. And then he wanted to dress me up, and I'm thinking why am I playing these stupid games when we could be fucking? So I pinned him to the bed and fucked him. He didn't even fight me.”
“Inglis? You fucked Inglis?” Richard was astonished.
“I fucked him and his dick must have leaked a gallon of precum. Finally he beat off while I was wailing on his ass. And when we were both done he said, 'Get the hell out and never come back.' Like he's crying or something.”
“Shit,” Richard moaned. “You fucked the pooch. You ruined everything. Coming generations of young hillbillies will fail statistics and won't feel grateful to the gay guys who could steal the tests for them.”
“Steal tests? Is that what I was supposed to do?”
“Didn't Rayner tell you? Of course that's what you were supposed to do! You didn't think he was just fixing you up for grins, did you?”
“He told me it would get me a job at Tommy Lynn's. And it did.”
“Fuck!” Richard paced the office. “Fuck,” he repeated glaring at me. “I'll get your skinny white ass fired.”
A threat. I don't take well to threats and my ass isn't skinny. “No, you won't. George loves me.”
“No shit? Is George as sweet as your idol Tommy?” he asked in a treacly tone.
“No, but he'll do.”
“Oh, he'll love to hear that. 'Adequate, George, just adequate, That's what he thinks of you.' You'll be gone in a day.”
Richard left in a fury. I figured he might be right after all. George didn't actually love me, it was more like he liked me. He definitely liked fucking me. And it wasn't much of a price to pay; George was a pretty good fuck. Plus I really wanted the internship. Kind of needed it, too. The stipend mattered more now that Inglis wouldn't be padding my wallet.
I finished up the account updates I was doing and got ready to leave. I tried to tiptoe past George's office but he heard me. “Hollis? You have a minute?” he called out after me.
“Yeah, George?”
“Do you really think I love you?” he asked. He was laughing as he said it.
“No, but Richard pissed me off. He said he'd get me fired.”
“You work for me.” I nodded in acknowledgment. “If anybody fires you, I'll fire you.”
“Yes, George.”
“You could probably talk me out of it if you weren't wearing so many clothes.”
I got the hint and shed my clothes faster than George shed his. We were both eager. He's got a way of holding my butt in his hands that really turns me on. I came before he did, but he wasn't far behind. Richard caught us relaxing in the afterglow.
“Aw, for fuck sake!” he growled as he walked out of the offices.
George laughed. “Hollis, you do good work for a beginner,” he said which sounded like faint praise.
“Uh … what do you mean? You want to try doing it doggy?” I was willing. It was the only position we hadn't tried.
George laughed again. “No, I mean you do good work here in the office. If you get tired of doing me, you'll still have the accounts to work on. You don't owe me anything.”
Feminist theory says that George is in a power position over me. It's essentially rape, what he's doing to me, no matter what I say. I can't actually give my free consent to it because he's the boss. It doesn't matter how much I want it or like it. It's abuse. I'm a victim. The barrier is insurmountable; the river uncrossable; consent is impossible.
“George?” I nibbled on his nipple. Little stinging bites. He likes that. “You up for a second time?” It turned out he wasn't. “If you want, I could go home with you and maybe later ...”
“My place is a dump. Nobody has ever been there.”
“I don't mind, Gio. I'm not planning to make love to the furniture.” He likes me calling him Gio, thinks it's hot.
“There you go with that 'love' word again, Hollis.”
“Do I have to beg?” I hated begging with Inglis; it was creepy, demeaning. With George it was fun. I made a frowny face and licked the nipple I had been teasing. He took me home. He made the bed, he made a little dinner, and he made me very happy. I sleep much better after sex. And just like with Tommy, I fucked him in the morning. Tommy's hotter, but George is good enough for now.
I have GOT to join this club.
A sensual, sexy, hot read, Rory.
Thanks.
A sensual, sexy, hot read, Rory.
Thanks.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Thirty - Lonnie
Life post-prison hasn't been all that great, but it's comin' along. Slowly. Small victories. Incremental gains. My money's ok, I guess, as long as I don't want to buy anything. Mrs. Lucketts has reduced my rent a little, “Until better times,” she says. And I get lunch at work. So basically that leaves dinner and work clothes; I can afford that much and an occasional beer.
Eddie the cop? He remembers more than he says. I see him when Brandon and I go for the occasional beer. One time he whispered to me, “You doin' ok?” and I said yes. What was I supposed to say? He's never hinted at sex, though, never tried to resume our meetings. Which is kinda strange, because I don't think he's getting' any. My condition, sex-wise, is marginally better.
Pity fucks aren't that bad. Mac, from Tommy Lynn's place, he stops by maybe once a month or so. He's sweet. Always gives me my choice. Top or bottom. I usually top, which he likes, but maybe every third time I bottom for him. He likes that less; but he sincerely appreciates the chance, like I'm doing him a favor when he's totally doing ME the favor. He's a beautiful kisser; sometimes, if I didn't know better, I almost believe there's real feeling behind it. And every blue moon Vince from next door stops over. Now he is totally different, nothing like Mac in any way. He likes it a little rough. There's no mistaking you've been fucked when Vince is done. With Vince the thrill is a combination of coming and knowing it's over. Pleasure and relief. He always brings some take-out food and a six-pack, so I get fucked, fed, and left with a little buzz to sleep on.
Brandon. Now there's a basket case. We've never had sex or anything, not even a hint of anything like that except for discussing his fucked-up life. But still, I like talking to him even if there's no possibility … Well, you know - he's a sexy guy and he's free with the details. Like I've never seen him naked, but he tells me so much I bet I could tel you how big his dick is within a half-inch. And I know it arches up. And he trims his pubes. That's quite a few intimate details to know about a straight guy, least I think so. So even though there's nothing physical, I sense this sexual tension that's enjoyable and gets me a little chubby sometimes when I'm talkin' to him. Plus he is good looking and nicely put together. I try not to eyeball him too much, but you know how that goes, specially when he's sweaty and his shirt sticks to him.
And now and then totally random things happen. Sex with a stranger. Risky, I guess; but irresistible, too. I don't mean health risky; I always have a condom ready. I mean physically risky as in getting beat up or something. So with a little luck, I'm probably having sex three times a month. Not great, but not bad for my age and condition.
Speaking of condition, I'm probably fitter and trimmer than I've ever been. My body's not bad at all; I get admiring looks. My face, however, shows my age. It's like I got to thirty-five years old the hard way and just before I got there I got run over by a truck. “Not a pretty boy,” as Richard told me. He's a son of a bitch but at least he's honest. If he says you look like shit, you better believe him.
The strange thing, and I can't begin to explain, I have no desire to be a flasher anymore. Now that I have a body that might be worth flashin' around, zero urge. No need. No desire. No LOOK AT ME feelings. I think Mrs. Lucketts is the most disappointed. I'd always catch her lookin' out her window. She loved it when my towel would fall off or my pants fall down.
So here I am hoeing the rutabagas that will never mature, rutabagas doomed to freeze to death in about six weeks. Brandon says they and the rye grass will aerate the soil for the serious planting in the spring. I'm learning this stuff and better yet getting paid for it.
Here comes some kid. Where the hell did he come from. I thought I knew everybody here. Hope he doesn't want to talk. Yeah, good. Keep walkin', kid; keep movin' and let me finish. He stopped by a tree. Now what? He's just standing there half hidden.
“Dude, a little help?” he calls over his shoulder.
Fuck. I put my cultivator down and walked slightly uphill to where the tree is growing. He turns and he's the flasher. In broad daylight. Pants open and the goods hanging out. I try to ignore the obvious. “What?”
“I can't get the cum out of my dick.” He pauses and lets that comment hang in the air while still fingering what looks like a half-hardon. “You think you could help?”
God damn it. He looks thirteen. He's got this smirk on his face that says he's done this before. He holds his dick straight out with a confident expectation of getting the help he wants. He knows I'm gonna do it. I start to bend over.
“It's easier if you kneel.”
Fuck! I'm being ordered around by a kid. Nice dick, though. I kneel. And I gotta say I love suckin' cock. My mouth went dry at the first sight of his offer; now it's wet with anticipation. I'm sniffing the air for that scent of muskiness that says man meat. I come closer and he takes his hand away. His cock is inches away, bobbing slightly with his pulse. The smell comes. The velvet softness in my mouth. And then he thrusts. His hardness hits the back of my throat. He's got more to give me, but he holds back. I don't get all of it until he's ready and then he shoves it into my throat. He groans. I take it. His pelvis is grindin' against my face. I grab him by his jean-covered ass and pull him against me. He thrusts. I try to make him go faster. He's determined to go slower. He wins. I pull his balls out and hold them against my chin. He likes that. He goes deeper again. And then faster. He groans.
“Jeez, you got a hot mouth. Take it. Take it,” he whispers. I sense the muscles of his thighs tightening as he thrusts into my face. “I'm cummin'.”
I struggle to swallow and then to breath. He steadies himself against the tree, enjoying the last of his orgasm as his dick starts to wilt in my mouth.
“God damn! I knew you were a good cocksucker!” At least the kid is appreciative. “My turn,” he says, goin' for my fly. I almost panic.
“Wait!”
“No way. Lean back and enjoy.” Next thing I'm leaning back against the tree with my pants around my thighs and he's goin' to town. He pauses and looks up at me. “You are one hot dude.” He says it straight out, like he means it. He's good. He looks up at me again and grins with my cock in his mouth, like he's enjoyin' it. He makes “Mmmm” noises. He puts his fist into my balls, crushing them a little. No pain, just pressure. Fuck! I come. He swallows. He leaves my cock almost as clean as after a shower. He's still grinning as he stands.
“Uh ...” I don't know what to say.
“I like getting fucked on Thursdays,” he says. “It's a nice lead-in to the weekend.” He pats my cheek almost tenderly, winks, and walks away fastening his fly and arrangin' his clothes.
“Kid,” I call out. “What's your name?” He mumbles something I think I get right and keeps walkin'.
Whoa! Stuff like that doesn't happen to me. I mean it just doesn't. I'm dazed and confused and feel like a teenager who just had his first shot of great sex. Amazement!
I was still in a stupor when Brandon came back from the house. He was quiet, which suited me. I didn't feel like talking, I was busy replaying my session with the kid in my head - over and over. We finished and got in the truck.
“Lonnie … you're gay, right? I mean. I know you are, but ...” Uh-oh. Now what. “If I asked you to suck my dick, would you do it?”
“Brandon, you're my boss.”
“Forget I'm your boss. Would you do it? I'm not asking you to. I just want to know am I somebody that would appeal to you? Sexually?”
“Brandon … how can I answer that? I know you in a totally different way ...”
He fired questions at me. “Am I good looking?”
“Well, yes, but ...”
He didn't pause. “Do I have a good build?”
“Yes.”
Again. “Am I hot?”
“See, that's a hard one. I just never think of you that way.”
“You never met me. I come on to you. Would you do it?”
“I guess so.”
He wanted certainty. “Would you?”
“Yes, alright?”
“If I stop the truck right now, would you give me a blow job?” I hesitated. “Yes or no?”
“Yes.” I'm hoping he doesn't know how hot I actually think he is. Thank God he doesn't stop the truck.
“What's got into you?” I asked him. “You need to get laid.”
“I tried that!” he yelled and pounded the steering wheel. “I CAN'T GET IT UP!”
“Well, maybe you ...”
“Since Vertical Sandra, I can't get it up with a chick.” He sounds desperate. “Every time I try, I keep thinking of those fangs. I know it was just a tattoo, but SHIT! I can't get it out of my head! I'm scared to death of pussy!” He takes some deep breaths. “And last night AGAIN I dreamed ...” He pauses and looks me in the eye. “Last night I dreamed about sex with Buddy.” He almost sobbed. “I woke up cumming! I haven't had a wet dream since I was twelve.”
“Truth? I've never had one.” He didn't find that comforting, but it distracted him.
“Never? Really? I used to have 'em all the time.” He smiled to himself. “All I had to do was think about a girl before I went to sleep and whoosh! Time to change the sheets.” He laughed. “It used to piss my mother off. I remember one time she said she was going to tie a knot in my dick.”
“So maybe Vertical Sandra's tattoo isn't your only issue with women ...” As soon as I said that, I knew I should have kept my mouth shut.
“What? What?” His second what was much quieter than the first one. “You're thinking … what?”
“Nothing. What do I know? Nothing. Forget I said it.” That was like telling the jury to disregard a defendant's confession. Right. It's as good as forgotten. As if ... He gave me a look, but didn't push it.
“Met a kid named Horace today out back,” I announced to change the subject.
“Hollis,” Brandon corrected me. “He put the moves on Buddy. With me standing right there. I warned him off.”
“Did Buddy need your help?”
“Course not. I just didn't think he should have to bother.” Brandon sounded pissed and jealous. “Buddy was totally cool about it; I wish I could be that way.”
Oh, Brandon, what are you doing to yourself? I didn't tell him that, of course; but I thought it.
Life post-prison hasn't been all that great, but it's comin' along. Slowly. Small victories. Incremental gains. My money's ok, I guess, as long as I don't want to buy anything. Mrs. Lucketts has reduced my rent a little, “Until better times,” she says. And I get lunch at work. So basically that leaves dinner and work clothes; I can afford that much and an occasional beer.
Eddie the cop? He remembers more than he says. I see him when Brandon and I go for the occasional beer. One time he whispered to me, “You doin' ok?” and I said yes. What was I supposed to say? He's never hinted at sex, though, never tried to resume our meetings. Which is kinda strange, because I don't think he's getting' any. My condition, sex-wise, is marginally better.
Pity fucks aren't that bad. Mac, from Tommy Lynn's place, he stops by maybe once a month or so. He's sweet. Always gives me my choice. Top or bottom. I usually top, which he likes, but maybe every third time I bottom for him. He likes that less; but he sincerely appreciates the chance, like I'm doing him a favor when he's totally doing ME the favor. He's a beautiful kisser; sometimes, if I didn't know better, I almost believe there's real feeling behind it. And every blue moon Vince from next door stops over. Now he is totally different, nothing like Mac in any way. He likes it a little rough. There's no mistaking you've been fucked when Vince is done. With Vince the thrill is a combination of coming and knowing it's over. Pleasure and relief. He always brings some take-out food and a six-pack, so I get fucked, fed, and left with a little buzz to sleep on.
Brandon. Now there's a basket case. We've never had sex or anything, not even a hint of anything like that except for discussing his fucked-up life. But still, I like talking to him even if there's no possibility … Well, you know - he's a sexy guy and he's free with the details. Like I've never seen him naked, but he tells me so much I bet I could tel you how big his dick is within a half-inch. And I know it arches up. And he trims his pubes. That's quite a few intimate details to know about a straight guy, least I think so. So even though there's nothing physical, I sense this sexual tension that's enjoyable and gets me a little chubby sometimes when I'm talkin' to him. Plus he is good looking and nicely put together. I try not to eyeball him too much, but you know how that goes, specially when he's sweaty and his shirt sticks to him.
And now and then totally random things happen. Sex with a stranger. Risky, I guess; but irresistible, too. I don't mean health risky; I always have a condom ready. I mean physically risky as in getting beat up or something. So with a little luck, I'm probably having sex three times a month. Not great, but not bad for my age and condition.
Speaking of condition, I'm probably fitter and trimmer than I've ever been. My body's not bad at all; I get admiring looks. My face, however, shows my age. It's like I got to thirty-five years old the hard way and just before I got there I got run over by a truck. “Not a pretty boy,” as Richard told me. He's a son of a bitch but at least he's honest. If he says you look like shit, you better believe him.
The strange thing, and I can't begin to explain, I have no desire to be a flasher anymore. Now that I have a body that might be worth flashin' around, zero urge. No need. No desire. No LOOK AT ME feelings. I think Mrs. Lucketts is the most disappointed. I'd always catch her lookin' out her window. She loved it when my towel would fall off or my pants fall down.
So here I am hoeing the rutabagas that will never mature, rutabagas doomed to freeze to death in about six weeks. Brandon says they and the rye grass will aerate the soil for the serious planting in the spring. I'm learning this stuff and better yet getting paid for it.
Here comes some kid. Where the hell did he come from. I thought I knew everybody here. Hope he doesn't want to talk. Yeah, good. Keep walkin', kid; keep movin' and let me finish. He stopped by a tree. Now what? He's just standing there half hidden.
“Dude, a little help?” he calls over his shoulder.
Fuck. I put my cultivator down and walked slightly uphill to where the tree is growing. He turns and he's the flasher. In broad daylight. Pants open and the goods hanging out. I try to ignore the obvious. “What?”
“I can't get the cum out of my dick.” He pauses and lets that comment hang in the air while still fingering what looks like a half-hardon. “You think you could help?”
God damn it. He looks thirteen. He's got this smirk on his face that says he's done this before. He holds his dick straight out with a confident expectation of getting the help he wants. He knows I'm gonna do it. I start to bend over.
“It's easier if you kneel.”
Fuck! I'm being ordered around by a kid. Nice dick, though. I kneel. And I gotta say I love suckin' cock. My mouth went dry at the first sight of his offer; now it's wet with anticipation. I'm sniffing the air for that scent of muskiness that says man meat. I come closer and he takes his hand away. His cock is inches away, bobbing slightly with his pulse. The smell comes. The velvet softness in my mouth. And then he thrusts. His hardness hits the back of my throat. He's got more to give me, but he holds back. I don't get all of it until he's ready and then he shoves it into my throat. He groans. I take it. His pelvis is grindin' against my face. I grab him by his jean-covered ass and pull him against me. He thrusts. I try to make him go faster. He's determined to go slower. He wins. I pull his balls out and hold them against my chin. He likes that. He goes deeper again. And then faster. He groans.
“Jeez, you got a hot mouth. Take it. Take it,” he whispers. I sense the muscles of his thighs tightening as he thrusts into my face. “I'm cummin'.”
I struggle to swallow and then to breath. He steadies himself against the tree, enjoying the last of his orgasm as his dick starts to wilt in my mouth.
“God damn! I knew you were a good cocksucker!” At least the kid is appreciative. “My turn,” he says, goin' for my fly. I almost panic.
“Wait!”
“No way. Lean back and enjoy.” Next thing I'm leaning back against the tree with my pants around my thighs and he's goin' to town. He pauses and looks up at me. “You are one hot dude.” He says it straight out, like he means it. He's good. He looks up at me again and grins with my cock in his mouth, like he's enjoyin' it. He makes “Mmmm” noises. He puts his fist into my balls, crushing them a little. No pain, just pressure. Fuck! I come. He swallows. He leaves my cock almost as clean as after a shower. He's still grinning as he stands.
“Uh ...” I don't know what to say.
“I like getting fucked on Thursdays,” he says. “It's a nice lead-in to the weekend.” He pats my cheek almost tenderly, winks, and walks away fastening his fly and arrangin' his clothes.
“Kid,” I call out. “What's your name?” He mumbles something I think I get right and keeps walkin'.
Whoa! Stuff like that doesn't happen to me. I mean it just doesn't. I'm dazed and confused and feel like a teenager who just had his first shot of great sex. Amazement!
I was still in a stupor when Brandon came back from the house. He was quiet, which suited me. I didn't feel like talking, I was busy replaying my session with the kid in my head - over and over. We finished and got in the truck.
“Lonnie … you're gay, right? I mean. I know you are, but ...” Uh-oh. Now what. “If I asked you to suck my dick, would you do it?”
“Brandon, you're my boss.”
“Forget I'm your boss. Would you do it? I'm not asking you to. I just want to know am I somebody that would appeal to you? Sexually?”
“Brandon … how can I answer that? I know you in a totally different way ...”
He fired questions at me. “Am I good looking?”
“Well, yes, but ...”
He didn't pause. “Do I have a good build?”
“Yes.”
Again. “Am I hot?”
“See, that's a hard one. I just never think of you that way.”
“You never met me. I come on to you. Would you do it?”
“I guess so.”
He wanted certainty. “Would you?”
“Yes, alright?”
“If I stop the truck right now, would you give me a blow job?” I hesitated. “Yes or no?”
“Yes.” I'm hoping he doesn't know how hot I actually think he is. Thank God he doesn't stop the truck.
“What's got into you?” I asked him. “You need to get laid.”
“I tried that!” he yelled and pounded the steering wheel. “I CAN'T GET IT UP!”
“Well, maybe you ...”
“Since Vertical Sandra, I can't get it up with a chick.” He sounds desperate. “Every time I try, I keep thinking of those fangs. I know it was just a tattoo, but SHIT! I can't get it out of my head! I'm scared to death of pussy!” He takes some deep breaths. “And last night AGAIN I dreamed ...” He pauses and looks me in the eye. “Last night I dreamed about sex with Buddy.” He almost sobbed. “I woke up cumming! I haven't had a wet dream since I was twelve.”
“Truth? I've never had one.” He didn't find that comforting, but it distracted him.
“Never? Really? I used to have 'em all the time.” He smiled to himself. “All I had to do was think about a girl before I went to sleep and whoosh! Time to change the sheets.” He laughed. “It used to piss my mother off. I remember one time she said she was going to tie a knot in my dick.”
“So maybe Vertical Sandra's tattoo isn't your only issue with women ...” As soon as I said that, I knew I should have kept my mouth shut.
“What? What?” His second what was much quieter than the first one. “You're thinking … what?”
“Nothing. What do I know? Nothing. Forget I said it.” That was like telling the jury to disregard a defendant's confession. Right. It's as good as forgotten. As if ... He gave me a look, but didn't push it.
“Met a kid named Horace today out back,” I announced to change the subject.
“Hollis,” Brandon corrected me. “He put the moves on Buddy. With me standing right there. I warned him off.”
“Did Buddy need your help?”
“Course not. I just didn't think he should have to bother.” Brandon sounded pissed and jealous. “Buddy was totally cool about it; I wish I could be that way.”
Oh, Brandon, what are you doing to yourself? I didn't tell him that, of course; but I thought it.
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Fascinating outlook and experiences. Definitely an interesting perspective. 
I'm thinking that Brandon won't be all the straight for long, and might even fall "victim" to Hollis himself. Hollis certainly seems to be a force to be reckoned with, George, Lonnie, Buddy, etc., Brandon?
What a tangled web You weave!
Chaz
I'm thinking that Brandon won't be all the straight for long, and might even fall "victim" to Hollis himself. Hollis certainly seems to be a force to be reckoned with, George, Lonnie, Buddy, etc., Brandon?
What a tangled web You weave!
Chaz
I forget all the characters and their beginnings - and been running a lot lately so the brain is fried - thanks for the reminder and the sexplorations!