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In Praise of Hanes
- Thread starter EasyRory
- Start date
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Age and alcoholism had not yet destroyed Butch's mother. From across a room, if you didn't look too hard, she was beautiful. The source of his good looks was obvious. Even if she only echoed her youthful looks, which must have been unbelievable, she was still a very attractive woman. She was probably as much older than I am as Butch was younger. I'm assuming the alcoholism; but there was ample evidence. The heat of the day didn't justify a pitcher of vodka martinis before noon. She sipped steadily the whole time I waited for Butch to pack up essentials.
“And you live where?” she asked me for the third time.
“Jenifer Street, in northwest DC, Mrs. Nelson. Jenifer with one N,” I repeated. “Butch wrote it down for you.”
“That's right. You told me.” She paused for a sip. “And Butchie wants to live in your house?” She looked at me much too steadily.
“Temporarily,” I said. “Until he figures out what he wants to do.”
“Honey, I'm older than you and I haven't figured that out yet.” She laughed and turned to a man of about my age who walked into the room. “Clay, this is ...”
“Refo,” I said, holding out my hand. He didn't shake, he bumped my hand with his fist and repeated my name. Clay yawned, stretched, and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to straighten it out. I guessed he combed it with a rock. He shook his head, trying to clear away the fog of sleep. “Morning,” he added.
“Honey, could you pour me a skosh more?” Monica held up her glass. Clay and I looked at each other, not sure which waiter she was addressing. Clay shrugged and went for the pitcher. He filled up her glass.
“And you have a job, uh …?” Again she groped for my name.
“Refo. Yes, I work at the NIH as a biochemist.” My words made no impression. “The National Institutes of Health … in Bethesda, Maryland. I'm in the Heart Institute.” Nobody called it by its full name, the National Institute of Heart, Lung, Blood, and Infectious Diseases.
“A biochemist, huh. Could you brew up some meth?” Clay apparently thought that would be a useful ability. He sat down next to Monica and rested one bare foot on the table, unaware that part of his cock was in plain sight only partly hidden by his baggy shorts. I did my best to avoid looking.
“You go all the way to Maryland to work?”
“It's only two subway stops away,” I explained. “I can even walk if it's a nice day and I'm not in a hurry.” It was hard talking to Monica and keeping my eyes off Clay's cock.
“Clay, go put some underwear on. You're driving Reno crazy.” She turned to me and winked. “Drives me crazy, too.”
Clay face showed annoyance. I couldn't tell if he was annoyed with me or with Monica. He didn't look at either of us; instead he closed his legs, crossing one over the other and resting both feet on the cocktail table in front of him. Wow. What was I supposed to say next? Sorry, Clay, I wasn't really looking? By the way, are you circumcised? From what I could see, I couldn't tell for sure. Utter mortification. I wished Monica had offered me a martini.
“Ready?” Butch appeared with a small suitcase and a bigger backpack. Clay and I rose to our feet and Monica made an attempt. I hurried to the door. Butch loaded his stuff into his truck and came back to say his formal goodbye. While Butch and his mother made each other reassuring promises to call and visit, Clay smiled at me. He nodded in Butch's direction and whispered, “Gives a great blow job.” He laughed at my reaction and went back in the house.
We were back in DC and had Butch installed in my half-house by noon. I tried to mind my own business, but couldn't help saying to Butch, “You should have said goodbye to your grandmother.” I tried to make the omission seem like an oversight. I didn't want to criticize him like a parent.
“The thing is she's not my grandmother,” Butch answered. “She thinks she is. Who knows? She could be, it's possible. But my mother said no. I don't know for sure who my father is.”
“Butch, there are tests. DNA tests. They can give you a real good idea who your father is. Not a hundred percent perfect, but you would know almost without doubt whether you are related to the Krols.”
“Why would I want to know? It wouldn't change anything. I'd still be shoveling chicken shit. I'd still be a dumb bastard kid from nowhere.” The words depressed him. “I'm going to go see a guy I met in Florida. You have my cell number, right?”
He didn't want to talk about family matters and I didn't press him. I gave him a key and told him I was driving out into Virginia. It was hot as blazes in town, and I couldn't wait to leave. I just hoped Frank would be home. Once Butch had left, I called Frank. He sounded tired. He must have had some night with Jody.
“Sorry. Did I wake you? I picked up something for you. Can I drop it off?”
“Wake me? I've been up since six,” Frank said.
Sure, sure. I didn't believe him, but I also didn't care what his excuse was. I was eager to give him the cider press and see if I stood any kind of a chance with him ... see if Jody was a regular thing … see if …
I hit the highway. Just what are you after, I asked myself, while honking at somebody who cut me off. Do you really want Frank back or is this one of those things where you just don't want anybody else to have him? I knew there was a huge sexual attraction, but as long as I was being honest, there was with Butch, too.
I was more or less amazed that I had kept my hands off the kid the night before. He would have let me, lying in my bed. I was sure he would have agreed to anything. If I'd wanted to. I wasn't really that tired. We could have done just about anything. “Gives a great blow job.” What the fuck was Clay talking about? Maybe he does … But how the hell would Clay know? 'Cause he got a blow job, obviously. I tried but just couldn't picture Butch going down on Clay. The image just wouldn't appear. I couldn't even conceive what position they would have been in. Clay standing? Butch on his knees? Lying down? In a truck with pants shoved down? Nothing would appear in my head.
The terrible counterpart was I could easily picture Frank and Jody together, fucking, sucking, sleeping in Frank's big bed, kissing on the roof, washing each other in the shower, holding hands, or even just sitting watching TV. There was no limit to my conjured visions of those two. In my mind, they looked perfect, like a couple made for each other.
I bothered me that I couldn't picture myself with Frank and I spent a year sleeping with him. It shouldn't have bothered me, because I'm not too good at picturing myself at all. But it did. All I could come up with was an incompatible twosome that looked like a city slicker and a country boy barely tolerating each other. The fact that I couldn't picture myself with Butch either was no comfort.
In fact the only thing I could imagine clearly was me pile-driving Jawan, in an impossible position that was unknown to the authors of the Kama Sutra, the Joy of Gay Sex, or Ripley's Believe It or Not. Not only could I vividly picture sex with Jawan, I was getting hard thinking about it. Just how fucked up is that?
My reverie was disturbed on US 340 just south of Luray. The Mazda sputtered, coughed, and died. With it's dying gasp, it shrieked, “I'm a piece of econo-crap.” I swear I hear those exact, Japanese-accented words. I made matters worse; I killed the battery trying to restart it.
Frank was hugely amused and towed me fifteen miles to his place on a very short scope of chain. Have you ever been towed at sixty miles an hour on a five foot length of chain? With the ass end of a pickup staring you in the face? It's hair-raising. I had my foot on the brake the whole way.
“You look pale? Are you alright?” Frank pretended to be concerned but he was laughing half the time while I complained of nerves, shakes, a headache, and a dead car. “Where's my present?” he asked.
“It's at Mike's. I dropped it off yesterday when you weren't home.” That shut him up. He knew I knew about Jody.
“Want to go get it?” he asked quietly. We did and he tried to make up to me by overpraising the cider press. It sat in the shade of Mike's front porch.
“Refo, it's beautiful.” It isn't. “It's aged over the years like fine wine.” It hasn't and there is a rust stain on part of the screw mechanism. “I'm amazed, delighted really.” He was just pretending, I could tell.
“I've never seen you so pleased, Frank.” I didn't believe Mike's comment either.
We drove the press back to Frank's. The only productive event was Charlie offering me a ride back to the city when he went that night.
“We can try it out soon, Reef. The first of the apple crop is only a couple weeks away. The early ones are best for apple sauce, but we could try a cider. It will make both.”
“Those four little trees are going to produce a 'crop'?”
“Not this year, I'll buy some apples.” Frank's cheerfulness wasn't cheering me up. He tried harder. “I'm always glad when you come out here. Want to stay for dinner?”
“I kind of have to. Charlie isn't going back until … I forgot to ask him.”
“He usually leaves around nine on Sundays. You mind staying until then? Or I could drive you back if you want.”
We heard thunder. “It's gonna rain. I can't drag you into town and back in a rain storm.”
“The rain's a ways off. And it won't last long,” Frank said. “So, you want to watch the storm move in? I've done some work on the cupola.”
We climbed to the roof of the barn and I wondered if he shown Jody his progress on the cupola. Of course he had. “It's different!” I said in surprise.
“Yes, I added a railing and posts around the perimeter to hold the roof. Then I didn't need the center post so I took it out, making it a little more roomy. I think I could fit two chairs up here now.” He paused. “If I had the chairs … It's always something.”
“I liked it the way it was.”
Frank laughed. “Are you sure you're not a Virginian? The way it was was dangerous. I shouldn't have brought you up here.”
“I loved it that day, up here with you.” Shit, I felt like I was gonna cry.
“Reef ...” Frank noticed my mood and put his arms around me. “What's wrong?”
“Everything. My car's dead. This idiot kid wants to be my roommate. Sarah Felsen's pregnant. And you're running around with some guy from Harrisburg, Charlie says. And I was totally wrong about Mike. And wrong about you ...”
“Shhh.” He gave me a little hug. “Let's go back to that part about you being wrong abut me. What are you talking about?”
“Every time I'm with you is the best time I've had since the last time I was with you. I'm running out of excuses to come out here. And I miss you when I'm not here. And I was totally wrong about thinking you are selfish. And asking you to move out was the dumbest thing I've ever done. And ...” I jumped in his arms in reaction to the noise. A crackling clap of thunder sounded much closer. “Fuck,” I shouted, half-alarmed by the squall and half-afraid I had said way too much. I looked in his eyes.
He kissed my cheek. “Jody is somebody I've known since we were babies.” He kissed my other cheek. “We taught each other a few things when we were growing up, but that's all.” He kissed my mouth. “Now, shut up and watch the storm. We'll talk more later.” He turned me around and hugged me the same way he had the last time we were watching the clouds come at us. “I loved being up here with you, too.”
I kissed his hands and his arms, his neck and some of his face, all of him I could get at while he held me tightly. We lasted until the chill of the rain drove us back downstairs. We stripped and dried each other and climbed into his big bed. The storm-driven darkness of the barn was a perfect match for the pelting of the rain in making it a beautiful afternoon.
Our love-making was passionate but aimless. Neither one of us was anxious to get down to it. Lots of kissing and touching was followed by some mutual cock-sucking. When it was my turn I went a little lower and licked my way to his asshole. I felt no urgency, I was just exploring; and then I hear him groan, “Fuck me, Refo.”
It was the sweetest fuck I've ever known. We progressed quickly to penetration and then stopped while he got used to me being in him. Then he tugged at me to start up the motion. Slowly we began. He spread wider, welcoming my cock. Before long he was anticipating each thrust. I watched his face, the little twinges of pain turned to open-mouthed sighs. I kissed him and he kissed back eagerly. His glow of pleasure entered me like spreading fire. I came so close to coming I wasn't sure I could stop it. “Wait.”
He heard my urgency and froze. Soon we resumed. I fucked him slowly and stroked his cock to the same rhythm. I felt its slick length grow harder in my hand. “Stop,” he pleaded but I didn't. At the first signs of his orgasm, I pounded his ass setting off my own gushing eruption.
It was over and I was still overwhelmed, crying from pleasure, hoping Frank couldn't see the tears; but he knew me better than I thought and kissed them away. We gradually came down from our peaks and relaxed, breathing more normally. The kissing continued; it seemed like there could never be too much kissing.
“Reef, you know how you fall in love with guys who fuck you?”
“Jeez, Frank ...” How could he bring up other guys?
“I think I understand now. I get it, Reef.”
Age and alcoholism had not yet destroyed Butch's mother. From across a room, if you didn't look too hard, she was beautiful. The source of his good looks was obvious. Even if she only echoed her youthful looks, which must have been unbelievable, she was still a very attractive woman. She was probably as much older than I am as Butch was younger. I'm assuming the alcoholism; but there was ample evidence. The heat of the day didn't justify a pitcher of vodka martinis before noon. She sipped steadily the whole time I waited for Butch to pack up essentials.
“And you live where?” she asked me for the third time.
“Jenifer Street, in northwest DC, Mrs. Nelson. Jenifer with one N,” I repeated. “Butch wrote it down for you.”
“That's right. You told me.” She paused for a sip. “And Butchie wants to live in your house?” She looked at me much too steadily.
“Temporarily,” I said. “Until he figures out what he wants to do.”
“Honey, I'm older than you and I haven't figured that out yet.” She laughed and turned to a man of about my age who walked into the room. “Clay, this is ...”
“Refo,” I said, holding out my hand. He didn't shake, he bumped my hand with his fist and repeated my name. Clay yawned, stretched, and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to straighten it out. I guessed he combed it with a rock. He shook his head, trying to clear away the fog of sleep. “Morning,” he added.
“Honey, could you pour me a skosh more?” Monica held up her glass. Clay and I looked at each other, not sure which waiter she was addressing. Clay shrugged and went for the pitcher. He filled up her glass.
“And you have a job, uh …?” Again she groped for my name.
“Refo. Yes, I work at the NIH as a biochemist.” My words made no impression. “The National Institutes of Health … in Bethesda, Maryland. I'm in the Heart Institute.” Nobody called it by its full name, the National Institute of Heart, Lung, Blood, and Infectious Diseases.
“A biochemist, huh. Could you brew up some meth?” Clay apparently thought that would be a useful ability. He sat down next to Monica and rested one bare foot on the table, unaware that part of his cock was in plain sight only partly hidden by his baggy shorts. I did my best to avoid looking.
“You go all the way to Maryland to work?”
“It's only two subway stops away,” I explained. “I can even walk if it's a nice day and I'm not in a hurry.” It was hard talking to Monica and keeping my eyes off Clay's cock.
“Clay, go put some underwear on. You're driving Reno crazy.” She turned to me and winked. “Drives me crazy, too.”
Clay face showed annoyance. I couldn't tell if he was annoyed with me or with Monica. He didn't look at either of us; instead he closed his legs, crossing one over the other and resting both feet on the cocktail table in front of him. Wow. What was I supposed to say next? Sorry, Clay, I wasn't really looking? By the way, are you circumcised? From what I could see, I couldn't tell for sure. Utter mortification. I wished Monica had offered me a martini.
“Ready?” Butch appeared with a small suitcase and a bigger backpack. Clay and I rose to our feet and Monica made an attempt. I hurried to the door. Butch loaded his stuff into his truck and came back to say his formal goodbye. While Butch and his mother made each other reassuring promises to call and visit, Clay smiled at me. He nodded in Butch's direction and whispered, “Gives a great blow job.” He laughed at my reaction and went back in the house.
We were back in DC and had Butch installed in my half-house by noon. I tried to mind my own business, but couldn't help saying to Butch, “You should have said goodbye to your grandmother.” I tried to make the omission seem like an oversight. I didn't want to criticize him like a parent.
“The thing is she's not my grandmother,” Butch answered. “She thinks she is. Who knows? She could be, it's possible. But my mother said no. I don't know for sure who my father is.”
“Butch, there are tests. DNA tests. They can give you a real good idea who your father is. Not a hundred percent perfect, but you would know almost without doubt whether you are related to the Krols.”
“Why would I want to know? It wouldn't change anything. I'd still be shoveling chicken shit. I'd still be a dumb bastard kid from nowhere.” The words depressed him. “I'm going to go see a guy I met in Florida. You have my cell number, right?”
He didn't want to talk about family matters and I didn't press him. I gave him a key and told him I was driving out into Virginia. It was hot as blazes in town, and I couldn't wait to leave. I just hoped Frank would be home. Once Butch had left, I called Frank. He sounded tired. He must have had some night with Jody.
“Sorry. Did I wake you? I picked up something for you. Can I drop it off?”
“Wake me? I've been up since six,” Frank said.
Sure, sure. I didn't believe him, but I also didn't care what his excuse was. I was eager to give him the cider press and see if I stood any kind of a chance with him ... see if Jody was a regular thing … see if …
I hit the highway. Just what are you after, I asked myself, while honking at somebody who cut me off. Do you really want Frank back or is this one of those things where you just don't want anybody else to have him? I knew there was a huge sexual attraction, but as long as I was being honest, there was with Butch, too.
I was more or less amazed that I had kept my hands off the kid the night before. He would have let me, lying in my bed. I was sure he would have agreed to anything. If I'd wanted to. I wasn't really that tired. We could have done just about anything. “Gives a great blow job.” What the fuck was Clay talking about? Maybe he does … But how the hell would Clay know? 'Cause he got a blow job, obviously. I tried but just couldn't picture Butch going down on Clay. The image just wouldn't appear. I couldn't even conceive what position they would have been in. Clay standing? Butch on his knees? Lying down? In a truck with pants shoved down? Nothing would appear in my head.
The terrible counterpart was I could easily picture Frank and Jody together, fucking, sucking, sleeping in Frank's big bed, kissing on the roof, washing each other in the shower, holding hands, or even just sitting watching TV. There was no limit to my conjured visions of those two. In my mind, they looked perfect, like a couple made for each other.
I bothered me that I couldn't picture myself with Frank and I spent a year sleeping with him. It shouldn't have bothered me, because I'm not too good at picturing myself at all. But it did. All I could come up with was an incompatible twosome that looked like a city slicker and a country boy barely tolerating each other. The fact that I couldn't picture myself with Butch either was no comfort.
In fact the only thing I could imagine clearly was me pile-driving Jawan, in an impossible position that was unknown to the authors of the Kama Sutra, the Joy of Gay Sex, or Ripley's Believe It or Not. Not only could I vividly picture sex with Jawan, I was getting hard thinking about it. Just how fucked up is that?
My reverie was disturbed on US 340 just south of Luray. The Mazda sputtered, coughed, and died. With it's dying gasp, it shrieked, “I'm a piece of econo-crap.” I swear I hear those exact, Japanese-accented words. I made matters worse; I killed the battery trying to restart it.
Frank was hugely amused and towed me fifteen miles to his place on a very short scope of chain. Have you ever been towed at sixty miles an hour on a five foot length of chain? With the ass end of a pickup staring you in the face? It's hair-raising. I had my foot on the brake the whole way.
“You look pale? Are you alright?” Frank pretended to be concerned but he was laughing half the time while I complained of nerves, shakes, a headache, and a dead car. “Where's my present?” he asked.
“It's at Mike's. I dropped it off yesterday when you weren't home.” That shut him up. He knew I knew about Jody.
“Want to go get it?” he asked quietly. We did and he tried to make up to me by overpraising the cider press. It sat in the shade of Mike's front porch.
“Refo, it's beautiful.” It isn't. “It's aged over the years like fine wine.” It hasn't and there is a rust stain on part of the screw mechanism. “I'm amazed, delighted really.” He was just pretending, I could tell.
“I've never seen you so pleased, Frank.” I didn't believe Mike's comment either.
We drove the press back to Frank's. The only productive event was Charlie offering me a ride back to the city when he went that night.
“We can try it out soon, Reef. The first of the apple crop is only a couple weeks away. The early ones are best for apple sauce, but we could try a cider. It will make both.”
“Those four little trees are going to produce a 'crop'?”
“Not this year, I'll buy some apples.” Frank's cheerfulness wasn't cheering me up. He tried harder. “I'm always glad when you come out here. Want to stay for dinner?”
“I kind of have to. Charlie isn't going back until … I forgot to ask him.”
“He usually leaves around nine on Sundays. You mind staying until then? Or I could drive you back if you want.”
We heard thunder. “It's gonna rain. I can't drag you into town and back in a rain storm.”
“The rain's a ways off. And it won't last long,” Frank said. “So, you want to watch the storm move in? I've done some work on the cupola.”
We climbed to the roof of the barn and I wondered if he shown Jody his progress on the cupola. Of course he had. “It's different!” I said in surprise.
“Yes, I added a railing and posts around the perimeter to hold the roof. Then I didn't need the center post so I took it out, making it a little more roomy. I think I could fit two chairs up here now.” He paused. “If I had the chairs … It's always something.”
“I liked it the way it was.”
Frank laughed. “Are you sure you're not a Virginian? The way it was was dangerous. I shouldn't have brought you up here.”
“I loved it that day, up here with you.” Shit, I felt like I was gonna cry.
“Reef ...” Frank noticed my mood and put his arms around me. “What's wrong?”
“Everything. My car's dead. This idiot kid wants to be my roommate. Sarah Felsen's pregnant. And you're running around with some guy from Harrisburg, Charlie says. And I was totally wrong about Mike. And wrong about you ...”
“Shhh.” He gave me a little hug. “Let's go back to that part about you being wrong abut me. What are you talking about?”
“Every time I'm with you is the best time I've had since the last time I was with you. I'm running out of excuses to come out here. And I miss you when I'm not here. And I was totally wrong about thinking you are selfish. And asking you to move out was the dumbest thing I've ever done. And ...” I jumped in his arms in reaction to the noise. A crackling clap of thunder sounded much closer. “Fuck,” I shouted, half-alarmed by the squall and half-afraid I had said way too much. I looked in his eyes.
He kissed my cheek. “Jody is somebody I've known since we were babies.” He kissed my other cheek. “We taught each other a few things when we were growing up, but that's all.” He kissed my mouth. “Now, shut up and watch the storm. We'll talk more later.” He turned me around and hugged me the same way he had the last time we were watching the clouds come at us. “I loved being up here with you, too.”
I kissed his hands and his arms, his neck and some of his face, all of him I could get at while he held me tightly. We lasted until the chill of the rain drove us back downstairs. We stripped and dried each other and climbed into his big bed. The storm-driven darkness of the barn was a perfect match for the pelting of the rain in making it a beautiful afternoon.
Our love-making was passionate but aimless. Neither one of us was anxious to get down to it. Lots of kissing and touching was followed by some mutual cock-sucking. When it was my turn I went a little lower and licked my way to his asshole. I felt no urgency, I was just exploring; and then I hear him groan, “Fuck me, Refo.”
It was the sweetest fuck I've ever known. We progressed quickly to penetration and then stopped while he got used to me being in him. Then he tugged at me to start up the motion. Slowly we began. He spread wider, welcoming my cock. Before long he was anticipating each thrust. I watched his face, the little twinges of pain turned to open-mouthed sighs. I kissed him and he kissed back eagerly. His glow of pleasure entered me like spreading fire. I came so close to coming I wasn't sure I could stop it. “Wait.”
He heard my urgency and froze. Soon we resumed. I fucked him slowly and stroked his cock to the same rhythm. I felt its slick length grow harder in my hand. “Stop,” he pleaded but I didn't. At the first signs of his orgasm, I pounded his ass setting off my own gushing eruption.
It was over and I was still overwhelmed, crying from pleasure, hoping Frank couldn't see the tears; but he knew me better than I thought and kissed them away. We gradually came down from our peaks and relaxed, breathing more normally. The kissing continued; it seemed like there could never be too much kissing.
“Reef, you know how you fall in love with guys who fuck you?”
“Jeez, Frank ...” How could he bring up other guys?
“I think I understand now. I get it, Reef.”
Are they REALLY going to get back together - as a REAL, Loving Couple?
And then there's "the kid" back at Refo's, lol.
And then there's "the kid" back at Refo's, lol.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Fucking Frank utterly blew me away. I knew he was good looking and attentive and fun and I love it when he fucked me; but I had no idea how encompassingly awesome fucking him could be. He didn't just press all my buttons, he destroyed them. With my eyes closed, I kept touching him to make sure he was still there, that he was real, that he wasn't going to evaporate leaving only an irreproducible memory behind. I thought we had tried everything, but I couldn't remember fucking him before. Why not? Why didn't we ever try it?
“What are you doing?” he asked as I ran my fingers over his face again.
“Trying to convince myself that really just happened.”
“Yeah,” Frank sounded as pleased as I was. “What made you decide to fuck me?”
“Three words. 'Fuck me, Refo', you said.”
“I didn't. I mean, I wanted you to – and I'm glad you did; but I never said that.”
“You did. Distinctly. I heard you.“
“No way. I've been waiting for it since I met you, but I know for sure I never said that.”
“You wanted me to fuck you?”
“Yes,” he kissed me to make his point.
“So, why didn't you ask? Why did we waste all that time on blow jobs you didn't like?”
“I liked 'em; I just like fucking a whole lot more. I didn't ask because … I wanted you to figure it out. To know me well enough that you could tell when I was liking stuff – to know which way to go.”
“If only you had asked ...”
“But you did figure it out, Reef. It just took a while.”
“I heard you say it.”
“Your brain heard me, not your ears.”
“Frank, I'm a scientist. I know real sound from imaginary.”
“Nothing imaginary about it. My body was begging you to fuck me. It was the first time you sensed it.”
Surreal would be putting it mildly. I lay my head on his chest and listened to him breath and felt his chest hair tickle my nose. I ran my hand across his belly and gently held his cock. It was limp and still wet. I smeared the cum around enjoying the feel of its slickness on the skin of Frank's cock. “You're still a little bit hard,” I told him.
“I love you, Refo.”
I sat up and looked him in the eye. “Did I imagine that, too?”
“No, I said it. Probably too soon, 'cause I have no idea where this is going. But you already know I love you, so it didn't hurt my chances, did it?”
“I don't think I know much at all, but I'm learning.” Frank seemed skeptical; I asked him, “You don't trust me?”
“Sure I trust you. But there was Lucas. Remember him? And Jawan. And who was the guy in San Francisco?”
“Carter. But they didn't matter ...”
“They did at the time.” He didn't rub my nose in it, but I had to admit he had a point. “And who's this new kid? The one who wants to move in with you?”
“Butch.”
“See? See what I mean? I trust you, but ...” He sighed. “Butch sounds cute.”
“He is. He's so hot it hurts your eyes to look at him.”
“You said that about Carter, if I recall ...”
“It's true. He's practically a porn star. But he's nothing like you, Frank. You're deep and you matter, and I know you want me to ... at least I think you want me to stick around.”
“Your pants are buzzing,” Frank noted. I made no move to answer the phone. “Go ahead and answer it. I want to watch you walk across the room naked.”
I felt self-conscious knowing his eyes were watching me. I tried to pull my stomach in, but that made the walk seem even more awkward. I pulled the phone out of my pocket and looked at the caller. “It's him,” I told Frank.
“So answer it.”
I set the phone to speaker and said, “Butch, what's up?”
“Where are you? I thought you'd be back by now.”
“Car died. I'm in Virginia.”
“I told you to get the timing checked. Didn't I tell you?”
“You did. So I have an offer of a ride back later tonight.”
“Or you could stay over,” Frank inserted.
“Who's that?” Butch asked.
“The owner of the air mattress you're sleeping on.”
“Hi, Frank,” Butch called out. Frank smiled at the recognition.
“Or I could stay over, and get my car fixed maybe tomorrow.”
“Or you could stay over and I could fix your car tomorrow,” Butch proposed. “I could get a fuel injection control module as soon as a dealer opens and install it. Won't take long.”
“How do you know that's what is wrong?”
“If it isn't, we can hold a funeral. It's probably not worth fixing if it isn't.” I gave him directions to Frank's and we figured he would get there around noon. “See you then, Reefer.”
“Refo,” I emphasized, but he was already gone. I walked back to the bed and crawled in. “It's ok if I stay?” Frank didn't answer, he just pulled me into a hug. I sighed, “That's a yes.”
“See, Reef? We don't need words.” Frank started doing stuff to me that he knew I really liked, stuff like squeezing my butt with both his hands. I like it firm but gentle. It helps if you kiss me a little; Frank had that figured out, too. And then he teased my nipples with his tongue. That always makes me want to get fucked. Frank was ready when I was.
“You sure have me figured out,” I told him.
“I don't. You're full of surprises all the time.”
Bull shit. He knew exactly what to do to make me want it. This time, I tried to remember what had worked so well – the things he had done to me. I tried to copy him. I used my thumbs and pressed on his pubic bone. He liked that, liked it a lot. I tried it with the palms of my hands. It made his thrusts erratic – that's how much he liked it. “I'm gonna cum,” he gasped, way before he usually got off from a blow job.”Refo!” He nearly strangled saying my name.
I love making guys cum. And watching them almost gets me off. Frank's face was the picture of a lost boy, bewildered by sensations, alive with hunger. He opened his eyes and I knew he loved me. For that moment I satisfied every need he ever knew. He told me with his body.
I waited for his first words. They took a while and then they came with an urgency. “Are you hungry? I'm starving!”
Mike and Charlie joined us at a barbeque place on the road to Woodstock. We ordered beers and read the menu quietly. The waitress came back to the table for our orders. She had a handkerchief embroidered 'Marla' pinned to her uniform over her left breast. I was dying to use Groucho Marx's joke, “Marla … that's a nice name. What do you call the other one?” Frank sensed this and poked me in the ribs; the last time I used the joke I would have got punched out by the waitress's boss if Frank hadn't been there.
We ordered and then Mike broke the silence. “Ever'body's so quiet you'd think we spent the whole afternoon fuckin'.”
Charlie was mortified but said nothing. I decided I really liked Mike. And Frank drawled, “From the looks of y'all, I'd say we did.” Mike grinned and I could see the family resemblance; I could see how adorable Frank must have been when he was younger. I looked again at his profile and decided I liked the way he looked now.
“Frank, you get more southern with the square of the distance from Washington,” I said to him.
“Just a hillbilly at heart,” he smiled.
“I'm a hillbilly all through,” Mike added.
“You are not. You're much brighter than you admit,” Charlie chastized.
“You don't have to be dumb to be a hillbilly. It's an attitude, not a SAT score,” Frank suggested.
“It's so redneck ...” Charlie dismissed the idea.
“Big difference between a redneck and a hillbilly. You don't appreciate the culture, Charlie.”
“Trailer parks and TV antennas four hundred feet high.”
“That's redneck. Hillbillies live in the woods like Mike and me and don't have televisions,” Frank explained.
“You don't? I've just been getting to like 'Devious Maids'.”
“God, Refo,” Charlie rolled his eyes. “How can you watch that trash?”
“It's funny. They're pretty. They have hot boyfriends. What more could you want?”
“See, now, that's redneck. Mike and I are hillbillies.” Frank squeezed my leg under the table.
The most unhealthy meal possible arrived. Everything was fried except the pork, which was swimming in a sugary sauce. And it tasted so good. I was starving and could have eaten the blue stripe design off the plate. Apple pie and ice cream for dessert completed the devastation of modern nutritional theory. We went out into the darkness of the parking lot.
“You ready, Refo? Before it gets any later ...” Charlie looked at his phone for the time and was impatient to get on the road back to Washington.
“Um, I'm going to stay at Frank's and get the car fixed in the morning.”
Mike's grin split his face. “Yes!” he said quietly.
“You approve?” I asked him.
“I told Frank you would! I just knew it!”
“Clairvoyance is another hillbilly skill,” Charlie teased dryly.
“So's fuckin',” Mike said and kissed Charlie with surprising passion considering we were in sight of the restaurant.
Charlie, dazed from the kiss, stalled his car on his first attempt to start it. He succeeded on the next try and headed northeast alone. The rest of us headed back toward Elkton. “Who's Butch?” Mike asked after I explained how I hoped to get my car fixed.
“A farm boy who's a porn star,” Frank added to my 'farm boy from Delaware' answer..
“A porn star … no shit? I never met a porn star.” Mike was intrigued.
“A porn star who can fix Mazdas, I hope.”
“You gotta get a truck, Refo. They make more sense,” Mike said. Frank said nothing, he just put his arm around me and gave me a reassuring squeeze.
Fucking Frank utterly blew me away. I knew he was good looking and attentive and fun and I love it when he fucked me; but I had no idea how encompassingly awesome fucking him could be. He didn't just press all my buttons, he destroyed them. With my eyes closed, I kept touching him to make sure he was still there, that he was real, that he wasn't going to evaporate leaving only an irreproducible memory behind. I thought we had tried everything, but I couldn't remember fucking him before. Why not? Why didn't we ever try it?
“What are you doing?” he asked as I ran my fingers over his face again.
“Trying to convince myself that really just happened.”
“Yeah,” Frank sounded as pleased as I was. “What made you decide to fuck me?”
“Three words. 'Fuck me, Refo', you said.”
“I didn't. I mean, I wanted you to – and I'm glad you did; but I never said that.”
“You did. Distinctly. I heard you.“
“No way. I've been waiting for it since I met you, but I know for sure I never said that.”
“You wanted me to fuck you?”
“Yes,” he kissed me to make his point.
“So, why didn't you ask? Why did we waste all that time on blow jobs you didn't like?”
“I liked 'em; I just like fucking a whole lot more. I didn't ask because … I wanted you to figure it out. To know me well enough that you could tell when I was liking stuff – to know which way to go.”
“If only you had asked ...”
“But you did figure it out, Reef. It just took a while.”
“I heard you say it.”
“Your brain heard me, not your ears.”
“Frank, I'm a scientist. I know real sound from imaginary.”
“Nothing imaginary about it. My body was begging you to fuck me. It was the first time you sensed it.”
Surreal would be putting it mildly. I lay my head on his chest and listened to him breath and felt his chest hair tickle my nose. I ran my hand across his belly and gently held his cock. It was limp and still wet. I smeared the cum around enjoying the feel of its slickness on the skin of Frank's cock. “You're still a little bit hard,” I told him.
“I love you, Refo.”
I sat up and looked him in the eye. “Did I imagine that, too?”
“No, I said it. Probably too soon, 'cause I have no idea where this is going. But you already know I love you, so it didn't hurt my chances, did it?”
“I don't think I know much at all, but I'm learning.” Frank seemed skeptical; I asked him, “You don't trust me?”
“Sure I trust you. But there was Lucas. Remember him? And Jawan. And who was the guy in San Francisco?”
“Carter. But they didn't matter ...”
“They did at the time.” He didn't rub my nose in it, but I had to admit he had a point. “And who's this new kid? The one who wants to move in with you?”
“Butch.”
“See? See what I mean? I trust you, but ...” He sighed. “Butch sounds cute.”
“He is. He's so hot it hurts your eyes to look at him.”
“You said that about Carter, if I recall ...”
“It's true. He's practically a porn star. But he's nothing like you, Frank. You're deep and you matter, and I know you want me to ... at least I think you want me to stick around.”
“Your pants are buzzing,” Frank noted. I made no move to answer the phone. “Go ahead and answer it. I want to watch you walk across the room naked.”
I felt self-conscious knowing his eyes were watching me. I tried to pull my stomach in, but that made the walk seem even more awkward. I pulled the phone out of my pocket and looked at the caller. “It's him,” I told Frank.
“So answer it.”
I set the phone to speaker and said, “Butch, what's up?”
“Where are you? I thought you'd be back by now.”
“Car died. I'm in Virginia.”
“I told you to get the timing checked. Didn't I tell you?”
“You did. So I have an offer of a ride back later tonight.”
“Or you could stay over,” Frank inserted.
“Who's that?” Butch asked.
“The owner of the air mattress you're sleeping on.”
“Hi, Frank,” Butch called out. Frank smiled at the recognition.
“Or I could stay over, and get my car fixed maybe tomorrow.”
“Or you could stay over and I could fix your car tomorrow,” Butch proposed. “I could get a fuel injection control module as soon as a dealer opens and install it. Won't take long.”
“How do you know that's what is wrong?”
“If it isn't, we can hold a funeral. It's probably not worth fixing if it isn't.” I gave him directions to Frank's and we figured he would get there around noon. “See you then, Reefer.”
“Refo,” I emphasized, but he was already gone. I walked back to the bed and crawled in. “It's ok if I stay?” Frank didn't answer, he just pulled me into a hug. I sighed, “That's a yes.”
“See, Reef? We don't need words.” Frank started doing stuff to me that he knew I really liked, stuff like squeezing my butt with both his hands. I like it firm but gentle. It helps if you kiss me a little; Frank had that figured out, too. And then he teased my nipples with his tongue. That always makes me want to get fucked. Frank was ready when I was.
“You sure have me figured out,” I told him.
“I don't. You're full of surprises all the time.”
Bull shit. He knew exactly what to do to make me want it. This time, I tried to remember what had worked so well – the things he had done to me. I tried to copy him. I used my thumbs and pressed on his pubic bone. He liked that, liked it a lot. I tried it with the palms of my hands. It made his thrusts erratic – that's how much he liked it. “I'm gonna cum,” he gasped, way before he usually got off from a blow job.”Refo!” He nearly strangled saying my name.
I love making guys cum. And watching them almost gets me off. Frank's face was the picture of a lost boy, bewildered by sensations, alive with hunger. He opened his eyes and I knew he loved me. For that moment I satisfied every need he ever knew. He told me with his body.
I waited for his first words. They took a while and then they came with an urgency. “Are you hungry? I'm starving!”
Mike and Charlie joined us at a barbeque place on the road to Woodstock. We ordered beers and read the menu quietly. The waitress came back to the table for our orders. She had a handkerchief embroidered 'Marla' pinned to her uniform over her left breast. I was dying to use Groucho Marx's joke, “Marla … that's a nice name. What do you call the other one?” Frank sensed this and poked me in the ribs; the last time I used the joke I would have got punched out by the waitress's boss if Frank hadn't been there.
We ordered and then Mike broke the silence. “Ever'body's so quiet you'd think we spent the whole afternoon fuckin'.”
Charlie was mortified but said nothing. I decided I really liked Mike. And Frank drawled, “From the looks of y'all, I'd say we did.” Mike grinned and I could see the family resemblance; I could see how adorable Frank must have been when he was younger. I looked again at his profile and decided I liked the way he looked now.
“Frank, you get more southern with the square of the distance from Washington,” I said to him.
“Just a hillbilly at heart,” he smiled.
“I'm a hillbilly all through,” Mike added.
“You are not. You're much brighter than you admit,” Charlie chastized.
“You don't have to be dumb to be a hillbilly. It's an attitude, not a SAT score,” Frank suggested.
“It's so redneck ...” Charlie dismissed the idea.
“Big difference between a redneck and a hillbilly. You don't appreciate the culture, Charlie.”
“Trailer parks and TV antennas four hundred feet high.”
“That's redneck. Hillbillies live in the woods like Mike and me and don't have televisions,” Frank explained.
“You don't? I've just been getting to like 'Devious Maids'.”
“God, Refo,” Charlie rolled his eyes. “How can you watch that trash?”
“It's funny. They're pretty. They have hot boyfriends. What more could you want?”
“See, now, that's redneck. Mike and I are hillbillies.” Frank squeezed my leg under the table.
The most unhealthy meal possible arrived. Everything was fried except the pork, which was swimming in a sugary sauce. And it tasted so good. I was starving and could have eaten the blue stripe design off the plate. Apple pie and ice cream for dessert completed the devastation of modern nutritional theory. We went out into the darkness of the parking lot.
“You ready, Refo? Before it gets any later ...” Charlie looked at his phone for the time and was impatient to get on the road back to Washington.
“Um, I'm going to stay at Frank's and get the car fixed in the morning.”
Mike's grin split his face. “Yes!” he said quietly.
“You approve?” I asked him.
“I told Frank you would! I just knew it!”
“Clairvoyance is another hillbilly skill,” Charlie teased dryly.
“So's fuckin',” Mike said and kissed Charlie with surprising passion considering we were in sight of the restaurant.
Charlie, dazed from the kiss, stalled his car on his first attempt to start it. He succeeded on the next try and headed northeast alone. The rest of us headed back toward Elkton. “Who's Butch?” Mike asked after I explained how I hoped to get my car fixed.
“A farm boy who's a porn star,” Frank added to my 'farm boy from Delaware' answer..
“A porn star … no shit? I never met a porn star.” Mike was intrigued.
“A porn star who can fix Mazdas, I hope.”
“You gotta get a truck, Refo. They make more sense,” Mike said. Frank said nothing, he just put his arm around me and gave me a reassuring squeeze.
Rory,
This was a great, fun chapter. The could-be-awkward discussion in the bed, followed by the ravenous energy loading at the restaurant/conversation. Oh, yeah, and the sex wasn't bad, either, lol.
This was a great, fun chapter. The could-be-awkward discussion in the bed, followed by the ravenous energy loading at the restaurant/conversation. Oh, yeah, and the sex wasn't bad, either, lol.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
I'm having fun with this story. Can't you tell? 
It's already much longer than I had planned to make it.
It's already much longer than I had planned to make it.
I'm glad you're having fun writing it - we're having a lot of fun READING it.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The clatter of Butch's diesel woke me. I jumped out of bed, shocked that it was ten-thirty. Butch was early and I was late. In the bathroom I tried to wipe away the remnants of last night's sex with Frank. Our late session had been abbreviated, one of the disadvantages of being thirty.
Much as I would like to go all night, that's just not one of life's possibilities any more. After our afternoon delights, the night consisted of a lot of almost-sex, by which I mean no sex. We tried a lot of things and in fact did a lot, but only Frank came. And even that was involuntary, or maybe unplanned is a better word. We were messing around with each other, neither one of us super hard, just at that feels-really-good-without-thrusting stage, wanting more, but satisfied with what was going on. He spread his legs to let me play with his asshole. I kissed him in a way that was my attempt to say I love you and at the same time pushed my finger into his hole. Kablooey! With no warning, he came all over - all over me, actually. He was so embarrassed about it. Even without that surprise, it was a great night for just feeling good with each other. I still felt the glow in the morning.
Frank and Mike were in the barn workroom cutting and turning some bannister posts to imitate an older style and talking to Butch. As I arrived Frank said, “Sure, we can push the Mazda into the shade of the barn.”
“I can help,” I offered.
“Sleeping beauty!” Frank called out. He let the other two walk ahead and gave me a kiss. “You smell like last night's sex.”
“I need a shower. I wanted to see Butch first.”
“I like the way you smell.” He kissed the side of my face before we walked out into the yard. I think we had the look of lovers. I know I sure didn't try to hide it. Mike and Butch politely pretended not to notice, but I caught Mike's wink at Frank.
We got the car moved easily enough. In the process, there was some discussion of the car. Its chief disadvantage seemed to be that it wasn't a pick up. The tires were getting to the end of their useful lives. The left rear window didn't open.
“It does open. I can get it to go down. It's just that I can't get it to go up again … easily.” I tried to defend the honor of the Mazda.
“Refo, spend some money and get something else.” Butch hooked a charger up to my dead battery.
“It's not that easy. Washington presents special problems. Cars are not respected. They get treated badly. Washington cars look ten years old after six months use. It's a waste of money to get a nice car …”
“Pickup,” Mike injected.
“... or pickup,” I concluded. “Plus the traffic sucks 24/7. You want an old car that can take the punishment.”
“Well, this one can't for much longer,” Butch said.
“Thank you, Doctor Death.”
“Seriously, Reef. I'll help you find another one.” Butch raised the hood and Mike and Frank went back to the workroom, leaving me feeling useless.
I called Sarah Felsen to explain my absence and got a distinct brushoff. “Ok, I'll tell the front office. Gotta go. Lucien is showing me some new techniques with the inverted microscope.”
“You won't miss me?”
“Get serious, Refo. Gotta go.”
I did take a shower and felt briefly refreshed until the heat of the day got to me. It got to everybody; but there were compensations. Oh, yes, I said to myself, when I saw Frank pull his shirt off. Camera time.
“Which is worse? The heat or the saw dust?“ Mike asked no one in particular as he tried without success to brush wood shavings off his sweaty chest.
I took a bunch of shots in the workroom. The Pierce cousins were looking good that day and the light was perfect, casting distinct shadows while reflecting off the old wood of the walls working like a light diffuser. Frank chuckled as I pulled up his underwear a little.
“Can't see enough of the waistband,” I explained.
“Pervert,” he said with a smile.
Mike didn't need my help. Barely stopping work, he loosened his belt a notch and shook his torso a little. Perfect. The Wranglers sagged and the silver gray band saying Andrew Christian appeared over the black knit of boxer briefs. I clicked away. “We can put these in a brochure advertising your business.”
“And get arrested for porn,” Frank commented.
“Not. These are going to look great. Very professional. And just a little hot. Won't hurt with your female customers.” I snapped the lens cover on and went to see how my car was coming along.
The real porn was outside. Butch had his shirt off and was bent over the fender leaning into the engine compartment. Worn jeans perfectly displayed his ass. They rode low, low enough to make me think he wasn't wearing any underwear. I could almost see the start of his crack. Just tantalizing millimeters of modesty were provided by the snug jeans. I held my breath, which is great for taking pictures but not so great for maintaining consciousness. Eventually I gasped for air.
“What?” he asked without raising his head.
“How's it coming?”
“It's coming … A little trouble with the new gasket. It should be softer metal.” He turned to look at me and I snapped a shot. He smiled and stood up turning more toward me. A born showoff, he couldn't resist posing. His slightly hairy chest would look perfect in the shaded light. “Want me to strip?” he asked, sounding more than willing. He didn't wait for my answer. “Try starting it.” He stuck his head back under the hood.
I tried and the engine caught. I revved it a little.
“Pfuck!” came from under the hood.
I shut the engine down and got out. “Pfuck?”
Butch emerged from under the hood. “That's Delaware for 'Fuck'.”
“Let me get a towel.” He was peppered with dark motor oil.
“Make it a paper towel. You'll never get a cloth one clean again.”
Mike stuck his head out of the barn. “Pfuck?” Then, walking over to the car, he saw Butch and laughed. “I thought the P was silent.”
“Funny, huh?” Butch looked like a walking case of black measles. He extended his index finger and beeped the tip of Mike's nose.
Mike, not realizing his smiling face now included a clown-like black nose, stuck his head under the hood and commented, “We might could clean the spark plugs, while we're at it.”
“YOU 'might could' clean the spark plugs,” Butch retorted trying not to laugh at Mike's appearance.
I went for a paper towel and met Frank in the barn. “I'm going into town for some stuff. Will you be here when I get back?”
“Dunno. Butch is still working on the car. If he finishes, I really need to get to work.”
“You should have gone with Charlie last night.”
“Noooo, I should not have gone with Charlie.” I hugged Frank adding to my meaning and got a quick kiss for my trouble.
“What's wrong with Mike's nose?”
“They're just messing around. Go on to town. If I'm not here … when can I come back?”
“I'd be happier if you never left. Come back any time, Reef, the sooner the better.”
He started to go and then changed his mind, grabbing me again. He hugged me and I hoped he would never stop. My body fit beautifully against Frank's, all the right parts touching. I kissed his neck and felt the quickness of his response, the intake of breath, the pulse in his cock. His hands slid down to my ass and squeezed. For a minute I thought we were going to fuck on the spot. I'd havedone it, but again he changed his mind. “Hurry back,” he said and walked to his truck.
I returned a little breathless to my mechanics. “Here's a roll of paper towels, when you're ready.” I stifled a laugh. Mike looked cute enough to kiss with the smudge on his nose. I had to get the camera.
They worked and I took pictures until finally Butch said, “Ok, try it again.” The engine caught instantly and ran smoothly. The two stood back like proud parents as I revved it slightly and then let it idle, purring quietly.
“Can I wash up?” Butch asked.
“Sure,” I said. “The bathroom is ...”
“Can't go into Frank's new bathroom all greasy,” Mike said. “We'll use the rain barrel.” He pointed a small shed-like projection at a corner of the barn.
The rain barrel was more a sophisticated arrangement than the name implied. While it did use runoff water from the roof, it had a conventional shower head and a flash heater for cold days. I sat on the porch reviewing the pictures I had taken and listened to the boys talking.
“It's really pretty civilized,” Mike explained. “Here are the faucets and a mirror in case you want to shave and ...” He laughed. “So that's why you two were bustin' your britches.”
“It looks good. You should think about keeping the black nose. Start a trend ...”
“Mmmm … no, I don't think so. You can hang your clothes here ...” I heard the rustling of two pairs of jeans coming off and then a sharp exclamation from Butch.
“Dude …. is that your cock????”
“Duh ...” from Mike. “What else would you call it?”
“It's … fuckin' huge!” There was a pause. “Wait ... I'm sorry; I didn't mean to embarrass you.”
“So quit staring at it.”
“Yeah. Sure. Sorry. Uh, you know …?”
“What?”
“You could make a lot of money with that thing. My boss was saying just last week … you could make ten thousand for a weekend's work.”
“Really?” Mike sounded intrigued.
“Can you get it hard? Here, lemme help …”
“No, Butch. Wait.” I heard the splashes of shuffling feet.
“WHOA!” I couldn't tell who said that.
A cry of amazement? Delight? Shock? The ensuing silence was extended. I was dying to know what was going on, so tempted to have a look. Charlie had never said a word about Mike being anything exceptional. He would have told me. I'm pretty sure he would have.
Then I heard Butch distinctly. He yelled, “REFO! … COME HERE … BRING THE CAMERA!”
The clatter of Butch's diesel woke me. I jumped out of bed, shocked that it was ten-thirty. Butch was early and I was late. In the bathroom I tried to wipe away the remnants of last night's sex with Frank. Our late session had been abbreviated, one of the disadvantages of being thirty.
Much as I would like to go all night, that's just not one of life's possibilities any more. After our afternoon delights, the night consisted of a lot of almost-sex, by which I mean no sex. We tried a lot of things and in fact did a lot, but only Frank came. And even that was involuntary, or maybe unplanned is a better word. We were messing around with each other, neither one of us super hard, just at that feels-really-good-without-thrusting stage, wanting more, but satisfied with what was going on. He spread his legs to let me play with his asshole. I kissed him in a way that was my attempt to say I love you and at the same time pushed my finger into his hole. Kablooey! With no warning, he came all over - all over me, actually. He was so embarrassed about it. Even without that surprise, it was a great night for just feeling good with each other. I still felt the glow in the morning.
Frank and Mike were in the barn workroom cutting and turning some bannister posts to imitate an older style and talking to Butch. As I arrived Frank said, “Sure, we can push the Mazda into the shade of the barn.”
“I can help,” I offered.
“Sleeping beauty!” Frank called out. He let the other two walk ahead and gave me a kiss. “You smell like last night's sex.”
“I need a shower. I wanted to see Butch first.”
“I like the way you smell.” He kissed the side of my face before we walked out into the yard. I think we had the look of lovers. I know I sure didn't try to hide it. Mike and Butch politely pretended not to notice, but I caught Mike's wink at Frank.
We got the car moved easily enough. In the process, there was some discussion of the car. Its chief disadvantage seemed to be that it wasn't a pick up. The tires were getting to the end of their useful lives. The left rear window didn't open.
“It does open. I can get it to go down. It's just that I can't get it to go up again … easily.” I tried to defend the honor of the Mazda.
“Refo, spend some money and get something else.” Butch hooked a charger up to my dead battery.
“It's not that easy. Washington presents special problems. Cars are not respected. They get treated badly. Washington cars look ten years old after six months use. It's a waste of money to get a nice car …”
“Pickup,” Mike injected.
“... or pickup,” I concluded. “Plus the traffic sucks 24/7. You want an old car that can take the punishment.”
“Well, this one can't for much longer,” Butch said.
“Thank you, Doctor Death.”
“Seriously, Reef. I'll help you find another one.” Butch raised the hood and Mike and Frank went back to the workroom, leaving me feeling useless.
I called Sarah Felsen to explain my absence and got a distinct brushoff. “Ok, I'll tell the front office. Gotta go. Lucien is showing me some new techniques with the inverted microscope.”
“You won't miss me?”
“Get serious, Refo. Gotta go.”
I did take a shower and felt briefly refreshed until the heat of the day got to me. It got to everybody; but there were compensations. Oh, yes, I said to myself, when I saw Frank pull his shirt off. Camera time.
“Which is worse? The heat or the saw dust?“ Mike asked no one in particular as he tried without success to brush wood shavings off his sweaty chest.
I took a bunch of shots in the workroom. The Pierce cousins were looking good that day and the light was perfect, casting distinct shadows while reflecting off the old wood of the walls working like a light diffuser. Frank chuckled as I pulled up his underwear a little.
“Can't see enough of the waistband,” I explained.
“Pervert,” he said with a smile.
Mike didn't need my help. Barely stopping work, he loosened his belt a notch and shook his torso a little. Perfect. The Wranglers sagged and the silver gray band saying Andrew Christian appeared over the black knit of boxer briefs. I clicked away. “We can put these in a brochure advertising your business.”
“And get arrested for porn,” Frank commented.
“Not. These are going to look great. Very professional. And just a little hot. Won't hurt with your female customers.” I snapped the lens cover on and went to see how my car was coming along.
The real porn was outside. Butch had his shirt off and was bent over the fender leaning into the engine compartment. Worn jeans perfectly displayed his ass. They rode low, low enough to make me think he wasn't wearing any underwear. I could almost see the start of his crack. Just tantalizing millimeters of modesty were provided by the snug jeans. I held my breath, which is great for taking pictures but not so great for maintaining consciousness. Eventually I gasped for air.
“What?” he asked without raising his head.
“How's it coming?”
“It's coming … A little trouble with the new gasket. It should be softer metal.” He turned to look at me and I snapped a shot. He smiled and stood up turning more toward me. A born showoff, he couldn't resist posing. His slightly hairy chest would look perfect in the shaded light. “Want me to strip?” he asked, sounding more than willing. He didn't wait for my answer. “Try starting it.” He stuck his head back under the hood.
I tried and the engine caught. I revved it a little.
“Pfuck!” came from under the hood.
I shut the engine down and got out. “Pfuck?”
Butch emerged from under the hood. “That's Delaware for 'Fuck'.”
“Let me get a towel.” He was peppered with dark motor oil.
“Make it a paper towel. You'll never get a cloth one clean again.”
Mike stuck his head out of the barn. “Pfuck?” Then, walking over to the car, he saw Butch and laughed. “I thought the P was silent.”
“Funny, huh?” Butch looked like a walking case of black measles. He extended his index finger and beeped the tip of Mike's nose.
Mike, not realizing his smiling face now included a clown-like black nose, stuck his head under the hood and commented, “We might could clean the spark plugs, while we're at it.”
“YOU 'might could' clean the spark plugs,” Butch retorted trying not to laugh at Mike's appearance.
I went for a paper towel and met Frank in the barn. “I'm going into town for some stuff. Will you be here when I get back?”
“Dunno. Butch is still working on the car. If he finishes, I really need to get to work.”
“You should have gone with Charlie last night.”
“Noooo, I should not have gone with Charlie.” I hugged Frank adding to my meaning and got a quick kiss for my trouble.
“What's wrong with Mike's nose?”
“They're just messing around. Go on to town. If I'm not here … when can I come back?”
“I'd be happier if you never left. Come back any time, Reef, the sooner the better.”
He started to go and then changed his mind, grabbing me again. He hugged me and I hoped he would never stop. My body fit beautifully against Frank's, all the right parts touching. I kissed his neck and felt the quickness of his response, the intake of breath, the pulse in his cock. His hands slid down to my ass and squeezed. For a minute I thought we were going to fuck on the spot. I'd havedone it, but again he changed his mind. “Hurry back,” he said and walked to his truck.
I returned a little breathless to my mechanics. “Here's a roll of paper towels, when you're ready.” I stifled a laugh. Mike looked cute enough to kiss with the smudge on his nose. I had to get the camera.
They worked and I took pictures until finally Butch said, “Ok, try it again.” The engine caught instantly and ran smoothly. The two stood back like proud parents as I revved it slightly and then let it idle, purring quietly.
“Can I wash up?” Butch asked.
“Sure,” I said. “The bathroom is ...”
“Can't go into Frank's new bathroom all greasy,” Mike said. “We'll use the rain barrel.” He pointed a small shed-like projection at a corner of the barn.
The rain barrel was more a sophisticated arrangement than the name implied. While it did use runoff water from the roof, it had a conventional shower head and a flash heater for cold days. I sat on the porch reviewing the pictures I had taken and listened to the boys talking.
“It's really pretty civilized,” Mike explained. “Here are the faucets and a mirror in case you want to shave and ...” He laughed. “So that's why you two were bustin' your britches.”
“It looks good. You should think about keeping the black nose. Start a trend ...”
“Mmmm … no, I don't think so. You can hang your clothes here ...” I heard the rustling of two pairs of jeans coming off and then a sharp exclamation from Butch.
“Dude …. is that your cock????”
“Duh ...” from Mike. “What else would you call it?”
“It's … fuckin' huge!” There was a pause. “Wait ... I'm sorry; I didn't mean to embarrass you.”
“So quit staring at it.”
“Yeah. Sure. Sorry. Uh, you know …?”
“What?”
“You could make a lot of money with that thing. My boss was saying just last week … you could make ten thousand for a weekend's work.”
“Really?” Mike sounded intrigued.
“Can you get it hard? Here, lemme help …”
“No, Butch. Wait.” I heard the splashes of shuffling feet.
“WHOA!” I couldn't tell who said that.
A cry of amazement? Delight? Shock? The ensuing silence was extended. I was dying to know what was going on, so tempted to have a look. Charlie had never said a word about Mike being anything exceptional. He would have told me. I'm pretty sure he would have.
Then I heard Butch distinctly. He yelled, “REFO! … COME HERE … BRING THE CAMERA!”
To quote George Takei, "Oh Myyyy!" lol
I'm loving life in farm country, too.
I'm loving life in farm country, too.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Thirty
It seems to me that displaying your erection to someone you do not intend to have sex with should be a personal decision. In Mike's case, he didn't seem to mind having Butch as a witness, but seeing me walk in with a camera at the ready, he got shy and didn't appreciate Butch's stage direction.
“Hold still, Mike. This will only take a second,” Butch encouraged. With the shower still running, he had one arm around Mike's shoulders and one hand holding his cock straight out - more or less in my direction.“Hurry up, Refo. Shoot it.”
“Ok, Mike?” I asked.
“Fuck no!” Mike slipped out of Butch's grip and turned away from me. The shower area was fairly dark, lighted only by vents to the outside at roof level and my eyes hadn't adjusted from the outside sunshine, but from what I briefly witnessed, Mike was a very well endowed young man, not a freak show candidate, but still impressive. Alright, very impressive. I went back to the porch, but kept the camera at my side.
“What's to be afraid of?” I overheard Butch ask.
“I'm not 'afraid' of anything. I just … I've never ...”
“Yeah, it takes a little getting used to, but then it gets easier.”
“But putting it out there for all the world to see … I don't know if I could ...”
“In your case, it would be for all the world to envy. This thing of yours is something to be proud of – not something to hide.”
“Do you have to keep touching it?”
“I'm just judging camera angles and stuff, not trying anything else. What do you think I am?”
“A gay porn star.”
“Mike, outside of one weekend at the studio, I've had sex with exactly three guys in my whole life. And two of those were for training reasons, before I went to the studio. You know, so I wouldn't be surprised by anything.”
Mike sounded somewhat reassured. “So quit touching me. And who was the third guy anyway? Pass me the soap.”
“My mother's boyfriend used to suck me off when I was younger. Is there any shampoo in here. Other than that, I'm totally straight.”
“So how come you got hard when I did?”
“Sympathetic reaction. That's all. You're a nice looking guy. Nothing wrong with that.”
Is this what young guys tell themselves? Sympathetic reaction? I tried to put myself in Butch's position. But that's impossible. I'm gay. Always have been. I have no idea how this stuff processes in a straight guy's head; but I don't think it comes out exactly the way Butch said.
“I thought I was straight. I mean I never really thought about it at all until Charlie came along.”
“Charlie turned you gay?”
“I don't know. He's the only person I've ever had sex with. All I know is I like having sex. I tried with girls, but I didn't get anywhere. They weren't interested. I wasn't the most popular guy in school.”
“You don't have to be popular. You just need confidence. I had a ton of girls. Getting sex was easy, enjoying it was the hard part.”
“You're still hard.”
Butch laughed. “So are you. Getting over your stage fright?”
I heard the water stop running. The two boys came out of the shed wrapped in towels and stood in the sun. I didn't want to creep them out so I took the camera and went inside.
“See that. We scared Refo away,” Butch commented.
“What are you looking at?” Mike asked.
“You. I met a guy at the studio, one of the actors, who's a hair dresser in Washington. He's gonna cut my hair. Want to come along? He'll give you a really good haircut.”
“I dunno … I ...”
“I'll tell you the truth – I'd like it if you did. He won't try anything with me if you're along.”
“You need a body guard?”
“No, but I just don't want things to get messy. He's really a good barber and I'd like to keep it at that. Come on. What have you got to lose?”
“Washington makes me … all those people … Ah, what the hell, ok, I guess,” Mike consented.
They dried in the sun and, yeah, I watched them get dressed. I knew Butch's body would be nice, but Mike's was a revelation. Deflated, his cock was nice, not huge, just nice, and his body was muscular and toned. I could not understand his problem with girls, if I knew anything at all about girls. His only problem was a farmer's tan, but that could be fixed in a couple of hours.
I gave them a head start and then followed on the road to town. I didn't get to work until two in the afternoon. Sarah Felsen sat reading a manual of some kind and didn't notice my arrival.
“HELLO!” I repeated.
She startled. “Oh, Refo … You're back.”
“Car is fixed. Runs better than ever. You're looking healthy.”
“Really? You sound surprised.”
“I have no idea how long morning sickness lasts.”
“I didn't have morning sickness. It was psychosomatic, I think.”
I looked at her manual. “Wow! 'Getting the Most out of Your Olympus CK Inverted Tissue Culture Microscope.' That must be exciting reading.”
“It is. Lucien showed me some things it can do that I never knew about. I think we can do more of our own tissue culture assays and not have to send stuff out all the time. It should speed things up and save some money.”
“Lucien, huh?” I teased and she actually blushed.
“There are some messages for you on your desk,” she said to change the subject.
One message was from Carter, one was from a salesman for reagents that I no longer used, and one, from only an hour earlier, was from Frank. I called him immediately.
“Where's Mike? He's not answering his cell.”
“Oh, he and Butch went for haircuts.”
“Where'd they go? He should be back by now.”
“Arlington, I think. Butch knows a guy ...”
“Huh. Alright, I guess.” Frank's tone lightened. “You left your camera. I guess you'll need to come and get it,” he teased playfully.
“Or you could bring in to town tonight. I hope. Could you? And stay with me?”
“Sure if you really need it.”
“I really need you,” I whispered so Sarah couldn't hear me. I checked but she never lifted her nose from the Olympus manual.
“Reef, I will if you want, but could you really need me tomorrow? I have an early appointment near Warrenton. I'd never make it from DC.”
Ten years ago, I'd have dumped everything and met him anywhere. Maturity or senescence or something had made me understanding of Frank's problem. We agreed on the next day.
I decided I could ignore the salesman. Carter was next. “Carter Guerin, please,” I asked whoever answered the number.
“Carter, phone!” I heard the voice call out. A muffled conversation followed before the voice came back. “He's out of town. Be back Friday, maybe, we think.”
The rest of the day dragged. Sarah Felsen left early for an appointment with her doctor and my tissue culture results were murky. The results weren't clustered either within expected ranges nor markedly out of them; they were scattered all over the place, which made me think the sample was contaminated or the reagents were weak. And there was no one around to confer with, except for one postdoc and I didn't feel like admitting to him that I was having trouble.
Working with mice was my problem. I should work with cows or sheep, something edible. If the experiment goes bad, at least I'd still have a chop to take home for dinner. A lab on the seventh floor worked with lobsters for a few years and the entire seventh floor still smells like butter. Another place worked with freshly killed turkeys. All they needed was the gizzard. They ate the rest. Thinking about food made my stomach rumble, a conclusion which is not scientific at all, just human. I walked to the coffee machine. Maybe it was time to try something exotic, like a hazelnut-vanilla double espresso.
“Don't do it!” My finger hesitated slightly over the button but the cry had come too late. “I told you not to.” Lucien sympathized as we watched the coffee machine pour my drink directly down its drain. “I think its the sugary flavors that do it. The sugar must gum up the cup dispensing machinery. I add my own sugar once I have the drink to hand.”
“In hand, I think we say.”
“Sometimes you say 'to hand',” Lucien noted.
“Sometimes we say 'Fuck You!' ” I kicked the machine and a cup fell into place, but no coffee followed.
“Ah, Refo … speaking of that, Sarah Felsen I think wants me to fuck her. Is that ok?”
“Sure. It's only very late in the pregnancy, when you might put little dents in the kid's skull, that it's not ok.”
“That's not true!” Lucien was appalled. “Oh … You're joking ... No, I meant is it ok with you. I know you're going to marry Sarah, but she said you wouldn't mind ...”
“Lucien, what do you know about tissue culture? I could use some help.”
He was a good teacher and showed me things I was doing that weren't actually wrong, but could be improved. At one point I became aware of his hand on my shoulder, but I put that out of my head and concentrated on focal lengths and stage placement. It was seven o'clock before I knew it. “Lucien, are you driving back to Baltimore tonight? Do you need a place to stay?”
He said no, but suggested dinner at a place he had found where the chef was Swiss. He waved away the menu and told the waiter that we would have “whatever Rudi is making tonight”. Rudi made a version of sauerbraten that was served with apple wine. After a couple of glasses I had trouble pronouncing 'apfelwein'; my tongue seemed a little numb. Lucien said it was also called 'must' in Switzerland and that was easier to say. The more we drank the better Lucien looked. I wasn't deeply interested, but I could see his appeal. His voice was soothing and had an intimate quality. His hands were very handsome; I could sense the warmth of his touch. The meal ended and I wondered what would come next. I didn't seriously want to take him home, but if the opportunity came along, he would be hard to resist.
“So, I must meet Sarah, now,” he said. We left the restaurant with a handshake and a promise to 'do this again some time'. I got home nicely buzzed from the wine and ready for bed. While I was brushing my teeth I heard them come in.
“Refo, look at Mike! Isn't he awesome?” Butch sounded like a proud papa.
He was. I had no idea a haircut could transform a person's looks so completely. Mike now looked like those models in ads for very expensive things, things like sports cars that cost six figures. I said so. Mike might have blushed at my comment but I couldn't tell because of the bronzer he was wearing.
“He got a makeover,” Butch explained. “Top to bottom.”
“They ever cut my toe nails,” Mike said.
“And trimmed his pubes!” Butch added. That remark made Mike's blush visible in spite of the bronzer. “He's gonna be the hottest porn star ever. You should see him naked!”
“Why not?” Mike groaned. “Everybody else has today.”
“So, Refo, um … I explained how you helped, um, train me, so to speak. And I was wondering ...” None of us noticed the door open. “I was wondering if you would fuck him?”
Mike was unprepared for Butch's request. “What??”
“I'm not gonna fuck him!” I was adamant.
“I will.”
We turned in shock to the door.
“Now, which one is 'him'? Refo, is it ok if I stay tonight?” Carter looked from Butch to Mike and back.
The confusion didn't last long. I made introductions. “Nobody's fucking anybody. You,” I pointed to Mike. “... will sleep on the sofa. You, Butch, will sleep on the air mattress. And you, Carter, will sleep as far away from me as my king size bed will allow.”
I was tired and ready for bed; so that's what I did. Sleep felt great. Refreshed, I woke up and looked around. Some general I would make. Nobody had complied with my sleeping assignments.
It seems to me that displaying your erection to someone you do not intend to have sex with should be a personal decision. In Mike's case, he didn't seem to mind having Butch as a witness, but seeing me walk in with a camera at the ready, he got shy and didn't appreciate Butch's stage direction.
“Hold still, Mike. This will only take a second,” Butch encouraged. With the shower still running, he had one arm around Mike's shoulders and one hand holding his cock straight out - more or less in my direction.“Hurry up, Refo. Shoot it.”
“Ok, Mike?” I asked.
“Fuck no!” Mike slipped out of Butch's grip and turned away from me. The shower area was fairly dark, lighted only by vents to the outside at roof level and my eyes hadn't adjusted from the outside sunshine, but from what I briefly witnessed, Mike was a very well endowed young man, not a freak show candidate, but still impressive. Alright, very impressive. I went back to the porch, but kept the camera at my side.
“What's to be afraid of?” I overheard Butch ask.
“I'm not 'afraid' of anything. I just … I've never ...”
“Yeah, it takes a little getting used to, but then it gets easier.”
“But putting it out there for all the world to see … I don't know if I could ...”
“In your case, it would be for all the world to envy. This thing of yours is something to be proud of – not something to hide.”
“Do you have to keep touching it?”
“I'm just judging camera angles and stuff, not trying anything else. What do you think I am?”
“A gay porn star.”
“Mike, outside of one weekend at the studio, I've had sex with exactly three guys in my whole life. And two of those were for training reasons, before I went to the studio. You know, so I wouldn't be surprised by anything.”
Mike sounded somewhat reassured. “So quit touching me. And who was the third guy anyway? Pass me the soap.”
“My mother's boyfriend used to suck me off when I was younger. Is there any shampoo in here. Other than that, I'm totally straight.”
“So how come you got hard when I did?”
“Sympathetic reaction. That's all. You're a nice looking guy. Nothing wrong with that.”
Is this what young guys tell themselves? Sympathetic reaction? I tried to put myself in Butch's position. But that's impossible. I'm gay. Always have been. I have no idea how this stuff processes in a straight guy's head; but I don't think it comes out exactly the way Butch said.
“I thought I was straight. I mean I never really thought about it at all until Charlie came along.”
“Charlie turned you gay?”
“I don't know. He's the only person I've ever had sex with. All I know is I like having sex. I tried with girls, but I didn't get anywhere. They weren't interested. I wasn't the most popular guy in school.”
“You don't have to be popular. You just need confidence. I had a ton of girls. Getting sex was easy, enjoying it was the hard part.”
“You're still hard.”
Butch laughed. “So are you. Getting over your stage fright?”
I heard the water stop running. The two boys came out of the shed wrapped in towels and stood in the sun. I didn't want to creep them out so I took the camera and went inside.
“See that. We scared Refo away,” Butch commented.
“What are you looking at?” Mike asked.
“You. I met a guy at the studio, one of the actors, who's a hair dresser in Washington. He's gonna cut my hair. Want to come along? He'll give you a really good haircut.”
“I dunno … I ...”
“I'll tell you the truth – I'd like it if you did. He won't try anything with me if you're along.”
“You need a body guard?”
“No, but I just don't want things to get messy. He's really a good barber and I'd like to keep it at that. Come on. What have you got to lose?”
“Washington makes me … all those people … Ah, what the hell, ok, I guess,” Mike consented.
They dried in the sun and, yeah, I watched them get dressed. I knew Butch's body would be nice, but Mike's was a revelation. Deflated, his cock was nice, not huge, just nice, and his body was muscular and toned. I could not understand his problem with girls, if I knew anything at all about girls. His only problem was a farmer's tan, but that could be fixed in a couple of hours.
I gave them a head start and then followed on the road to town. I didn't get to work until two in the afternoon. Sarah Felsen sat reading a manual of some kind and didn't notice my arrival.
“HELLO!” I repeated.
She startled. “Oh, Refo … You're back.”
“Car is fixed. Runs better than ever. You're looking healthy.”
“Really? You sound surprised.”
“I have no idea how long morning sickness lasts.”
“I didn't have morning sickness. It was psychosomatic, I think.”
I looked at her manual. “Wow! 'Getting the Most out of Your Olympus CK Inverted Tissue Culture Microscope.' That must be exciting reading.”
“It is. Lucien showed me some things it can do that I never knew about. I think we can do more of our own tissue culture assays and not have to send stuff out all the time. It should speed things up and save some money.”
“Lucien, huh?” I teased and she actually blushed.
“There are some messages for you on your desk,” she said to change the subject.
One message was from Carter, one was from a salesman for reagents that I no longer used, and one, from only an hour earlier, was from Frank. I called him immediately.
“Where's Mike? He's not answering his cell.”
“Oh, he and Butch went for haircuts.”
“Where'd they go? He should be back by now.”
“Arlington, I think. Butch knows a guy ...”
“Huh. Alright, I guess.” Frank's tone lightened. “You left your camera. I guess you'll need to come and get it,” he teased playfully.
“Or you could bring in to town tonight. I hope. Could you? And stay with me?”
“Sure if you really need it.”
“I really need you,” I whispered so Sarah couldn't hear me. I checked but she never lifted her nose from the Olympus manual.
“Reef, I will if you want, but could you really need me tomorrow? I have an early appointment near Warrenton. I'd never make it from DC.”
Ten years ago, I'd have dumped everything and met him anywhere. Maturity or senescence or something had made me understanding of Frank's problem. We agreed on the next day.
I decided I could ignore the salesman. Carter was next. “Carter Guerin, please,” I asked whoever answered the number.
“Carter, phone!” I heard the voice call out. A muffled conversation followed before the voice came back. “He's out of town. Be back Friday, maybe, we think.”
The rest of the day dragged. Sarah Felsen left early for an appointment with her doctor and my tissue culture results were murky. The results weren't clustered either within expected ranges nor markedly out of them; they were scattered all over the place, which made me think the sample was contaminated or the reagents were weak. And there was no one around to confer with, except for one postdoc and I didn't feel like admitting to him that I was having trouble.
Working with mice was my problem. I should work with cows or sheep, something edible. If the experiment goes bad, at least I'd still have a chop to take home for dinner. A lab on the seventh floor worked with lobsters for a few years and the entire seventh floor still smells like butter. Another place worked with freshly killed turkeys. All they needed was the gizzard. They ate the rest. Thinking about food made my stomach rumble, a conclusion which is not scientific at all, just human. I walked to the coffee machine. Maybe it was time to try something exotic, like a hazelnut-vanilla double espresso.
“Don't do it!” My finger hesitated slightly over the button but the cry had come too late. “I told you not to.” Lucien sympathized as we watched the coffee machine pour my drink directly down its drain. “I think its the sugary flavors that do it. The sugar must gum up the cup dispensing machinery. I add my own sugar once I have the drink to hand.”
“In hand, I think we say.”
“Sometimes you say 'to hand',” Lucien noted.
“Sometimes we say 'Fuck You!' ” I kicked the machine and a cup fell into place, but no coffee followed.
“Ah, Refo … speaking of that, Sarah Felsen I think wants me to fuck her. Is that ok?”
“Sure. It's only very late in the pregnancy, when you might put little dents in the kid's skull, that it's not ok.”
“That's not true!” Lucien was appalled. “Oh … You're joking ... No, I meant is it ok with you. I know you're going to marry Sarah, but she said you wouldn't mind ...”
“Lucien, what do you know about tissue culture? I could use some help.”
He was a good teacher and showed me things I was doing that weren't actually wrong, but could be improved. At one point I became aware of his hand on my shoulder, but I put that out of my head and concentrated on focal lengths and stage placement. It was seven o'clock before I knew it. “Lucien, are you driving back to Baltimore tonight? Do you need a place to stay?”
He said no, but suggested dinner at a place he had found where the chef was Swiss. He waved away the menu and told the waiter that we would have “whatever Rudi is making tonight”. Rudi made a version of sauerbraten that was served with apple wine. After a couple of glasses I had trouble pronouncing 'apfelwein'; my tongue seemed a little numb. Lucien said it was also called 'must' in Switzerland and that was easier to say. The more we drank the better Lucien looked. I wasn't deeply interested, but I could see his appeal. His voice was soothing and had an intimate quality. His hands were very handsome; I could sense the warmth of his touch. The meal ended and I wondered what would come next. I didn't seriously want to take him home, but if the opportunity came along, he would be hard to resist.
“So, I must meet Sarah, now,” he said. We left the restaurant with a handshake and a promise to 'do this again some time'. I got home nicely buzzed from the wine and ready for bed. While I was brushing my teeth I heard them come in.
“Refo, look at Mike! Isn't he awesome?” Butch sounded like a proud papa.
He was. I had no idea a haircut could transform a person's looks so completely. Mike now looked like those models in ads for very expensive things, things like sports cars that cost six figures. I said so. Mike might have blushed at my comment but I couldn't tell because of the bronzer he was wearing.
“He got a makeover,” Butch explained. “Top to bottom.”
“They ever cut my toe nails,” Mike said.
“And trimmed his pubes!” Butch added. That remark made Mike's blush visible in spite of the bronzer. “He's gonna be the hottest porn star ever. You should see him naked!”
“Why not?” Mike groaned. “Everybody else has today.”
“So, Refo, um … I explained how you helped, um, train me, so to speak. And I was wondering ...” None of us noticed the door open. “I was wondering if you would fuck him?”
Mike was unprepared for Butch's request. “What??”
“I'm not gonna fuck him!” I was adamant.
“I will.”
We turned in shock to the door.
“Now, which one is 'him'? Refo, is it ok if I stay tonight?” Carter looked from Butch to Mike and back.
The confusion didn't last long. I made introductions. “Nobody's fucking anybody. You,” I pointed to Mike. “... will sleep on the sofa. You, Butch, will sleep on the air mattress. And you, Carter, will sleep as far away from me as my king size bed will allow.”
I was tired and ready for bed; so that's what I did. Sleep felt great. Refreshed, I woke up and looked around. Some general I would make. Nobody had complied with my sleeping assignments.
Hmmm, did we have a mena'ge a trois on the air mattress?
A lovely convoluted chapter of muddled brain.
A lovely convoluted chapter of muddled brain.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Thirty-One
I woke and found Mike in my bed, sleeping as far from me as the mattress would allow. As far as I could tell nothing other than sleep had occurred. He did look cute, though. All he needed was a teddy bear to hug; that picture would make you want to take him home. No wonder Charlie was nuts about him.
The picture in the living room was different. Butch and Carter were tangled up together on the air mattress. Unlike Mike in his t-shirt and shorts, they were naked and wrapped around each other. As I walked past, Butch looked up at me and winked. He mouthed the word “Morning”, closed his eyes again and tugged at a blanket to cover up their nudity. So they fucked or something. Against my orders. Oh, well, the sun rose on time anyway and I'm not their Den Mother.
It was six-thirty in the morning and I was looking forward to my easy AM routine, getting dressed, sipping a coffee, maybe having some toast, and ambling off to work by eight. Events told me that wasn't how the morning would play out, though. I heard Butch whispering into his phone, ending with “Come on up.” He opened the front door and said, “Shhhh!” to whoever entered.
Whoever entered exclaimed, “Girlfriend, what are all these naked bodies lying around! Most people just keep a cat!”
“SHHHH!' louder from Butch.
“The one in the bedroom has a t-shirt on. Where's the fun in that! The dick sticking out of his shorts looks familiar. Is that Mike?”
“Laurie, shut up!”
I answered my phone. It was Charlie asking where Mike was. “Here's here,” I said and watched the kitchen door open.
Whoever stuck his mop of curly red hair into the kitchen and said, “This one is cute, but he's fully clothed. Debbie Downer!' he said to me shaking his head sadly.
“Who's that?” demanded Charlie. “I'm coming over!”
“Might as well,” I said but he had already clicked off. I added more grounds to the coffee machine and hoped I had enough clean cups.
“Why aren't you packed?” Whoever, perhaps called Laurie, demanded.
“I'm packed,” Butch said. “This is Carter. Carter this is ...”
“Lawrence of the Watergate. You need a haircut. I'm available next Tuesday. Come as you are.”
“I'm naked,” Carter said.
“Duh!” Lawrence of the Watergate observed. He changed tones to one of adoration. “And sleeping beauty, my gorgeous Mikie, is up at last; but no wood. Pity. Gimme a hug. Have you seen his dick?” I guessed the question was addressed to Carter. The rest of us had been witnesses.
“Will everyone want coffee?” I asked the crowd.
“Do we have time?” Mike asked. He had put his clothes from last night back on.
“The plane isn't until nine-thirty ...” Butch noted.
“What plane?” Charlie and I asked simultaneously, me from the kitchen doorway, Charlie from the front door.
Mike didn't answer; he busied himself with an elaborate effort tying his shoes. Butch tried to look innocent as if he hadn't heard. Carter said, “I just got here; I'm not going anywhere.”
“We're going to 'The Porn Palace of Pembroke Pines, to make movies!” Lawrence of the Watergate announced. “Four glorious days of fuckin', suckin', felchin', frottin', and maybe a kiss or two if there's time.” That got him a glare from Mike.
Charlie looked as if somebody had slapped him. “Mike ...” was all he could say.
“Charlie, I was going to tell you,” Mike answered.
Everyone began talking at once, including Carter who was fascinated. “You have such interesting friends,” he said. “I don't know anybody like this in Cleveland.”
“I don't know anybody like this in Washington, except these four.”
“You can't ...” I heard Charlie say.
“Ten thousand for four days – maybe more,” Mike said.
“It's not bad,” Butch said. “And they're nice people … really.”
“I'll give you fifteen thousand not to go!” Charlie yelled.
“I gotta try it, Charlie. It's not the money so much. I just can't sit in Elkton all my life alone.”
“You could have me!” Charlie said. He was badly hurt by Mike's remark.
I thought the Watergate was in DC,” Carter said to Lawrence while looking at his business card. “This says Falls Church.”
“I used to be at the Watergate,” Lawrence sniffed.
“Goose said you once had tea at the Watergate,” Butch laughed.
“Who's Goose?” I asked.
“Mike … “ Charlie was close to tears.
“The camera man at the porn factory,” Butch said.
“Charlie … it's only four days,” Mike protested.
“Refo, you take good pictures. You should make porn,” Carter said.
“He does,” Butch agreed. “His pictures of me got me the job.”
“And I was afraid to let him shoot me naked,” Carter pretended to whine.
“Don't make it personal,” Butch advised. “Pretend Refo's part of the camera.”
“Four days? It's not the time. It's the sex,” Charlie was crying; it was pathetic. “What if you catch something?”
“Jeez! Nothing like this goes on in Cleveland!” Carter looked happier than I'd ever seen before.
“Aren't you gonna comment on his hair?” Lawrence asked Charlie. “I cut it yesterday. Thinned out the pubes, too. He's a fuzzy little cutie down there.”
I heard the gong on the coffee machine announce that it had successfully turned Washington's foul-smelling tap water into coffee. “Would anyone like some ...”
“Shut up!” Charlie's words made everyone shut up.
“ … like some coffee?” I ventured.
Charlie stalked into the bedroom slamming the door and the three porn employees got their stuff and left.
“Wow, and it's only ten after seven,” Carter noted. “I'd love some coffee. It was a frustrating night.”
“Really?”
“There I was, sleeping with this fabulous porn star and he wouldn't do anything. Had to save it for the studio, he claimed. Did you know they're supposed to stop having sex three days prior? So they can cum a lot, I guess. Butch wasn't sure why exactly. So last night was just a cuddle. This morning was exciting, though.”
“You get dressed,” I told my towel-clad visitor, “And I'll pour the coffee.”
Just as we sat down, Charlie emerged from the bedroom looking like shit. “Can I have a cup?” he asked in a little voice.
“Mike's your boyfriend?” Carter asked.
“Was my boyfriend, you mean.” Charlie sipped and then looked away from us trying to compose himself.
“Sorry ...” Carter mumbled.
“I just wanted a few years. I knew I couldn't keep him. I just wanted a couple more years of a hard dick in my bed. Somebody who ...” Charlie had to stop talking. “Before it's all over.”
“Charlie, you're not that old. Your life isn't over.” I tried to help.
“I'm forty in a year. I never was that good looking, but I tried to stay fit. Lately I'm barely doing that. I don't get admiring looks any more. I just wanted Mike for a little while longer. I knew it wouldn't last forever. But I'm not ready to settle down with television and online porn.” He coughed a few times to cover up a sob. “I'll probably end up watching Mike's porn.”
So that was pretty pathetic and I wanted to do more for Charlie. I hated to leave him, but work called. He walked out with us saying he was fine, which he wasn't; but I trusted Charlie to pull himself together. Mike wasn't his first broken heart and who said Mike wasn't coming back, anyway? Mike's departure wasn't anything final – just four days. Of course telling Charlie that didn't do any good, but I tried.
I took Carter onto the campus with me and he headed off to a branch of the Cancer Institute where he was finalizing a grant protocol. I redid my tissue culture and was pleased with the initial results. They needed more analysis, but at last I could see promise. Thanks to Lucien, I told myself. At three-thirty I decided I'd go to Frank's place. I called but he didn't pick up. I left him a voice mail and left work soon after.
Unwinding on the back roads, I got to Frank's at almost six and marveled at the quiet beauty of the place. The solitude and scenery were a perfect antidote to the drama of my morning. His truck was there. My spirits picked up at the sight of it. He must have heard me drive up because he came out just as I was parking. I got a huge smile, open arms, and a warm kiss.
“I'd have delivered the camera,” Frank said.
“I couldn't wait. I wanted to see you and I wanted to be here. And it will save you the trip ... And really I just wanted to see you.” I tugged at his shirt as we walked to a chair. “Finally I get to kiss my boyfriend at leisure … in private …”
“Yes, well ...” Frank let me kiss him; but there was something he wanted to say. There was also a distracting dripping.
“Is the shower leaking?” I asked him.
“No ...”
“Wow, that felt great!” Jody walked naked out of the shower with a towel slung over his shoulder. “What did I do with my clothes?” He saw me and in an unhurried manner fastened the towel around his waist. “Oops. Thought we were alone.”
I was stunned. My stomach knotted. In an instant I knew how Charlie had felt watching Mike leave him that morning.
“I threw them in the dryer. Have you met Refo?” Frank sounded unconcerned.
“Yes, in the store, right?” he nodded and approached for a fist bump. The gesture made his towel fall off. He picked it up and refastened it. He turned to sit in a nearby chair and it fell off again.
“Jody ...” Frank said with a complaint in his voice. “Refo's gonna get the wrong idea.”
Jody sat and placed the towel on his lap, covering most of the interesting parts. “Wouldn't want that to happen.” I couldn't detect a scintilla of sincerity in his tone.
“Refo came out from town to get his camera,” Frank explained - needlessly, I thought.
“All that way just for a camera,” Jody observed.
“It was a long trip … maybe I could go back in the morning?” I hinted to Frank.
“Of course,” Frank said with a smile. He got up leaving Jody and me pretending to enjoy the view not totally comfortable with each other. He returned with the camera. “Safe and secure,” he commented, giving it to me.
“Nice camera,” Jody noted; his interest in me changed. “What kind of pictures do you take?”
“Here we go ...” Frank said to nobody in particular.
“See, I was thinking, the light is nice right now ...”
“Did I mention Jody is an exhibitionist? You can hardly keep clothes on him,” Frank chuckled.
“... and I've always wanted to have some pictures of myself … nude maybe.”
Frank burst out laughing.
“So you might could take some?” Jody proposed.
Frank got up from his seat. “I'm gonna make us some drinks.” He shook his finger at Jody. “Don't you mess with my boyfriend.”
I love it when a cute guy says 'might could'. Plus, Jody was an interesting study. Hard and lean, basically, but with a vulnerability that comes after you've had a few hard knocks. And gentle eyes. And no shame whatsoever.
“Jody?” Frank demanded a response to his warning.
“Don't worry. He's totally into you, Frank. Even I can see that.”
“See, Refo, he lures people down to the river. And then the idea of skinny dipping just springs up … along with his cock ...”
“Frank,” Jody complained, “You're giving my secrets away.” He smiled at Frank and turned to me. “Really, Refo, the river bank is a nice quiet place for photography.”
I woke and found Mike in my bed, sleeping as far from me as the mattress would allow. As far as I could tell nothing other than sleep had occurred. He did look cute, though. All he needed was a teddy bear to hug; that picture would make you want to take him home. No wonder Charlie was nuts about him.
The picture in the living room was different. Butch and Carter were tangled up together on the air mattress. Unlike Mike in his t-shirt and shorts, they were naked and wrapped around each other. As I walked past, Butch looked up at me and winked. He mouthed the word “Morning”, closed his eyes again and tugged at a blanket to cover up their nudity. So they fucked or something. Against my orders. Oh, well, the sun rose on time anyway and I'm not their Den Mother.
It was six-thirty in the morning and I was looking forward to my easy AM routine, getting dressed, sipping a coffee, maybe having some toast, and ambling off to work by eight. Events told me that wasn't how the morning would play out, though. I heard Butch whispering into his phone, ending with “Come on up.” He opened the front door and said, “Shhhh!” to whoever entered.
Whoever entered exclaimed, “Girlfriend, what are all these naked bodies lying around! Most people just keep a cat!”
“SHHHH!' louder from Butch.
“The one in the bedroom has a t-shirt on. Where's the fun in that! The dick sticking out of his shorts looks familiar. Is that Mike?”
“Laurie, shut up!”
I answered my phone. It was Charlie asking where Mike was. “Here's here,” I said and watched the kitchen door open.
Whoever stuck his mop of curly red hair into the kitchen and said, “This one is cute, but he's fully clothed. Debbie Downer!' he said to me shaking his head sadly.
“Who's that?” demanded Charlie. “I'm coming over!”
“Might as well,” I said but he had already clicked off. I added more grounds to the coffee machine and hoped I had enough clean cups.
“Why aren't you packed?” Whoever, perhaps called Laurie, demanded.
“I'm packed,” Butch said. “This is Carter. Carter this is ...”
“Lawrence of the Watergate. You need a haircut. I'm available next Tuesday. Come as you are.”
“I'm naked,” Carter said.
“Duh!” Lawrence of the Watergate observed. He changed tones to one of adoration. “And sleeping beauty, my gorgeous Mikie, is up at last; but no wood. Pity. Gimme a hug. Have you seen his dick?” I guessed the question was addressed to Carter. The rest of us had been witnesses.
“Will everyone want coffee?” I asked the crowd.
“Do we have time?” Mike asked. He had put his clothes from last night back on.
“The plane isn't until nine-thirty ...” Butch noted.
“What plane?” Charlie and I asked simultaneously, me from the kitchen doorway, Charlie from the front door.
Mike didn't answer; he busied himself with an elaborate effort tying his shoes. Butch tried to look innocent as if he hadn't heard. Carter said, “I just got here; I'm not going anywhere.”
“We're going to 'The Porn Palace of Pembroke Pines, to make movies!” Lawrence of the Watergate announced. “Four glorious days of fuckin', suckin', felchin', frottin', and maybe a kiss or two if there's time.” That got him a glare from Mike.
Charlie looked as if somebody had slapped him. “Mike ...” was all he could say.
“Charlie, I was going to tell you,” Mike answered.
Everyone began talking at once, including Carter who was fascinated. “You have such interesting friends,” he said. “I don't know anybody like this in Cleveland.”
“I don't know anybody like this in Washington, except these four.”
“You can't ...” I heard Charlie say.
“Ten thousand for four days – maybe more,” Mike said.
“It's not bad,” Butch said. “And they're nice people … really.”
“I'll give you fifteen thousand not to go!” Charlie yelled.
“I gotta try it, Charlie. It's not the money so much. I just can't sit in Elkton all my life alone.”
“You could have me!” Charlie said. He was badly hurt by Mike's remark.
I thought the Watergate was in DC,” Carter said to Lawrence while looking at his business card. “This says Falls Church.”
“I used to be at the Watergate,” Lawrence sniffed.
“Goose said you once had tea at the Watergate,” Butch laughed.
“Who's Goose?” I asked.
“Mike … “ Charlie was close to tears.
“The camera man at the porn factory,” Butch said.
“Charlie … it's only four days,” Mike protested.
“Refo, you take good pictures. You should make porn,” Carter said.
“He does,” Butch agreed. “His pictures of me got me the job.”
“And I was afraid to let him shoot me naked,” Carter pretended to whine.
“Don't make it personal,” Butch advised. “Pretend Refo's part of the camera.”
“Four days? It's not the time. It's the sex,” Charlie was crying; it was pathetic. “What if you catch something?”
“Jeez! Nothing like this goes on in Cleveland!” Carter looked happier than I'd ever seen before.
“Aren't you gonna comment on his hair?” Lawrence asked Charlie. “I cut it yesterday. Thinned out the pubes, too. He's a fuzzy little cutie down there.”
I heard the gong on the coffee machine announce that it had successfully turned Washington's foul-smelling tap water into coffee. “Would anyone like some ...”
“Shut up!” Charlie's words made everyone shut up.
“ … like some coffee?” I ventured.
Charlie stalked into the bedroom slamming the door and the three porn employees got their stuff and left.
“Wow, and it's only ten after seven,” Carter noted. “I'd love some coffee. It was a frustrating night.”
“Really?”
“There I was, sleeping with this fabulous porn star and he wouldn't do anything. Had to save it for the studio, he claimed. Did you know they're supposed to stop having sex three days prior? So they can cum a lot, I guess. Butch wasn't sure why exactly. So last night was just a cuddle. This morning was exciting, though.”
“You get dressed,” I told my towel-clad visitor, “And I'll pour the coffee.”
Just as we sat down, Charlie emerged from the bedroom looking like shit. “Can I have a cup?” he asked in a little voice.
“Mike's your boyfriend?” Carter asked.
“Was my boyfriend, you mean.” Charlie sipped and then looked away from us trying to compose himself.
“Sorry ...” Carter mumbled.
“I just wanted a few years. I knew I couldn't keep him. I just wanted a couple more years of a hard dick in my bed. Somebody who ...” Charlie had to stop talking. “Before it's all over.”
“Charlie, you're not that old. Your life isn't over.” I tried to help.
“I'm forty in a year. I never was that good looking, but I tried to stay fit. Lately I'm barely doing that. I don't get admiring looks any more. I just wanted Mike for a little while longer. I knew it wouldn't last forever. But I'm not ready to settle down with television and online porn.” He coughed a few times to cover up a sob. “I'll probably end up watching Mike's porn.”
So that was pretty pathetic and I wanted to do more for Charlie. I hated to leave him, but work called. He walked out with us saying he was fine, which he wasn't; but I trusted Charlie to pull himself together. Mike wasn't his first broken heart and who said Mike wasn't coming back, anyway? Mike's departure wasn't anything final – just four days. Of course telling Charlie that didn't do any good, but I tried.
I took Carter onto the campus with me and he headed off to a branch of the Cancer Institute where he was finalizing a grant protocol. I redid my tissue culture and was pleased with the initial results. They needed more analysis, but at last I could see promise. Thanks to Lucien, I told myself. At three-thirty I decided I'd go to Frank's place. I called but he didn't pick up. I left him a voice mail and left work soon after.
Unwinding on the back roads, I got to Frank's at almost six and marveled at the quiet beauty of the place. The solitude and scenery were a perfect antidote to the drama of my morning. His truck was there. My spirits picked up at the sight of it. He must have heard me drive up because he came out just as I was parking. I got a huge smile, open arms, and a warm kiss.
“I'd have delivered the camera,” Frank said.
“I couldn't wait. I wanted to see you and I wanted to be here. And it will save you the trip ... And really I just wanted to see you.” I tugged at his shirt as we walked to a chair. “Finally I get to kiss my boyfriend at leisure … in private …”
“Yes, well ...” Frank let me kiss him; but there was something he wanted to say. There was also a distracting dripping.
“Is the shower leaking?” I asked him.
“No ...”
“Wow, that felt great!” Jody walked naked out of the shower with a towel slung over his shoulder. “What did I do with my clothes?” He saw me and in an unhurried manner fastened the towel around his waist. “Oops. Thought we were alone.”
I was stunned. My stomach knotted. In an instant I knew how Charlie had felt watching Mike leave him that morning.
“I threw them in the dryer. Have you met Refo?” Frank sounded unconcerned.
“Yes, in the store, right?” he nodded and approached for a fist bump. The gesture made his towel fall off. He picked it up and refastened it. He turned to sit in a nearby chair and it fell off again.
“Jody ...” Frank said with a complaint in his voice. “Refo's gonna get the wrong idea.”
Jody sat and placed the towel on his lap, covering most of the interesting parts. “Wouldn't want that to happen.” I couldn't detect a scintilla of sincerity in his tone.
“Refo came out from town to get his camera,” Frank explained - needlessly, I thought.
“All that way just for a camera,” Jody observed.
“It was a long trip … maybe I could go back in the morning?” I hinted to Frank.
“Of course,” Frank said with a smile. He got up leaving Jody and me pretending to enjoy the view not totally comfortable with each other. He returned with the camera. “Safe and secure,” he commented, giving it to me.
“Nice camera,” Jody noted; his interest in me changed. “What kind of pictures do you take?”
“Here we go ...” Frank said to nobody in particular.
“See, I was thinking, the light is nice right now ...”
“Did I mention Jody is an exhibitionist? You can hardly keep clothes on him,” Frank chuckled.
“... and I've always wanted to have some pictures of myself … nude maybe.”
Frank burst out laughing.
“So you might could take some?” Jody proposed.
Frank got up from his seat. “I'm gonna make us some drinks.” He shook his finger at Jody. “Don't you mess with my boyfriend.”
I love it when a cute guy says 'might could'. Plus, Jody was an interesting study. Hard and lean, basically, but with a vulnerability that comes after you've had a few hard knocks. And gentle eyes. And no shame whatsoever.
“Jody?” Frank demanded a response to his warning.
“Don't worry. He's totally into you, Frank. Even I can see that.”
“See, Refo, he lures people down to the river. And then the idea of skinny dipping just springs up … along with his cock ...”
“Frank,” Jody complained, “You're giving my secrets away.” He smiled at Frank and turned to me. “Really, Refo, the river bank is a nice quiet place for photography.”
Rory,
That was certainly a Katzenjammer Kids and Keystone Kops of a morning - followed by The hopeless flirt flaunting his phallus and trying to play games between Frank and Refo.
I enjoyed the visuals and the comedy. Sad about the heartbreak, but maybe some things will turn out OK.
That was certainly a Katzenjammer Kids and Keystone Kops of a morning - followed by The hopeless flirt flaunting his phallus and trying to play games between Frank and Refo.
I enjoyed the visuals and the comedy. Sad about the heartbreak, but maybe some things will turn out OK.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Thirty-Two
“We don't need to go anywhere to shoot some good pictures. There are plenty of photo ops right here.”
“Ok, let's go.” Jody stood up and tossed his towel back onto the chair.
“Uh … I want to shoot you in clothes first. We should probably work up to that stuff. I don't really have much experience with nudes.”
“Pictures you mean, right? I bet you got lots of experience with nude men.” Jody said this with a playful smile, but what was his point? “Frank,” he called into the barn. “Where are my clothes?”
“In the dryer,” came a distant reply.
“They got filthy unloading lumber,” Jody offered in explanation.
“He needs something to pose in. How would it be if he borrows some of yours?”
Jody was already heading for Frank's bedroom when Frank's approval came. “Well, come on,” he said to me. “You've got to pick out my costume.”
Standing in the bedroom, he looked around at my photography and said, “Awesome. I can hardly see a hint of skin and still Frank looks so sexy in these pictures.”
“Thanks, I took those of Frank one day when we were goofing around.”
“I bet you fucked his brains out when you were done.”
I left that comment alone and picked out some red underwear, a pair of khaki cargo shorts I knew Frank didn't like, and a plain white t-shirt. “Here; put these on. Meet you outside.”
“I feel real sexy in these red drawers of Frank's,” Jody came out and did a slow turn for my inspection. The shorts and t-shirt were tighter than they were on Frank, but they showed off Jody's body nicely and complimented his dark hair.
I focused the camera on him and liked what I saw. “Stand in the sunshine. I want to see shadows.”
“Yassuh, boss.” Jody played the minstrel show caricature and shuffled across the porch to a shaft of bright sunlight. He turned to me and held his hands out. “Ok?”
His hair was dark but contained flashes of color in the sun; sometimes I could see a hint of red, sometimes just a natural sheen. His eyelashes were so thick and long they cast shadows on his cheeks. The bones of his face shattered the reflected light into a bold chiaroscuro.
“You want to take the shirt off?” I proposed and he complied. He had a lot of chest hair that almost hid his nipples. “Turn around, ok?” Thank God there was no hair on his back, since his back begged to be photographed. “Ok, I have some ideas. Let's go for a walk.”
“Those are really good pictures in Frank's room. He should hang them where everybody can see them,” Jody said as we walked toward a thicket of wild berry bushes.
“He thinks they are too personal for public exhibition.”
“Yeah, he's pretty conservative about how he looks. Everything he wears is two sizes too big.”
We paused under a tree and I got some bright but indirectly lighted shots. “Bare feet, I think,” I proposed and Jody kicked off his shoes. “Yeah, that's it, primitive man,” I joked to get him to smile. He playfully pulled his shirt up some to show off his tight abs. I came in closer for a head shot and found I was holding my breath as I contemplated his lips. “Ok, enough of that,” I said and we mover on.
“When do we get to the naked part?” Jody joked.
“How about you take just your shirt off and stand close to those bushes?”
“They're full of prickers!” he complained.
“You want pricks, I want prickers. Just stand close enough that I can see the thorns against your skin. We're going for a Saint Sebastian look here. Pierced vulnerability.”
“OWWW! You should get Frank Pierce to fuck me. There's your Pierce-pierced vulnerability.” Jody stood against the bushes so that a branch hung over one shoulder threateningly, it's thorns just pressing against his skin.
Instantly I wondered if Frank had ever fucked him. Maybe, I thought. Probably, I decided. For sure, was my final choice. Jody's casual tone convinced me. “Less talking … You're breaking my concentration.” I didn't want to hear any more about Frank from Jody “Maybe unbutton the shorts … let them hang partly open. No, don't unzip; just open the button.” Maybe I had given my thoughts away.
“Frank loves you, Refo,” Jody said and again I refrained from comment. This wasn't the time for any soul-baring. I knew I would have trouble enough with the dick-baring.
“Ok, open the zipper about half way … just enough to see the color of your underwear ...” I noticed a thorn had drawn a drop or two of Jody's blood in the hollow of his clavicle; the red underwear would give the picture a counterpoint. “Ok, close your eyes and open them wide when I count to three. One … Two … Three … Good.”
We walked toward a larger grove of trees in silence for a while. “Wait a sec,” I said finally and wiped the bit of blood off his collar bone. “You got pierced a little.”
“A lot would have been ok,” he answered and we resumed walking. We found a good place under the trees. They were mostly maples with an occasional fir.
“Lean back onto the tree and open your shorts like you're going to take them off. I just want a hint of bulge showing. Ok, hold that for a profile … Now stand away from the tree and let me see a little ass. Like half a cheek, as you pull the shorts down. Uh, no, too much … Just let the shorts tug down the underwear, don't you try to do it … Right … Better … Again. Ok, now you can get nude now. I want a side profile ... No dick showing … Yeah … Wait, I said no dick.”
“I can't help it,” Jody said. “I'm hard.” He wasn't trying to show off, he was surprised by his condition. He gave me a look of honest embarrassment; and it was surprisingly endearing. I felt better about Jody and his reaction to what might have been his first unpremeditated act of the day. I hoped the camera had captured his look. It was my first peak at the real Jody.
“Ok, we can wait a bit ...” I turned away and pretended to adjust the camera. I walked a few steps away and aimed the camera at some distant trees.
“It's not going down,” Jody commented.
I still focused on the distance and said, “Ok, then. What kind of nudes did you want? Did you want pictures of your erection?”
“I … uh … Really?”
“You know … you could jack off if you wanted. Just pretend, of course. You wouldn't have to go all the way … It depends on what kind of pictures you wanted ...”
A half an hour later our relationship had changed. We were totally relaxed having shared an intimacy. A blob of his cum landed on my arm and another almost got the camera; before he had even stopped cumming, he grabbed my cock. I had my jeans on but he got a good feel. “I wanted to be sure I wasn't the only one enjoying this,” he managed to get out between gasps for air.
“I'm totally hard,” I admitted, as if he couldn't tell from groping me. He started to pull the shorts up but I stopped him. “Now maybe we can get that profile shot.” We took several more and I suspected they would be good pictures. Now MUCH better acquainted, we walked back to the barn.
“I wasn't kidding before. Frank totally loves you and I was prepared to not like you, but now I do even though I'm a little jealous.”
“I'm glad, because you're amazing, Jody. I figured everybody around here was like Frank, you know, kind of reserved, and here you are splashing all over the place, not to mention hot. These pictures are going to be great, if I do say so myself.
“There's something you should know. We had a little thing, Frank and me, when we were kids.”
“I sort of figured you did.”
“I wanted it to be a BIG thing, but Frank was happy with a little thing and I've been way too long getting over it; but what we had was nothing like what you and he have now, so getting over it should be a lot easier now that I know you and like you and know how happy Frank is and stuff, cuz we might could all be friends if you want. Does that make sense?” Jody stopped talking only because he had run out of air.
I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.
“Oh, GOD, don't ever do that in town! Frank would disown both of us!” Jody's initial shock eased back down to a pleasant sensation of mischief gotten away with. “Course, if he's not there ...”
Jody's clothes were dry by the time we got back. He put them on and left after a gin and tonic. Frank and I watched the cloud of dust his truck kicked up as he drove away. I squeezed in next to him in a big wooden chair. “This is cozy,” he said, and then, “That was Jody.”
“I like him.”
“He likes you too. I was worried at first that ...”
“Nope. Nothing to worry about.”
“Did you really take nude …?” I interrupted his question with a kiss. “Any thoughts about dinner?” he asked when we came up for air.
“Nope.” I went back to kissing him.
“Not even ...” he tried to ask.
“Nope.” I put my hand inside his shirt and found the nub of a nipple to play with. With a half sob and a half gasp, he pulled me with him to the bedroom.
“Refo, I've been wanting you all day.”
We didn't stop or even hesitate. I felt an unusual aggression and took the lead, stripping us and then licking every part of Frank I could get to. He tried to stuff his cock down my throat, but I kept it at licking, teasing him, tasting little previews of his cum. And then I rimmed him. He moaned my name a couple of times. If he said anything else I didn't hear it. I felt a need for him that was stronger than I ever felt for anyone. I needed to fuck him. Fumbling I got lube all over the place and then slammed it in. I couldn't even slow down until I was fully in his ass. He wasn't as ready as I was, but he let me do anything I wanted. For a while, I just slammed into him needing his response as much as my own. I wasn't close to cumming, but my dick felt bigger than I could remember. I slowed down and let Frank catch up, slow fucking him with as long a stroke as I could manage without popping out.
“Let me turn over,” he groaned. He got on all fours and presented his ass to me.
“Ooooow, yes,” I plugged him and resumed our slow fuck. He sighed; he cooed. I thought I was doing just what he wanted. I hugged him around the chest and kissed his back.
“NO! NNNNGH! UUUUH!” I felt his spurts on my arms. The instant he stopped bucking he disengaged and rolled onto his back. “Put it back in. Keep fuckin' me!” He sighed as he felt the length of my cock slide back into place and then demanded action. “Fuck me,” he pleaded and pulled my mouth to his. I felt his lips, his tongue, his urgency. I pumped faster and then harder and then slower as I felt the pressure build in me. I tried to prolong it. The tension was delicious until I went too far, too hard. I exploded in him, slamming my hips into his, shaking his body. The bed creaked and then cracked but held together. Frank pulled me into him, kissing me, almost eating my face.
It was the best fuck of my life. I lay heaving on the bed when it was over, sucking for the air, half delerious. Frank was saying something, but I couldn't hear him. Eventually he just kissed me while my pulse slowed to normal, my breathing slowed, and my bliss faded.
“What happened?” I asked pointlessly. “That was ...”
“Perfect.” Frank finished my statement. “I've never done that before … cum from being fucked. It was like you forced the cum out of me. I thought my balls were gonna …
I don't know … I can't even explain …”
“Did my body tell you I love you? If it didn't … I love you, Frank. So different from before.”
“Before, when you didn't actually love me.” Frank kept kissing me. It was so unlike him to be clinging to me; I was usually the clingy one, the one who couldn't get enough. “Now you do, I can tell.”
“I did love you before. The best I knew how. I just didn't know how to be good at it, I guess.” I traced his lips with my finger and then kissed them. “Now is so different though ...”
“It's been a trip getting here, Reef, but here we are together. Finally … It's worth it. Right? Totally worth it.” He buried me in kisses and then held me so tight I couldn't breathe. “Perfect,” he sighed. “Nothing could ruin it now?”
Should I bring it up? I hesitated. But things were so perfect, as Frank had said; it was probably the best time. The words were a problem, but they needed to be said. He had to know. He would find out eventually.
“ Frank … what if I marry Sarah Felsen? Just for a little while … for about a year maybe … 'til she has the baby?”
I thought for minute he would kill me. Slowly he got his anger under control, eventually he could talk. “I couldn't have heard you right. None of that makes ANY sense.”
“Yes, it does. Sort of.”
He got out of bed. His fists were clenched. I could see a pulse in his jaw. “No, it doesn't. NOT ONE WORD, REFO.”
“We don't need to go anywhere to shoot some good pictures. There are plenty of photo ops right here.”
“Ok, let's go.” Jody stood up and tossed his towel back onto the chair.
“Uh … I want to shoot you in clothes first. We should probably work up to that stuff. I don't really have much experience with nudes.”
“Pictures you mean, right? I bet you got lots of experience with nude men.” Jody said this with a playful smile, but what was his point? “Frank,” he called into the barn. “Where are my clothes?”
“In the dryer,” came a distant reply.
“They got filthy unloading lumber,” Jody offered in explanation.
“He needs something to pose in. How would it be if he borrows some of yours?”
Jody was already heading for Frank's bedroom when Frank's approval came. “Well, come on,” he said to me. “You've got to pick out my costume.”
Standing in the bedroom, he looked around at my photography and said, “Awesome. I can hardly see a hint of skin and still Frank looks so sexy in these pictures.”
“Thanks, I took those of Frank one day when we were goofing around.”
“I bet you fucked his brains out when you were done.”
I left that comment alone and picked out some red underwear, a pair of khaki cargo shorts I knew Frank didn't like, and a plain white t-shirt. “Here; put these on. Meet you outside.”
“I feel real sexy in these red drawers of Frank's,” Jody came out and did a slow turn for my inspection. The shorts and t-shirt were tighter than they were on Frank, but they showed off Jody's body nicely and complimented his dark hair.
I focused the camera on him and liked what I saw. “Stand in the sunshine. I want to see shadows.”
“Yassuh, boss.” Jody played the minstrel show caricature and shuffled across the porch to a shaft of bright sunlight. He turned to me and held his hands out. “Ok?”
His hair was dark but contained flashes of color in the sun; sometimes I could see a hint of red, sometimes just a natural sheen. His eyelashes were so thick and long they cast shadows on his cheeks. The bones of his face shattered the reflected light into a bold chiaroscuro.
“You want to take the shirt off?” I proposed and he complied. He had a lot of chest hair that almost hid his nipples. “Turn around, ok?” Thank God there was no hair on his back, since his back begged to be photographed. “Ok, I have some ideas. Let's go for a walk.”
“Those are really good pictures in Frank's room. He should hang them where everybody can see them,” Jody said as we walked toward a thicket of wild berry bushes.
“He thinks they are too personal for public exhibition.”
“Yeah, he's pretty conservative about how he looks. Everything he wears is two sizes too big.”
We paused under a tree and I got some bright but indirectly lighted shots. “Bare feet, I think,” I proposed and Jody kicked off his shoes. “Yeah, that's it, primitive man,” I joked to get him to smile. He playfully pulled his shirt up some to show off his tight abs. I came in closer for a head shot and found I was holding my breath as I contemplated his lips. “Ok, enough of that,” I said and we mover on.
“When do we get to the naked part?” Jody joked.
“How about you take just your shirt off and stand close to those bushes?”
“They're full of prickers!” he complained.
“You want pricks, I want prickers. Just stand close enough that I can see the thorns against your skin. We're going for a Saint Sebastian look here. Pierced vulnerability.”
“OWWW! You should get Frank Pierce to fuck me. There's your Pierce-pierced vulnerability.” Jody stood against the bushes so that a branch hung over one shoulder threateningly, it's thorns just pressing against his skin.
Instantly I wondered if Frank had ever fucked him. Maybe, I thought. Probably, I decided. For sure, was my final choice. Jody's casual tone convinced me. “Less talking … You're breaking my concentration.” I didn't want to hear any more about Frank from Jody “Maybe unbutton the shorts … let them hang partly open. No, don't unzip; just open the button.” Maybe I had given my thoughts away.
“Frank loves you, Refo,” Jody said and again I refrained from comment. This wasn't the time for any soul-baring. I knew I would have trouble enough with the dick-baring.
“Ok, open the zipper about half way … just enough to see the color of your underwear ...” I noticed a thorn had drawn a drop or two of Jody's blood in the hollow of his clavicle; the red underwear would give the picture a counterpoint. “Ok, close your eyes and open them wide when I count to three. One … Two … Three … Good.”
We walked toward a larger grove of trees in silence for a while. “Wait a sec,” I said finally and wiped the bit of blood off his collar bone. “You got pierced a little.”
“A lot would have been ok,” he answered and we resumed walking. We found a good place under the trees. They were mostly maples with an occasional fir.
“Lean back onto the tree and open your shorts like you're going to take them off. I just want a hint of bulge showing. Ok, hold that for a profile … Now stand away from the tree and let me see a little ass. Like half a cheek, as you pull the shorts down. Uh, no, too much … Just let the shorts tug down the underwear, don't you try to do it … Right … Better … Again. Ok, now you can get nude now. I want a side profile ... No dick showing … Yeah … Wait, I said no dick.”
“I can't help it,” Jody said. “I'm hard.” He wasn't trying to show off, he was surprised by his condition. He gave me a look of honest embarrassment; and it was surprisingly endearing. I felt better about Jody and his reaction to what might have been his first unpremeditated act of the day. I hoped the camera had captured his look. It was my first peak at the real Jody.
“Ok, we can wait a bit ...” I turned away and pretended to adjust the camera. I walked a few steps away and aimed the camera at some distant trees.
“It's not going down,” Jody commented.
I still focused on the distance and said, “Ok, then. What kind of nudes did you want? Did you want pictures of your erection?”
“I … uh … Really?”
“You know … you could jack off if you wanted. Just pretend, of course. You wouldn't have to go all the way … It depends on what kind of pictures you wanted ...”
A half an hour later our relationship had changed. We were totally relaxed having shared an intimacy. A blob of his cum landed on my arm and another almost got the camera; before he had even stopped cumming, he grabbed my cock. I had my jeans on but he got a good feel. “I wanted to be sure I wasn't the only one enjoying this,” he managed to get out between gasps for air.
“I'm totally hard,” I admitted, as if he couldn't tell from groping me. He started to pull the shorts up but I stopped him. “Now maybe we can get that profile shot.” We took several more and I suspected they would be good pictures. Now MUCH better acquainted, we walked back to the barn.
“I wasn't kidding before. Frank totally loves you and I was prepared to not like you, but now I do even though I'm a little jealous.”
“I'm glad, because you're amazing, Jody. I figured everybody around here was like Frank, you know, kind of reserved, and here you are splashing all over the place, not to mention hot. These pictures are going to be great, if I do say so myself.
“There's something you should know. We had a little thing, Frank and me, when we were kids.”
“I sort of figured you did.”
“I wanted it to be a BIG thing, but Frank was happy with a little thing and I've been way too long getting over it; but what we had was nothing like what you and he have now, so getting over it should be a lot easier now that I know you and like you and know how happy Frank is and stuff, cuz we might could all be friends if you want. Does that make sense?” Jody stopped talking only because he had run out of air.
I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.
“Oh, GOD, don't ever do that in town! Frank would disown both of us!” Jody's initial shock eased back down to a pleasant sensation of mischief gotten away with. “Course, if he's not there ...”
Jody's clothes were dry by the time we got back. He put them on and left after a gin and tonic. Frank and I watched the cloud of dust his truck kicked up as he drove away. I squeezed in next to him in a big wooden chair. “This is cozy,” he said, and then, “That was Jody.”
“I like him.”
“He likes you too. I was worried at first that ...”
“Nope. Nothing to worry about.”
“Did you really take nude …?” I interrupted his question with a kiss. “Any thoughts about dinner?” he asked when we came up for air.
“Nope.” I went back to kissing him.
“Not even ...” he tried to ask.
“Nope.” I put my hand inside his shirt and found the nub of a nipple to play with. With a half sob and a half gasp, he pulled me with him to the bedroom.
“Refo, I've been wanting you all day.”
We didn't stop or even hesitate. I felt an unusual aggression and took the lead, stripping us and then licking every part of Frank I could get to. He tried to stuff his cock down my throat, but I kept it at licking, teasing him, tasting little previews of his cum. And then I rimmed him. He moaned my name a couple of times. If he said anything else I didn't hear it. I felt a need for him that was stronger than I ever felt for anyone. I needed to fuck him. Fumbling I got lube all over the place and then slammed it in. I couldn't even slow down until I was fully in his ass. He wasn't as ready as I was, but he let me do anything I wanted. For a while, I just slammed into him needing his response as much as my own. I wasn't close to cumming, but my dick felt bigger than I could remember. I slowed down and let Frank catch up, slow fucking him with as long a stroke as I could manage without popping out.
“Let me turn over,” he groaned. He got on all fours and presented his ass to me.
“Ooooow, yes,” I plugged him and resumed our slow fuck. He sighed; he cooed. I thought I was doing just what he wanted. I hugged him around the chest and kissed his back.
“NO! NNNNGH! UUUUH!” I felt his spurts on my arms. The instant he stopped bucking he disengaged and rolled onto his back. “Put it back in. Keep fuckin' me!” He sighed as he felt the length of my cock slide back into place and then demanded action. “Fuck me,” he pleaded and pulled my mouth to his. I felt his lips, his tongue, his urgency. I pumped faster and then harder and then slower as I felt the pressure build in me. I tried to prolong it. The tension was delicious until I went too far, too hard. I exploded in him, slamming my hips into his, shaking his body. The bed creaked and then cracked but held together. Frank pulled me into him, kissing me, almost eating my face.
It was the best fuck of my life. I lay heaving on the bed when it was over, sucking for the air, half delerious. Frank was saying something, but I couldn't hear him. Eventually he just kissed me while my pulse slowed to normal, my breathing slowed, and my bliss faded.
“What happened?” I asked pointlessly. “That was ...”
“Perfect.” Frank finished my statement. “I've never done that before … cum from being fucked. It was like you forced the cum out of me. I thought my balls were gonna …
I don't know … I can't even explain …”
“Did my body tell you I love you? If it didn't … I love you, Frank. So different from before.”
“Before, when you didn't actually love me.” Frank kept kissing me. It was so unlike him to be clinging to me; I was usually the clingy one, the one who couldn't get enough. “Now you do, I can tell.”
“I did love you before. The best I knew how. I just didn't know how to be good at it, I guess.” I traced his lips with my finger and then kissed them. “Now is so different though ...”
“It's been a trip getting here, Reef, but here we are together. Finally … It's worth it. Right? Totally worth it.” He buried me in kisses and then held me so tight I couldn't breathe. “Perfect,” he sighed. “Nothing could ruin it now?”
Should I bring it up? I hesitated. But things were so perfect, as Frank had said; it was probably the best time. The words were a problem, but they needed to be said. He had to know. He would find out eventually.
“ Frank … what if I marry Sarah Felsen? Just for a little while … for about a year maybe … 'til she has the baby?”
I thought for minute he would kill me. Slowly he got his anger under control, eventually he could talk. “I couldn't have heard you right. None of that makes ANY sense.”
“Yes, it does. Sort of.”
He got out of bed. His fists were clenched. I could see a pulse in his jaw. “No, it doesn't. NOT ONE WORD, REFO.”
Such a perfect day - UNTIL!
How you going to 'splain it to Lucy in a way that the tempestuous (pseudo-) Red Head ne'e McGillicuddy won't bust an artery - or your head?!
Great read, Rory.
How you going to 'splain it to Lucy in a way that the tempestuous (pseudo-) Red Head ne'e McGillicuddy won't bust an artery - or your head?!
Great read, Rory.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Ok, one more chapter, (today, I hope) and then a week off. A major life event of the good kind is going on. 
Is this an appropriate post for said good kind of event?
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Yes, but I'm not directly involved.
