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In Praise of Hanes
- Thread starter EasyRory
- Start date
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Thanks, Bluesdog. Inside info: the posted version of the last chapter was my third total rewrite of it. If it weren't fun, I wouldn't do it.
We appreciate that you DO!
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Fifty
The arrival of the rugs gave Saturday a promising start. Sarah Felsen and her lookalike cousin David arrived at eight, much earlier than I had expected. I hurried to get dressed so they could see the bedroom.
“Refo, it's ...” Sarah was impressed with the barn.
“Fuckin' huge,” David filled in.
“Ok, we start by pulling the bed away from the wall. Give me a had here, David.” Sarah and David both wore tennis shirts and their boobs moved almost in tandem. If David's man-boobs had been any bigger he could have used Sarah's brassiere to good effect. There was nothing effeminate about him; and he really wasn't too much overweight; but he had a bushel of man-boobs sloshing around inside that t-shirt. It was fascinating to watch and I think he caught me watching a couple of times. I couldn't help it – his nipples were very pointed.; but at least he said nothing.
In short order, two of the rugs flanked the bed and a third lay at its foot. Sarah was right. The golden tones of the rugs did look like they belonged in the room.
“Now, Refo, the sun is going to hit this one every morning, so you want to rotate them around. You know, let them fade evenly.”
“Uh, yeah. I didn't know that.” I had been distracted by how much the cousins resembled each other. Thanks to the magic of makeup, their shared face went better on Sarah but the body looked much better on David even with his boobs. Standing in place and wearing a tight t-shirt, he appeared merely to have pronounced nipples. You didn't get the full effect until he moved. Small boobs coupled with the compact waist and pelvis of a man was an attention-holding presentation, unexpectedly attractive when combined with a simmering masculinity that David radiated. I tried not to stare.
“The bigger rug is going to be a problem, though. It will unbalance the room.”
“Um, I actually thought the big one could go in Frank's office.”
“Oh, my GOD!” Sarah exclaimed when she saw the office. “This room is so perfect. Who was your architect?”
“Frank did it, but he's not an architect.”
“Well, he should be. This is … it's perfect.” She repeated the word. “The windows are ...” She admired the northwestern view and ran her fingers over the wood. “Where did he get this wood? David, feel this … I've got to meet Frank.”
They put the big rug down and left after Sarah had extracted an invitation back. So, once they were gone, I was pretty pleased with myself and hoped Frank would share my pleasure. I spent an hour taking Merle out and looking back into the bedroom and the office. I liked the rugs better every time I looked at them. No doubt Sarah would eventually find a way to tell me she could have got them for a much better price, but I didn't care. They were worth what I paid.
I fed Merle and hit the road. Two hours later Marvin met me inside the fences of Pigs in Blankets. Yes, the name was definitely pronounced Marvin and her partner Lex had once been misnamed Alexandra by her parents. Marvin and Lex were unquestionably lesbians but they didn't make a big deal of it. I couldn't tell if they were partners in just a business sense or if they were a couple; either way they were used to working together.
“I expected to see the pigs all wrapped up.” That was a lame opener, but I hoped they would see some humor in it.
“We're the pigs in blankets, not the hogs,” Marvin said.
“Marvin and I have always been a little plump,” Lex explained. “And one day our college roommate caught us together in bed. 'You look so cute,' she said. 'Like little piggies in a blanket.' So the name was invented.”
“Yeah, it was the only uncritical thing that bitch ever said.” Marvin smarted at the recollection.
“Marvin never liked Sam much. Sam Felsen… that was the roommate,” Lex explained.
“She was a LUG,” Marvin sneered. “So smug ...”
“LUG means Lesbian Until Graduation,” Lex needlessly explained. “So you're pretty cute for a gay guy.” She caught me off guard with that remark.
“Sam for Samantha? I work with a Sarah Felsen, who is a handful. Maybe they're related.”
Marvin and Lex looked at each other. “Did she go to UNC?”
“Undergraduate, she did.” They looked at each other again.
“So enough about our sex lives, you want to hear about hogs. What I had in mind was an image campaign like Krol's ads with the chickens.” Marvin firmly turned the conversation to business.
“How big is your volume? Krol's produces chickens by the million.”
“It wouldn't be just us. It would be for all the farms in our cooperative. Collectively we slaughter about ten thousand hogs a year. And since the fuckin' Chinese bought Smithfield we can't ride on that trademark.”
“Marv, you shouldn't call them that.”
“There's over a billion-three of them. I'd say fucking is their main occupation. That and ruining a good hog. Have you tried that ham lately?” She aimed the last question at me.
“It's a little salty for me,” I ventured.
“It's supposed to be. Think of it as a flavorful condiment. Have you had lunch? Ox,” she yelled into another room, “Set another place for lunch.” She beckoned me into the next room. Ox, counter to his name's implication, was a slightly delicate man. “Gay, in case you're wondering,” Marvin said. Ox smiled at the compliment as well as at me as he set out another place. “Butch it up, Ox. We're trying to impress Refo, here.”
Lunch was a sort of corn porridge served on biscuits with small slices of ham. The ham was the distinctively salty variety Virginia is known for. As a flavorful side dish, it went very well with the filling blandness of the porridge. Marvin and Lex ate huge portions and smiled at my more modest consumption.
“Ox used to be our foreman,” Marvin explained, “until the local mothers wouldn't let their sons anywhere near him. So we had to bring him into the house.” Ox didn't seem at all bother by the comment; in fact he winked at me.
“Jeez, Marv … Refo's gonna think ...” He feigned caution.
“That you're a predator? I think Refo can handle himself. He probably swats away guys like you like you're bottle flies.”
“Is that another reference to my suit?”
“I sent him to Richmond to buy a business suit. He comes back with this iridescent sharkskin number ...” Marvin laughed at what must have been a long-standing joke between them. “So, Mr. FitzJohn, I'm turning you over to Ox, here, to show you around and let you take some pictures.” After some closing compliments and thanks for the lunch I headed off with Ox to see the hogs.
“Hogs stink,” Ox said. “The whole county stinks, but you get used to it. And if you're careful, you don't stink – too much, anyway. My boyfriend, Monster, he doesn't see it that way but that's just him. He's nose was fucked up playing football.”
“The smell was noticeable at first but I'm kind of used to it. I worked on a chicken farm, which isn't the home of fresh air either.”
“Right. Krol's. You get to meet Butch?”
“I did. He helped me take ...”
“Cute kid, isn't he?” Ox interrupted. “I went to high school with him.” Now that was surprising. Ox looked more than a couple of years older than Butch. “Ok, here we are. You want protective garments? Or do you like pig shit? When I was foreman I just toughed it out. But now, I cover up.”
“Protection is fine. I got used to coveralls at the chicken farm.”
Once we were inside a building he called an incubator, he handed me some folded garments. “Get as naked as you're comfortable with. I warn you, you'll want to burn anything you don't take off. We got scuffs to put on your feet.”
Ox took his own advice and stripped bare before putting on the disposables. A little hairier than I usually like, but his body wasn't bad. He was business-like and didn't flaunt anything while changing so I followed suit. Clad in paper that seemed both substantial and flimsy at the same time, the two of us headed for a pen.
“These are younger hogs, they show more personality than the older guys; maybe they'll be more photogenic.” Ox squatted down and called to one of the hogs. The animal trotted over to him amiably and paused while Ox scratched his jowl. Watching the scene through the viewfinder of my camera, I got that dryness in my mouth. Ox's paper pants had torn as he bend down but were still held together by the belt made of something stronger. The hog looked like a hog, but Ox looked hot with his ass half-hanging out. I took a few shots and showed them to Ox.
“My ass is looking fatter than the hogs,” he commented. That wasn't true; his ass looked pretty fine, but I said nothing. After we took more shots of some slightly older hogs, Ox recommended against the largest.
“One mistake and they'll eat you,” he said. “The piglets are the cutest but it's late in the year. We'll have a new litters in March if you think piglets are your best subjects.”
“I don't know. They're not the prettiest animals on earth, are they?” Ox was looking over my shoulder as I cycled through the shots.
“Man, I do have a fat ass, don't I. The girls like huge meals and I usually eat with them … Gotta cut down. My boy friend Monster is giving me trouble about it.”
“Monster is full of shit.”
“You think? He's full of criticism lately. I'm thinkin' Monster is about to take off on me and he's just looking for an excuse. I need something to make him stick around. Could you uh … You really think you could make me look good?”
“You do look good, it's just a matter of figuring out how you'll look best to the camera.”
“So … you could make me look better with that impressive camera – like, right now?”
“Well, I'm here to take shots of the hogs … But, with your coloring, if you posed with those two black and white hogs ...”
Getting naked was Ox's idea, but I didn't object. I showed him the results.
“That's awesome,” he said, standing closer than I would have, as we looked at the camera's video screen. “The hogs kinda steal the show and then all of a sudden you notice me. Me being naked, I mean. You don't see it right away.” He looked at the several shots I had taken and then stepped back. “It's cute, right? But it isn't gonna matter to Monster. He'll just say I'm getting as fat as the hogs.”
“What would interest Monster?” I tried to keep it innocent, almost knowing what was coming.
“How about if you took pictures of me suckin' your dick? That would get his interest! That might piss him off even!”
“No … I don't think so ...”
“Aw, come on. It wouldn't be a real blow job. You wouldn't even be in the picture … not all of you … Nobody could even tell it was you. Just some anonymous dick. You don't have your name tattooed on your dick do you?”
“No, but ...”
He took that as permission. He knelt in front of me and with a smooth, practiced motion shredded my paper trousers. My dick was in his mouth before I could react. I quickly came to my senses and tried to back away but he held me firmly with his arms around my ass.
“Come on. Take some pictures!” he mumbled; it was hard to talk with his mouth full of me. He deep-throated me, but that's not hard when the cock being sucked isn't either. He pulled off of me and looked up. “I don't hear any clicking.”
There was my chance to end it. I wanted to. But, you know how it is. He actually looked appealing looking up at me and holding my cock that way. He had very sexy gray eyes. I took the shot and he took my cock back in his mouth. After some more shots he paused and asked to see the pictures.
I felt really stupid standing there in shredded pant with a hardon showing him the shots. He was critical. Annoyingly critical, I felt.
“Refo, ok, you can tell it's a blowjob, but you can't tell it's me. I mean, not really. Monster could cliam it was just a close resemblance. We need to show more of my face.” He paused and looked at the shots again. “Your dick looks pretty sweet though, doesn't it?”
There was another chance to end it, but I didn't. He knelt again and looked up at me, holding my dick in his hand and licking the tip. He licked the length of the shaft, and then he did a lot more. “Just for the camera,” he kept reassuring me. My problem was he was feeling more than good; I was sure he was just about the best cocksucker I'd ever been with.
“Ok,” I said. I was close to coming. “That's enough.” He didn't stop. He quickly deep-throated me and did something to my asshole. “I'm coming!” I announced. He held my cock so I shot in his face.
“Get the come shot!” he demanded.
I clicked away. He lapped everything up as I continued to shoot in both senses of the word. I have to tell you operating a camera is a good way to ruin an orgasm. I got no pleasure out of it. Well, ok, I did a little, but it definitely wasn't the best orgasm of my life.
He paused after cleaning my cock and his face off and I took a deep breath. “You're still hard,” he said with a smile.
“Yeah, sometimes I stay ...”
“Want to fuck me? Just for the camera, of course. We wouldn't have to ...”
“NO, I don't want to fuck you!”
I quickly dressed while he thanked me. “You'll sent me copies, right? My address is easy. It's ox at pigsinblankets dot com – all small letters. You know your cum tastes pretty sweet. If you ever want to do this again ...” I didn't let him finish; I left. “Don't forget about the pictures,” he called after me.
I almost ran out of the building. Forget? How could I forget? How fucking stupid! That's another thing I'll never forget. I said quick goodbyes to Marvin and Lex, hurried to my car, and spun the wheels in the gravel getting the hell out of there.
Ten miles later, just when I was getting my self-composure back, Frank's words came back to me. “What about fidelity, Reef?”
Fidelity, there's a fell word if there ever was one. But I really hadn't been unfaithful. The stupid blowjob hadn't been anything I went looking for. It just kind of happened. That's the truth. It was an accident. I almost had myself convinced. The trouble was it was a preventable accident. There were a couple of times I could have ended it. A better person would have ended it. And it wasn't even any fun. Ok, that no-fun part, that was unimportant, a cynical view of things; and I wasn't feeling cynical at all. I was feeling remorseful.
It served me right when the Mazda made that first sickening noise, followed by a metalic clatter and then a banging on the floorboards. Why do we still call them boards? Floorboards haven't been wood for almost a century. FUCK! my mind screamed. How can you be thinking about semantics when your car is on fire?
I pulled to the side of the road and got out as quickly as I could. Ok, no flames, but there had been sparks flying out behind me on the road. Still, I worried about fire when I had to reenter the Mazda to get my phone and camera equipment. Serves me right, I thought. Helpless frustration makes me want to cry sometimes, but I didn't. Fifty miles from home I stood on the roadside and calmly dialed Frank's number.
“The party you dialed is not available at this time. If you would like to leave a voice mail, please remain on the line.”
The arrival of the rugs gave Saturday a promising start. Sarah Felsen and her lookalike cousin David arrived at eight, much earlier than I had expected. I hurried to get dressed so they could see the bedroom.
“Refo, it's ...” Sarah was impressed with the barn.
“Fuckin' huge,” David filled in.
“Ok, we start by pulling the bed away from the wall. Give me a had here, David.” Sarah and David both wore tennis shirts and their boobs moved almost in tandem. If David's man-boobs had been any bigger he could have used Sarah's brassiere to good effect. There was nothing effeminate about him; and he really wasn't too much overweight; but he had a bushel of man-boobs sloshing around inside that t-shirt. It was fascinating to watch and I think he caught me watching a couple of times. I couldn't help it – his nipples were very pointed.; but at least he said nothing.
In short order, two of the rugs flanked the bed and a third lay at its foot. Sarah was right. The golden tones of the rugs did look like they belonged in the room.
“Now, Refo, the sun is going to hit this one every morning, so you want to rotate them around. You know, let them fade evenly.”
“Uh, yeah. I didn't know that.” I had been distracted by how much the cousins resembled each other. Thanks to the magic of makeup, their shared face went better on Sarah but the body looked much better on David even with his boobs. Standing in place and wearing a tight t-shirt, he appeared merely to have pronounced nipples. You didn't get the full effect until he moved. Small boobs coupled with the compact waist and pelvis of a man was an attention-holding presentation, unexpectedly attractive when combined with a simmering masculinity that David radiated. I tried not to stare.
“The bigger rug is going to be a problem, though. It will unbalance the room.”
“Um, I actually thought the big one could go in Frank's office.”
“Oh, my GOD!” Sarah exclaimed when she saw the office. “This room is so perfect. Who was your architect?”
“Frank did it, but he's not an architect.”
“Well, he should be. This is … it's perfect.” She repeated the word. “The windows are ...” She admired the northwestern view and ran her fingers over the wood. “Where did he get this wood? David, feel this … I've got to meet Frank.”
They put the big rug down and left after Sarah had extracted an invitation back. So, once they were gone, I was pretty pleased with myself and hoped Frank would share my pleasure. I spent an hour taking Merle out and looking back into the bedroom and the office. I liked the rugs better every time I looked at them. No doubt Sarah would eventually find a way to tell me she could have got them for a much better price, but I didn't care. They were worth what I paid.
I fed Merle and hit the road. Two hours later Marvin met me inside the fences of Pigs in Blankets. Yes, the name was definitely pronounced Marvin and her partner Lex had once been misnamed Alexandra by her parents. Marvin and Lex were unquestionably lesbians but they didn't make a big deal of it. I couldn't tell if they were partners in just a business sense or if they were a couple; either way they were used to working together.
“I expected to see the pigs all wrapped up.” That was a lame opener, but I hoped they would see some humor in it.
“We're the pigs in blankets, not the hogs,” Marvin said.
“Marvin and I have always been a little plump,” Lex explained. “And one day our college roommate caught us together in bed. 'You look so cute,' she said. 'Like little piggies in a blanket.' So the name was invented.”
“Yeah, it was the only uncritical thing that bitch ever said.” Marvin smarted at the recollection.
“Marvin never liked Sam much. Sam Felsen… that was the roommate,” Lex explained.
“She was a LUG,” Marvin sneered. “So smug ...”
“LUG means Lesbian Until Graduation,” Lex needlessly explained. “So you're pretty cute for a gay guy.” She caught me off guard with that remark.
“Sam for Samantha? I work with a Sarah Felsen, who is a handful. Maybe they're related.”
Marvin and Lex looked at each other. “Did she go to UNC?”
“Undergraduate, she did.” They looked at each other again.
“So enough about our sex lives, you want to hear about hogs. What I had in mind was an image campaign like Krol's ads with the chickens.” Marvin firmly turned the conversation to business.
“How big is your volume? Krol's produces chickens by the million.”
“It wouldn't be just us. It would be for all the farms in our cooperative. Collectively we slaughter about ten thousand hogs a year. And since the fuckin' Chinese bought Smithfield we can't ride on that trademark.”
“Marv, you shouldn't call them that.”
“There's over a billion-three of them. I'd say fucking is their main occupation. That and ruining a good hog. Have you tried that ham lately?” She aimed the last question at me.
“It's a little salty for me,” I ventured.
“It's supposed to be. Think of it as a flavorful condiment. Have you had lunch? Ox,” she yelled into another room, “Set another place for lunch.” She beckoned me into the next room. Ox, counter to his name's implication, was a slightly delicate man. “Gay, in case you're wondering,” Marvin said. Ox smiled at the compliment as well as at me as he set out another place. “Butch it up, Ox. We're trying to impress Refo, here.”
Lunch was a sort of corn porridge served on biscuits with small slices of ham. The ham was the distinctively salty variety Virginia is known for. As a flavorful side dish, it went very well with the filling blandness of the porridge. Marvin and Lex ate huge portions and smiled at my more modest consumption.
“Ox used to be our foreman,” Marvin explained, “until the local mothers wouldn't let their sons anywhere near him. So we had to bring him into the house.” Ox didn't seem at all bother by the comment; in fact he winked at me.
“Jeez, Marv … Refo's gonna think ...” He feigned caution.
“That you're a predator? I think Refo can handle himself. He probably swats away guys like you like you're bottle flies.”
“Is that another reference to my suit?”
“I sent him to Richmond to buy a business suit. He comes back with this iridescent sharkskin number ...” Marvin laughed at what must have been a long-standing joke between them. “So, Mr. FitzJohn, I'm turning you over to Ox, here, to show you around and let you take some pictures.” After some closing compliments and thanks for the lunch I headed off with Ox to see the hogs.
“Hogs stink,” Ox said. “The whole county stinks, but you get used to it. And if you're careful, you don't stink – too much, anyway. My boyfriend, Monster, he doesn't see it that way but that's just him. He's nose was fucked up playing football.”
“The smell was noticeable at first but I'm kind of used to it. I worked on a chicken farm, which isn't the home of fresh air either.”
“Right. Krol's. You get to meet Butch?”
“I did. He helped me take ...”
“Cute kid, isn't he?” Ox interrupted. “I went to high school with him.” Now that was surprising. Ox looked more than a couple of years older than Butch. “Ok, here we are. You want protective garments? Or do you like pig shit? When I was foreman I just toughed it out. But now, I cover up.”
“Protection is fine. I got used to coveralls at the chicken farm.”
Once we were inside a building he called an incubator, he handed me some folded garments. “Get as naked as you're comfortable with. I warn you, you'll want to burn anything you don't take off. We got scuffs to put on your feet.”
Ox took his own advice and stripped bare before putting on the disposables. A little hairier than I usually like, but his body wasn't bad. He was business-like and didn't flaunt anything while changing so I followed suit. Clad in paper that seemed both substantial and flimsy at the same time, the two of us headed for a pen.
“These are younger hogs, they show more personality than the older guys; maybe they'll be more photogenic.” Ox squatted down and called to one of the hogs. The animal trotted over to him amiably and paused while Ox scratched his jowl. Watching the scene through the viewfinder of my camera, I got that dryness in my mouth. Ox's paper pants had torn as he bend down but were still held together by the belt made of something stronger. The hog looked like a hog, but Ox looked hot with his ass half-hanging out. I took a few shots and showed them to Ox.
“My ass is looking fatter than the hogs,” he commented. That wasn't true; his ass looked pretty fine, but I said nothing. After we took more shots of some slightly older hogs, Ox recommended against the largest.
“One mistake and they'll eat you,” he said. “The piglets are the cutest but it's late in the year. We'll have a new litters in March if you think piglets are your best subjects.”
“I don't know. They're not the prettiest animals on earth, are they?” Ox was looking over my shoulder as I cycled through the shots.
“Man, I do have a fat ass, don't I. The girls like huge meals and I usually eat with them … Gotta cut down. My boy friend Monster is giving me trouble about it.”
“Monster is full of shit.”
“You think? He's full of criticism lately. I'm thinkin' Monster is about to take off on me and he's just looking for an excuse. I need something to make him stick around. Could you uh … You really think you could make me look good?”
“You do look good, it's just a matter of figuring out how you'll look best to the camera.”
“So … you could make me look better with that impressive camera – like, right now?”
“Well, I'm here to take shots of the hogs … But, with your coloring, if you posed with those two black and white hogs ...”
Getting naked was Ox's idea, but I didn't object. I showed him the results.
“That's awesome,” he said, standing closer than I would have, as we looked at the camera's video screen. “The hogs kinda steal the show and then all of a sudden you notice me. Me being naked, I mean. You don't see it right away.” He looked at the several shots I had taken and then stepped back. “It's cute, right? But it isn't gonna matter to Monster. He'll just say I'm getting as fat as the hogs.”
“What would interest Monster?” I tried to keep it innocent, almost knowing what was coming.
“How about if you took pictures of me suckin' your dick? That would get his interest! That might piss him off even!”
“No … I don't think so ...”
“Aw, come on. It wouldn't be a real blow job. You wouldn't even be in the picture … not all of you … Nobody could even tell it was you. Just some anonymous dick. You don't have your name tattooed on your dick do you?”
“No, but ...”
He took that as permission. He knelt in front of me and with a smooth, practiced motion shredded my paper trousers. My dick was in his mouth before I could react. I quickly came to my senses and tried to back away but he held me firmly with his arms around my ass.
“Come on. Take some pictures!” he mumbled; it was hard to talk with his mouth full of me. He deep-throated me, but that's not hard when the cock being sucked isn't either. He pulled off of me and looked up. “I don't hear any clicking.”
There was my chance to end it. I wanted to. But, you know how it is. He actually looked appealing looking up at me and holding my cock that way. He had very sexy gray eyes. I took the shot and he took my cock back in his mouth. After some more shots he paused and asked to see the pictures.
I felt really stupid standing there in shredded pant with a hardon showing him the shots. He was critical. Annoyingly critical, I felt.
“Refo, ok, you can tell it's a blowjob, but you can't tell it's me. I mean, not really. Monster could cliam it was just a close resemblance. We need to show more of my face.” He paused and looked at the shots again. “Your dick looks pretty sweet though, doesn't it?”
There was another chance to end it, but I didn't. He knelt again and looked up at me, holding my dick in his hand and licking the tip. He licked the length of the shaft, and then he did a lot more. “Just for the camera,” he kept reassuring me. My problem was he was feeling more than good; I was sure he was just about the best cocksucker I'd ever been with.
“Ok,” I said. I was close to coming. “That's enough.” He didn't stop. He quickly deep-throated me and did something to my asshole. “I'm coming!” I announced. He held my cock so I shot in his face.
“Get the come shot!” he demanded.
I clicked away. He lapped everything up as I continued to shoot in both senses of the word. I have to tell you operating a camera is a good way to ruin an orgasm. I got no pleasure out of it. Well, ok, I did a little, but it definitely wasn't the best orgasm of my life.
He paused after cleaning my cock and his face off and I took a deep breath. “You're still hard,” he said with a smile.
“Yeah, sometimes I stay ...”
“Want to fuck me? Just for the camera, of course. We wouldn't have to ...”
“NO, I don't want to fuck you!”
I quickly dressed while he thanked me. “You'll sent me copies, right? My address is easy. It's ox at pigsinblankets dot com – all small letters. You know your cum tastes pretty sweet. If you ever want to do this again ...” I didn't let him finish; I left. “Don't forget about the pictures,” he called after me.
I almost ran out of the building. Forget? How could I forget? How fucking stupid! That's another thing I'll never forget. I said quick goodbyes to Marvin and Lex, hurried to my car, and spun the wheels in the gravel getting the hell out of there.
Ten miles later, just when I was getting my self-composure back, Frank's words came back to me. “What about fidelity, Reef?”
Fidelity, there's a fell word if there ever was one. But I really hadn't been unfaithful. The stupid blowjob hadn't been anything I went looking for. It just kind of happened. That's the truth. It was an accident. I almost had myself convinced. The trouble was it was a preventable accident. There were a couple of times I could have ended it. A better person would have ended it. And it wasn't even any fun. Ok, that no-fun part, that was unimportant, a cynical view of things; and I wasn't feeling cynical at all. I was feeling remorseful.
It served me right when the Mazda made that first sickening noise, followed by a metalic clatter and then a banging on the floorboards. Why do we still call them boards? Floorboards haven't been wood for almost a century. FUCK! my mind screamed. How can you be thinking about semantics when your car is on fire?
I pulled to the side of the road and got out as quickly as I could. Ok, no flames, but there had been sparks flying out behind me on the road. Still, I worried about fire when I had to reenter the Mazda to get my phone and camera equipment. Serves me right, I thought. Helpless frustration makes me want to cry sometimes, but I didn't. Fifty miles from home I stood on the roadside and calmly dialed Frank's number.
“The party you dialed is not available at this time. If you would like to leave a voice mail, please remain on the line.”
Refo, Refo, Refo.
You've GOT to learn how to be more assertive against forceful people.
Here's hoping Frank is forgiving.
You've GOT to learn how to be more assertive against forceful people.
Here's hoping Frank is forgiving.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Fifty-One
“Refo, 's up?”
“Butch, is Frank there? He's not answering his phone.”
“He and Mike are at an abandoned mine in West Virginia. Maybe they're underground or something.”
“Fuck!” I made it sound like the dying gasp of a duck full of buckshot. It worked. Good old Butch would be happy to pick me up. He arrived about an hour later, which seemed like forever as the sun declined and the day got colder. After another twenty minutes of tying a couple mattresses to his truck and my car we began towing the Mazda slowly, very slowly, to what would probably be its final resting place.
“Maybe if I smashed out the windows, I could plant flowers in it.”
Butch chuckled and offered a different suggestion. “What might be fun … if you want to ...”
“Say it, Butch.”
“You might could re-engine it, you know? With something hot! Built yourself a little pocket rocket. It wouldn't be cheap though, even if I did the work.”
“You?”
“I got nothing else to do until we go to Florida, to the studio again. It would take time. You'd need something else for the meantime.”
I had heard both Butch and Mike state reasons for not going back to the porn studio. “I thought Florida was off the table.”
“A problem,” Butch admitted. “We don't want to go and we do. Maybe I'm just talking about myself. I don't know. Butch wants to go 'cause it's quick money in a big amount. He's obsessed with paying his mortgage off. Then again, he doesn't want to go because … well, it's a real downer, doing the scenes. I mostly don't want to go because … because the studio wants to ...” Butch paused while we crested a hill and the Mazda bumped into his truck as gently as two mattresses would allow. “They want this idiot with the biggest dick anybody's ever seen to fuck Mike.”
“Wow. I thought Mike had the biggest dick anybody had ever seen.”
“You haven't seen the guys in porn. Some of 'em are total freaks.” Butch considered his words. “So what does that make me, huh?”
“It's better than chicken farming?”
“Yeah, I guess. But … I don't know what I'm doing, Reef. I can't stand being away from Mike but he … I don't think he feels exactly the same. You know? I'm sorry to be bothering you with you with this shit.”
Butch had laid out two of the “love, sex, and money” parts of Frank's remark. What about the sex?
“Yeah, the fuckin' sex!” Butch responded to my question vehemently and then lapsed into silence.
“What exactly?” I prodded.
“I'm happy with things the way they are, but Mike wants me to fuck him. Meanwhile the studio says if he's not a virgin when they shoot this ape fuckin' him, they'll know and they won't pay him. And he's so obsessed with the money that I don't want to risk it and then he blames me for fuckin' him … You know? But I want to fuck him. I mean I want to do what he wants to do. It's crazy.”
“So the solution would be … more money? I'd be glad to pay you to fix the Mazda.”
“It's not that easy. I already offered Mike the money I made from the porn but he won't take it. He says he's absolutely got to pay for the farm himself.”
“But other than that you're fine? I have to report to your grandmother.” I tried to lighten the mood.
“That's another thing, Reef. She's not my grandmother.”
“Whatever she is, she worries about you.” Butch said something is such a quiet voice I couldn't hear him over the engine noise. “What?”
“I said, she's my MOTHER.” Butch spoke up while looking straight ahead. “Not my grandmother.”
“So your other mother … the one who says she's your mother ...”
“Is being paid by Linda to say so and take care of me. We pretend that I'm maybe Randy's bastard or maybe his brother's bastard. Take your pick. I don't even know who my real father is … Linda just says he's dead. She's always offering me money and stuff, but … I'm glad to be away from them all.”
“Maybe Linda could help Mike pay ...”
“She buy him Rockingham County if I asked her to. But I'm not asking. It's the only ace I'm holding. It pisses her off that I won't take her money.”
“But ...”
“Let's not talk about it any more, ok?”
“Sure …” We still had half the distance to go. It was going to be a quiet ride if I didn't come up with something else to talk about. “So … I think I met an old friend of yours from high school. A guy named Ox.”
Butch laughed outloud. “Anytime I thought I had problems, there was always Ox to make them look tiny. So fucked up ... You know his high school ambition? To suck off every guy on the wrestling team. Except me. He said he knew I was gay and I wouldn't be a challenge ... which was interesting because at the time I didn't know I was gay. He was incredibly successful. He would tell guys crazy shit, completely absurd lies, anything he could think of to get 'em to whip it out for him.”
“And he was successful you say?” I began to wonder how well Ox had played me.
“Successful? He was amazing. I was looking at his yearbook senior summer. And I said, 'What are the check marks for?' 'Guy's I've given blowjobs to,' he says. 'What about the checkmarks with a line through them?' I ask. “We did more than blowjobs. If there's a tail on the bottom of the line it means I got fucked and if it's on top it means … ha, ha ... you can figure it out,' he says.”
“Lots of tails on the top?”
“No, mostly on the bottom, just a few on top. But one I remember. I never would have guessed the guy would do anything. Monster Mikulski was his name. A big guy, super straight, got a girl pregnant and all, not great looking, not like ...”
“Not good looking like you, you mean?”
“He was rugged looking, not pretty or anything, but sexy, you know? Very sexy. He could have had any girl he wanted and there were stories that he wanted a lot of 'em.” Butch paused to remember. “Man, he was hot. He never wore tight pants or anything, but you just KNEW he had a big dick. Ripe and ready.” Butch paused to conjure up a vision of Monster in his head.
“Yeah, um, so I guess Ox can add me to his check list.”
“Jeez! Really?”
I told him the story and Butch kept interrupting with coments like “Yeah! That just what he used to do” and “Oh, shit! Paper pants. He did that the summer he worked at Krol's, too” and “I told you, there were a LOT of check marks in his yearbook.”
“Yeah, so that's what my day was like.”
“Wow, what a line he fed you! On top of the Madza dying, not a great day, I would say.”
“Really.” We drove for a mile or two in silence. “I'm thinking I have to tell Frank.”
“Refo, I don't know Frank all that well, but if he's anything like Mike, I'd say don't tell him.”
“He'd find out somehow. I know he would. And I don't want to lie. So it's better just to tell him. Frank … I'll say … Frank … Shit. I don't know what I'll say.”
“I wouldn't do it, Reef. Just saying ...”
Butch dropped me and the Mazda off at the barn and then continued home.
Frank arrived about an hour later. I had time to shower and put on some fresh clothes to drive away the lingering stench of hogs and sex. “Frank ...” I lost my nerve.
“Yeah?” He was preoccupied, pulling stuff out of his dresser.
“Frank ...”
“What?”
“I met this guy today and it wasn't planned or anything but he gave me a blowjob.” I rushed the words out before I could stumble.
Frank didn't say anything. He kept getting clothes out of his dresser.
“Frank? Did you hear me?”
He stopped and looked at me. The pain on his face made me want to cry. “I heard you, Refo. Mike and I are going back to the mine tonight.” He stuffed the clothes he had picked out into a backpack. “I'm not sure how long we'll be.” He ran a hand across his face; his expression was torturing me. He sniffled, glanced at me, and then looked away. “I'll call you.”
“When?”
“I don't know.” He put the backpack on and walked toward the door.
“Frank. I can explain. It wasn't ...”
“I don't want to hear.” He closed the door quietly and soon I heard his truck drive away.
“Refo, 's up?”
“Butch, is Frank there? He's not answering his phone.”
“He and Mike are at an abandoned mine in West Virginia. Maybe they're underground or something.”
“Fuck!” I made it sound like the dying gasp of a duck full of buckshot. It worked. Good old Butch would be happy to pick me up. He arrived about an hour later, which seemed like forever as the sun declined and the day got colder. After another twenty minutes of tying a couple mattresses to his truck and my car we began towing the Mazda slowly, very slowly, to what would probably be its final resting place.
“Maybe if I smashed out the windows, I could plant flowers in it.”
Butch chuckled and offered a different suggestion. “What might be fun … if you want to ...”
“Say it, Butch.”
“You might could re-engine it, you know? With something hot! Built yourself a little pocket rocket. It wouldn't be cheap though, even if I did the work.”
“You?”
“I got nothing else to do until we go to Florida, to the studio again. It would take time. You'd need something else for the meantime.”
I had heard both Butch and Mike state reasons for not going back to the porn studio. “I thought Florida was off the table.”
“A problem,” Butch admitted. “We don't want to go and we do. Maybe I'm just talking about myself. I don't know. Butch wants to go 'cause it's quick money in a big amount. He's obsessed with paying his mortgage off. Then again, he doesn't want to go because … well, it's a real downer, doing the scenes. I mostly don't want to go because … because the studio wants to ...” Butch paused while we crested a hill and the Mazda bumped into his truck as gently as two mattresses would allow. “They want this idiot with the biggest dick anybody's ever seen to fuck Mike.”
“Wow. I thought Mike had the biggest dick anybody had ever seen.”
“You haven't seen the guys in porn. Some of 'em are total freaks.” Butch considered his words. “So what does that make me, huh?”
“It's better than chicken farming?”
“Yeah, I guess. But … I don't know what I'm doing, Reef. I can't stand being away from Mike but he … I don't think he feels exactly the same. You know? I'm sorry to be bothering you with you with this shit.”
Butch had laid out two of the “love, sex, and money” parts of Frank's remark. What about the sex?
“Yeah, the fuckin' sex!” Butch responded to my question vehemently and then lapsed into silence.
“What exactly?” I prodded.
“I'm happy with things the way they are, but Mike wants me to fuck him. Meanwhile the studio says if he's not a virgin when they shoot this ape fuckin' him, they'll know and they won't pay him. And he's so obsessed with the money that I don't want to risk it and then he blames me for fuckin' him … You know? But I want to fuck him. I mean I want to do what he wants to do. It's crazy.”
“So the solution would be … more money? I'd be glad to pay you to fix the Mazda.”
“It's not that easy. I already offered Mike the money I made from the porn but he won't take it. He says he's absolutely got to pay for the farm himself.”
“But other than that you're fine? I have to report to your grandmother.” I tried to lighten the mood.
“That's another thing, Reef. She's not my grandmother.”
“Whatever she is, she worries about you.” Butch said something is such a quiet voice I couldn't hear him over the engine noise. “What?”
“I said, she's my MOTHER.” Butch spoke up while looking straight ahead. “Not my grandmother.”
“So your other mother … the one who says she's your mother ...”
“Is being paid by Linda to say so and take care of me. We pretend that I'm maybe Randy's bastard or maybe his brother's bastard. Take your pick. I don't even know who my real father is … Linda just says he's dead. She's always offering me money and stuff, but … I'm glad to be away from them all.”
“Maybe Linda could help Mike pay ...”
“She buy him Rockingham County if I asked her to. But I'm not asking. It's the only ace I'm holding. It pisses her off that I won't take her money.”
“But ...”
“Let's not talk about it any more, ok?”
“Sure …” We still had half the distance to go. It was going to be a quiet ride if I didn't come up with something else to talk about. “So … I think I met an old friend of yours from high school. A guy named Ox.”
Butch laughed outloud. “Anytime I thought I had problems, there was always Ox to make them look tiny. So fucked up ... You know his high school ambition? To suck off every guy on the wrestling team. Except me. He said he knew I was gay and I wouldn't be a challenge ... which was interesting because at the time I didn't know I was gay. He was incredibly successful. He would tell guys crazy shit, completely absurd lies, anything he could think of to get 'em to whip it out for him.”
“And he was successful you say?” I began to wonder how well Ox had played me.
“Successful? He was amazing. I was looking at his yearbook senior summer. And I said, 'What are the check marks for?' 'Guy's I've given blowjobs to,' he says. 'What about the checkmarks with a line through them?' I ask. “We did more than blowjobs. If there's a tail on the bottom of the line it means I got fucked and if it's on top it means … ha, ha ... you can figure it out,' he says.”
“Lots of tails on the top?”
“No, mostly on the bottom, just a few on top. But one I remember. I never would have guessed the guy would do anything. Monster Mikulski was his name. A big guy, super straight, got a girl pregnant and all, not great looking, not like ...”
“Not good looking like you, you mean?”
“He was rugged looking, not pretty or anything, but sexy, you know? Very sexy. He could have had any girl he wanted and there were stories that he wanted a lot of 'em.” Butch paused to remember. “Man, he was hot. He never wore tight pants or anything, but you just KNEW he had a big dick. Ripe and ready.” Butch paused to conjure up a vision of Monster in his head.
“Yeah, um, so I guess Ox can add me to his check list.”
“Jeez! Really?”
I told him the story and Butch kept interrupting with coments like “Yeah! That just what he used to do” and “Oh, shit! Paper pants. He did that the summer he worked at Krol's, too” and “I told you, there were a LOT of check marks in his yearbook.”
“Yeah, so that's what my day was like.”
“Wow, what a line he fed you! On top of the Madza dying, not a great day, I would say.”
“Really.” We drove for a mile or two in silence. “I'm thinking I have to tell Frank.”
“Refo, I don't know Frank all that well, but if he's anything like Mike, I'd say don't tell him.”
“He'd find out somehow. I know he would. And I don't want to lie. So it's better just to tell him. Frank … I'll say … Frank … Shit. I don't know what I'll say.”
“I wouldn't do it, Reef. Just saying ...”
Butch dropped me and the Mazda off at the barn and then continued home.
Frank arrived about an hour later. I had time to shower and put on some fresh clothes to drive away the lingering stench of hogs and sex. “Frank ...” I lost my nerve.
“Yeah?” He was preoccupied, pulling stuff out of his dresser.
“Frank ...”
“What?”
“I met this guy today and it wasn't planned or anything but he gave me a blowjob.” I rushed the words out before I could stumble.
Frank didn't say anything. He kept getting clothes out of his dresser.
“Frank? Did you hear me?”
He stopped and looked at me. The pain on his face made me want to cry. “I heard you, Refo. Mike and I are going back to the mine tonight.” He stuffed the clothes he had picked out into a backpack. “I'm not sure how long we'll be.” He ran a hand across his face; his expression was torturing me. He sniffled, glanced at me, and then looked away. “I'll call you.”
“When?”
“I don't know.” He put the backpack on and walked toward the door.
“Frank. I can explain. It wasn't ...”
“I don't want to hear.” He closed the door quietly and soon I heard his truck drive away.
Betrayal of a most sacred trust by the one you saw as your lifemate.
Man. Hurt doesn't begin to cover it.
Man. Hurt doesn't begin to cover it.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
But ... but ... it wasn't his fault! Honest!
No, it was yours!
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Leaving town for a week or so. I hoped to get a chapter posted but it didn't happen. Sorry.
We're heart broken. We feel used and abused and thrown out with the trash. 
On another front, have a good, safe, fun trip.
On another front, have a good, safe, fun trip.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Fifty-Two
“You look like shit!”
“I haven't seen you for days and that's all you can say?” Charlie looked at me wanting an explanation. “The Mazda died. I have to buy a new car. Do you want some coffee or something?”
“This is the country, Refo! You're supposed to be up at dawn, slopping the pigs and feeding … me, for example.”
“I got toast and coffee and … that's about it.”
“Pathetic. What's wrong with you?”
“”Well, let's see. My professional career is hanging by a thread. I have no transportation and I'm about a hundred miles from where I should be. I was alone last night and I want to go back to bed.” Instead I put water on the stove and sliced some bread for toasting.
“I need you in a cheery mood,” Charlie said, smiling hopefully.
“Why? What's the big deal in your life?” I didn't mean to snarl at him.
“Um … You know Jody and I have been more or less living together for a while and I'm his lawyer and, all things considered, it's a very comfortable arrangement.”
“Get to the point,” I prodded him.
“But, it could be a lot better if ...”
“Just say it, Charlie.”
“If we got married.” He paused and took a breath. “Then I could call the place in Manassas my office, which it would be, and we could build something on the land by the river, and Jody could be on my health policy and by averaging our incomes … and getting the hell out of the grasping clutches of the District of Columbia for good … we could save about seventy thousand a year.”
“Really, that much … amazing. So what's the problem?”
“The problem is it would just be a professional arrangement, of course, not a personal relationship. Not a real marriage.”
“Yes, you've said that before. Why is it a problem now?”
“It's daunting, Refo! Married! That's serious in a way I've never really considered before. Tax consequences are one thing, but married ...” Charlie rolled his eyes. “It's an option that's so new for gays like us, I'm still adjusting to it.”
“Do you love him?”
“Of course not. Jody and I are well suited professionally and comfortable with each other; that's all she wrote. But seventy thousand! For essentially nothing. It's just lying on the table like a tip for the waiter.”
“It sounds reasonable. It wouldn't have to be forever, right? What's Jody think?” I poured the coffees.
“I haven't said anything to him yet.”
“You'll kind of have to if you want him to marry you.” My impatience showed
“I know that. It's just … MARRIAGE, Refo! It's a little frightening.”
“It's supposed to be. I was terrified thinking of marrying Sarah Felsen.”
“So how did you do it? That's what I came to find out. Excellent apricot jam, by the way.”
“I felt sorry for her and I knew it wasn't forever. Plus it was her idea. That helped.”
A horn honked followed quickly by Butch coming in the door. “Morning, all. Ready to buy some cool wheels, Reef?”
“Cool?” Charlie and I both asked.
“On the surface it's a Dodge Ram, but underneath it's awesome. I've seen it go through four feet of mud at speed. It's got hydraulics to raise the body and a breather so the air intake and exhaust are ...”
“Whoa! I could never afford all that.”
“You could … it's a bargain.” Butch was smiling like a proud father. “I know what you're thinkin'; but it's in great shape. The owner, uh, he's going to Powhatan for a while. Like maybe five to seven years. His wife is pissed. She's practically giving the truck away for ten thousand.”
“I always thought that was pronounced Poe-uh-tawn,” Charlie inserted.
“Nope, rhymes with Manhattan. So what do you think, Reef? You interested? Might be fun just to test drive it, right?” Butch looked for my answer and then frowned when he read my expression. “Oh, shit, you told him, didn't you?” I nodded and he shook his head. “I warned you. Big mistake. OK, so call me if you want it.”
“What? What am I not getting here?” Charlie demanded.
Charlie's reaction to my answer was, “Why am I asking you for advice? Butch told you what to do and you totally ignored him.” Butch refrained from piling on.
“My mistake was mentioning it at all. I should have kept it between Frank and me.” I made it clear I wasn't looking for any further discussion. I got help from my phone. It was a text from Frank.
“Use my truck. See you on Wednesday, he says.”
“That mine is a big job if they get it. Some guy bought an old feldspar mine and wants to turn it into a house, or something. Mike thinks he's nuts to want to live in a hole in the ground. Gotta go. Call if you're interested in the Dodge, Reef,” Butch left as suddenly as he had arrived.
“I can see you driving a truck,” Charlie mused. “Not metrosexual, exactly; more rura-sexual. Is that a word?”
“No, thank God.”
“Tight jeans. Rolled up sleeves. Let your hair grow a little. I can see it, Reef. You'd look as hot as Frank.” He smiled, knowing he pissed me off a little.
Two hours later, with Merle acting impatient in the front seat, I prowled upper NW Washington looking for a parking space. I ended up parking three blocks from my place and Merle delayed things while he pissed on every blade of grass over the three blocks.
“Stan! You home?” I called through the door. “I gotta leave Merle upstairs. Ok?”
“Refo ...” he opened the door and whispered. “Is it normal for your dick to hurt after sex?”
“Depends … What did you do?”
“Euie. About four times, although I didn't come the last time. It stings.”
“Any discharge?”
“What?”
“Puss, blood, anything but piss coming out of your dick?”
“No.”
“Don't worry about it then. Not yet anyway. Ok about stashing Merle?”
“Sure. Leave him with me, in fact.”
When I got back to the truck, there was a ticket on the windshield. I had three days to mail half my life's savings to the District of Columbia or a bench warrant would be issued. Then at work I had to go through a search because I had left my vehicle pass in the faithless Mazda. They did everything but a body cavity search before they let me in. Fuck. What a day. In fact that's exactly what I said to Sarah Felsen.
“What's a bench warrant anyway?” I asked her.
“It means you violated a court order and are subject to detainment unless you comply by a specified date.”
“How do you know?”
“Experience,” she answered with a smile. “Your paper, Refo … I think it's ready. The write-up and the presentation, anyway.”
“There's one set of data I want to rerun.”
“I could do it for you. That would definitely prove replicability. Why don't you let me?”
“Why are you being so … helpful all of a sudden?”
“Refo, about those lesbians ...”
“Marv and Lex? Ah-hah, you do remember them.”
“It was a college thing. Experimentation time. You know what that's like, right?”
“I should keep my mouth shut?” She had to be leading up to something. I'd be lucky if it was as simple as just keeping quiet.
“Not exactly. I'd like it if you mentioned me to them. Say that I remembered them and asked you to say hello.”
“Are you planning to revert to ...”
“I'm not planning ANYTHING, Refo. You're always so suspicious. There is no PLAN. AT. ALL. Just tell them hello, ok?”
Obviously, she was planning something. I couldn't see how it would be to my disadvantage to pass her greetings on to Marv and Lex, but that was because she was so brilliantly devious. As usual I would probably find out only after it was too late.
The day dragged while I waited to see my boss to update him. “One more data set to verify, and we're ready. Sarah Felsen is going to rerun the data.”
“She is such a helpful addition, don't you think? Always first to step into the breech. A real find, I must say. If only all my hires were as good as Dr. Felsen.” He left the impression that I was one of the not-so-good.
I left work at the magic time. Late enough to avoid the 3:30 slackers and early enough to avoid the 6:30 desperadoes. Both groups drove dangerously although they did it in different ways both characterized by selfishness and a failure to comprehend the merge maneuver in traffic. My karma held and I found a generous parking place only a block from home. I was looking forward to a quick bite and an early bedtime.
Stan was waiting for me. “Refo, I think something's wrong with Merle. I think he's going blind.”
Suddenly my other problems became little ones.
“You look like shit!”
“I haven't seen you for days and that's all you can say?” Charlie looked at me wanting an explanation. “The Mazda died. I have to buy a new car. Do you want some coffee or something?”
“This is the country, Refo! You're supposed to be up at dawn, slopping the pigs and feeding … me, for example.”
“I got toast and coffee and … that's about it.”
“Pathetic. What's wrong with you?”
“”Well, let's see. My professional career is hanging by a thread. I have no transportation and I'm about a hundred miles from where I should be. I was alone last night and I want to go back to bed.” Instead I put water on the stove and sliced some bread for toasting.
“I need you in a cheery mood,” Charlie said, smiling hopefully.
“Why? What's the big deal in your life?” I didn't mean to snarl at him.
“Um … You know Jody and I have been more or less living together for a while and I'm his lawyer and, all things considered, it's a very comfortable arrangement.”
“Get to the point,” I prodded him.
“But, it could be a lot better if ...”
“Just say it, Charlie.”
“If we got married.” He paused and took a breath. “Then I could call the place in Manassas my office, which it would be, and we could build something on the land by the river, and Jody could be on my health policy and by averaging our incomes … and getting the hell out of the grasping clutches of the District of Columbia for good … we could save about seventy thousand a year.”
“Really, that much … amazing. So what's the problem?”
“The problem is it would just be a professional arrangement, of course, not a personal relationship. Not a real marriage.”
“Yes, you've said that before. Why is it a problem now?”
“It's daunting, Refo! Married! That's serious in a way I've never really considered before. Tax consequences are one thing, but married ...” Charlie rolled his eyes. “It's an option that's so new for gays like us, I'm still adjusting to it.”
“Do you love him?”
“Of course not. Jody and I are well suited professionally and comfortable with each other; that's all she wrote. But seventy thousand! For essentially nothing. It's just lying on the table like a tip for the waiter.”
“It sounds reasonable. It wouldn't have to be forever, right? What's Jody think?” I poured the coffees.
“I haven't said anything to him yet.”
“You'll kind of have to if you want him to marry you.” My impatience showed
“I know that. It's just … MARRIAGE, Refo! It's a little frightening.”
“It's supposed to be. I was terrified thinking of marrying Sarah Felsen.”
“So how did you do it? That's what I came to find out. Excellent apricot jam, by the way.”
“I felt sorry for her and I knew it wasn't forever. Plus it was her idea. That helped.”
A horn honked followed quickly by Butch coming in the door. “Morning, all. Ready to buy some cool wheels, Reef?”
“Cool?” Charlie and I both asked.
“On the surface it's a Dodge Ram, but underneath it's awesome. I've seen it go through four feet of mud at speed. It's got hydraulics to raise the body and a breather so the air intake and exhaust are ...”
“Whoa! I could never afford all that.”
“You could … it's a bargain.” Butch was smiling like a proud father. “I know what you're thinkin'; but it's in great shape. The owner, uh, he's going to Powhatan for a while. Like maybe five to seven years. His wife is pissed. She's practically giving the truck away for ten thousand.”
“I always thought that was pronounced Poe-uh-tawn,” Charlie inserted.
“Nope, rhymes with Manhattan. So what do you think, Reef? You interested? Might be fun just to test drive it, right?” Butch looked for my answer and then frowned when he read my expression. “Oh, shit, you told him, didn't you?” I nodded and he shook his head. “I warned you. Big mistake. OK, so call me if you want it.”
“What? What am I not getting here?” Charlie demanded.
Charlie's reaction to my answer was, “Why am I asking you for advice? Butch told you what to do and you totally ignored him.” Butch refrained from piling on.
“My mistake was mentioning it at all. I should have kept it between Frank and me.” I made it clear I wasn't looking for any further discussion. I got help from my phone. It was a text from Frank.
“Use my truck. See you on Wednesday, he says.”
“That mine is a big job if they get it. Some guy bought an old feldspar mine and wants to turn it into a house, or something. Mike thinks he's nuts to want to live in a hole in the ground. Gotta go. Call if you're interested in the Dodge, Reef,” Butch left as suddenly as he had arrived.
“I can see you driving a truck,” Charlie mused. “Not metrosexual, exactly; more rura-sexual. Is that a word?”
“No, thank God.”
“Tight jeans. Rolled up sleeves. Let your hair grow a little. I can see it, Reef. You'd look as hot as Frank.” He smiled, knowing he pissed me off a little.
Two hours later, with Merle acting impatient in the front seat, I prowled upper NW Washington looking for a parking space. I ended up parking three blocks from my place and Merle delayed things while he pissed on every blade of grass over the three blocks.
“Stan! You home?” I called through the door. “I gotta leave Merle upstairs. Ok?”
“Refo ...” he opened the door and whispered. “Is it normal for your dick to hurt after sex?”
“Depends … What did you do?”
“Euie. About four times, although I didn't come the last time. It stings.”
“Any discharge?”
“What?”
“Puss, blood, anything but piss coming out of your dick?”
“No.”
“Don't worry about it then. Not yet anyway. Ok about stashing Merle?”
“Sure. Leave him with me, in fact.”
When I got back to the truck, there was a ticket on the windshield. I had three days to mail half my life's savings to the District of Columbia or a bench warrant would be issued. Then at work I had to go through a search because I had left my vehicle pass in the faithless Mazda. They did everything but a body cavity search before they let me in. Fuck. What a day. In fact that's exactly what I said to Sarah Felsen.
“What's a bench warrant anyway?” I asked her.
“It means you violated a court order and are subject to detainment unless you comply by a specified date.”
“How do you know?”
“Experience,” she answered with a smile. “Your paper, Refo … I think it's ready. The write-up and the presentation, anyway.”
“There's one set of data I want to rerun.”
“I could do it for you. That would definitely prove replicability. Why don't you let me?”
“Why are you being so … helpful all of a sudden?”
“Refo, about those lesbians ...”
“Marv and Lex? Ah-hah, you do remember them.”
“It was a college thing. Experimentation time. You know what that's like, right?”
“I should keep my mouth shut?” She had to be leading up to something. I'd be lucky if it was as simple as just keeping quiet.
“Not exactly. I'd like it if you mentioned me to them. Say that I remembered them and asked you to say hello.”
“Are you planning to revert to ...”
“I'm not planning ANYTHING, Refo. You're always so suspicious. There is no PLAN. AT. ALL. Just tell them hello, ok?”
Obviously, she was planning something. I couldn't see how it would be to my disadvantage to pass her greetings on to Marv and Lex, but that was because she was so brilliantly devious. As usual I would probably find out only after it was too late.
The day dragged while I waited to see my boss to update him. “One more data set to verify, and we're ready. Sarah Felsen is going to rerun the data.”
“She is such a helpful addition, don't you think? Always first to step into the breech. A real find, I must say. If only all my hires were as good as Dr. Felsen.” He left the impression that I was one of the not-so-good.
I left work at the magic time. Late enough to avoid the 3:30 slackers and early enough to avoid the 6:30 desperadoes. Both groups drove dangerously although they did it in different ways both characterized by selfishness and a failure to comprehend the merge maneuver in traffic. My karma held and I found a generous parking place only a block from home. I was looking forward to a quick bite and an early bedtime.
Stan was waiting for me. “Refo, I think something's wrong with Merle. I think he's going blind.”
Suddenly my other problems became little ones.
Wow. That was a chapter with a nasty ending.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Fifty-Three
Are you good at making quick assessments based on first impressions? I'm not. Nevertheless, the doctor's name, his carefully tended appearance, his too tight scrubs, plus the fact he checked me out before looking at Merle made me wonder if Lance Lampedusa, Doctor of Veterinary Medicine, just might just be a little gay.
“A double-merle!” he exclaimed while eying my crotch a second time. “What's his name?”
“Merle.”
“Yes, of course. And you think he's going blind? Well, that wouldn't be uncommon among double-merles. They're a lot like human albinos; weak vision is very common. The good news is there is probably nothing else wrong with him ... just like there's nothing wrong with you.” He gave me a significant glance.
“Do you always hit on your patients?” It annoyed me that Merle was not his first interest.
“I'm not hitting on the dog, I'm hitting on you.” He checked to gauge my reaction and was disappointed. “Working in an all-night animal hospital is very limiting socially; I have to make the most of what comes in the door.. You'd be surprised how many gay guys bring in their animal companions at night.”
“Yeah, well, I'm taken.”
“Uh-huh. So I wasn't wrong about you. I have to work with what I get.”
“Could you work on my dog, please?”
“No temperature. No pain. There's nothing to work on, really. It's genetic. We'll prescribe some salve that he'll hate and sell you some sun glasses that he'll love.”
“Sun glasses for a dog?”
“Oakley makes a very nice model for $159.95. It would look good with his coloring.”
“I don't pay that much for my own sun glasses! Are you sure he'll wear them?”
“Yes, I guessed that about your sunglasses. Dog's aren't dumb, you know. Once he realizes what they do for his daylight vision, he'll be happy to wear them.”
Ok, I have to admit Doctor L had a way with dogs. Merle was quite happy to make his acquaintance, enjoying the ear scratches and shoulder massages from the doctor. He submitted patiently for the rectal thermometer thing and sat while the glasses were fitted to his face. Once the bindings were tightened Merle had that hey-look-at-me attitude that dogs sometimes get when they try something new. Truthfully, Merle looked quite dashing and much more intelligent. The glasses did go well with his coat.
“Some people like to add a bandana, but they tend to be retriever-people.” Doctor L clearly implied that retriever-people were second-class citizens. “I think Merle looks perfectly good
without.”
He gave me some more details on how to adapt Merle to the glasses and then processed my debit card, nicking my bank account for a small fortune. “Here's a coupon for twenty percent off on the next pair of glasses. You could use it for yourself if you want. You'd look good in Oakleys, too.” He meant the compliment sincerely, no longer flirting.
“You are here all night?”
“Yes, after ten or so it gets really boring, but I have to do it – I'm work my way into a full partnership the hard way.”
“So you could actually entertain a guest?”
“Sure. At this time of night, midweek, there's rarely any business and lots of privacy.”
I smiled at the doctor and called a number. “Jawan? Do you still take private clients? There's this guy … great potential … works odd hours and can't work out … You can? Great ...” Doctor L nodded enthusiastically, so I gave Jawan the details and clicked off. “This guy is a personal trainer. The first session is free, but I have to warn you he'll try to sign you up for a long-term deal. Long-term or not, I think you'll be happy to know him.”
I was surprised at how long the visit to the animal hospital had taken. I had over-reacted and texted Frank about Merle's condition. I sent a second text before driving back home. By the time we got there, it was eleven at night, a terrible time for parking even with something the Mazda's size. With Frank's truck, I circled several blocks before finding a spot. At least Merle enjoyed the long walk home; his night vision was still good. I'd need some time tomorrow to try him in the daylight. He slept with me that night and it was a comforting thing to have him at my feet.
We woke to a bright sky making the morning walk a challenge. He wouldn't tolerate the glasses on in the apartment so we went out without them. In the light he squinted pitifully and let me put the glasses in place. Revelation! True magic! The dog was happy; I was happy; and the walk went well. We got some admiring glances from passers-by and a question about the glasses from a cute guy. Ok, I flirted a little but it was innocent fun.
“I was only talking to him, Merle,” I explained as we walked on. “Like ships passing in the daytime. No threat to Frank.” Merle seemed placated; but then he hadn't heard the story about Ox and the blow job.
“Stan!” I greeted my landlord. “How's your … uh, things?”
“Damn, Refo, much better thanks. The pain was terrible. It was like having the clap. Say, I like the shades on Merle. Very metrosexual! You know, I used to think that meant fuckin' on the subway.” Stan laughed at his joke.
“The pain was nature's way of saying twice a night is enough,” I sympathized.
“That may be good for nature, but Euie likes a good dickin',“ called Euie from inside the apartment.
“Play it out. Make it last longer,” I suggested to Stan.
“If I'm not coming, Euie thinks I'm not enjoying it.”
“Talk to him. You'll work it out.” So easy to give advice, so hard to take it.
“Well, I figured out how to work it in; I guess working it out should be easier.” Stan laughed again at his own joke and then grinned broadly. “Refo, I'm happy. Totally happy. Who'd a ever thought, huh? Want me to walk Merle today?”
“Thanks, but I'm only working half a day. I'll take car of it.”
Only working half a day? When did I decide that? It just came out of my mouth. Like it was something I had planned. I ached to go home. Wait a sec, I told myself: one 'N' Jenifer Street is my home. I wanted to go to Frank's home. It didn't take much further analysis to make me realize how much I missed Frank. I didn't really care about location; I wanted Frank. I wanted to touch him. I ached for him, not a barn in the country.
“Two hours, Merle. I'll be back in two hours,” I promised. “Then we're going to see Frank.” My excitement was contagious; Merle wagged his tail and jumped in expectation.
Two hours turned into three, since Sarah Felsen had not completed her rerun of my data tables, but finally she agreed with my first set of data. I pressed send and my paper was on its electronic way to what I hoped would be my publisher. I was 99% sure I could not improve it if I spent another year trying. All I had to do was wait for the peer review process with its inevitable minor changes to conclude, and one way or another the paper was done
“You'll remember to say hi to Marv and Lex, right?” Sarah asked as I tried to leave.
I confirmed and left, picked up Merle, and headed southwest. Marv and Lex, I thought. What is she up to with them? Them … pigs … pig shit ... I need to do something about the pig … I was automatically calling it 'pig shit' and stopped in my mental tracks. Pig shit? Is that what I really think of the idea of pig photography? The photos are shit? Let's face it, the animals aren't photogenic in any kind of anthropomorphic way. “Charlotte's Web” and “Babe” aside, pigs just don't generate the kind of sympathetic reaction a cute puppy or kitten can elicit. So, yes, Refo, I told myself, trust your instincts. The pigs are out. Not gonna happen. Need a new idea. A totally new concept.
“Merle, what do you think of pigs?” I asked. It was hard to read his reaction because of the sunglasses. He just licked his chops and turned to looking out the window. “You'd just eat the pigs, huh? Well, that makes sense … if you're a dog.”
We got to the barn and Merle was out of the truck as fast as possible. He ran to the door and whined for entry. I couldn't open it fast enough for him. He charged across the room and jumped onto the sofa and into Frank's arms. If I had the sense of a dog, I'd have done the same thing.
“Frank! You're back! Butch said the mine job might last all week. Your truck is fine, by the way. No damage!” He was wrapped in a blanket; the television was on. He punched a button on the remote and turned it off. It was then I realized the barn was cold. He held the blanket open as an invitation.
“Join me before you freeze to death. I'm too tired to fuck with the furnace right now.”
“I gotta shower. I'll be two seconds. Take Merle's glasses off, ok?” I have learned to shower after being at the lab. No matter how careful I am – even if I'm nowhere near a bench – I get covered in acids, poisons, other exciting substances. The lab gunk eventually dissolves all my clothes, so it's gotta be doing something to people, too. Showers are essential. And freezing cold. The water heater must have gopne out along with the furnace. My howl on entering the cold water brought Merle and Frank running. After the world's fastest shower, I exited and toweled off.
“I don't mind if you're a little wet. Come on,” Frank urged. He wrapped me in his blanket and we walked back to the sofa in silence. I started to talk. “Shh,” Frank interrupted and kissed me. He didn't stop. He kissed me over and over. “Why am I wearing clothes?” he asked no one in particular and pulled them off. Naked under the blanket we embraced again to ward off the chill.
“Frank, I'm so sorry ...” I began. He put his finger to my lips.
“Don't tell me you're sorry, Reef. Just tell me you love me.”
He kissed me before I could tell him anything. I remembered what he had said. I did my best to tell him I loved him with my body. I wanted him. I gasped when his cock entered me. I needed him and ignored the pain. Inside my head my body screamed fuck me. I'm pretty sure Frank heard it, too. Gradually I melted under his touch as we coupled. I knew I was home. I knew I was loved.
When we relaxed, I again started to apologize, but he wouldn't let me. “One rule is all I want, Reef. Just one: if you ever stop loving me, say so and end it. Don't string me along.”
“Frank, my life comes in two parts. The part when I started loving you and some other part that I don't remember much about any more. You are the love of my life. I never knew what that meant before. Now I do. Whatever happens in the future isn't going to change anything. If we live to be a hundred, I will love you. If you leave me, I will love you. You're part of me. Always. Forever.”
We kissed. We caressed in the afternoon light. We gave each other pointless assurances of love, pointless because the physicality of our love seemed so much more real. His body invited my love and I answered his call. How fucking him seemed so passive for me, I will probably never understand, but the fact my cock was in him still felt to me like I was getting fucked. Even when he came first, it still felt like he was dominating me. “Fuck me, Frankie,” I begged when it was my turn to come in him.
The room was completely dark when we paused. “I should fix the furnace,” Frank said.
“Screw the furnace; stay with me. You can keep warm fuckin' me.”
He thought that was a good idea, but somehow in our confusion of sharing body parts I fucked him again. “Oh shit, you were supposed to be the one doing the ...”
“Doesn't matter,” he said. “I like it when you just take charge and dominate me.” He laughed at himself. “First time I ever said that. I always used to be the top. Now I'm getting fucked and loving it.”
“Stan fucked Euie four times one night and thought his dick was gonna fall off.”
“Refo, he's fifty years old. Four times? I'm wiped out after three.”
“If we get up and I make some dinner and you fix the furnace, I bet you could ...”
He crushed me in his arms and kissed me and laughed. “I missed you so much, babe. I hated being down that mine. That's never gonna happen again.”
Are you good at making quick assessments based on first impressions? I'm not. Nevertheless, the doctor's name, his carefully tended appearance, his too tight scrubs, plus the fact he checked me out before looking at Merle made me wonder if Lance Lampedusa, Doctor of Veterinary Medicine, just might just be a little gay.
“A double-merle!” he exclaimed while eying my crotch a second time. “What's his name?”
“Merle.”
“Yes, of course. And you think he's going blind? Well, that wouldn't be uncommon among double-merles. They're a lot like human albinos; weak vision is very common. The good news is there is probably nothing else wrong with him ... just like there's nothing wrong with you.” He gave me a significant glance.
“Do you always hit on your patients?” It annoyed me that Merle was not his first interest.
“I'm not hitting on the dog, I'm hitting on you.” He checked to gauge my reaction and was disappointed. “Working in an all-night animal hospital is very limiting socially; I have to make the most of what comes in the door.. You'd be surprised how many gay guys bring in their animal companions at night.”
“Yeah, well, I'm taken.”
“Uh-huh. So I wasn't wrong about you. I have to work with what I get.”
“Could you work on my dog, please?”
“No temperature. No pain. There's nothing to work on, really. It's genetic. We'll prescribe some salve that he'll hate and sell you some sun glasses that he'll love.”
“Sun glasses for a dog?”
“Oakley makes a very nice model for $159.95. It would look good with his coloring.”
“I don't pay that much for my own sun glasses! Are you sure he'll wear them?”
“Yes, I guessed that about your sunglasses. Dog's aren't dumb, you know. Once he realizes what they do for his daylight vision, he'll be happy to wear them.”
Ok, I have to admit Doctor L had a way with dogs. Merle was quite happy to make his acquaintance, enjoying the ear scratches and shoulder massages from the doctor. He submitted patiently for the rectal thermometer thing and sat while the glasses were fitted to his face. Once the bindings were tightened Merle had that hey-look-at-me attitude that dogs sometimes get when they try something new. Truthfully, Merle looked quite dashing and much more intelligent. The glasses did go well with his coat.
“Some people like to add a bandana, but they tend to be retriever-people.” Doctor L clearly implied that retriever-people were second-class citizens. “I think Merle looks perfectly good
without.”
He gave me some more details on how to adapt Merle to the glasses and then processed my debit card, nicking my bank account for a small fortune. “Here's a coupon for twenty percent off on the next pair of glasses. You could use it for yourself if you want. You'd look good in Oakleys, too.” He meant the compliment sincerely, no longer flirting.
“You are here all night?”
“Yes, after ten or so it gets really boring, but I have to do it – I'm work my way into a full partnership the hard way.”
“So you could actually entertain a guest?”
“Sure. At this time of night, midweek, there's rarely any business and lots of privacy.”
I smiled at the doctor and called a number. “Jawan? Do you still take private clients? There's this guy … great potential … works odd hours and can't work out … You can? Great ...” Doctor L nodded enthusiastically, so I gave Jawan the details and clicked off. “This guy is a personal trainer. The first session is free, but I have to warn you he'll try to sign you up for a long-term deal. Long-term or not, I think you'll be happy to know him.”
I was surprised at how long the visit to the animal hospital had taken. I had over-reacted and texted Frank about Merle's condition. I sent a second text before driving back home. By the time we got there, it was eleven at night, a terrible time for parking even with something the Mazda's size. With Frank's truck, I circled several blocks before finding a spot. At least Merle enjoyed the long walk home; his night vision was still good. I'd need some time tomorrow to try him in the daylight. He slept with me that night and it was a comforting thing to have him at my feet.
We woke to a bright sky making the morning walk a challenge. He wouldn't tolerate the glasses on in the apartment so we went out without them. In the light he squinted pitifully and let me put the glasses in place. Revelation! True magic! The dog was happy; I was happy; and the walk went well. We got some admiring glances from passers-by and a question about the glasses from a cute guy. Ok, I flirted a little but it was innocent fun.
“I was only talking to him, Merle,” I explained as we walked on. “Like ships passing in the daytime. No threat to Frank.” Merle seemed placated; but then he hadn't heard the story about Ox and the blow job.
“Stan!” I greeted my landlord. “How's your … uh, things?”
“Damn, Refo, much better thanks. The pain was terrible. It was like having the clap. Say, I like the shades on Merle. Very metrosexual! You know, I used to think that meant fuckin' on the subway.” Stan laughed at his joke.
“The pain was nature's way of saying twice a night is enough,” I sympathized.
“That may be good for nature, but Euie likes a good dickin',“ called Euie from inside the apartment.
“Play it out. Make it last longer,” I suggested to Stan.
“If I'm not coming, Euie thinks I'm not enjoying it.”
“Talk to him. You'll work it out.” So easy to give advice, so hard to take it.
“Well, I figured out how to work it in; I guess working it out should be easier.” Stan laughed again at his own joke and then grinned broadly. “Refo, I'm happy. Totally happy. Who'd a ever thought, huh? Want me to walk Merle today?”
“Thanks, but I'm only working half a day. I'll take car of it.”
Only working half a day? When did I decide that? It just came out of my mouth. Like it was something I had planned. I ached to go home. Wait a sec, I told myself: one 'N' Jenifer Street is my home. I wanted to go to Frank's home. It didn't take much further analysis to make me realize how much I missed Frank. I didn't really care about location; I wanted Frank. I wanted to touch him. I ached for him, not a barn in the country.
“Two hours, Merle. I'll be back in two hours,” I promised. “Then we're going to see Frank.” My excitement was contagious; Merle wagged his tail and jumped in expectation.
Two hours turned into three, since Sarah Felsen had not completed her rerun of my data tables, but finally she agreed with my first set of data. I pressed send and my paper was on its electronic way to what I hoped would be my publisher. I was 99% sure I could not improve it if I spent another year trying. All I had to do was wait for the peer review process with its inevitable minor changes to conclude, and one way or another the paper was done
“You'll remember to say hi to Marv and Lex, right?” Sarah asked as I tried to leave.
I confirmed and left, picked up Merle, and headed southwest. Marv and Lex, I thought. What is she up to with them? Them … pigs … pig shit ... I need to do something about the pig … I was automatically calling it 'pig shit' and stopped in my mental tracks. Pig shit? Is that what I really think of the idea of pig photography? The photos are shit? Let's face it, the animals aren't photogenic in any kind of anthropomorphic way. “Charlotte's Web” and “Babe” aside, pigs just don't generate the kind of sympathetic reaction a cute puppy or kitten can elicit. So, yes, Refo, I told myself, trust your instincts. The pigs are out. Not gonna happen. Need a new idea. A totally new concept.
“Merle, what do you think of pigs?” I asked. It was hard to read his reaction because of the sunglasses. He just licked his chops and turned to looking out the window. “You'd just eat the pigs, huh? Well, that makes sense … if you're a dog.”
We got to the barn and Merle was out of the truck as fast as possible. He ran to the door and whined for entry. I couldn't open it fast enough for him. He charged across the room and jumped onto the sofa and into Frank's arms. If I had the sense of a dog, I'd have done the same thing.
“Frank! You're back! Butch said the mine job might last all week. Your truck is fine, by the way. No damage!” He was wrapped in a blanket; the television was on. He punched a button on the remote and turned it off. It was then I realized the barn was cold. He held the blanket open as an invitation.
“Join me before you freeze to death. I'm too tired to fuck with the furnace right now.”
“I gotta shower. I'll be two seconds. Take Merle's glasses off, ok?” I have learned to shower after being at the lab. No matter how careful I am – even if I'm nowhere near a bench – I get covered in acids, poisons, other exciting substances. The lab gunk eventually dissolves all my clothes, so it's gotta be doing something to people, too. Showers are essential. And freezing cold. The water heater must have gopne out along with the furnace. My howl on entering the cold water brought Merle and Frank running. After the world's fastest shower, I exited and toweled off.
“I don't mind if you're a little wet. Come on,” Frank urged. He wrapped me in his blanket and we walked back to the sofa in silence. I started to talk. “Shh,” Frank interrupted and kissed me. He didn't stop. He kissed me over and over. “Why am I wearing clothes?” he asked no one in particular and pulled them off. Naked under the blanket we embraced again to ward off the chill.
“Frank, I'm so sorry ...” I began. He put his finger to my lips.
“Don't tell me you're sorry, Reef. Just tell me you love me.”
He kissed me before I could tell him anything. I remembered what he had said. I did my best to tell him I loved him with my body. I wanted him. I gasped when his cock entered me. I needed him and ignored the pain. Inside my head my body screamed fuck me. I'm pretty sure Frank heard it, too. Gradually I melted under his touch as we coupled. I knew I was home. I knew I was loved.
When we relaxed, I again started to apologize, but he wouldn't let me. “One rule is all I want, Reef. Just one: if you ever stop loving me, say so and end it. Don't string me along.”
“Frank, my life comes in two parts. The part when I started loving you and some other part that I don't remember much about any more. You are the love of my life. I never knew what that meant before. Now I do. Whatever happens in the future isn't going to change anything. If we live to be a hundred, I will love you. If you leave me, I will love you. You're part of me. Always. Forever.”
We kissed. We caressed in the afternoon light. We gave each other pointless assurances of love, pointless because the physicality of our love seemed so much more real. His body invited my love and I answered his call. How fucking him seemed so passive for me, I will probably never understand, but the fact my cock was in him still felt to me like I was getting fucked. Even when he came first, it still felt like he was dominating me. “Fuck me, Frankie,” I begged when it was my turn to come in him.
The room was completely dark when we paused. “I should fix the furnace,” Frank said.
“Screw the furnace; stay with me. You can keep warm fuckin' me.”
He thought that was a good idea, but somehow in our confusion of sharing body parts I fucked him again. “Oh shit, you were supposed to be the one doing the ...”
“Doesn't matter,” he said. “I like it when you just take charge and dominate me.” He laughed at himself. “First time I ever said that. I always used to be the top. Now I'm getting fucked and loving it.”
“Stan fucked Euie four times one night and thought his dick was gonna fall off.”
“Refo, he's fifty years old. Four times? I'm wiped out after three.”
“If we get up and I make some dinner and you fix the furnace, I bet you could ...”
He crushed me in his arms and kissed me and laughed. “I missed you so much, babe. I hated being down that mine. That's never gonna happen again.”
A great chapter.
It has a sense of closure - are you done with this saga, or is there more to come?
It has a sense of closure - are you done with this saga, or is there more to come?
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Got some pigs to deal with. Merle needs to go for his follow-up. Sarah needs a home. Etc.
So we still have more coming, then. Good.