EasyRory
JUB Addict
Yeah, but another story is tugging at me. 
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In Praise of Hanes
- Thread starter EasyRory
- Start date
Hey, Neil used to handle 3 stories at the same time - and I KNOW you've got a bunch of offshoot stories around these here parts . . .
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Fifty-Four
“I'm prioritizing the things I'm not going to do,” I answered Frank's what-are-you-doing question.
“What?”
“Well, there are things I'm DEFINITELY not going to do and other things that I'm PROBABLY not going to do, and some other things I might actually do ... but probably not. This post-it, for example, says 'Re-engine the Mazda'. We know that's not going to happen. This one, 'Quit Work' … that's a toughie. I'm not sure where to put it.”
“Seriously? Quit work?”
“Let's face it. I'm no Elizabeth Blackburn.”
“Jeez, I hope not. It would be a real shock to find out I'm straight.” Frank followed that with a contorted hug, hard to do since I was sitting and he was standing.
“She's an Aussie import who won a Nobel.”
“But quit? Really?”
“Well … why not? I want to live with you. Commuting is a huge pain in the ass. Plus I like it here – not just you, but the place, too. I could get a job as a tech at a local hospital.”
“A tech? You're a PhD!”
“Phoney Doctor, you mean? I could probably teach at one of the local schools, but I don't have the patience for that. Plus good techs are paid more and I'm a good tech. And I'd have time for photography. That's making me some money.” I was slightly embarrassed by how much money photography was making me.
“But ...” Frank was at a loss. “I just never thought about … Really? You want to live with me?”
“I AM living with you. I just want to eliminate all the driving.” I got up to refill my coffee cup.
“Reef ...” Frank hugged me properly and kissed me with more drama than usual. With utter reliability, his cock swelled and pressed against me. I backed away. He looked cute with a bulge in his pants. I stared and he blushed.
“I wish I had my camera.” That made him blush more. “So I'm getting a Jeep. Nothing fancy; one of the cheap ones. Picking it up this morning in How's that sound?”
“You need a ride?”
“Butch is taking me. And then I'm taking Merle for his follow-up. And then I'll be back for dinner. I invited Mike and Butch, Jody and Charlie.”
“A party.”
“A plan, but don't say anything. We're having pulled pork, ok?”
“Sure. Sounds good.”
Getting the Jeep out of the dealer's hands and into mine took an hour longer than I had hoped. The salesman took forever trying to sell me a maintenance plan, a protection plan, a pay-radio plan, and floor mats. “What about a Jeep baseball cap?” he finally pitched. I declined and he gave me the cap anyway.
“Alright, Merle, how are you liking the new car?” I asked when we were finally on the way to Washington. His paws were slipping on the seat covers; I decided I needed to get him a fleece cover to dig into.
We arrived at Dr. Lampedusa's an hour late. I braced myself for trouble from the receptionist but got a much bigger surprise. “Jawan! What are you doing here?”
“I work here now. Dr. Lampedusa has been training me. It's better than the gym.”
“Puppy, where did you the disposable thermometers? … Oh! Hello again. How's Merle?” He turned to Jawan for the important answer.
“I put them in exam room two, in the cabinet where you said,” Jawan answered with a smile.
“Good puppy,” the doctor encouraged and left.
“It's a little joke,” Jawan explained. “He calls me that sometimes.”
“Jawan, he scratched behind your ear! Is that part of the joke, too?”
Jawan just raised his eyebrows and said, “Have you been using the salve on Merle?”
“Yes, he hates it.”
“And using the sunglasses?” Jawan's pen was poised over a form waiting for me to answer.
“Yes, he loves them. Jawan … are you two … um … you know ...”
“He gives a whole new meaning to doggie-style, Refo,” Jawan grinned.
“He treats you like his dog? Jawan, what does ...”
“If you mean he treats me with respect and affection, then yes. That 'Puppy' nickname doesn't really mean anything. And I'm using John now. Not 'Jawan' anymore. Ok, he'll see you now.” He escorted us to Exam Room One and left.
Doctor Lampedusa came in moments later and examined Merle. “No sign of irritation or infection,” he noted. He passed a bright pencil light in front of Merle's eyes and Merle tried to eat the light. “Good boy,” he said patting Merle on his shoulder. “Never pat the top of their heads,” he advised me. “It's a dominance gesture, demeaning for them.” He escorted us back to John's desk and watched as John booked another follow-up in a month.
“Good Puppy. You've got this appointment software all figured out.” He praised John, patted the top of his head, and then vanished into a back room.
“Here's Merle's reward for being a good patient,” John said, handing me a super-sized dog biscuit. “They're pretty good,” he added taking a bite of one himself. “Want one?”
“John,” I had to ask. “Are you coloring your hair?”
“A little,” he winked. “Lance calls it 'Irish setter red'. Isn't that cute? See you boys in a month.”
I put one of the rubber floor mats on the seat for Merle and he seemed to approve. “Ok, 'Jawan' and the Island accent were totally fake; but what about John and the animal act? What was that about?” I asked Merle as we drove west. Merle had no answer for me. I reached over and patted his shoulder. He glanced approvingly at me and turned his shaded eyes back to the road ahead.
We beat the rush hour and made it home in good time. Pulled pork isn't hard to make but it does require some time. I had left two tenderloins in a slow cooker before we left and inspected the results as soon as we got in the kitchen. The pork smelled good and looked good. Merle and I went out while the slow maceration process continued.
“I'm gonna quit, Merle. I'm gonna do it. I don't just want to take today off. I want all the days off. I never want to go back there. All those people. So close to hand. Nope. Give me some space. “I LOVE ROCKINGHAM COUNTY,” I yelled into the west wind.
I was shocked to hear, “ME TOO,” come back. I looked around toward the north and saw a figure waving. I never knew Frank had neighbors. I waved back and then returned to the house to make dinner.
The six of us ate pulled pork barbeque on buns with cole slaw, potato chips, and beer. Not gourmet, but hearty. I photographed the food and the diners.
“Refo, sit down and eat. This is good food,” Frank said.
“Best I've ever had,” Mike lied and got a happy smile from Butch.
I captured the shot and put the camera down. Everybody ate well and I had to admit the meal turned out better than I had expected. After dinner Frank and I cleaned up while Butch and Mike watched TV and Charlie and Jody went for a walk. I watched them walk out toward the hulk of the Mazda. Jody grabbed Charlie, said something, and got shoved away by a laughing Charlie. Then they walked out of my view.
“You know, they're getting to be a real couple,” I said to Frank.
“I guess. I think Charlie's good for Jody. He's never been with anybody so long before. And he doesn't talk about it. I used to have to listen to every detail about every guy he ever did anything with. He never says much about Charlie at all.”
“And look at those two.” I indicated Mike and Butch with a nod while I washed the last of the pans. “They've got problems, but most of the time, you'd never know.” Mike and Butch were half watching TV and half talking quietly Mike looked earnest and Butch looked serious.
“Mike's never been so happy in his life. He's relaxed. He's making plans. Well, sort of. I mean lately he talks about 'next week he's gonna do this or that' and he never used to look ahead more than a minute and a half.”
“I've never been so happy either, Frank.” I watched Charlie and Jody walk toward the road holding hands. “Because of you. You know that, right?” I watched him smile and squint. “Tearing up a little?” I laughed.
He looked at me and nodded. “I love you, Reef.”
We put the leftovers away and I got a few cans of beer out. “The cook deserves a bonus,” I said. “Beer anybody?” I called to Mike and Butch.
“I'm good,” came back from both of them.
Charlie and Jody walked in back from their walk and stood briefly looking at what Mike and Butch were watching. Jody seemed antsy. He shook off my offer of a beer and spoke nervously. “Charlie says to shut up but I'm saying it.”
That got everybody's attention.
“Jody ...” Charlie cautioned.
“Out by the Mazda I asked Charlie to marry me and he said no.” Once begun, there was no stopping Jody. “In the orchard, I half-way jacked him off but he said no again.” His hand sought Charlie's. “Out by the road, we saw two boys drive by. They waved and Charlie said, 'They look like us. Happy.' And I said, 'They're in love, too. Marry me.' And he said ...” He turned to Charlie with a huge grin.
“I said 'FUCK NO!' of course.”
“He said yes,” Jody said quietly, almost reverently. He took Charlie in his arms and kissed him softly. “We're getting married. I don't know how or when or where, but we're doing it. I LOVE THIS MAN.” Jody picked up his fiance and spun him around.
After a round of congratulations, the happy couple declined another beer and left trying to settle themselves down to the enormity of what they had promised to do.
“Awesome,” Mike commented. “Just awesome.” He stood uncomfortably shifting from foot to foot.
“Oh, no!” I said in a joking tone. “Not another announcement!”
“What? No!” Mike replied. “No announcement.” He glanced at Butch and laughed. “It's just that … well, Butch and me are kind of together, if you hadn't noticed.”
“We noticed,” I tried to sound friendly and encouraging. Mike looked so appealing and helpless and tongue-tied.
“We'll we ARE together, but we haven't always … uh .. we haven't done everything together … if you know what I mean.”
Frank gently squeezed my shoulder to keep me quiet.
“I mean there's stuff … sex stuff … that we haven't ...” He looked at Butch for support and found it. “We haven't done everything that guys can do,” Mike plowed ahead. “But we're going to. I'm going to let him … I mean I want him to … I want Butch to do anything he wants. ANYTHING AT ALL,” Mike emphasized, in case we hadn't understood him. “This is so hard to say,” Mike stammered. “I want Butch to love me.”
I waited for Butch to say “I do love you,” but he didn't. He just smiled and rubbed Mike's back a little. Mike gave him a very quick kiss, barely a peck. “Ok?” he said to Frank, seeking approval for the kiss and the speech.
Frank looking directly back at his cousin. “I love you, Mike. If Butch doesn't, he's crazy.”
An uncomfortable silence was broken by Butch. “Great dinner, Refo. I'd like another beer, but that might make you think I'm crazy.”
“So, then … I guess you're leaving,” I said. “Going home to ...”
“Watch TV,” Mike said.
After they left, what else was there to do? “Frank, let's go in the bedroom and watch TV.”
“Refo, there's no TV in the bedroom.”
“There's no TV in Mike's whole house that I know of.”
“There's one in his storage shed, but it's broken.”
“Frank ...” I said impatiently. I was already at the bedroom door. “Get in here.”
“I'm prioritizing the things I'm not going to do,” I answered Frank's what-are-you-doing question.
“What?”
“Well, there are things I'm DEFINITELY not going to do and other things that I'm PROBABLY not going to do, and some other things I might actually do ... but probably not. This post-it, for example, says 'Re-engine the Mazda'. We know that's not going to happen. This one, 'Quit Work' … that's a toughie. I'm not sure where to put it.”
“Seriously? Quit work?”
“Let's face it. I'm no Elizabeth Blackburn.”
“Jeez, I hope not. It would be a real shock to find out I'm straight.” Frank followed that with a contorted hug, hard to do since I was sitting and he was standing.
“She's an Aussie import who won a Nobel.”
“But quit? Really?”
“Well … why not? I want to live with you. Commuting is a huge pain in the ass. Plus I like it here – not just you, but the place, too. I could get a job as a tech at a local hospital.”
“A tech? You're a PhD!”
“Phoney Doctor, you mean? I could probably teach at one of the local schools, but I don't have the patience for that. Plus good techs are paid more and I'm a good tech. And I'd have time for photography. That's making me some money.” I was slightly embarrassed by how much money photography was making me.
“But ...” Frank was at a loss. “I just never thought about … Really? You want to live with me?”
“I AM living with you. I just want to eliminate all the driving.” I got up to refill my coffee cup.
“Reef ...” Frank hugged me properly and kissed me with more drama than usual. With utter reliability, his cock swelled and pressed against me. I backed away. He looked cute with a bulge in his pants. I stared and he blushed.
“I wish I had my camera.” That made him blush more. “So I'm getting a Jeep. Nothing fancy; one of the cheap ones. Picking it up this morning in How's that sound?”
“You need a ride?”
“Butch is taking me. And then I'm taking Merle for his follow-up. And then I'll be back for dinner. I invited Mike and Butch, Jody and Charlie.”
“A party.”
“A plan, but don't say anything. We're having pulled pork, ok?”
“Sure. Sounds good.”
Getting the Jeep out of the dealer's hands and into mine took an hour longer than I had hoped. The salesman took forever trying to sell me a maintenance plan, a protection plan, a pay-radio plan, and floor mats. “What about a Jeep baseball cap?” he finally pitched. I declined and he gave me the cap anyway.
“Alright, Merle, how are you liking the new car?” I asked when we were finally on the way to Washington. His paws were slipping on the seat covers; I decided I needed to get him a fleece cover to dig into.
We arrived at Dr. Lampedusa's an hour late. I braced myself for trouble from the receptionist but got a much bigger surprise. “Jawan! What are you doing here?”
“I work here now. Dr. Lampedusa has been training me. It's better than the gym.”
“Puppy, where did you the disposable thermometers? … Oh! Hello again. How's Merle?” He turned to Jawan for the important answer.
“I put them in exam room two, in the cabinet where you said,” Jawan answered with a smile.
“Good puppy,” the doctor encouraged and left.
“It's a little joke,” Jawan explained. “He calls me that sometimes.”
“Jawan, he scratched behind your ear! Is that part of the joke, too?”
Jawan just raised his eyebrows and said, “Have you been using the salve on Merle?”
“Yes, he hates it.”
“And using the sunglasses?” Jawan's pen was poised over a form waiting for me to answer.
“Yes, he loves them. Jawan … are you two … um … you know ...”
“He gives a whole new meaning to doggie-style, Refo,” Jawan grinned.
“He treats you like his dog? Jawan, what does ...”
“If you mean he treats me with respect and affection, then yes. That 'Puppy' nickname doesn't really mean anything. And I'm using John now. Not 'Jawan' anymore. Ok, he'll see you now.” He escorted us to Exam Room One and left.
Doctor Lampedusa came in moments later and examined Merle. “No sign of irritation or infection,” he noted. He passed a bright pencil light in front of Merle's eyes and Merle tried to eat the light. “Good boy,” he said patting Merle on his shoulder. “Never pat the top of their heads,” he advised me. “It's a dominance gesture, demeaning for them.” He escorted us back to John's desk and watched as John booked another follow-up in a month.
“Good Puppy. You've got this appointment software all figured out.” He praised John, patted the top of his head, and then vanished into a back room.
“Here's Merle's reward for being a good patient,” John said, handing me a super-sized dog biscuit. “They're pretty good,” he added taking a bite of one himself. “Want one?”
“John,” I had to ask. “Are you coloring your hair?”
“A little,” he winked. “Lance calls it 'Irish setter red'. Isn't that cute? See you boys in a month.”
I put one of the rubber floor mats on the seat for Merle and he seemed to approve. “Ok, 'Jawan' and the Island accent were totally fake; but what about John and the animal act? What was that about?” I asked Merle as we drove west. Merle had no answer for me. I reached over and patted his shoulder. He glanced approvingly at me and turned his shaded eyes back to the road ahead.
We beat the rush hour and made it home in good time. Pulled pork isn't hard to make but it does require some time. I had left two tenderloins in a slow cooker before we left and inspected the results as soon as we got in the kitchen. The pork smelled good and looked good. Merle and I went out while the slow maceration process continued.
“I'm gonna quit, Merle. I'm gonna do it. I don't just want to take today off. I want all the days off. I never want to go back there. All those people. So close to hand. Nope. Give me some space. “I LOVE ROCKINGHAM COUNTY,” I yelled into the west wind.
I was shocked to hear, “ME TOO,” come back. I looked around toward the north and saw a figure waving. I never knew Frank had neighbors. I waved back and then returned to the house to make dinner.
The six of us ate pulled pork barbeque on buns with cole slaw, potato chips, and beer. Not gourmet, but hearty. I photographed the food and the diners.
“Refo, sit down and eat. This is good food,” Frank said.
“Best I've ever had,” Mike lied and got a happy smile from Butch.
I captured the shot and put the camera down. Everybody ate well and I had to admit the meal turned out better than I had expected. After dinner Frank and I cleaned up while Butch and Mike watched TV and Charlie and Jody went for a walk. I watched them walk out toward the hulk of the Mazda. Jody grabbed Charlie, said something, and got shoved away by a laughing Charlie. Then they walked out of my view.
“You know, they're getting to be a real couple,” I said to Frank.
“I guess. I think Charlie's good for Jody. He's never been with anybody so long before. And he doesn't talk about it. I used to have to listen to every detail about every guy he ever did anything with. He never says much about Charlie at all.”
“And look at those two.” I indicated Mike and Butch with a nod while I washed the last of the pans. “They've got problems, but most of the time, you'd never know.” Mike and Butch were half watching TV and half talking quietly Mike looked earnest and Butch looked serious.
“Mike's never been so happy in his life. He's relaxed. He's making plans. Well, sort of. I mean lately he talks about 'next week he's gonna do this or that' and he never used to look ahead more than a minute and a half.”
“I've never been so happy either, Frank.” I watched Charlie and Jody walk toward the road holding hands. “Because of you. You know that, right?” I watched him smile and squint. “Tearing up a little?” I laughed.
He looked at me and nodded. “I love you, Reef.”
We put the leftovers away and I got a few cans of beer out. “The cook deserves a bonus,” I said. “Beer anybody?” I called to Mike and Butch.
“I'm good,” came back from both of them.
Charlie and Jody walked in back from their walk and stood briefly looking at what Mike and Butch were watching. Jody seemed antsy. He shook off my offer of a beer and spoke nervously. “Charlie says to shut up but I'm saying it.”
That got everybody's attention.
“Jody ...” Charlie cautioned.
“Out by the Mazda I asked Charlie to marry me and he said no.” Once begun, there was no stopping Jody. “In the orchard, I half-way jacked him off but he said no again.” His hand sought Charlie's. “Out by the road, we saw two boys drive by. They waved and Charlie said, 'They look like us. Happy.' And I said, 'They're in love, too. Marry me.' And he said ...” He turned to Charlie with a huge grin.
“I said 'FUCK NO!' of course.”
“He said yes,” Jody said quietly, almost reverently. He took Charlie in his arms and kissed him softly. “We're getting married. I don't know how or when or where, but we're doing it. I LOVE THIS MAN.” Jody picked up his fiance and spun him around.
After a round of congratulations, the happy couple declined another beer and left trying to settle themselves down to the enormity of what they had promised to do.
“Awesome,” Mike commented. “Just awesome.” He stood uncomfortably shifting from foot to foot.
“Oh, no!” I said in a joking tone. “Not another announcement!”
“What? No!” Mike replied. “No announcement.” He glanced at Butch and laughed. “It's just that … well, Butch and me are kind of together, if you hadn't noticed.”
“We noticed,” I tried to sound friendly and encouraging. Mike looked so appealing and helpless and tongue-tied.
“We'll we ARE together, but we haven't always … uh .. we haven't done everything together … if you know what I mean.”
Frank gently squeezed my shoulder to keep me quiet.
“I mean there's stuff … sex stuff … that we haven't ...” He looked at Butch for support and found it. “We haven't done everything that guys can do,” Mike plowed ahead. “But we're going to. I'm going to let him … I mean I want him to … I want Butch to do anything he wants. ANYTHING AT ALL,” Mike emphasized, in case we hadn't understood him. “This is so hard to say,” Mike stammered. “I want Butch to love me.”
I waited for Butch to say “I do love you,” but he didn't. He just smiled and rubbed Mike's back a little. Mike gave him a very quick kiss, barely a peck. “Ok?” he said to Frank, seeking approval for the kiss and the speech.
Frank looking directly back at his cousin. “I love you, Mike. If Butch doesn't, he's crazy.”
An uncomfortable silence was broken by Butch. “Great dinner, Refo. I'd like another beer, but that might make you think I'm crazy.”
“So, then … I guess you're leaving,” I said. “Going home to ...”
“Watch TV,” Mike said.
After they left, what else was there to do? “Frank, let's go in the bedroom and watch TV.”
“Refo, there's no TV in the bedroom.”
“There's no TV in Mike's whole house that I know of.”
“There's one in his storage shed, but it's broken.”
“Frank ...” I said impatiently. I was already at the bedroom door. “Get in here.”
The long and winding road.
What is in Mike's mind - he loves Butch, but appears to have some issues with commitment.
And Jawan aka John - and the Vet - don't pet the dog on the head - it's a sign of dominance and the dogs don't like it - but it's OK to do to "Puppy".
What is in Mike's mind - he loves Butch, but appears to have some issues with commitment.
And Jawan aka John - and the Vet - don't pet the dog on the head - it's a sign of dominance and the dogs don't like it - but it's OK to do to "Puppy".
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Fifty-Five
I went through the shots I had taken of my pulled pork dinner and selected four that I thought might look good. I had already selected a typeface and a layout. It was just a matter of snapping a few things into place ... Damn. Another interruption.
“Butch! Come in. I'm just working on …” He looked like he would explode. “What? Spill it!”
“Refo ...”
“Still called Refo. What's up?”
“I'm in love with Mike.”
“Butchie, everyone in Virginia knows that.”
“No, no, really, this time. It was so romantic. We got home last night and Mike said … he said, 'Barlow' – that's what he calls me when he's serious ...”
“Why Barlow?”
“That's my name. Shut up now, let me finish … “Barlow', he said, 'Fuck me or I'm throwing your ass out.' Wasn't that romantic? To make a long story short, I'm still living there.” Butch paused giving me a huge grin. “He said no more porn studio also. O' course, that was later. A lot later.” Butch laughed, unable to contain himself. “In the morning, actually.”
“So the porn studio and its no-fuckin' rules are done? Finito? Over with?”
Butch nodded. “O' course, that means were poor again. But I think I can fix that. Well, not fix it, exactly, but make us less poor.” He looked at me expectantly and then continued. “I'm gonna raise chickens.”
“You hate chickens.”
“Not really. It's the chicken shit I hate. The chickens themselves are just stupid; there's nothing there to hate. The shit and the smell, of course. And the fuckin' feathers. And the noise.”
“You hate chickens. And what's this 'Barlow' business.”
“I do hate chickens,” Butch admitted but his spirit remained upbeat. “Barlow was Randy Krol's idea. Gee, thanks, Randy. At the time they were still running a few cattle and the brand was a big K with a bar under it. Bar Low, get it? But by the time I was two I had bristly blond hair, so I got called Butch. And I hate chickens way less that I gotta be with Mike. Plus I know how to handle chickens.”
I like being Butch's confidant, maybe because I never had a brother to be close to. I had two older sisters, but they were enough older that we never had much in common until lately. I was flattered that he trusted me, of course, but it was fun seeing him work his way through the same tangles I had encountered. I tried to make my advice helpful, not advice at all, just suggested alternatives. Gentle nudges. He probably wouldn't have tolerated much more, but it gave me a feeling of being a diplomat and even a little parental, which I kind of liked also. And he's so fuckin' cute, you want to hug him.
“Can I tell your mo … uh, can I tell Linda Krol about this plan?” Neither mother nor grandmother seemed to fit Linda.
“Yeah, I guess, but wait 'til I get a few birds in the roost.” Butch shifted gears abruptly. “He's such a sweet fuck, Refo.” He looked out the window, recalling to himself details of the night before.
“Maybe you can make a little money doing some real modeling. Take a look at this picture, Butch.” I pushed my laptop in his direction. He had to shade it from the light coming in the window. I watched his lips move as he read the caption.
“Wow. You make Mike look so handsome.”
“He is handsome.”
“Yeah, but … I guess I mean hot.”
“He is hot.”
“But I thought maybe I was the only one who saw it. In this picture he looks like … a movie star or something. And I look so dopey.”
“I thought you looked like two friends having fun and eating pulled pork.” They looked like two lovers, but I didn't say it.
“But there's something more going on. It's hard to look away.”
“Of course, that's the point of a good photo, something more to draw you in. Are you looking at the pork bun or at Mike?”
“Bullshit, Refo. Of course I'm looking at Mike. I'm looking at him like he's my ...”
“But that's because you're involved. Somebody off the street would just say 'two guys enjoying a meal'. At least that's what I think. And the text, 'Of course it's pork. James River Pork!' That shifts the focus entirely.”
Entirely was pushing it. There was a definite connection in the shot between Mike and Butch, but it didn't have to be sexual. It could have been simple but intense friendship.
“What else have you got?”
I showed him a picture of Charlie and Jody and one of Frank by himself, with a little barbeque sauce on his lip. He flipped among the three shots and then went one farther. I hadn't planned on showing him that fourth one.
“Oh my God! You can see Frank's dick!”
“Just a little. It's the shadowing ...”
“Refo, he's got a boner plain as day!”
“You weren't supposed to see that one,” I said and flipped back to the first picture. “I'm hoping I can sell these as an ad theme to a pig farmers' association to promote pork and their regional association.”
Butch flipped back and forth among the three pictures. “So now I'm thinking these are all pretty sexy shots, Refo. There's a lot more sex than eating going on.”
“After I include recipes and more text, the focus will be on the pork. Anyway, assuming I sell the idea, is it ok if I use you and Mike?”
“Can't speak for Mike, but I don't care. Sure, go ahead.”
“You want to come along on my sales pitch?” Butch would be good company on the drive, plus I didn't want to be alone with Ox again, ever.
If I thought Butch was going to be company for the trip, I was mistaken. He slept almost the whole way to Pigs in Blankets Farm. Nothing like a night of fucking to give you sweet dreams. “Wake up, sleepy head. We're here.”
We encountered Ox almost immediately. He ignored me. I was delighted. “Butch Fuckin' Krol! Is that you?”
“Hey, Ox.” Butch was wary but polite
“Look at you!” He sniffed the air. “And I can't smell chicken shit, neither.” He looked Butch up and down and waggled his eyebrows in appreciation.
“Is Marv here?” I interrupted.
“Yeah, sure. In the house.” Ox was trying to stare a hole in Butch's jeans.
Butch was as happy to get way from Ox as I was. “Creepy fucker,” he commented. “Always was.”
Marv's reaction to my proposal was, “Lexy, come look at this! Will porn sell pork?
“It's not porn,” I protested. “I want to get the interest of cooks … creative types. They tend to be women and gays. I think both of those groups are attracted to … er, to something like what I have photographed. And they shop in grocery stores.”
“I like the 'James River Pork' idea,” Marv said as she looked from the photograph to Butch and back again. After a silence she said, “He's just as hot in person. Is the other guy, too?”
“I should probably let you know they have both have made a few porn videos. But that career is over. I was thinking that even if that becomes a news item, it would still be good for the pork branding. It would get you a lot of attention without a lot of expense. And any attention, when you're new and struggling is good, right?”
“Hmmm,” Marv said, not at all convinced. I think I like the other pictures better. They're not so blatant.”
“I don't know,” Lex speculated. “This guys dick is pretty apparent.” She put her finger Frank's jeans that I thought I had darkened enough to obscure his cock. “And something … I don't know what, but SOMETHING is going on with these two. Jody and who did you say?”
“Charlie. But I think you're overworking it a little. Would off-the-street people have the same reaction?
“I don't know about this. You two want some lunch? It's just hot dogs,” Marv invited.
We accepted and I took some shots of us eating. Marv was minorly annoyed, but Lex didn't mind at all. In fact she was a little coy in front of the camera. One shot in particular caught my eye. I plugged it into my standard framework for the ads.
“What about this one?” I asked when I was done. Lex giggled when she saw it and Marv was appalled.
“That hot dog! The way you took it … It looks like she's sucking a dick!”
“But obviously she's not. It's a hot dog.”
“I always liked sucking dicks,” Lex confided to Butch. “It was fucking them I couldn't handle.”
“I KNOW!” Butch replied excitedly. “I feel the same way about pussy!”
“You have such control,” Lex added.
“Exactly, you're in complete charge and you can work it any way you want, make it just as hot as you want. I love eating pussy.” Butch smiled at some internal reminiscence.
Marv was appalled at the conversation but what the hell, I figured. Win or lose, the pork adventure was turning out to be fun. Plus, it DID look exactly like Lex was sucking a dick, and the little smirk on her face said she was enjoying it.
“Well, I think we should give it a try,” Lex said and immediately I got the impression that her view was crucial. Despite Marv's generally assertive I'm-the-boss attitude, in this case, Lex's opinion was going to rule. “Imagine me, sucking a cock,” Lex chuckled.
“I can see it.” Butch said this, looking right into Lex's eyes, with a surprisingly intimate and winning smile. Was he acting or was he serious? I couldn't tell.
“Ooooow! He's such a sweetie,” Lex laughed and squirmed in her chair. “We've GOT to do it, Marv.”
“Hmmm … wellllllll … I'll show your presentation to some of the other farmers and we'll see what their reaction is.” Marv was stunningly undelighted with the idea.
Lex saw us to the car while Marv went to talk to Ox. That talk didn't go well. I heard Marv tell him to go fuck some pigs. To Butch and me, however, Lex was charming. As we were about to leave Butch whispered something in her ear. She giggled and gave him a little swat on the butt.
“What did you say to her?” I asked as we drove out the entry.
“I told her I'd eat her pussy any time.” He promptly went to sleep and slept the whole way home. I dropped him off and hurried home to Frank. I was later than usual.
Frank was warming up the pulled pork leftovers. “What a day!” he said. “I think we got a new job in Warrenton.” Warrenton was a town of 'gentlemen farmers' who would pay handsomely for good work; he was very pleased at the prospect. “Mike was no help, though. He was like a zombie. Slept in the truck the whole lunch break. Hope nothing's wrong with him.”
“I think he and Butch are doing some work around home. He was probably just tired.”
“What do you know?” Frank grinned. He pretty much has me figured out.
“Oh, nothing really. Butch is going to start raising chickens.”
“He hates chickens.”
“But he loves Mike.”
I went through the shots I had taken of my pulled pork dinner and selected four that I thought might look good. I had already selected a typeface and a layout. It was just a matter of snapping a few things into place ... Damn. Another interruption.
“Butch! Come in. I'm just working on …” He looked like he would explode. “What? Spill it!”
“Refo ...”
“Still called Refo. What's up?”
“I'm in love with Mike.”
“Butchie, everyone in Virginia knows that.”
“No, no, really, this time. It was so romantic. We got home last night and Mike said … he said, 'Barlow' – that's what he calls me when he's serious ...”
“Why Barlow?”
“That's my name. Shut up now, let me finish … “Barlow', he said, 'Fuck me or I'm throwing your ass out.' Wasn't that romantic? To make a long story short, I'm still living there.” Butch paused giving me a huge grin. “He said no more porn studio also. O' course, that was later. A lot later.” Butch laughed, unable to contain himself. “In the morning, actually.”
“So the porn studio and its no-fuckin' rules are done? Finito? Over with?”
Butch nodded. “O' course, that means were poor again. But I think I can fix that. Well, not fix it, exactly, but make us less poor.” He looked at me expectantly and then continued. “I'm gonna raise chickens.”
“You hate chickens.”
“Not really. It's the chicken shit I hate. The chickens themselves are just stupid; there's nothing there to hate. The shit and the smell, of course. And the fuckin' feathers. And the noise.”
“You hate chickens. And what's this 'Barlow' business.”
“I do hate chickens,” Butch admitted but his spirit remained upbeat. “Barlow was Randy Krol's idea. Gee, thanks, Randy. At the time they were still running a few cattle and the brand was a big K with a bar under it. Bar Low, get it? But by the time I was two I had bristly blond hair, so I got called Butch. And I hate chickens way less that I gotta be with Mike. Plus I know how to handle chickens.”
I like being Butch's confidant, maybe because I never had a brother to be close to. I had two older sisters, but they were enough older that we never had much in common until lately. I was flattered that he trusted me, of course, but it was fun seeing him work his way through the same tangles I had encountered. I tried to make my advice helpful, not advice at all, just suggested alternatives. Gentle nudges. He probably wouldn't have tolerated much more, but it gave me a feeling of being a diplomat and even a little parental, which I kind of liked also. And he's so fuckin' cute, you want to hug him.
“Can I tell your mo … uh, can I tell Linda Krol about this plan?” Neither mother nor grandmother seemed to fit Linda.
“Yeah, I guess, but wait 'til I get a few birds in the roost.” Butch shifted gears abruptly. “He's such a sweet fuck, Refo.” He looked out the window, recalling to himself details of the night before.
“Maybe you can make a little money doing some real modeling. Take a look at this picture, Butch.” I pushed my laptop in his direction. He had to shade it from the light coming in the window. I watched his lips move as he read the caption.
“Wow. You make Mike look so handsome.”
“He is handsome.”
“Yeah, but … I guess I mean hot.”
“He is hot.”
“But I thought maybe I was the only one who saw it. In this picture he looks like … a movie star or something. And I look so dopey.”
“I thought you looked like two friends having fun and eating pulled pork.” They looked like two lovers, but I didn't say it.
“But there's something more going on. It's hard to look away.”
“Of course, that's the point of a good photo, something more to draw you in. Are you looking at the pork bun or at Mike?”
“Bullshit, Refo. Of course I'm looking at Mike. I'm looking at him like he's my ...”
“But that's because you're involved. Somebody off the street would just say 'two guys enjoying a meal'. At least that's what I think. And the text, 'Of course it's pork. James River Pork!' That shifts the focus entirely.”
Entirely was pushing it. There was a definite connection in the shot between Mike and Butch, but it didn't have to be sexual. It could have been simple but intense friendship.
“What else have you got?”
I showed him a picture of Charlie and Jody and one of Frank by himself, with a little barbeque sauce on his lip. He flipped among the three shots and then went one farther. I hadn't planned on showing him that fourth one.
“Oh my God! You can see Frank's dick!”
“Just a little. It's the shadowing ...”
“Refo, he's got a boner plain as day!”
“You weren't supposed to see that one,” I said and flipped back to the first picture. “I'm hoping I can sell these as an ad theme to a pig farmers' association to promote pork and their regional association.”
Butch flipped back and forth among the three pictures. “So now I'm thinking these are all pretty sexy shots, Refo. There's a lot more sex than eating going on.”
“After I include recipes and more text, the focus will be on the pork. Anyway, assuming I sell the idea, is it ok if I use you and Mike?”
“Can't speak for Mike, but I don't care. Sure, go ahead.”
“You want to come along on my sales pitch?” Butch would be good company on the drive, plus I didn't want to be alone with Ox again, ever.
If I thought Butch was going to be company for the trip, I was mistaken. He slept almost the whole way to Pigs in Blankets Farm. Nothing like a night of fucking to give you sweet dreams. “Wake up, sleepy head. We're here.”
We encountered Ox almost immediately. He ignored me. I was delighted. “Butch Fuckin' Krol! Is that you?”
“Hey, Ox.” Butch was wary but polite
“Look at you!” He sniffed the air. “And I can't smell chicken shit, neither.” He looked Butch up and down and waggled his eyebrows in appreciation.
“Is Marv here?” I interrupted.
“Yeah, sure. In the house.” Ox was trying to stare a hole in Butch's jeans.
Butch was as happy to get way from Ox as I was. “Creepy fucker,” he commented. “Always was.”
Marv's reaction to my proposal was, “Lexy, come look at this! Will porn sell pork?
“It's not porn,” I protested. “I want to get the interest of cooks … creative types. They tend to be women and gays. I think both of those groups are attracted to … er, to something like what I have photographed. And they shop in grocery stores.”
“I like the 'James River Pork' idea,” Marv said as she looked from the photograph to Butch and back again. After a silence she said, “He's just as hot in person. Is the other guy, too?”
“I should probably let you know they have both have made a few porn videos. But that career is over. I was thinking that even if that becomes a news item, it would still be good for the pork branding. It would get you a lot of attention without a lot of expense. And any attention, when you're new and struggling is good, right?”
“Hmmm,” Marv said, not at all convinced. I think I like the other pictures better. They're not so blatant.”
“I don't know,” Lex speculated. “This guys dick is pretty apparent.” She put her finger Frank's jeans that I thought I had darkened enough to obscure his cock. “And something … I don't know what, but SOMETHING is going on with these two. Jody and who did you say?”
“Charlie. But I think you're overworking it a little. Would off-the-street people have the same reaction?
“I don't know about this. You two want some lunch? It's just hot dogs,” Marv invited.
We accepted and I took some shots of us eating. Marv was minorly annoyed, but Lex didn't mind at all. In fact she was a little coy in front of the camera. One shot in particular caught my eye. I plugged it into my standard framework for the ads.
“What about this one?” I asked when I was done. Lex giggled when she saw it and Marv was appalled.
“That hot dog! The way you took it … It looks like she's sucking a dick!”
“But obviously she's not. It's a hot dog.”
“I always liked sucking dicks,” Lex confided to Butch. “It was fucking them I couldn't handle.”
“I KNOW!” Butch replied excitedly. “I feel the same way about pussy!”
“You have such control,” Lex added.
“Exactly, you're in complete charge and you can work it any way you want, make it just as hot as you want. I love eating pussy.” Butch smiled at some internal reminiscence.
Marv was appalled at the conversation but what the hell, I figured. Win or lose, the pork adventure was turning out to be fun. Plus, it DID look exactly like Lex was sucking a dick, and the little smirk on her face said she was enjoying it.
“Well, I think we should give it a try,” Lex said and immediately I got the impression that her view was crucial. Despite Marv's generally assertive I'm-the-boss attitude, in this case, Lex's opinion was going to rule. “Imagine me, sucking a cock,” Lex chuckled.
“I can see it.” Butch said this, looking right into Lex's eyes, with a surprisingly intimate and winning smile. Was he acting or was he serious? I couldn't tell.
“Ooooow! He's such a sweetie,” Lex laughed and squirmed in her chair. “We've GOT to do it, Marv.”
“Hmmm … wellllllll … I'll show your presentation to some of the other farmers and we'll see what their reaction is.” Marv was stunningly undelighted with the idea.
Lex saw us to the car while Marv went to talk to Ox. That talk didn't go well. I heard Marv tell him to go fuck some pigs. To Butch and me, however, Lex was charming. As we were about to leave Butch whispered something in her ear. She giggled and gave him a little swat on the butt.
“What did you say to her?” I asked as we drove out the entry.
“I told her I'd eat her pussy any time.” He promptly went to sleep and slept the whole way home. I dropped him off and hurried home to Frank. I was later than usual.
Frank was warming up the pulled pork leftovers. “What a day!” he said. “I think we got a new job in Warrenton.” Warrenton was a town of 'gentlemen farmers' who would pay handsomely for good work; he was very pleased at the prospect. “Mike was no help, though. He was like a zombie. Slept in the truck the whole lunch break. Hope nothing's wrong with him.”
“I think he and Butch are doing some work around home. He was probably just tired.”
“What do you know?” Frank grinned. He pretty much has me figured out.
“Oh, nothing really. Butch is going to start raising chickens.”
“He hates chickens.”
“But he loves Mike.”
Rory, I agree with Rocabar - a great chapter, indeed. The things we do for love . . .
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Fifty-Six
Frank sighed as I relaxed on top of him. He held me and wrapped his legs around me once more. “It occurs to me I'm getting fucked a lot lately.” I could hear the humor in his voice, but it made me wonder.
“Too much? Am I being selfish?”
“No. You can fuck me any time you want.” He sounded like he meant it.
“It's just … You're such a good … And you seem to like it, Frank.”
“I do.”
“Ok, if you want to fuck me, I'm ready. Right now.” That wasn't actually true, but I wanted it to be and I'd let him. I'd never say no.
“Reef, you just made me come twice. Do you really think I'm ready for more?” He pulled me close again and kissed me. “I'm not eighteen any more, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah ... my antique lover is getting old. All of thirty-three, is it?”
“Thirty-four in a couple of weeks.”
“Mmm-hmm. What do you want for your birthday?”
“Another night like this one.” I felt his lips on my neck.
“No, seriously, Frank. What would you like?” That question ended with his tongue in my mouth and we went back to kissing until sleep ended it.
In the morning I woke first and pulled the covers off of us. I gently traced the subtle curves of his back with my hand. Either my touch or the chill of the room woke him and he rolled onto his side showing me his morning erection. I tried to give him a blowjob, but he pushed me away with a “gotta piss” excuse. I followed him into the bathroom and stood alongside him as we both relieved ourselves. A little kinky, I guess, something we'd never done before, but it was intimate and we followed it with a shower.
It was while he was washing my back that I felt his renewed erection. Things got a little uncomfortable and I banged my elbows on the tile repeatedly while he fucked me, but the closeness felt completely right. I wanted him in me. I stuck my butt out, trying to be open to him and felt the length of his cock massage me. After getting used to him I pushed back, welcoming his thrusts. He reached around for my cock and I came the instant he touched me. It took him a bit longer. His orgasm made me feel complete. We rewashed the dirty parts and went back to bed for a sweet half hour.
“Ok, gotta get up,” Frank moaned. “I'm pricing out the stuff I'll need in Warrenton with Jody at nine. If I don't get moving now, he'll know I just had sex and want details.”
“Do you tell him?”
“Not any more, not about us; but he still asks, the pervert ...” Frank chuckled, reflecting his long friendship with Jody. “And, of course, he won't tell me a thing about Charlie.”
We made out a little in the kitchen waiting for the water to boil, not wanting our morning together to end quite yet. Eventually, however, he had to leave. I asked him again what he wanted for his birthday and he put me off, saying, “Get me something we'll both like.”
Which, through some brain misfire, made me think of Sarah Felsen. I called Marv. “I forgot to tell you yesterday that Sarah Felsen said to say hello to you and Lex.”
“Really. What's she doing these days? Or should I ask 'who'? Who being plural, of course.” Marv didn't seem delighted at the shout out from her old … old what? Friend? Lover? One- or two-night stand?
“She's busy … work and all. She's a good scientist.”
“It's that 'and all' part that's always the problem with Sarah,” Marv said. “How many people make up the 'all' you're telling me about?”
“It's hard to say, Marv.”
“So that means at least three, huh?” Marv laughed heartily at the idea. “Well, tell her the rug's been rolled up.”
“What's that mean?” I was baffled.
“She'll know.” Marv paused and began again, “So I took your photos to a meeting last night of a few local farmers and their wives. Turns out you were right. Only one of them took notice of the sexual content and to tell you the truth, I think he's a closet case. Their wives, though, were very interested. Asked some questions about that solo guy. You know, the one whose dick shows?”
“It doesn't show.”
“It does, but never mind. The wives wanted to know if he was a local. He could probably have a very successful career hustlin' horny old maids around here.”
“Thanks, I'll tell him.”
“Forget it. Just tell Sarah the rug's been rolled up.”
An hour and a half later I told Sarah, “The rug's been rolled up.”
Sarah laughed. “Did she really say that? The bitch ...”
“What are you talking about?”
“I can't tell you. It's too embarrassing.”
“You? Embarrassed? Come on, Sarah ...”
“Oh, alright.” Sarah didn't need much wheedling. “Whenever we would … you know … have an intimate moment? … I would start sneezing. Every time! So weird! I told her I was allergic to her public hair.”
“So rolling up the rug means ...”
“She shaves down there. So tell her for me that dry cleaning it might have been just as good.”
“Which means …?”
“Never mind. I can't give away all our secrets.”
“So I'm thinking of quitting.” I might as well try the idea on someone, I thought.
“WHAT?”
“I'm not getting anywhere really, not doing anything important or cutting-edge, and what's my future here? Dr. Bloch barely knows my name after ten years.”
With that Carter came in. “Sarah, I couldn't find my gray shoes this morning. Do you know anything about that?”
“I think Woodie borrowed them.”
“It's getting to be like a frat house, you know?” Carter was plainly disgusted with his living arrangement and left.
Sarah sighed. “I'm getting too old to be the chief juggler in a circus act.”
“You know how to end that,” I told her. She just shrugged at my suggestion and picked up her phone. Too slowly, I thought; I didn't like her new whistling tea kettle ring tone.
“Woodie, for God's sake, quit wearing his clothes all the time,” she sighed again, more heavily this time. “Of course he has better taste than you. He also has more money than you!” She rolled her eyes in my direction. “No, it's not your night. Ask again and tomorrow won't be your night either!” She clicked off and stared at the phone to see if her x-ray vision could melt it. “You know, Lucien, who always seemed like the fruit cake, is the sanest one of the bunch.”
“But, au fond, ma cherie, his Franco-Swiss ass is boring.”
“German-Swiss,” she laughed. “You're right, but he's sooooo good looking.” He was. I had to give her that. “Refo, you can't leave. You're the only person I can have fun with without sex getting involved.”
“It almost got involved.” I was thinking of our brief, almost engagement.
“And I'll always love you for that. My friend in need ...”
Lucien burst in on our moment of whistful remembrance. “Ach, mein Gott! Have you got a radio or something?” He was good looking, even in panic mode.
It took Sarah a while to tune in the all news station. “More about the Chevy Chase veterinarian, after this announcement,” the announcer said. We waited through a couple of ads for chewing gum and fast food.
“Didn't you take Merle to this nut?” Lucien asked. We fidgeted until the announcer came back on.
“As previously reported, a naked man was seen running along Wisconsin Avenue north of the River Road intersection. He disappeared into the side streets near the Dancing Crab restaurant, pursued by a shouting man. This was recorded by a bystander.” A crackly recording came on. “ 'Bad Puppy! Stop him! Stop him! Bad Puppy! Come back here!' The rest of the recording wasn't clear, but in a second recording the young naked man was yelling, too. 'He's trying to neuter me! He's trying to neuter me!' the young man screamed. His pursuer collapsed and was taken to Georgetown Hospital where he was identified as Dr. Lance Lampedusa, a vet with offices on River Road. The whereabouts of the naked man are presently unknown.”
The co-anchor of the newscast came on next. “What was he saying? He's trying to noodle me? That's a new one.” She laughed a very skeptical laugh.
“I think he said 'cooter me'. Something to do with cooties, Sheila?”
“Cooties aren't real, Brian,” she replied and they shared the forced laugh that people who don't like each other make.
“In sports news ...” he continued and Sarah shut the radio off. She and Lucien both looked at me expecting answers.
“That WAS where I took Merle. And I think I know the naked man.”
“This would never happen in Zurich.” Lucien sounded rueful. “Nothing funny ever happens in Zurich.”
“Why are you wearing a tie?” Sarah asked him.
“I had to. Woodie wanted to borrow it. Do you know what he did with the last one?”
“I don't want to know.” Sarah put her hands to her ears and shook her head, saying “La-la-la-la ...”
Lucien pulled her hands away from her head. “He used it as a cock ring. It was Hermès. I say WAS. I had to throw it away.”
I expected the phone was Lucien's but he made no move. It was my phone ringing.
“Refo, it's Stan. There's a guy named John here. Should I let him in your place? And can he borrow some clothes, he wants to know.”
It was wrong, totally wrong; but I laughed.
“Not really funny,” Stan continued. “He's pretty shaken up over something and he's dressed like Adam in the Garden. A walking privet hedge. Should I call the police?” Sotto voce, Stan whispered, “He's cute, though, Refo. You have the hottest friends I've ever seen!”
“Put him on ...” I waited. “Jawan? Is that you?”
“Help, Refo.”
I got there as fast as I could. Jawan had shed the shrubbery and was huddled in a chair wrapped in a blanket provided by Stan. He was sipping a brown beverage also provided by Stan. He was a little tipsy.
“Oh, you poor pu …. uh, you poor dude!” I commiserated.
“He had a scalpel, Refo.” Jawan's words were slightly slurred. He took a healthy swallow of Stan's bourbon. “He was gonna do it! Slice 'em right off!”
“Why? What set him off?”
“I had an accident on the rug.”
“An accident?”
“It wasn't my fault! You should have seen what else he was making me do!” Jawan shivered and snuggled deeper into the cocoon-like blanket. He offered no further explanation. “He was gonna slice 'em ...” He made a crunching sound, shuddered again, and fell silent.
Stan was entranced. “Another drink, John?”
“My worsht day at the gym was never as bad as thish.” Jawan knocked back the last of his glass and held it out for more. His hand shook while Stan poured. “Can I borrow some clothes, Reef?”
“Of course. Should we call the police?” Jawan shrugged; he had no idea. Then he shook his head no. “Come on home with me then.”
He slept as we drove to Rockingham County. I starting to think I'm boring. I seem to put people to sleep lately.
Frank sighed as I relaxed on top of him. He held me and wrapped his legs around me once more. “It occurs to me I'm getting fucked a lot lately.” I could hear the humor in his voice, but it made me wonder.
“Too much? Am I being selfish?”
“No. You can fuck me any time you want.” He sounded like he meant it.
“It's just … You're such a good … And you seem to like it, Frank.”
“I do.”
“Ok, if you want to fuck me, I'm ready. Right now.” That wasn't actually true, but I wanted it to be and I'd let him. I'd never say no.
“Reef, you just made me come twice. Do you really think I'm ready for more?” He pulled me close again and kissed me. “I'm not eighteen any more, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah ... my antique lover is getting old. All of thirty-three, is it?”
“Thirty-four in a couple of weeks.”
“Mmm-hmm. What do you want for your birthday?”
“Another night like this one.” I felt his lips on my neck.
“No, seriously, Frank. What would you like?” That question ended with his tongue in my mouth and we went back to kissing until sleep ended it.
In the morning I woke first and pulled the covers off of us. I gently traced the subtle curves of his back with my hand. Either my touch or the chill of the room woke him and he rolled onto his side showing me his morning erection. I tried to give him a blowjob, but he pushed me away with a “gotta piss” excuse. I followed him into the bathroom and stood alongside him as we both relieved ourselves. A little kinky, I guess, something we'd never done before, but it was intimate and we followed it with a shower.
It was while he was washing my back that I felt his renewed erection. Things got a little uncomfortable and I banged my elbows on the tile repeatedly while he fucked me, but the closeness felt completely right. I wanted him in me. I stuck my butt out, trying to be open to him and felt the length of his cock massage me. After getting used to him I pushed back, welcoming his thrusts. He reached around for my cock and I came the instant he touched me. It took him a bit longer. His orgasm made me feel complete. We rewashed the dirty parts and went back to bed for a sweet half hour.
“Ok, gotta get up,” Frank moaned. “I'm pricing out the stuff I'll need in Warrenton with Jody at nine. If I don't get moving now, he'll know I just had sex and want details.”
“Do you tell him?”
“Not any more, not about us; but he still asks, the pervert ...” Frank chuckled, reflecting his long friendship with Jody. “And, of course, he won't tell me a thing about Charlie.”
We made out a little in the kitchen waiting for the water to boil, not wanting our morning together to end quite yet. Eventually, however, he had to leave. I asked him again what he wanted for his birthday and he put me off, saying, “Get me something we'll both like.”
Which, through some brain misfire, made me think of Sarah Felsen. I called Marv. “I forgot to tell you yesterday that Sarah Felsen said to say hello to you and Lex.”
“Really. What's she doing these days? Or should I ask 'who'? Who being plural, of course.” Marv didn't seem delighted at the shout out from her old … old what? Friend? Lover? One- or two-night stand?
“She's busy … work and all. She's a good scientist.”
“It's that 'and all' part that's always the problem with Sarah,” Marv said. “How many people make up the 'all' you're telling me about?”
“It's hard to say, Marv.”
“So that means at least three, huh?” Marv laughed heartily at the idea. “Well, tell her the rug's been rolled up.”
“What's that mean?” I was baffled.
“She'll know.” Marv paused and began again, “So I took your photos to a meeting last night of a few local farmers and their wives. Turns out you were right. Only one of them took notice of the sexual content and to tell you the truth, I think he's a closet case. Their wives, though, were very interested. Asked some questions about that solo guy. You know, the one whose dick shows?”
“It doesn't show.”
“It does, but never mind. The wives wanted to know if he was a local. He could probably have a very successful career hustlin' horny old maids around here.”
“Thanks, I'll tell him.”
“Forget it. Just tell Sarah the rug's been rolled up.”
An hour and a half later I told Sarah, “The rug's been rolled up.”
Sarah laughed. “Did she really say that? The bitch ...”
“What are you talking about?”
“I can't tell you. It's too embarrassing.”
“You? Embarrassed? Come on, Sarah ...”
“Oh, alright.” Sarah didn't need much wheedling. “Whenever we would … you know … have an intimate moment? … I would start sneezing. Every time! So weird! I told her I was allergic to her public hair.”
“So rolling up the rug means ...”
“She shaves down there. So tell her for me that dry cleaning it might have been just as good.”
“Which means …?”
“Never mind. I can't give away all our secrets.”
“So I'm thinking of quitting.” I might as well try the idea on someone, I thought.
“WHAT?”
“I'm not getting anywhere really, not doing anything important or cutting-edge, and what's my future here? Dr. Bloch barely knows my name after ten years.”
With that Carter came in. “Sarah, I couldn't find my gray shoes this morning. Do you know anything about that?”
“I think Woodie borrowed them.”
“It's getting to be like a frat house, you know?” Carter was plainly disgusted with his living arrangement and left.
Sarah sighed. “I'm getting too old to be the chief juggler in a circus act.”
“You know how to end that,” I told her. She just shrugged at my suggestion and picked up her phone. Too slowly, I thought; I didn't like her new whistling tea kettle ring tone.
“Woodie, for God's sake, quit wearing his clothes all the time,” she sighed again, more heavily this time. “Of course he has better taste than you. He also has more money than you!” She rolled her eyes in my direction. “No, it's not your night. Ask again and tomorrow won't be your night either!” She clicked off and stared at the phone to see if her x-ray vision could melt it. “You know, Lucien, who always seemed like the fruit cake, is the sanest one of the bunch.”
“But, au fond, ma cherie, his Franco-Swiss ass is boring.”
“German-Swiss,” she laughed. “You're right, but he's sooooo good looking.” He was. I had to give her that. “Refo, you can't leave. You're the only person I can have fun with without sex getting involved.”
“It almost got involved.” I was thinking of our brief, almost engagement.
“And I'll always love you for that. My friend in need ...”
Lucien burst in on our moment of whistful remembrance. “Ach, mein Gott! Have you got a radio or something?” He was good looking, even in panic mode.
It took Sarah a while to tune in the all news station. “More about the Chevy Chase veterinarian, after this announcement,” the announcer said. We waited through a couple of ads for chewing gum and fast food.
“Didn't you take Merle to this nut?” Lucien asked. We fidgeted until the announcer came back on.
“As previously reported, a naked man was seen running along Wisconsin Avenue north of the River Road intersection. He disappeared into the side streets near the Dancing Crab restaurant, pursued by a shouting man. This was recorded by a bystander.” A crackly recording came on. “ 'Bad Puppy! Stop him! Stop him! Bad Puppy! Come back here!' The rest of the recording wasn't clear, but in a second recording the young naked man was yelling, too. 'He's trying to neuter me! He's trying to neuter me!' the young man screamed. His pursuer collapsed and was taken to Georgetown Hospital where he was identified as Dr. Lance Lampedusa, a vet with offices on River Road. The whereabouts of the naked man are presently unknown.”
The co-anchor of the newscast came on next. “What was he saying? He's trying to noodle me? That's a new one.” She laughed a very skeptical laugh.
“I think he said 'cooter me'. Something to do with cooties, Sheila?”
“Cooties aren't real, Brian,” she replied and they shared the forced laugh that people who don't like each other make.
“In sports news ...” he continued and Sarah shut the radio off. She and Lucien both looked at me expecting answers.
“That WAS where I took Merle. And I think I know the naked man.”
“This would never happen in Zurich.” Lucien sounded rueful. “Nothing funny ever happens in Zurich.”
“Why are you wearing a tie?” Sarah asked him.
“I had to. Woodie wanted to borrow it. Do you know what he did with the last one?”
“I don't want to know.” Sarah put her hands to her ears and shook her head, saying “La-la-la-la ...”
Lucien pulled her hands away from her head. “He used it as a cock ring. It was Hermès. I say WAS. I had to throw it away.”
I expected the phone was Lucien's but he made no move. It was my phone ringing.
“Refo, it's Stan. There's a guy named John here. Should I let him in your place? And can he borrow some clothes, he wants to know.”
It was wrong, totally wrong; but I laughed.
“Not really funny,” Stan continued. “He's pretty shaken up over something and he's dressed like Adam in the Garden. A walking privet hedge. Should I call the police?” Sotto voce, Stan whispered, “He's cute, though, Refo. You have the hottest friends I've ever seen!”
“Put him on ...” I waited. “Jawan? Is that you?”
“Help, Refo.”
I got there as fast as I could. Jawan had shed the shrubbery and was huddled in a chair wrapped in a blanket provided by Stan. He was sipping a brown beverage also provided by Stan. He was a little tipsy.
“Oh, you poor pu …. uh, you poor dude!” I commiserated.
“He had a scalpel, Refo.” Jawan's words were slightly slurred. He took a healthy swallow of Stan's bourbon. “He was gonna do it! Slice 'em right off!”
“Why? What set him off?”
“I had an accident on the rug.”
“An accident?”
“It wasn't my fault! You should have seen what else he was making me do!” Jawan shivered and snuggled deeper into the cocoon-like blanket. He offered no further explanation. “He was gonna slice 'em ...” He made a crunching sound, shuddered again, and fell silent.
Stan was entranced. “Another drink, John?”
“My worsht day at the gym was never as bad as thish.” Jawan knocked back the last of his glass and held it out for more. His hand shook while Stan poured. “Can I borrow some clothes, Reef?”
“Of course. Should we call the police?” Jawan shrugged; he had no idea. Then he shook his head no. “Come on home with me then.”
He slept as we drove to Rockingham County. I starting to think I'm boring. I seem to put people to sleep lately.
How could he be boring. Jawan was exhausted from the adrenalin rush burn out AND the bourbon "sleep aid".
You DO have a wonderful way with words, Rory. From the beginning scenes with Refo and Frank in bed up to the radio and then the phone call - incredible!
You DO have a wonderful way with words, Rory. From the beginning scenes with Refo and Frank in bed up to the radio and then the phone call - incredible!
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Fifty-Seven
I was planning to drive into Washington to a farewell party but I was seriously distracted by a remarkable vision of beauty in motion. Jawan was exercising using bundles of Frank's lumber as free weights. My mouth went dry watching. I tore myself away and returned with my camera. He heard the slight whirring of the shutter and acknowledged it with a smile in my direction. As good as his smile was, his smile wasn't what I wanted to shoot. I maneuvered for a better shot.
I was mildly envious that Jawan looked so much better in my underwear than I did. The light gray color of the clingy boxer briefs set off both his skin tone and his flexing musculature. I want to say that the drape of the fabric over his ass was mouth-watering, but that doesn't explain the dryness in mouth watching him. And there is something so asexually innocent about the Hanes label on the waistband, an innocence that contradicts the blatant sexiness of what it hides.
“What are you looking at, Refo? You've got Frank in your bed every night.” Jawan smiled again.
“Can't I just admire the view?” I took a sip of his water and handed the bottle to him. “You want to go into town with me? We could stop and get your stuff from Lampedusa's place.” Two weeks had passed since Jawan moved in with Frank and me; but he had not made any attempt to recover his belongings. A new bank card had arrived the day before, so at least he would not have access to some money, but I didn't know what his financial state was exactly.
“Uh, I'll pass on that. I don't want to see him and I don't have that much stuff to at his place. It's not like I can't buy a couple of pairs of jeans and stuff.” The all-purpose noun 'stuff' can mean almost anything and this context didn't amplify its meaning at all.
Ok, you want to come anyway? We're just going for lunch at a Tregara's in Bethesda.” Tregara's was a big restaurant that specialized in medium to large groups and charged higher prices than were justified by the food. The shortcomings of their kitchen were easily obscured by a couple of their gigantic, worth-every-penny drinks from their bar.
“I'm good. I can work out and Merle's good company.” Merle's tail wagged lazily in response to the compliment. Jawan's semi-reclusiveness was starting to concern me; it took a lot of convincing to get him to go even as far as Harrisonburg, which was about as threatening as a pretty day in June. So it bothered me to leave him alone.
I wasn't quite finished at work yet, there were a few weeks to go; but my decision to leave was public and the lab never needed much of an excuse to go out to lunch. This wasn't my official farewell luncheon, however, just a minor one. I arrived and Tregara's was its predictable self.
“Oh I can't believe it.” Sarah's voiced was filled with regret, real or faked, I wasn't sure. She sipped a white wine. “You're actually leaving and I had just gotten good at manipulating you. Breaking in the new guy will be such a pain.” She meant that as a supreme compliment.
“What if the new guy is a girl?”
“You know Bloch can't judge women with any detachment.”
“Exactly. Hence, Cheryl. Remember her? And Vornada? A tempest in a D cup.”
“That ...” replied a clench-jawed Sarah, at a loss for words.
“Looked good in a sweater, though. Are you having another?” Sarah nodded and I signaled the wait-person for two more white wines. From the front the wait-person appeared female; from the rear, with an amazingly firm and tight ass, I wasn't sure. “Boy or girl?” I asked Sarah.
“Girl, obviously, dummy ... I'm going to miss you,” she sighed again. “Your combination of depravity and naiveté is unmatched on our generation.”
“So how come the front of her pants looks … er, so masculine.”
“Well, she's a little chubby and also seems to have some kind of pelvic prolapse condition ...”
“Hung like a horse, you mean.”
Sarah just laughed and chose not to pursue the question. We finished our wine and I drove her back to work. We passed the Bethesda Library on the way. The sign in front caught my eye.
“Is that a plea or a promise?”
“What?” Sarah asked with mild interest.
“The sign. More Library Hours. Are they hoping for them or delivering them.”
“What do you care? When were you last at a library?”
She had me there. “Yeah, but more would be better … for someone, right?”
“For the librarians.” I could see her eyes rolling without looking.
“Maybe I could be a librarian when this biochemist thing is over.”
She laughed heartily for much longer than I thought was necessary. “Refo, you dickhead! Are you sure you want to leave?” We parked under the medical wing and got out of the Jeep. Impulsively Sarah gave me a wet and alcohol-flavored kiss. Her breasts pushed into me and I reacted faster than you would expect in a gay guy. I don't think she noticed; she broke away without comment. At the elevator she found her prey.
“Woodpecker, my little chickadee! How's it hangin'?”
Woodie blushed and I wondered if Sarah had tossed off a few more white wines than I had counted. She and Woodie entered the car and she pushed me away with two words. “Private car.”
I watched the floor numbers as the car headed upward. It got to the eighth floor without a stop, definitely not time enough to fool around much. When I got to the office she was alone and looking professionally prim.
“Where's Woodie?” I asked.
“On a mission,” she said mysteriously.
With nothing to do and some personal time to burn off, I took the rest of the day and headed to Stan's. It occurred to me that I no longer thought of it as my place. My place was at Frank's. This place was Stan's.
I made two trips from my old bedroom to the Jeep with clothes, figuring some would fit Jawan and then I knocked on Stan's door. “Do you have my mail, Stan? There was nothing in the box.”
“Your mail slot was overflowing. Come in, I saved it in a box.”
“You mind if I sort it here? It's ninety-nine percent junk and can go right to the recycling bin.” I sorted through ads for health clubs, ads for dating services, ads for real estate companies, ads for ski vacatrions, and ads for take-out food.
“Gonna miss you, Refo. You changed my life … sort of.”
“Are you sure you're gay, Stan?”
“No, I'm not. I mean, I'm sure that I'm not gay. But ...” I let him puzzle out what he was going to say. “A little gay sex isn't bad, and it's a lot better than no sex at all, which is what I was getting as a straight guy before I met Euie.”
“Euie's kind of ...”
“Refo, I'm fifty-four and look it. And not in a good way, either – if there even IS a good way to look fifty-four. I know Euie is “kind of ...”, but so what? We have fun together and the sex is … not bad at all.”
“I like the way you look, Stan.” It was a simple compliment and it was true. He looked honest and trusting and now and then I could see hints of what he must have looked like thirty years ago. I liked the way he looked.
He smiled. “You want a drink. I'm having one. Euie's staying in Delaware tonight.”
“No thanks.” I found the letter I was looking for. “I have a hundred miles to get home. Here's my rent check. I'll be giving up the place at the end of next month, if you want to start showing it.”
He looked straight at me. “I wish you were staying.” I could tell he was sincere.
I teared up a little but didn't say anything. Since the farewell party, everything I was used to suddenly seemed slightly changed. Stan looked a little different. My part of the house looked smaller and drabber than I thought. The street seemed more crowded than ever. Only the Jeep looked shiny, but that was itself perverse - Jeeps aren't supposed to look shiny. I tucked two utility bills and the letter from Krol Farms in my pocket and left Stan with a handshake. I dumped the box of mail in the blue bin and got in the Jeep.
I opened the envelope from Krol Farms. The check from Linda was for a long number that started with a four. I stuffed it back in my pocket not trusting the number. I must have read it wrong. There was one more job to do and then I could head west.
I had planned to stop by Dr. Lampedusa's office and ask for Jawan's stuff. When I got there I read a notice on the door. “Premises sealed by order of the MPDC while an investigation is pending.” The Metropolitan Police notice was sufficiently daunting for me. I left posthaste.
“That's ok, Refo. I didn't have much to lose.” Jawan seemed resigned to his circumstances.
“Just everything you own,” I protested.
“I didn't own much,” he replied.
Jawan, what's wrong? Why are you taking this so calmly? Why are you taking 'everything' so calmly? You used to be so upbeat and positive. A real salesman.”
He just shook his head. “You know, I deserved what almost happened.”
“Bull shit! What do you mean? Who says so?”
“I was … a Bad Puppy. That's as good a way to put it as any.”
I was planning to drive into Washington to a farewell party but I was seriously distracted by a remarkable vision of beauty in motion. Jawan was exercising using bundles of Frank's lumber as free weights. My mouth went dry watching. I tore myself away and returned with my camera. He heard the slight whirring of the shutter and acknowledged it with a smile in my direction. As good as his smile was, his smile wasn't what I wanted to shoot. I maneuvered for a better shot.
I was mildly envious that Jawan looked so much better in my underwear than I did. The light gray color of the clingy boxer briefs set off both his skin tone and his flexing musculature. I want to say that the drape of the fabric over his ass was mouth-watering, but that doesn't explain the dryness in mouth watching him. And there is something so asexually innocent about the Hanes label on the waistband, an innocence that contradicts the blatant sexiness of what it hides.
“What are you looking at, Refo? You've got Frank in your bed every night.” Jawan smiled again.
“Can't I just admire the view?” I took a sip of his water and handed the bottle to him. “You want to go into town with me? We could stop and get your stuff from Lampedusa's place.” Two weeks had passed since Jawan moved in with Frank and me; but he had not made any attempt to recover his belongings. A new bank card had arrived the day before, so at least he would not have access to some money, but I didn't know what his financial state was exactly.
“Uh, I'll pass on that. I don't want to see him and I don't have that much stuff to at his place. It's not like I can't buy a couple of pairs of jeans and stuff.” The all-purpose noun 'stuff' can mean almost anything and this context didn't amplify its meaning at all.
Ok, you want to come anyway? We're just going for lunch at a Tregara's in Bethesda.” Tregara's was a big restaurant that specialized in medium to large groups and charged higher prices than were justified by the food. The shortcomings of their kitchen were easily obscured by a couple of their gigantic, worth-every-penny drinks from their bar.
“I'm good. I can work out and Merle's good company.” Merle's tail wagged lazily in response to the compliment. Jawan's semi-reclusiveness was starting to concern me; it took a lot of convincing to get him to go even as far as Harrisonburg, which was about as threatening as a pretty day in June. So it bothered me to leave him alone.
I wasn't quite finished at work yet, there were a few weeks to go; but my decision to leave was public and the lab never needed much of an excuse to go out to lunch. This wasn't my official farewell luncheon, however, just a minor one. I arrived and Tregara's was its predictable self.
“Oh I can't believe it.” Sarah's voiced was filled with regret, real or faked, I wasn't sure. She sipped a white wine. “You're actually leaving and I had just gotten good at manipulating you. Breaking in the new guy will be such a pain.” She meant that as a supreme compliment.
“What if the new guy is a girl?”
“You know Bloch can't judge women with any detachment.”
“Exactly. Hence, Cheryl. Remember her? And Vornada? A tempest in a D cup.”
“That ...” replied a clench-jawed Sarah, at a loss for words.
“Looked good in a sweater, though. Are you having another?” Sarah nodded and I signaled the wait-person for two more white wines. From the front the wait-person appeared female; from the rear, with an amazingly firm and tight ass, I wasn't sure. “Boy or girl?” I asked Sarah.
“Girl, obviously, dummy ... I'm going to miss you,” she sighed again. “Your combination of depravity and naiveté is unmatched on our generation.”
“So how come the front of her pants looks … er, so masculine.”
“Well, she's a little chubby and also seems to have some kind of pelvic prolapse condition ...”
“Hung like a horse, you mean.”
Sarah just laughed and chose not to pursue the question. We finished our wine and I drove her back to work. We passed the Bethesda Library on the way. The sign in front caught my eye.
“Is that a plea or a promise?”
“What?” Sarah asked with mild interest.
“The sign. More Library Hours. Are they hoping for them or delivering them.”
“What do you care? When were you last at a library?”
She had me there. “Yeah, but more would be better … for someone, right?”
“For the librarians.” I could see her eyes rolling without looking.
“Maybe I could be a librarian when this biochemist thing is over.”
She laughed heartily for much longer than I thought was necessary. “Refo, you dickhead! Are you sure you want to leave?” We parked under the medical wing and got out of the Jeep. Impulsively Sarah gave me a wet and alcohol-flavored kiss. Her breasts pushed into me and I reacted faster than you would expect in a gay guy. I don't think she noticed; she broke away without comment. At the elevator she found her prey.
“Woodpecker, my little chickadee! How's it hangin'?”
Woodie blushed and I wondered if Sarah had tossed off a few more white wines than I had counted. She and Woodie entered the car and she pushed me away with two words. “Private car.”
I watched the floor numbers as the car headed upward. It got to the eighth floor without a stop, definitely not time enough to fool around much. When I got to the office she was alone and looking professionally prim.
“Where's Woodie?” I asked.
“On a mission,” she said mysteriously.
With nothing to do and some personal time to burn off, I took the rest of the day and headed to Stan's. It occurred to me that I no longer thought of it as my place. My place was at Frank's. This place was Stan's.
I made two trips from my old bedroom to the Jeep with clothes, figuring some would fit Jawan and then I knocked on Stan's door. “Do you have my mail, Stan? There was nothing in the box.”
“Your mail slot was overflowing. Come in, I saved it in a box.”
“You mind if I sort it here? It's ninety-nine percent junk and can go right to the recycling bin.” I sorted through ads for health clubs, ads for dating services, ads for real estate companies, ads for ski vacatrions, and ads for take-out food.
“Gonna miss you, Refo. You changed my life … sort of.”
“Are you sure you're gay, Stan?”
“No, I'm not. I mean, I'm sure that I'm not gay. But ...” I let him puzzle out what he was going to say. “A little gay sex isn't bad, and it's a lot better than no sex at all, which is what I was getting as a straight guy before I met Euie.”
“Euie's kind of ...”
“Refo, I'm fifty-four and look it. And not in a good way, either – if there even IS a good way to look fifty-four. I know Euie is “kind of ...”, but so what? We have fun together and the sex is … not bad at all.”
“I like the way you look, Stan.” It was a simple compliment and it was true. He looked honest and trusting and now and then I could see hints of what he must have looked like thirty years ago. I liked the way he looked.
He smiled. “You want a drink. I'm having one. Euie's staying in Delaware tonight.”
“No thanks.” I found the letter I was looking for. “I have a hundred miles to get home. Here's my rent check. I'll be giving up the place at the end of next month, if you want to start showing it.”
He looked straight at me. “I wish you were staying.” I could tell he was sincere.
I teared up a little but didn't say anything. Since the farewell party, everything I was used to suddenly seemed slightly changed. Stan looked a little different. My part of the house looked smaller and drabber than I thought. The street seemed more crowded than ever. Only the Jeep looked shiny, but that was itself perverse - Jeeps aren't supposed to look shiny. I tucked two utility bills and the letter from Krol Farms in my pocket and left Stan with a handshake. I dumped the box of mail in the blue bin and got in the Jeep.
I opened the envelope from Krol Farms. The check from Linda was for a long number that started with a four. I stuffed it back in my pocket not trusting the number. I must have read it wrong. There was one more job to do and then I could head west.
I had planned to stop by Dr. Lampedusa's office and ask for Jawan's stuff. When I got there I read a notice on the door. “Premises sealed by order of the MPDC while an investigation is pending.” The Metropolitan Police notice was sufficiently daunting for me. I left posthaste.
“That's ok, Refo. I didn't have much to lose.” Jawan seemed resigned to his circumstances.
“Just everything you own,” I protested.
“I didn't own much,” he replied.
Jawan, what's wrong? Why are you taking this so calmly? Why are you taking 'everything' so calmly? You used to be so upbeat and positive. A real salesman.”
He just shook his head. “You know, I deserved what almost happened.”
“Bull shit! What do you mean? Who says so?”
“I was … a Bad Puppy. That's as good a way to put it as any.”
What did Jawan do - try and fuck the doctor - or did he go for a patient's owner?
You do keep the story interesting, Rory.
You do keep the story interesting, Rory.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Fifty-Eight
“It's not worth talking about, Refo.” Jawan was a clam on the subject of himself.
“But it is worth it, if something is bothering you.”
“Really - nothing's bothering me.”
I had repeatedly tried to get Jawan to come out of his shell. I didn't know him really, but he had never seemed so withdrawn when he worked at my gym. He was always cheerful; the customers liked him; and, as far as I knew, he didn't fuck all of them. I decided to take another tack.
“I'm going to a pig farm today and I could really use some help. You want to come?”
“I don't know anything about pigs.”
“Neither do I, but I need help photographing them. Butch is going to come. I could really use both of you. And you don't have any other plans, do you?”
“No, but ...”
“Good. It's settled. Wear old clothes. We'll probably get dirty.”
“They're your clothes.”
“That means they're all old.” I laughed and gave him what I hope was a dazzling smile. “Let's load the Jeep.” We were almost finished loading my blow-ups when Butch arrived on foot.
“You walked five miles?”
“It's not that far if you cut across a couple fields. Do you know your neighbors?” I shook my head no and he got more specific “The ones whose property abuts yours at the back? I think they're gay.” Jawan looked up and began following the conversation. “I say that because I saw them kissing. Sort of a goodbye kiss before one of them left in a truck.”
“Frank tells me these parts are gayer than I think. He's probably right.”
“Yeah, well, it was a sweet kiss. You should get to know them,” Butch concluded.
“Yes, sir. I'll get right on that.” We piled in the Jeep and headed east.
“Jawan? You think I'm slope-shouldered? If I wanted to build up my deltoids, how would I do that?”
Butch asked just the right question. Jawan happily jabbered for the rest of the trip covering anterior, medial, and posterior muscle groups, what to do without equipment, what to do with minimal equipment, and what to do at a gym. “OK?” he wrapped up. “Why do you want to do it, anyway?”
“I have a fat ass. Bigger shoulders would balance it off.” Butch said as we pulled into the farm.
“You don't have a fat ass,” I told him, inspecting the item under discussion.
“I wouldn't say it's fat exactly, but bigger delts are almost always a positive,” Jawan added as he looked him up and down. “Of course, then you'll probably want to work on your lats.”
“Why is everybody checking out this boy's ass?” Marv asked as she joined us inspecting Butch's backside.
“ 'Cause it's near perfect?” Lex suggested. She winked at Butch and made the tiniest possible gesture of blowing him a kiss.”And who's this cutie?” she asked, eying Jawan.
“I'm John Washington,” Jawan said. “You can call me Jawan, if you want. These guys do.”
“What would you like to be called?” Marv asked but didn't wait for his answer. “Ox! Monster! Come here!” She turned her attention back to John Washington.
“Jawan's ok.”
Ox joined us and nodded hello. His friend Monster was more gregarious and did fist bumps all around. “I'm Monster. I guess you can tell why.” Monster was practically bursting out of his clothes. Even under a work jacket it was plain he was a huge. “Butch, good to see you again.”
“He's my lover,” Ox commented.
“I'm his ROOMMATE!” Monster adamantly corrected.
“Let's not start that again,” Marv interrupted. “We've got work to do.”
The farm provided the chairs and easels for my presentation. Butch, Jawan, and Monster did the dog work of setting things up while Marv, Lex, and I rehearsed the pitch. The knotty part was addressing the sexuality of the photography. I felt that including banner text and a complete recipe for making the pictured food toned down the physicality of the models. Marv was much more skeptical. Lex provided the answer.
“Just talk about the pitch, Refo. We're selling pork, not porkin'. I think you've toned it down just right. If somebody brings it up, act surprised as if the questioner is odd for even thinking it.”
I shrugged and went to check on the set up. The group would be about twenty, so the seating arrangement wasn't overly formal and the easels were spread in a semi-circle so that one or the other was close to every chair.
I put the blow-up of the print ads in the easels. Charlie and Jody drew no comments. Butch and Mike got a whoop from Lex. Frank and myself got a “Nice” from Marv. The one of Marv and Lex got a lengthy silence, until Lex spoke up. “You look good, Marv. Refo captured what I saw in you ten years ago.” The rest of us tried to look busy while the two women hugged. Meanwhile I put up the solo shot of Jawan in my underwear lifting a bundle of lumber.
“Fuck me!” Monster sighed in quiet admiration.
“Fuck you is right, bitch,” Ox snarled back.
“Stop it!” Marv demanded and ended the brewing argument. She shook her head in amazement. “Ox, you could start a fight in an empty room.”
“It's too bad you couldn't have all your models here, Refo,” Lex said changing the subject. “They could sell a lot of pork.” She thought her words over and then made another suggestion. “Say, would you two mind helping me with an idea I have?” She led Butch and Jawan into the house, leaving the rest of us in the barn.
“So it'll be a brief introduction by me, then, Refo, you explain your idea of the campaign, and then, Ox, we move to the refreshments. I was hoping you and Monster could serve the beer.”
“Be glad to,” Monster volunteered.
“Serve the beer?” Ox objected. “I'm in charge of the animals. I'm not fuckin' barmaid.”
“If Lex can cook and serve the barbecue, you can serve the beer. OK?” Marv was unquestionably the boss and Ox conceded her position. Again Marv shook her head in my direction and explained her tolerance, “He really is good with the pigs.”
“Ox, I was hoping to get some more shots of the pigs. I'm working on another idea for them. Could you help me with that part?”
“Sure, Refo,” he said conspiratorially, making me regret my request. “You coming, Monster?”
I was glad of the company and was relieved when Monster agreed. I'm not leaving you alone with that … Jawan person around.”
“So my idea is we maximize the hoggy-ness … if that's a word … We make a hog look like a hog. They're never gonna be cute and cuddly ...”
“They are. Cute and cuddly. You just don't understand 'em.”
“Maybe so, but I want a big hog and I want to make it look like the head pig of all time – without any hint of humor. You got an animal who can play that part?”
“I do,” Ox said and went to get him.
Monster took advantage of Ox's absence. “Um, Refo, why do I think I know Jawan? I don't know your part of the state at all, but there's something familiar about him.”
“He's not from Rockingham – he's from Washington. He's just staying with us for a while.”
“Washington ...” Monster puzzled to himself. “Washington … Oh! Wait! Oh, my God! The veterinarian! He's that John Washington???”
I didn't know what to say. I knew Jawan's difficulty had been on the Washington news and mentioned very briefly in our local paper but I didn't think it had spread much beyond the area. Nobody recognized him in Harrisonburg, for instance. Of course, he never went to Harrisonburg much. Fortunately, Butch and Jawan arrived in the barn, saving me the trouble of answering. Monster said nothing more, but obviously and immediately saw Jawan differently.
“Here's your man!” Ox announced. “We call him 'Boss Hogg'.” The huge hog lumbered into the indoor pen. I started taking pictures immediately. “Over a thousand pounds,” Ox said. “Look at the tusks. And his dick is just about the same size.” It was plain Ox was proud of his pig. “Of course he never gets to fuck anything. We use artificial insemination. I don't know if any of the sows could take him on.” Ox laughed at the idea. “Kinda like Monster. Monster's hard to take, too but he's my lover.”
“I'm NOT your lover,” Monster protested.
“So how come you keep fucking me?” Ox taunted.
“Twice and I was drunk both times.”
“Three times … not to mention ...”
“And I had to be drunk to do it!” Monster insisted. “I'm not your lover. I'm not anybody's lover.” Monster left the barn clenching his fists.
“Monster's shy,” Ox said, laughing, and then went back to extolling Boss Hogg's virtues. “Excellent vision. Quite affectionate unless he plans to eat you.”
“He'd eat a person? Really?”
“It's been known to happen.” Ox sounded more animated than I'd ever heard him before. “Bones and all. Give 'em time and – pfff – you're a goner. Not a trace left. Except your boots, maybe.”
“Yeah,” Butch agreed. “At the Krol place we always joked about 'getting et by the hogs', but it really happens.”
“Ok, I got enough, Ox. Thanks for bringing him in for me.”
“Anything else I can do for you?” His leer gave me goosebumps. “Beer's not the only thing I like drinking ...” His meaning was clear.
I played it light. “Gotta go to work. Thanks for letting me see Boss Hogg.”
“I'd say Ox likes hogs better than people. Fuckin' weird,” Butch muttered as we got back to the meeting room.
“Lance got like that sometimes,” Jawan said; it was the first time he had said anything about his former employer.
I lost track of time while I loaded the shots of the hog into my computer and played with tones and positions. The hog had a kind of majesty; he was afraid of nothing; he looked at people as if they were equals. Powerful pork. What could I do with that idea?
I modified a single shot of the hog and labeled it 'Pork with Power'. For subheads, I wrote 'Twice as much Iron as Beef', 'Five times as much Calcium as Beef', and 'More B Vitamins than Beef'. In bigger print, I added “Plus it tastes GREAT!' Then I overlaid the hog on a background image of Monster, looking just as powerful as the hog. I defocused the background layer to give the idea of a powerful man, but not the details. Since I couldn't print a blow-up, I hooked it to a big-screen TV.
Driving back home, I basked in my small success. The farmers agreed to try an ad campaign in Virginia and part of North Carolina. I sighed, replaying my pitch in my head and only half listened to Jawan and Butch talking.
“Ox is … a strange man.”
“He always was, even in high school,” Butch agreed. “Monster, though, I'm surprised he and Ox ...”
“But Monster said they're not lovers.”
“They're somethin', I don't know what, but somethin's going on ... although ...“ Butch teased it out.
“Although what?” Jawan asked.
“Monster kinda had his eye on you.”
“No, I don't think so. We were just talking about being personal trainers. He said he can only get part time work where he is. That's why he's working on the farm three days a week. And I was telling him about my old job in Washington. He thought it was pretty funny I lift wood instead of weights.” Jawan changed the subject. “But how 'bout that chick in the pink overalls? You could have taken her for a long ride.”
“You know, she offered. She said she had a breeding pen she wanted to show me.” Butch laughed, a little nervously, I thought.
“Sometimes I miss girls,” Jawan said.
“Not me, they're high maintenance. Mike is much easier to be with.”
“So easy you're raising chickens with him?”
“I hate those fuckin' chickens … but I sold out all the eggs I can produce. That diner over toward Luray wants 'em all.”
“What diner?”
“Come on with me tomorrow. I'll show you.”
Jawan accepted eagerly. His shell was starting to crack.
“It's not worth talking about, Refo.” Jawan was a clam on the subject of himself.
“But it is worth it, if something is bothering you.”
“Really - nothing's bothering me.”
I had repeatedly tried to get Jawan to come out of his shell. I didn't know him really, but he had never seemed so withdrawn when he worked at my gym. He was always cheerful; the customers liked him; and, as far as I knew, he didn't fuck all of them. I decided to take another tack.
“I'm going to a pig farm today and I could really use some help. You want to come?”
“I don't know anything about pigs.”
“Neither do I, but I need help photographing them. Butch is going to come. I could really use both of you. And you don't have any other plans, do you?”
“No, but ...”
“Good. It's settled. Wear old clothes. We'll probably get dirty.”
“They're your clothes.”
“That means they're all old.” I laughed and gave him what I hope was a dazzling smile. “Let's load the Jeep.” We were almost finished loading my blow-ups when Butch arrived on foot.
“You walked five miles?”
“It's not that far if you cut across a couple fields. Do you know your neighbors?” I shook my head no and he got more specific “The ones whose property abuts yours at the back? I think they're gay.” Jawan looked up and began following the conversation. “I say that because I saw them kissing. Sort of a goodbye kiss before one of them left in a truck.”
“Frank tells me these parts are gayer than I think. He's probably right.”
“Yeah, well, it was a sweet kiss. You should get to know them,” Butch concluded.
“Yes, sir. I'll get right on that.” We piled in the Jeep and headed east.
“Jawan? You think I'm slope-shouldered? If I wanted to build up my deltoids, how would I do that?”
Butch asked just the right question. Jawan happily jabbered for the rest of the trip covering anterior, medial, and posterior muscle groups, what to do without equipment, what to do with minimal equipment, and what to do at a gym. “OK?” he wrapped up. “Why do you want to do it, anyway?”
“I have a fat ass. Bigger shoulders would balance it off.” Butch said as we pulled into the farm.
“You don't have a fat ass,” I told him, inspecting the item under discussion.
“I wouldn't say it's fat exactly, but bigger delts are almost always a positive,” Jawan added as he looked him up and down. “Of course, then you'll probably want to work on your lats.”
“Why is everybody checking out this boy's ass?” Marv asked as she joined us inspecting Butch's backside.
“ 'Cause it's near perfect?” Lex suggested. She winked at Butch and made the tiniest possible gesture of blowing him a kiss.”And who's this cutie?” she asked, eying Jawan.
“I'm John Washington,” Jawan said. “You can call me Jawan, if you want. These guys do.”
“What would you like to be called?” Marv asked but didn't wait for his answer. “Ox! Monster! Come here!” She turned her attention back to John Washington.
“Jawan's ok.”
Ox joined us and nodded hello. His friend Monster was more gregarious and did fist bumps all around. “I'm Monster. I guess you can tell why.” Monster was practically bursting out of his clothes. Even under a work jacket it was plain he was a huge. “Butch, good to see you again.”
“He's my lover,” Ox commented.
“I'm his ROOMMATE!” Monster adamantly corrected.
“Let's not start that again,” Marv interrupted. “We've got work to do.”
The farm provided the chairs and easels for my presentation. Butch, Jawan, and Monster did the dog work of setting things up while Marv, Lex, and I rehearsed the pitch. The knotty part was addressing the sexuality of the photography. I felt that including banner text and a complete recipe for making the pictured food toned down the physicality of the models. Marv was much more skeptical. Lex provided the answer.
“Just talk about the pitch, Refo. We're selling pork, not porkin'. I think you've toned it down just right. If somebody brings it up, act surprised as if the questioner is odd for even thinking it.”
I shrugged and went to check on the set up. The group would be about twenty, so the seating arrangement wasn't overly formal and the easels were spread in a semi-circle so that one or the other was close to every chair.
I put the blow-up of the print ads in the easels. Charlie and Jody drew no comments. Butch and Mike got a whoop from Lex. Frank and myself got a “Nice” from Marv. The one of Marv and Lex got a lengthy silence, until Lex spoke up. “You look good, Marv. Refo captured what I saw in you ten years ago.” The rest of us tried to look busy while the two women hugged. Meanwhile I put up the solo shot of Jawan in my underwear lifting a bundle of lumber.
“Fuck me!” Monster sighed in quiet admiration.
“Fuck you is right, bitch,” Ox snarled back.
“Stop it!” Marv demanded and ended the brewing argument. She shook her head in amazement. “Ox, you could start a fight in an empty room.”
“It's too bad you couldn't have all your models here, Refo,” Lex said changing the subject. “They could sell a lot of pork.” She thought her words over and then made another suggestion. “Say, would you two mind helping me with an idea I have?” She led Butch and Jawan into the house, leaving the rest of us in the barn.
“So it'll be a brief introduction by me, then, Refo, you explain your idea of the campaign, and then, Ox, we move to the refreshments. I was hoping you and Monster could serve the beer.”
“Be glad to,” Monster volunteered.
“Serve the beer?” Ox objected. “I'm in charge of the animals. I'm not fuckin' barmaid.”
“If Lex can cook and serve the barbecue, you can serve the beer. OK?” Marv was unquestionably the boss and Ox conceded her position. Again Marv shook her head in my direction and explained her tolerance, “He really is good with the pigs.”
“Ox, I was hoping to get some more shots of the pigs. I'm working on another idea for them. Could you help me with that part?”
“Sure, Refo,” he said conspiratorially, making me regret my request. “You coming, Monster?”
I was glad of the company and was relieved when Monster agreed. I'm not leaving you alone with that … Jawan person around.”
“So my idea is we maximize the hoggy-ness … if that's a word … We make a hog look like a hog. They're never gonna be cute and cuddly ...”
“They are. Cute and cuddly. You just don't understand 'em.”
“Maybe so, but I want a big hog and I want to make it look like the head pig of all time – without any hint of humor. You got an animal who can play that part?”
“I do,” Ox said and went to get him.
Monster took advantage of Ox's absence. “Um, Refo, why do I think I know Jawan? I don't know your part of the state at all, but there's something familiar about him.”
“He's not from Rockingham – he's from Washington. He's just staying with us for a while.”
“Washington ...” Monster puzzled to himself. “Washington … Oh! Wait! Oh, my God! The veterinarian! He's that John Washington???”
I didn't know what to say. I knew Jawan's difficulty had been on the Washington news and mentioned very briefly in our local paper but I didn't think it had spread much beyond the area. Nobody recognized him in Harrisonburg, for instance. Of course, he never went to Harrisonburg much. Fortunately, Butch and Jawan arrived in the barn, saving me the trouble of answering. Monster said nothing more, but obviously and immediately saw Jawan differently.
“Here's your man!” Ox announced. “We call him 'Boss Hogg'.” The huge hog lumbered into the indoor pen. I started taking pictures immediately. “Over a thousand pounds,” Ox said. “Look at the tusks. And his dick is just about the same size.” It was plain Ox was proud of his pig. “Of course he never gets to fuck anything. We use artificial insemination. I don't know if any of the sows could take him on.” Ox laughed at the idea. “Kinda like Monster. Monster's hard to take, too but he's my lover.”
“I'm NOT your lover,” Monster protested.
“So how come you keep fucking me?” Ox taunted.
“Twice and I was drunk both times.”
“Three times … not to mention ...”
“And I had to be drunk to do it!” Monster insisted. “I'm not your lover. I'm not anybody's lover.” Monster left the barn clenching his fists.
“Monster's shy,” Ox said, laughing, and then went back to extolling Boss Hogg's virtues. “Excellent vision. Quite affectionate unless he plans to eat you.”
“He'd eat a person? Really?”
“It's been known to happen.” Ox sounded more animated than I'd ever heard him before. “Bones and all. Give 'em time and – pfff – you're a goner. Not a trace left. Except your boots, maybe.”
“Yeah,” Butch agreed. “At the Krol place we always joked about 'getting et by the hogs', but it really happens.”
“Ok, I got enough, Ox. Thanks for bringing him in for me.”
“Anything else I can do for you?” His leer gave me goosebumps. “Beer's not the only thing I like drinking ...” His meaning was clear.
I played it light. “Gotta go to work. Thanks for letting me see Boss Hogg.”
“I'd say Ox likes hogs better than people. Fuckin' weird,” Butch muttered as we got back to the meeting room.
“Lance got like that sometimes,” Jawan said; it was the first time he had said anything about his former employer.
I lost track of time while I loaded the shots of the hog into my computer and played with tones and positions. The hog had a kind of majesty; he was afraid of nothing; he looked at people as if they were equals. Powerful pork. What could I do with that idea?
I modified a single shot of the hog and labeled it 'Pork with Power'. For subheads, I wrote 'Twice as much Iron as Beef', 'Five times as much Calcium as Beef', and 'More B Vitamins than Beef'. In bigger print, I added “Plus it tastes GREAT!' Then I overlaid the hog on a background image of Monster, looking just as powerful as the hog. I defocused the background layer to give the idea of a powerful man, but not the details. Since I couldn't print a blow-up, I hooked it to a big-screen TV.
Driving back home, I basked in my small success. The farmers agreed to try an ad campaign in Virginia and part of North Carolina. I sighed, replaying my pitch in my head and only half listened to Jawan and Butch talking.
“Ox is … a strange man.”
“He always was, even in high school,” Butch agreed. “Monster, though, I'm surprised he and Ox ...”
“But Monster said they're not lovers.”
“They're somethin', I don't know what, but somethin's going on ... although ...“ Butch teased it out.
“Although what?” Jawan asked.
“Monster kinda had his eye on you.”
“No, I don't think so. We were just talking about being personal trainers. He said he can only get part time work where he is. That's why he's working on the farm three days a week. And I was telling him about my old job in Washington. He thought it was pretty funny I lift wood instead of weights.” Jawan changed the subject. “But how 'bout that chick in the pink overalls? You could have taken her for a long ride.”
“You know, she offered. She said she had a breeding pen she wanted to show me.” Butch laughed, a little nervously, I thought.
“Sometimes I miss girls,” Jawan said.
“Not me, they're high maintenance. Mike is much easier to be with.”
“So easy you're raising chickens with him?”
“I hate those fuckin' chickens … but I sold out all the eggs I can produce. That diner over toward Luray wants 'em all.”
“What diner?”
“Come on with me tomorrow. I'll show you.”
Jawan accepted eagerly. His shell was starting to crack.
Rory,
That was a great installment - more character development and we're starting to get to know Jawan a bit better.
Talk about the Whole Hog - i wonder if Boss Hog was thinking to Monster "Handle IT, Handle IT" . . .
That was a great installment - more character development and we're starting to get to know Jawan a bit better.
Talk about the Whole Hog - i wonder if Boss Hog was thinking to Monster "Handle IT, Handle IT" . . .
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Fifty-Nine
I texted Butch, “Get Jawan home by 11.” At 10:15 Butch dropped him off saying, “Chicken shit work is never done; gotta tend the flock.”
“Wow,” Jawan sighed. “I had no idea chickens were so much work. I thought you just threw some feed at 'em and stood back. But that diner where Butch sells his eggs is a booming business.”
“For breakfast is is. It's kinda dead the rest of the day.”
Out of the blue, he said, “I like Butch.”
“He's taken, you know.” I tried to be gentle.
“I think that's why I like him. He has no interest in me,” Jawan drank some water. “He's just friendly and likes people and I think he could sell anything. The couple who run the diner are in awe of him.”
“He is pretty awesome. I wonder if they know he made some porn flicks.”
“I think they do. They joked about him being a movie star. You know, I think he could have either one of them – or maybe both, if he was interested.” Jawan drank the rest of the water and pulled something out of his mouth. “Chicken down,” he commented. “Butch's truck is full of it. Why did you want me back?”
“Uh, yeah. Monster called and said he was coming by. He has something for you.”
A look of alarm came over Jawan. “M-monster?”
“Right. The big guy at the farm yesterday? Remember him?”
“W-what's he have for me?” Jawan looked at the driveway apprehensively.
“Don't know. He didn't say. Can I take some pictures of you later?” I wasn't sure Jawan heard me; I pushed him. “Naked with a dildo?”
“Sure,” Jawan said, barely listening to me. He was distracted and seemed even a little panicked.
“NAKED WITH A dildo'” I repeated. I don't know what I'd have done if he agreed. I don't actually own a dildo
“What? Who?” Jawan still hadn't heard me. He walked to the door and looked out at the road where a black truck slowly approached and turned in the long driveway. “What do you think he wants?”
The truck was impressive. Big and black, shiny with chrome, it loomed more than sat in the drive as the driver killed the low-thrumming engine. Blackened windows kept the driver a mystery until Monster emerged smiling. “Hey,” he called waving. He came toward the door as I walked out to meet him.
“Hey, Refo. Is Jawan here? I got something for him.”
I called to the barn and Jawan approached slowly, doing his best imitation of a zombie.
Jawan, want to help me? I got something for you. It's not much, but the gym was gonna throw 'em away and I remembered about you lifting lumber, so I thought … Anyway, it's an old barbell set. It's nothing special, but they were gonna throw it all away,” Monster repeated. “And I thought ...” Monster walked to the tailgate of the truck.
Still Jawan said nothing. I felt like poking him. Instead, I filled in the silence. “Wow! Cool, Monster. We can call the old tack room a gym now.” I looked into the bed and saw two bars and various weights tied down with rubber-strapped bungie cords. Monster began unstrapping the cargo and paused grab my hand and help me up into the bed. He lifted me up effortlessly. In turn I tried to pull Jawan up and struggled. Monster took over and made it look easy.
It was a very brief moment, but Monster held Jawan a heartbeat or two too long and then backed away flustered. “I think if we move the stuff to the gate first, we can carry it into the barn,” Monster suggested.
“Great. Sounds like a plan,” I filled in again.
Jawan picked up a couple of the weights and set them on the gate taking great care putting them down. “Don't want to scratch the paint,” he said as he reached for more.
Monster and Jawan took over the job and I stood watching, with Monster moving the weight to the door and Jawan taking them to the old tack room where Frank kept his best lumber that he wanted out of the way. With the final load in Jawan's hands, I invited Monster in.
“Come see what Jawan uses as a gym.” I ignored Jawan's look of protest and ushered Monster in.
“Nice room. High ceiling. Airy. You could put some weight racks on that wall. Maybe a bench here. Probably need a fan in the summer … This is a very nice room,” Monster grinned and turned to the new addition. “Old fashioned weights, you gotta slide 'em on and use a chuck to tighten the set screw ...”
“They're fine,” Jawan said at last. “No need to apologize for anything. Good grips on the bars, a nice selection of weights … They're fine Monster. Thank you for thinking of it.” Jawan was polite but didn't look Monster in the eye. He kept looking around the room and at the weights.”
“Oh … the chuck!” Monster said. “It's in the cab of my truck. I thought it would get lost in the bed. Be right back.”
“The chuck?” I asked Jawan. “And why are you so quiet?”
“The chuck is a little tool to tighten the screws in the end caps that hold the weights on the bar. Newer models make it easier to secure the weights, but this is fine.” He didn't answer the rest of my question.
“Be friendlier,” I muttered as Monster returned with the chuck.
“Two of 'em – in case you lose one.” He passed the small angled rods to Jawan.
“I don't know what to say, Monster. Thanks for doing this.”
Monster smiled at Jawan. It was his turn to stammer. “They were gonna throw 'em away ...” he repeated for the third time.
“Why don't you guys try them out, while I make some ...”
“Water,” they both said at once. “Just water,” Jawan added with a knowing professional smile at Monster.
By the time I got back with the water, they were both in their underwear working out. They were totally engrossed in their actions, talking to each other between grunts and gasps in a kind of weightlifter's shorthand. I put the water and glasses down and admired the view. “Um, you guys wouldn't mind if I took some pictures … Would you?”
I think they said no. At any rate they didn't mind when I returned with my camera and started clicking away. Jawan really had a gorgeous body and made my underwear look like it was painted on, clinging and draping itself on his body like it was part of him. They just kept lifting while I went for the water. My old dry-mouth problem in the presence of male perfection never went away.
Monster was so different. Apollonian Jawan versus Herculean Monster, another photographer would have said comparing the two of them. Jawan was smooth, hard, and slender. Monster was bulkier, more muscular, more intimidating. I would have said much more intimidating except for his wildly colorful underwear. I couldn't figure out what the design was until I moved in for closer shots. Monster's underwear was Kelly green briefs with fluffy white sheep all over them; it set off his chest and legs nicely, but obscured almost completely what it covered up. Only in profile could I detect the curve of his ass and the bulge of his cock.
Before I started feeling too pervy, I put the camera away and left them to their workout. An hour or so later I heard them still talking about weight routines as they walked out to Monster's truck. Smiles and a brief goodbye marked Monster's departure.
Jawan joined me in my office and looked at the pictures. “Awesome, Refo. Which really isn't a good enough word, but I don't know a better one. You make the two of us look like models.”
“Well, that's what you are, posing for me.”
“No, I mean you make us look better than we really look – like real models.”
“I try to make the pictures show what I see. I try to make you look like you – the you that I see in my mind.”
“But this picture of Monster … it just makes me smile to look at it. How did you do that?”
“It's the underwear. It's a total anachronism, playful and colorful – the antithesis of Monster's muscles. It makes him approachable. Makes me want to like him. Why does he wear that underwear anyway? Seems unlike him.”
“He wears it to hide … because he thinks his dick is too small.”
“Really?”
“Really! It's like Butch thinking his ass is fat. I told him his dick is fine, but it's his obsession. I guess we all have one.”
“Um, just curious … how do you know his dick is fine?” This was getting interesting.
“He showed me. It's perfectly fine. Probably the same size as my own, but because he's so massive, it looks smaller.”
“He showed you?”
“People in personal training have to be brutally honest about their customers' bodies. I asked and he showed me. A clinical observation, not a slam. You know, like a doctor.”
“So what's your obsession.”
He screwed up his face and thought. “It's not physical; I'm more or less happy with my body. Ok, my calves are a little skinny, but on the whole I'm ok. My problem is mental. I'm convinced people don't like me. Every now and then I start to believe somebody does … like Lance … and it always turns into a disaster … like Lance.”
“Your calves aren't skinny, Jawan.” Dumb comment, huh? But I didn't know what else to say. Then a thought came to me. I drove over to see Butch. He was adding a section of fencing to his chicken operation.
“What was the big deal with Monster?” Butch asked.
“He brought an old set of weights for Jawan, so he doesn't have to work out with lumber.” I took a hard look at Butch and reached for his head. “You have a feather in your hair.”
He dodged my hand and brushed the feather away himself. “I got feathers everywhere and chicken-shit under my finger nails and egg stains on my britches and … I hate these fuckin' birds.”
“And Mike loves you and Jawan thinks you're awesome. And so do I, for whatever that's worth.”
Butch just smiled and continued, “If I get this additional section built, I can add some birds for eatin'. Fryers and broilers are more profitable than eggs.”
“I'll tell Linda you said that.”
“She's still keeping tabs on me?” Butch smiled again.
“I think she always will, Butch. I would and I'm not even your mother.”
“Yeah, well, ok … tell her hello.”
I was astonished. That was the only time Butch had ever shown any hint of warmth toward a member of the Krol family in the year I had known him. “I will. I'll tell her.” He didn't object and gave me a caught-you-up-with-that-one, didn't-I grin.. “Ok, my big question is, will you and Mike come to dinner? I won't make chicken. I promise.”
“You are planning something, right?”
“I want Jawan to see you and Mike together. You're good role models.”
Butch's sudden laughter alarmed the chickens and feathers flew. “Calm the fuck down, you idiot birds,” he muttered in a soothing way. And they did.
I texted Butch, “Get Jawan home by 11.” At 10:15 Butch dropped him off saying, “Chicken shit work is never done; gotta tend the flock.”
“Wow,” Jawan sighed. “I had no idea chickens were so much work. I thought you just threw some feed at 'em and stood back. But that diner where Butch sells his eggs is a booming business.”
“For breakfast is is. It's kinda dead the rest of the day.”
Out of the blue, he said, “I like Butch.”
“He's taken, you know.” I tried to be gentle.
“I think that's why I like him. He has no interest in me,” Jawan drank some water. “He's just friendly and likes people and I think he could sell anything. The couple who run the diner are in awe of him.”
“He is pretty awesome. I wonder if they know he made some porn flicks.”
“I think they do. They joked about him being a movie star. You know, I think he could have either one of them – or maybe both, if he was interested.” Jawan drank the rest of the water and pulled something out of his mouth. “Chicken down,” he commented. “Butch's truck is full of it. Why did you want me back?”
“Uh, yeah. Monster called and said he was coming by. He has something for you.”
A look of alarm came over Jawan. “M-monster?”
“Right. The big guy at the farm yesterday? Remember him?”
“W-what's he have for me?” Jawan looked at the driveway apprehensively.
“Don't know. He didn't say. Can I take some pictures of you later?” I wasn't sure Jawan heard me; I pushed him. “Naked with a dildo?”
“Sure,” Jawan said, barely listening to me. He was distracted and seemed even a little panicked.
“NAKED WITH A dildo'” I repeated. I don't know what I'd have done if he agreed. I don't actually own a dildo
“What? Who?” Jawan still hadn't heard me. He walked to the door and looked out at the road where a black truck slowly approached and turned in the long driveway. “What do you think he wants?”
The truck was impressive. Big and black, shiny with chrome, it loomed more than sat in the drive as the driver killed the low-thrumming engine. Blackened windows kept the driver a mystery until Monster emerged smiling. “Hey,” he called waving. He came toward the door as I walked out to meet him.
“Hey, Refo. Is Jawan here? I got something for him.”
I called to the barn and Jawan approached slowly, doing his best imitation of a zombie.
Jawan, want to help me? I got something for you. It's not much, but the gym was gonna throw 'em away and I remembered about you lifting lumber, so I thought … Anyway, it's an old barbell set. It's nothing special, but they were gonna throw it all away,” Monster repeated. “And I thought ...” Monster walked to the tailgate of the truck.
Still Jawan said nothing. I felt like poking him. Instead, I filled in the silence. “Wow! Cool, Monster. We can call the old tack room a gym now.” I looked into the bed and saw two bars and various weights tied down with rubber-strapped bungie cords. Monster began unstrapping the cargo and paused grab my hand and help me up into the bed. He lifted me up effortlessly. In turn I tried to pull Jawan up and struggled. Monster took over and made it look easy.
It was a very brief moment, but Monster held Jawan a heartbeat or two too long and then backed away flustered. “I think if we move the stuff to the gate first, we can carry it into the barn,” Monster suggested.
“Great. Sounds like a plan,” I filled in again.
Jawan picked up a couple of the weights and set them on the gate taking great care putting them down. “Don't want to scratch the paint,” he said as he reached for more.
Monster and Jawan took over the job and I stood watching, with Monster moving the weight to the door and Jawan taking them to the old tack room where Frank kept his best lumber that he wanted out of the way. With the final load in Jawan's hands, I invited Monster in.
“Come see what Jawan uses as a gym.” I ignored Jawan's look of protest and ushered Monster in.
“Nice room. High ceiling. Airy. You could put some weight racks on that wall. Maybe a bench here. Probably need a fan in the summer … This is a very nice room,” Monster grinned and turned to the new addition. “Old fashioned weights, you gotta slide 'em on and use a chuck to tighten the set screw ...”
“They're fine,” Jawan said at last. “No need to apologize for anything. Good grips on the bars, a nice selection of weights … They're fine Monster. Thank you for thinking of it.” Jawan was polite but didn't look Monster in the eye. He kept looking around the room and at the weights.”
“Oh … the chuck!” Monster said. “It's in the cab of my truck. I thought it would get lost in the bed. Be right back.”
“The chuck?” I asked Jawan. “And why are you so quiet?”
“The chuck is a little tool to tighten the screws in the end caps that hold the weights on the bar. Newer models make it easier to secure the weights, but this is fine.” He didn't answer the rest of my question.
“Be friendlier,” I muttered as Monster returned with the chuck.
“Two of 'em – in case you lose one.” He passed the small angled rods to Jawan.
“I don't know what to say, Monster. Thanks for doing this.”
Monster smiled at Jawan. It was his turn to stammer. “They were gonna throw 'em away ...” he repeated for the third time.
“Why don't you guys try them out, while I make some ...”
“Water,” they both said at once. “Just water,” Jawan added with a knowing professional smile at Monster.
By the time I got back with the water, they were both in their underwear working out. They were totally engrossed in their actions, talking to each other between grunts and gasps in a kind of weightlifter's shorthand. I put the water and glasses down and admired the view. “Um, you guys wouldn't mind if I took some pictures … Would you?”
I think they said no. At any rate they didn't mind when I returned with my camera and started clicking away. Jawan really had a gorgeous body and made my underwear look like it was painted on, clinging and draping itself on his body like it was part of him. They just kept lifting while I went for the water. My old dry-mouth problem in the presence of male perfection never went away.
Monster was so different. Apollonian Jawan versus Herculean Monster, another photographer would have said comparing the two of them. Jawan was smooth, hard, and slender. Monster was bulkier, more muscular, more intimidating. I would have said much more intimidating except for his wildly colorful underwear. I couldn't figure out what the design was until I moved in for closer shots. Monster's underwear was Kelly green briefs with fluffy white sheep all over them; it set off his chest and legs nicely, but obscured almost completely what it covered up. Only in profile could I detect the curve of his ass and the bulge of his cock.
Before I started feeling too pervy, I put the camera away and left them to their workout. An hour or so later I heard them still talking about weight routines as they walked out to Monster's truck. Smiles and a brief goodbye marked Monster's departure.
Jawan joined me in my office and looked at the pictures. “Awesome, Refo. Which really isn't a good enough word, but I don't know a better one. You make the two of us look like models.”
“Well, that's what you are, posing for me.”
“No, I mean you make us look better than we really look – like real models.”
“I try to make the pictures show what I see. I try to make you look like you – the you that I see in my mind.”
“But this picture of Monster … it just makes me smile to look at it. How did you do that?”
“It's the underwear. It's a total anachronism, playful and colorful – the antithesis of Monster's muscles. It makes him approachable. Makes me want to like him. Why does he wear that underwear anyway? Seems unlike him.”
“He wears it to hide … because he thinks his dick is too small.”
“Really?”
“Really! It's like Butch thinking his ass is fat. I told him his dick is fine, but it's his obsession. I guess we all have one.”
“Um, just curious … how do you know his dick is fine?” This was getting interesting.
“He showed me. It's perfectly fine. Probably the same size as my own, but because he's so massive, it looks smaller.”
“He showed you?”
“People in personal training have to be brutally honest about their customers' bodies. I asked and he showed me. A clinical observation, not a slam. You know, like a doctor.”
“So what's your obsession.”
He screwed up his face and thought. “It's not physical; I'm more or less happy with my body. Ok, my calves are a little skinny, but on the whole I'm ok. My problem is mental. I'm convinced people don't like me. Every now and then I start to believe somebody does … like Lance … and it always turns into a disaster … like Lance.”
“Your calves aren't skinny, Jawan.” Dumb comment, huh? But I didn't know what else to say. Then a thought came to me. I drove over to see Butch. He was adding a section of fencing to his chicken operation.
“What was the big deal with Monster?” Butch asked.
“He brought an old set of weights for Jawan, so he doesn't have to work out with lumber.” I took a hard look at Butch and reached for his head. “You have a feather in your hair.”
He dodged my hand and brushed the feather away himself. “I got feathers everywhere and chicken-shit under my finger nails and egg stains on my britches and … I hate these fuckin' birds.”
“And Mike loves you and Jawan thinks you're awesome. And so do I, for whatever that's worth.”
Butch just smiled and continued, “If I get this additional section built, I can add some birds for eatin'. Fryers and broilers are more profitable than eggs.”
“I'll tell Linda you said that.”
“She's still keeping tabs on me?” Butch smiled again.
“I think she always will, Butch. I would and I'm not even your mother.”
“Yeah, well, ok … tell her hello.”
I was astonished. That was the only time Butch had ever shown any hint of warmth toward a member of the Krol family in the year I had known him. “I will. I'll tell her.” He didn't object and gave me a caught-you-up-with-that-one, didn't-I grin.. “Ok, my big question is, will you and Mike come to dinner? I won't make chicken. I promise.”
“You are planning something, right?”
“I want Jawan to see you and Mike together. You're good role models.”
Butch's sudden laughter alarmed the chickens and feathers flew. “Calm the fuck down, you idiot birds,” he muttered in a soothing way. And they did.
I'm so glad the instant message is working - a nice break at work!
A very nice chapter, Rory. The guys are becoming more flesh and blood - with their strengths and weaknesses.
Now to get Jawan/John out of his shell and sense of low esteem.
A very nice chapter, Rory. The guys are becoming more flesh and blood - with their strengths and weaknesses.
Now to get Jawan/John out of his shell and sense of low esteem.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Sixty
“So I told him, Frank. I said 'I think it's mostly in your head, but we have cures for that.' Jawan thought that was being too judgmental. What? He asked my opinion!”
“Refo, you're not a psychiatrist. He was looking for a little sympathy, not electroshock therapy.”
“Well … he's got all my sympathy. He explained that Lampedusa was keeping him prisoner, and raping him, and threatening him with castration. But, it's been a few weeks now. Time for Jawan to get off his ass.”
“You realize that Lampedusa is back in his office as if nothing happened. Jawan never complained to the police. There was no evidence to charge him with anything. I think Jawan has the right to be a little worried, especially if he goes back to Washington. Let him stay here, if he wants,as long as he wants. And take it easy on him, ok? It was a good idea having Butch and Mike over. They all seemed to get along. Let him see a few more or less normal people. Maybe we should have Charlie and Jody over, too.” Frank followed his lecture to me with a nice blowjob before we went to sleep; he's very good at balancing punishment and reward.
Alright, maybe I was being too much of a Dudley Do-right with Jawan, but I didn't tell Frank everything. Jawan also admitted to me being both desperate and repulsed by his search for love. He came right out and said it.
“Refo, I've been fucked by half of Washington, and I have nothing to show for it. Nobody I can call a friend, really, nobody but you and Frank. Look how trying to get Lance to like me ended up. I've got nothing to show for any of it,” he repeated.
“Fortunately, you don't have any health issues to show for it either. And you topped guys, Jawan, a lot of them. You weren't always on your back. Butch said you were a great teacher.”
“Topping guys … that didn't get me anywhere either. So I've decided I'm swearing off sex. I can do without it. Or I'll learn to.”
“Jawan, you're not the only one stumbling through life. Half the world has no plan at all. And the other half … Take me, for example. Charlie said I fell in love with ever guy who ever fucked me, and that's no tiny number, by the way, spread over ten years. And he was right. I got messed over all the time, until I met Frank.”
“Charlie ...” Jawan chuckled.
“What about him? Do you know something?” The possibility of knowing a little dirt about Charlie was compelling. I never knew much about him and he knew everything about me.
“Nothing bad,” Jawan shrugged. “He wishes guys could fuck each other simultaneously.”
“That's what double-ended dildos are for.”
“He's not into toys.”
Great news. I already knew that. “Well, making this about you again, you can't become a recluse, the old man of the mountains, existing in theory only, poisoned by your own semen. I'm not letting you.”
Jawan smiled at me with a gentle as-if-you-could-stop-me look and we let it drop. He went to work out with his new weights and I began scanning some pork recipes for more James River ads. I looked up when I heard the crunching of tires in the gravel outside.
The truck parked and I watched Monster approach the barn uncertainly. “Uh, Refo … Hi … I think I left my watch here yesterday ...”
“Come in! You didn't have to come all this way. I was heading your way tomorrow.”
“That's ok. I have half a day off anyway. Uh ...” He actually blushed. “Is Jawan here?”
I nodded and, for a big man, he practically scampered back to the tack room. I wrapped up my pork fantasies and thought about an excuse to leave Monster and Jawan alone. A phone call provided one. It was Linda Krol, sounding a little pathetic, if you can ever say that about a billionaire.
“Refo, how's Butch doing?”
“Fine as far as I know, Linda. He's selling eggs and making plans to add broilers and fryers. He claims he hates it, but he's doing well and seems happy.”
“I want to see him.” She seemed determined but wanted some idea of what Butch's reaction might be. I promised to feel him out and let her know. “Quickly, Refo? Can you do it quickly?”
“I'll go right now and ask him.” Voila! My excuse to let nature work things out in the tack room.
As I drove the five miles to Mike and Butch's place, I shook my head to get the vision of Jawan and Monster out of my head. When I looked in on them to say goodbye, Jawan was lifting and Monster spotting. Jawan's medium-toned skin glowed against the white of his boxer-briefs, while Monster, paler, looked like Tarzan in the tiger-striped lycra he was wearing. It seemed inconceivable to me that their workout didn't start with a warmup fuck. How could they resist each other? They would raise the temperature of any gym five degrees just standing around.
I knocked on the door of Mike's house and heard Butch call from the back. He was adding another area to his fencing. “Hey, Reef! It's gonna be home for another rooster. The brood is growing. Just let me finish this and water the flock. You still likin' the Jeep?”
“I am. Wish it got better mileage, though. Does the fence really need to be that high?”
“Roosters with the right motivation, like a hot chick in the next enclosure, can fly over a six-foot fence.” He stapled the last of the cage wire in place and led me to the larger pen. I watched him enter and fill some troughs with water. The chickens clustered around him clucking quietly. I had no idea chickens could be affectionate. He stroked a few of them gently and came out.
“Butch, those chickens love you.”
“Yeah, some of them,” he admitted. “Stupid fuckers.”
“You have a way with them. Really.”
“Yeah,” he nodded and then spat something small out of his mouth. “Feathers everywhere.”
“Linda called.”
“Yeah?” He sounded mildly interested.
“She wants to ...”
I was interrupted by Mike's truck arriving. Butch was transformed. I watched him walk up to the truck as Mike got out. They started smiling at ten paces and stood next to each other to exchange a few brief words. Then Mike literally picked Butch off the ground and kissed him. I turned away and watched the chickens do chicken things like trying to eat rocks. Maybe they are as stupid as Butch says.
“Refo!” I turned back to Mike's call. The two of them came walking toward me unable to stop stealing glances at each other. I wondered if Frank and I looked as much in love. Charlie and Jody sure didn't, but I was never positive about how much of their arrangement was emotional and how much was practical. “I was picking up some lumber and thought I'd stop for lunch. You want to join us?”
I got the distinct impression that lunch wasn't Mike real motivation. “Uh, no thanks. I just wanted to talk to Butch about some Delaware business ...”
“Ok, I'll leave you to it. I'll be in the house, Butchie.”
I spoke quickly and quietly. “She – Linda - wants to see how you're doing, Butch. Can she visit?” I braced myself for his answer.
“Sure, I guess.” He thought a minute. “Yeah, why not? Tell her I'm usually busy in the morning until 10 or so. She can come for lunch if she's hungry.”
I tried not to act surprised by his offer of hospitality. “Ok, I'll tell her. Go on to lunch.” I walked to the Jeep and watched as Butch ran full out to the house. Twenty-year-olds in love are amazing.
I decided to leave Monster and Jawan on their own for a while longer and take the Jeep for a little run. I liked the way it drove - beautifully, compared to the Mazda; but I had never really challenged it. I wasn't ready for 'muddin', the state sport of West Virginia; still, off-road seemed like a possibility. Maybe take a few pictures of … of … whatever off the road looks like.
Maybe Jody and Charlie's place would work. It wasn't posted land. They wouldn't mind. The weather wasn't too cool. Let's do it. I considered stopping for a six pack to buff my image, but decided that was overkill. I wasn't dressed right anyway.
With the leaves off the trees, the land along the river looked barren, as if there had been a forest fire. There was still undergrowth, though, and that obscured my vision. I parked the Jeep and decided to walk, stopping now and then to take pictures of near-winter vegetation in its skeletal state. The milkweed pods were especially dramatic in closeup. I swept the landscape looking for my next photo-op and saw a flash of color. I looked back and saw a couple making winter-adapted love. They were mostly clothed but for the essential exposure; it was obvious what they were up to. I switched lenses to my telephoto and took another look. Oh … my … God … It was Charlie and Jody, totally lost in rapture. It appeared that their climaxes had been recent and they were still basking in the afterglow. It wasn't clear who had fucked who, but their pleasure was complete and unmistakable. The lingering kisses, whispered words. The look on their faces was … My mouth had gone dry and I wished for some water. I was tempted, but I didn't take any pictures. As I tried to walk silently back to the Jeep, I sounded to my own ears like a herd of buffalo. I glanced back and saw the couple still in each other's arms.
In my attempt to silently steal away I managed to set off the Jeep's anti-theft alarm. To me it seemed like I took five minutes figuring out how to shut it off. Oh, fuck! Starting the engine worked and I drove away as quietly as I could. I was hyped and jumpy and wondered just how caught I was.
The sound of my phone startled me and I swerved on the empty road. I thought I recovered nicely but in the process managed to knock the phone to the floor. I parked the Jeep and dove for the phone. “Hello, hello,” I hadn't bothered to check to see who was calling.
“Refo, I'm me!” I listered to a female voice sounding edgy.
“Me who?”
“Sarah Felsen, numb nuts! I've got to talk to you before … before I have my sex change.” I heard a sharp intake of air on the other end of the call.
“Sex change? Sarah! Wh ...” I overcame speechlessness and blurted out, “What about that nice rack?”
“These bazooms are comin' off.” I couldn't see her, but she sounded determined.
Just then a familiar truck drove past. Jody was laughing and waving. Charlie was shaking his finger at me. “I'm fucked,” I sighed.
“YOU”RE FUCKED??? WHAT ABOUT ME???” Sarah screamed.
“So I told him, Frank. I said 'I think it's mostly in your head, but we have cures for that.' Jawan thought that was being too judgmental. What? He asked my opinion!”
“Refo, you're not a psychiatrist. He was looking for a little sympathy, not electroshock therapy.”
“Well … he's got all my sympathy. He explained that Lampedusa was keeping him prisoner, and raping him, and threatening him with castration. But, it's been a few weeks now. Time for Jawan to get off his ass.”
“You realize that Lampedusa is back in his office as if nothing happened. Jawan never complained to the police. There was no evidence to charge him with anything. I think Jawan has the right to be a little worried, especially if he goes back to Washington. Let him stay here, if he wants,as long as he wants. And take it easy on him, ok? It was a good idea having Butch and Mike over. They all seemed to get along. Let him see a few more or less normal people. Maybe we should have Charlie and Jody over, too.” Frank followed his lecture to me with a nice blowjob before we went to sleep; he's very good at balancing punishment and reward.
Alright, maybe I was being too much of a Dudley Do-right with Jawan, but I didn't tell Frank everything. Jawan also admitted to me being both desperate and repulsed by his search for love. He came right out and said it.
“Refo, I've been fucked by half of Washington, and I have nothing to show for it. Nobody I can call a friend, really, nobody but you and Frank. Look how trying to get Lance to like me ended up. I've got nothing to show for any of it,” he repeated.
“Fortunately, you don't have any health issues to show for it either. And you topped guys, Jawan, a lot of them. You weren't always on your back. Butch said you were a great teacher.”
“Topping guys … that didn't get me anywhere either. So I've decided I'm swearing off sex. I can do without it. Or I'll learn to.”
“Jawan, you're not the only one stumbling through life. Half the world has no plan at all. And the other half … Take me, for example. Charlie said I fell in love with ever guy who ever fucked me, and that's no tiny number, by the way, spread over ten years. And he was right. I got messed over all the time, until I met Frank.”
“Charlie ...” Jawan chuckled.
“What about him? Do you know something?” The possibility of knowing a little dirt about Charlie was compelling. I never knew much about him and he knew everything about me.
“Nothing bad,” Jawan shrugged. “He wishes guys could fuck each other simultaneously.”
“That's what double-ended dildos are for.”
“He's not into toys.”
Great news. I already knew that. “Well, making this about you again, you can't become a recluse, the old man of the mountains, existing in theory only, poisoned by your own semen. I'm not letting you.”
Jawan smiled at me with a gentle as-if-you-could-stop-me look and we let it drop. He went to work out with his new weights and I began scanning some pork recipes for more James River ads. I looked up when I heard the crunching of tires in the gravel outside.
The truck parked and I watched Monster approach the barn uncertainly. “Uh, Refo … Hi … I think I left my watch here yesterday ...”
“Come in! You didn't have to come all this way. I was heading your way tomorrow.”
“That's ok. I have half a day off anyway. Uh ...” He actually blushed. “Is Jawan here?”
I nodded and, for a big man, he practically scampered back to the tack room. I wrapped up my pork fantasies and thought about an excuse to leave Monster and Jawan alone. A phone call provided one. It was Linda Krol, sounding a little pathetic, if you can ever say that about a billionaire.
“Refo, how's Butch doing?”
“Fine as far as I know, Linda. He's selling eggs and making plans to add broilers and fryers. He claims he hates it, but he's doing well and seems happy.”
“I want to see him.” She seemed determined but wanted some idea of what Butch's reaction might be. I promised to feel him out and let her know. “Quickly, Refo? Can you do it quickly?”
“I'll go right now and ask him.” Voila! My excuse to let nature work things out in the tack room.
As I drove the five miles to Mike and Butch's place, I shook my head to get the vision of Jawan and Monster out of my head. When I looked in on them to say goodbye, Jawan was lifting and Monster spotting. Jawan's medium-toned skin glowed against the white of his boxer-briefs, while Monster, paler, looked like Tarzan in the tiger-striped lycra he was wearing. It seemed inconceivable to me that their workout didn't start with a warmup fuck. How could they resist each other? They would raise the temperature of any gym five degrees just standing around.
I knocked on the door of Mike's house and heard Butch call from the back. He was adding another area to his fencing. “Hey, Reef! It's gonna be home for another rooster. The brood is growing. Just let me finish this and water the flock. You still likin' the Jeep?”
“I am. Wish it got better mileage, though. Does the fence really need to be that high?”
“Roosters with the right motivation, like a hot chick in the next enclosure, can fly over a six-foot fence.” He stapled the last of the cage wire in place and led me to the larger pen. I watched him enter and fill some troughs with water. The chickens clustered around him clucking quietly. I had no idea chickens could be affectionate. He stroked a few of them gently and came out.
“Butch, those chickens love you.”
“Yeah, some of them,” he admitted. “Stupid fuckers.”
“You have a way with them. Really.”
“Yeah,” he nodded and then spat something small out of his mouth. “Feathers everywhere.”
“Linda called.”
“Yeah?” He sounded mildly interested.
“She wants to ...”
I was interrupted by Mike's truck arriving. Butch was transformed. I watched him walk up to the truck as Mike got out. They started smiling at ten paces and stood next to each other to exchange a few brief words. Then Mike literally picked Butch off the ground and kissed him. I turned away and watched the chickens do chicken things like trying to eat rocks. Maybe they are as stupid as Butch says.
“Refo!” I turned back to Mike's call. The two of them came walking toward me unable to stop stealing glances at each other. I wondered if Frank and I looked as much in love. Charlie and Jody sure didn't, but I was never positive about how much of their arrangement was emotional and how much was practical. “I was picking up some lumber and thought I'd stop for lunch. You want to join us?”
I got the distinct impression that lunch wasn't Mike real motivation. “Uh, no thanks. I just wanted to talk to Butch about some Delaware business ...”
“Ok, I'll leave you to it. I'll be in the house, Butchie.”
I spoke quickly and quietly. “She – Linda - wants to see how you're doing, Butch. Can she visit?” I braced myself for his answer.
“Sure, I guess.” He thought a minute. “Yeah, why not? Tell her I'm usually busy in the morning until 10 or so. She can come for lunch if she's hungry.”
I tried not to act surprised by his offer of hospitality. “Ok, I'll tell her. Go on to lunch.” I walked to the Jeep and watched as Butch ran full out to the house. Twenty-year-olds in love are amazing.
I decided to leave Monster and Jawan on their own for a while longer and take the Jeep for a little run. I liked the way it drove - beautifully, compared to the Mazda; but I had never really challenged it. I wasn't ready for 'muddin', the state sport of West Virginia; still, off-road seemed like a possibility. Maybe take a few pictures of … of … whatever off the road looks like.
Maybe Jody and Charlie's place would work. It wasn't posted land. They wouldn't mind. The weather wasn't too cool. Let's do it. I considered stopping for a six pack to buff my image, but decided that was overkill. I wasn't dressed right anyway.
With the leaves off the trees, the land along the river looked barren, as if there had been a forest fire. There was still undergrowth, though, and that obscured my vision. I parked the Jeep and decided to walk, stopping now and then to take pictures of near-winter vegetation in its skeletal state. The milkweed pods were especially dramatic in closeup. I swept the landscape looking for my next photo-op and saw a flash of color. I looked back and saw a couple making winter-adapted love. They were mostly clothed but for the essential exposure; it was obvious what they were up to. I switched lenses to my telephoto and took another look. Oh … my … God … It was Charlie and Jody, totally lost in rapture. It appeared that their climaxes had been recent and they were still basking in the afterglow. It wasn't clear who had fucked who, but their pleasure was complete and unmistakable. The lingering kisses, whispered words. The look on their faces was … My mouth had gone dry and I wished for some water. I was tempted, but I didn't take any pictures. As I tried to walk silently back to the Jeep, I sounded to my own ears like a herd of buffalo. I glanced back and saw the couple still in each other's arms.
In my attempt to silently steal away I managed to set off the Jeep's anti-theft alarm. To me it seemed like I took five minutes figuring out how to shut it off. Oh, fuck! Starting the engine worked and I drove away as quietly as I could. I was hyped and jumpy and wondered just how caught I was.
The sound of my phone startled me and I swerved on the empty road. I thought I recovered nicely but in the process managed to knock the phone to the floor. I parked the Jeep and dove for the phone. “Hello, hello,” I hadn't bothered to check to see who was calling.
“Refo, I'm me!” I listered to a female voice sounding edgy.
“Me who?”
“Sarah Felsen, numb nuts! I've got to talk to you before … before I have my sex change.” I heard a sharp intake of air on the other end of the call.
“Sex change? Sarah! Wh ...” I overcame speechlessness and blurted out, “What about that nice rack?”
“These bazooms are comin' off.” I couldn't see her, but she sounded determined.
Just then a familiar truck drove past. Jody was laughing and waving. Charlie was shaking his finger at me. “I'm fucked,” I sighed.
“YOU”RE FUCKED??? WHAT ABOUT ME???” Sarah screamed.