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In Praise of Hanes
- Thread starter EasyRory
- Start date
Rory,
THAT turned into quite an interesting installment, indeed!
THAT turned into quite an interesting installment, indeed!
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Sixty-One
You win some; you lose some. My call to Linda Krol without a doubt made her day or maybe her year. Her thanks for arranging the visit to Butch were so effusive that I wondered if something else was going on. She said she would arrive at my place the following morning and could I please drive her to Mike and Butch's house. Well, sure, Linda. That was easy enough.
After that call, I got back on the dismal road to Washington and went to my 'official' goodbye party. Dr. Bloch wasn't there, of course, but a surprisingly large number of people were – nobody important, but still I was flattered by the turnout. Sarah was there, looking dramatic in black with a lot of cleavage showing.
“Sarah,” I hissed. “What the ...”
“Meet me at the after-party,” she answered rather curtly.
“There's an after-party? Nobody told me,” I said to her back as she approached somebody I didn't know. For a party supposedly in my honor, there were lots of people I didn't know.
I found Carter and Lucien by themselves as far from Sarah as the room would allow. “Guys!”
“Refo, what are you doing here?” Carter looked surprised to see me.
“It's my Fare-thee-fucking-well Party … duh?”
“It is? I thought it was a Welcome Party for new interns.”
“Nice to see you, too, Lucien.”
I was bewildered until the official announcements were made. It was in fact a welcome affair for some new interns. I got a brief goodbye shout-out by someone who mispronounced my name at the end of the formal agenda. As the crowd started to leave Sarah stuffed a note into my hand and walked off.
“Bethesda Hyatt Bar – NOW!” she had written.
It's always weird to go into a dark bar in the middle of the day, but I once heard they sell more drinks that way. After knocking over one chair and tripping on curled-up electrical cord, I groped my way to Sarah's table and sat. She eyed me over the rim of the giant martini glass at her lips.
“It's only lime water,” she explained. “I just like the look of a martini. Don't start, Refo.”
I hadn't started anything.
“So what is it? The Party? Or the sex change? Don't start, Refo.” She took another pull on her pseudo-martini. “There wasn't a big response for your farewell, so we combined it with another party. Did you get your engraved plaque?” She paused for a heartbeat. “Don't start, Refo. This isn't about you.” She signaled the waitress and asked for another.
“Happy hour prices in five minutes, hon.” The waitress was trying to be helpful.
“Hon is thirsty now,” Sarah replied. “And leave out the olives this time.”
“Olives? In lime water?” I asked.
“Lime water?” the waitress said. “I thought it was a Taipei Typhoon.”
“Olives? In Taipei?” I queried.
“Shut up, Refo,” to me; and “Just bring the drink, please,” Sarah said to the waitress without a hint of politeness. “So I'm thinkin' of Sam – for my new name. Trying to masculinize Sarah was yucky. Then I can just stay with S. Felsen for professional purposes.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because Sarah isn't a great name for a man. Literally, it means princess.”
“No, I mean the sex change. Why do it, Sarah?”
The waitress's gasp was barely audible, as she put down two Taipei Typhoons. “Here ya go, hon,” she said to me. She offered Sarah's drink with a tight smile and left. I picked the waterlogged paper umbrella out of my drink, sipped, and then gasped hoping my throat was ok.
“Because being a straight woman is getting me nowhere … and being a lesbian was … I had to eat out a lot of unattractive women.”
“But you have Woodie and Carter and Lucien ...”
“Had. Woodie left terrified he was turning gay. I don't know why he would think that. Maybe because he was begging to get fucked all the time? You think? He was even starting to walk funny.” She shook her head in disgust. “And Carter … so cute, isn't he? I get moist thinking about him … he was only there to get on, in, and under Lucien.” She drank down half the Typhoon, wheezing a little. “And Lucien … crazier than a cuckoo clock. He decides at long last he's in love with Carter and deals me out of the game.”
“He's always been in love with Carter. He just has a problem admitting it.”
“Well, he was a pretty convincing straight guy for a while there. Knew just what to do.” The protective layers fell away. “I'm desperate, Refo. I don't know what to do. And quit looking at my boobs every time I say something.” She giggled a little. I couldn't tell if she liked my looking at her boobs or liked the Typhoons.
“They're nice boobs, Sarah.”
“You want to try marrying me again? I could cede half of you to Frank.” She wasn't serious, just terribly pathetic.
“So you're not really going to do it?”
“I'm basically a coward.” She looked down, checking herself out. “They are nice boobs, aren't they?”
“And being a lesbian isn't gonna work either? Maybe try something more basic. Step One. That Jewish singles group?”
She sighed, “There's a reason those men are single.”
“So you've tried it already ...” I watched her nod yes. “So stop trying. Just coast for a while. Join a gym. Take cooking lessons.”
“Gyms and cooking schools are full of gay guys. I've tried.”
“What about going after specific guys? What about Dr. Bloch?”
“Are you serious? He's married.”
“No, he isn't.”
“You're kidding! He's not? Who is that woman he's always with?”
“His former secretary. She's a widow. Won't marry him. Just likes the dates and whatever else they get up to when no one's around.”
“How do you know this?” Sarah was alert and challenging, even if her words were slurred.
“She told me. Once I joked that he never got my name right and she said, 'At least with you he gets the first letter right.' And right then he called her Muriel. Her name is Nancy.”
“See, Refo. See how good it is to talk to you. You're so fucked up.” She finished her drink. “Want another one? It's happy hour or something.” Saying no got me a wet kiss goodbye that could have been an invitation home if I wanted it to be. She paused to test my reaction. “Last chance … they're comin' off ...” She laughed when I looked at her boobs again. I left feeling uneasy about Sarah or Sam.
Two hours later I got to the barn feeling refreshed by having the windows down for the last fifteen miles of the drive, physically and spiritually back to normal. At least that was what I thought. Jawan changed that idea in a hurry.
“Wow! What have you been drinking?
“Taipei Typhoons … just one.”
“I think one was enough,” he laughed. At least I had put him in a jolly mood. “I made a drawing for Frank.”
“What?”
“He thinks a permanent set up for the weights would be good. So I drew up a diagram of racks that would be handy for workouts and storage.”
“Make the room a real gym.” Not a bad idea, I decided, looking at his sketch.
“And we could use blowups of you and Monster as inspiration.” I used the big tv screen to show him the shots I had taken of the two of them working out.
“Refo, you can't use those. We're in our underwear and … blown up like this … you can see everything.”
“Everything looks pretty good to me, Jawan. What's wrong with showing it? It's not THAT explicit. Just outlines … Which reminds me … I still have some stuff hanging on the wall in Washington ...”
Jawan stared at the screen. “Monster's almost perfect, isn't he? There's a body building contest in DC. He'd take first, for sure. Look at his back … Awesome ...” I switched to another shot of Monster taken from the side. “Look at that … Even relaxed ...” I manipulated the saturation and contrast making Monster's tiger-striped underwear almost disappear. Jawan gasped quietly. “Jeez ...”
“Look through the shots,” I suggested and showed Jawan how to advance picture gallery. “Pick out some good ones for the wall. I'm gonna take a little nap ...”
The next thing I knew I felt Frank slipping into bed with me. The room was dark and Frank was naked. “My God, what time is it?”
“Bed time,” Frank said.
“Dinner? What about dinner?”
“I had left-overs with Jawan and Merle, while you slept it off.”
“One drink ...I just had one!”
Frank chuckled and kissed me. “A little mouth wash wouldn't hurt.”
I dashed to the bathroom, took a piss, washed my dick off, and swished out my mouth. I guess I was presentable. I returned to the bedroom.
“Stand there a minute, in the moonlight,” Frank said as I passed the window.
“Why? What are you doing?”
“I'm jacking off looking at you. You look so hot, Reef.”
“Look hot. Feel cold,” I said jumping back into the warmth of the bed. Merle, sensing what was up, jumped down.
Frank's hands were on me, roaming. “Jawan was looking at your porn when I got home.”
“It's not porn. Oooohhh!” He sucked my cock into his mouth slowly and then came up for air.
“It sure got Jawan hard. I think I caught him beating off. He was all flustered when I came in. I could see the bulge in his jeans.” Frank chuckled and went back to sucking my cock.
“Oh, Frankie,” I sighed.
“I want to fuck you,” he whispered.
“Baby,” I answered. I pulled him into a kiss and wrapped my legs around his waist. It was an invitation. I tensed as he entered me and then melted as he slow-stroked me. His pace was regular and his tempo constant. It felt like he was filling my whole body. Every bit of my skin wanted him. And he has this way of enveloping me, sucking me into him, infusing me. Drives me insane. I kissed him hungrily, biting his lip, wanting him to bite me back. The kisses became bruising, making our lips tender and swollen and the fuck continued, slow and relentless. I heard sounds of pleasure. I don't know who made them.
“So good,” I told him. I couldn't say any more.
His pace quickened slightly, incrementally, until he was slamming into me. I came. He came. I love yous were whispered breathlessly. Our kisses were softer, gentler. He stayed in me as his cock shrank. I wanted him to stay in me all night, but eventually he popped out. I felt an emptiness in me. I want you back in me, I thought.
I think he heard my need because he started to apologize for going soft. I wouldn't let him. I shut him up with kisses. I don't know when I fell asleep, but it felt like I kissed him all night. I woke with that electric feeling of youth that good sex gives you, like every bit of my body was perfectly satisfied. Frank was still asleep. “I love you,” I whispered, trying not to wake him. Reflexively, he hugged me. I'm pretty sure he didn't wake up. I relaxed and dozed another few minutes and then eased my way out of bed.
Happier than I had ever felt in my life, I started making breakfast. I never heard him coming, just felt his arms go around me. He nuzzled my neck, pricking me with his overnight growth of beard. It felt exactly right. “Are you crying?” he asked.
“No, of course not. It's the onions for the omelet.” I relaxed in his arms and felt him pressing against my butt. “Go see if Jawan is up or you'll have to fuck me on the kitchen floor.”
Merle seemed to like the kitchen floor idea, his wagging tail thumped against a chair as he watched us.
You win some; you lose some. My call to Linda Krol without a doubt made her day or maybe her year. Her thanks for arranging the visit to Butch were so effusive that I wondered if something else was going on. She said she would arrive at my place the following morning and could I please drive her to Mike and Butch's house. Well, sure, Linda. That was easy enough.
After that call, I got back on the dismal road to Washington and went to my 'official' goodbye party. Dr. Bloch wasn't there, of course, but a surprisingly large number of people were – nobody important, but still I was flattered by the turnout. Sarah was there, looking dramatic in black with a lot of cleavage showing.
“Sarah,” I hissed. “What the ...”
“Meet me at the after-party,” she answered rather curtly.
“There's an after-party? Nobody told me,” I said to her back as she approached somebody I didn't know. For a party supposedly in my honor, there were lots of people I didn't know.
I found Carter and Lucien by themselves as far from Sarah as the room would allow. “Guys!”
“Refo, what are you doing here?” Carter looked surprised to see me.
“It's my Fare-thee-fucking-well Party … duh?”
“It is? I thought it was a Welcome Party for new interns.”
“Nice to see you, too, Lucien.”
I was bewildered until the official announcements were made. It was in fact a welcome affair for some new interns. I got a brief goodbye shout-out by someone who mispronounced my name at the end of the formal agenda. As the crowd started to leave Sarah stuffed a note into my hand and walked off.
“Bethesda Hyatt Bar – NOW!” she had written.
It's always weird to go into a dark bar in the middle of the day, but I once heard they sell more drinks that way. After knocking over one chair and tripping on curled-up electrical cord, I groped my way to Sarah's table and sat. She eyed me over the rim of the giant martini glass at her lips.
“It's only lime water,” she explained. “I just like the look of a martini. Don't start, Refo.”
I hadn't started anything.
“So what is it? The Party? Or the sex change? Don't start, Refo.” She took another pull on her pseudo-martini. “There wasn't a big response for your farewell, so we combined it with another party. Did you get your engraved plaque?” She paused for a heartbeat. “Don't start, Refo. This isn't about you.” She signaled the waitress and asked for another.
“Happy hour prices in five minutes, hon.” The waitress was trying to be helpful.
“Hon is thirsty now,” Sarah replied. “And leave out the olives this time.”
“Olives? In lime water?” I asked.
“Lime water?” the waitress said. “I thought it was a Taipei Typhoon.”
“Olives? In Taipei?” I queried.
“Shut up, Refo,” to me; and “Just bring the drink, please,” Sarah said to the waitress without a hint of politeness. “So I'm thinkin' of Sam – for my new name. Trying to masculinize Sarah was yucky. Then I can just stay with S. Felsen for professional purposes.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because Sarah isn't a great name for a man. Literally, it means princess.”
“No, I mean the sex change. Why do it, Sarah?”
The waitress's gasp was barely audible, as she put down two Taipei Typhoons. “Here ya go, hon,” she said to me. She offered Sarah's drink with a tight smile and left. I picked the waterlogged paper umbrella out of my drink, sipped, and then gasped hoping my throat was ok.
“Because being a straight woman is getting me nowhere … and being a lesbian was … I had to eat out a lot of unattractive women.”
“But you have Woodie and Carter and Lucien ...”
“Had. Woodie left terrified he was turning gay. I don't know why he would think that. Maybe because he was begging to get fucked all the time? You think? He was even starting to walk funny.” She shook her head in disgust. “And Carter … so cute, isn't he? I get moist thinking about him … he was only there to get on, in, and under Lucien.” She drank down half the Typhoon, wheezing a little. “And Lucien … crazier than a cuckoo clock. He decides at long last he's in love with Carter and deals me out of the game.”
“He's always been in love with Carter. He just has a problem admitting it.”
“Well, he was a pretty convincing straight guy for a while there. Knew just what to do.” The protective layers fell away. “I'm desperate, Refo. I don't know what to do. And quit looking at my boobs every time I say something.” She giggled a little. I couldn't tell if she liked my looking at her boobs or liked the Typhoons.
“They're nice boobs, Sarah.”
“You want to try marrying me again? I could cede half of you to Frank.” She wasn't serious, just terribly pathetic.
“So you're not really going to do it?”
“I'm basically a coward.” She looked down, checking herself out. “They are nice boobs, aren't they?”
“And being a lesbian isn't gonna work either? Maybe try something more basic. Step One. That Jewish singles group?”
She sighed, “There's a reason those men are single.”
“So you've tried it already ...” I watched her nod yes. “So stop trying. Just coast for a while. Join a gym. Take cooking lessons.”
“Gyms and cooking schools are full of gay guys. I've tried.”
“What about going after specific guys? What about Dr. Bloch?”
“Are you serious? He's married.”
“No, he isn't.”
“You're kidding! He's not? Who is that woman he's always with?”
“His former secretary. She's a widow. Won't marry him. Just likes the dates and whatever else they get up to when no one's around.”
“How do you know this?” Sarah was alert and challenging, even if her words were slurred.
“She told me. Once I joked that he never got my name right and she said, 'At least with you he gets the first letter right.' And right then he called her Muriel. Her name is Nancy.”
“See, Refo. See how good it is to talk to you. You're so fucked up.” She finished her drink. “Want another one? It's happy hour or something.” Saying no got me a wet kiss goodbye that could have been an invitation home if I wanted it to be. She paused to test my reaction. “Last chance … they're comin' off ...” She laughed when I looked at her boobs again. I left feeling uneasy about Sarah or Sam.
Two hours later I got to the barn feeling refreshed by having the windows down for the last fifteen miles of the drive, physically and spiritually back to normal. At least that was what I thought. Jawan changed that idea in a hurry.
“Wow! What have you been drinking?
“Taipei Typhoons … just one.”
“I think one was enough,” he laughed. At least I had put him in a jolly mood. “I made a drawing for Frank.”
“What?”
“He thinks a permanent set up for the weights would be good. So I drew up a diagram of racks that would be handy for workouts and storage.”
“Make the room a real gym.” Not a bad idea, I decided, looking at his sketch.
“And we could use blowups of you and Monster as inspiration.” I used the big tv screen to show him the shots I had taken of the two of them working out.
“Refo, you can't use those. We're in our underwear and … blown up like this … you can see everything.”
“Everything looks pretty good to me, Jawan. What's wrong with showing it? It's not THAT explicit. Just outlines … Which reminds me … I still have some stuff hanging on the wall in Washington ...”
Jawan stared at the screen. “Monster's almost perfect, isn't he? There's a body building contest in DC. He'd take first, for sure. Look at his back … Awesome ...” I switched to another shot of Monster taken from the side. “Look at that … Even relaxed ...” I manipulated the saturation and contrast making Monster's tiger-striped underwear almost disappear. Jawan gasped quietly. “Jeez ...”
“Look through the shots,” I suggested and showed Jawan how to advance picture gallery. “Pick out some good ones for the wall. I'm gonna take a little nap ...”
The next thing I knew I felt Frank slipping into bed with me. The room was dark and Frank was naked. “My God, what time is it?”
“Bed time,” Frank said.
“Dinner? What about dinner?”
“I had left-overs with Jawan and Merle, while you slept it off.”
“One drink ...I just had one!”
Frank chuckled and kissed me. “A little mouth wash wouldn't hurt.”
I dashed to the bathroom, took a piss, washed my dick off, and swished out my mouth. I guess I was presentable. I returned to the bedroom.
“Stand there a minute, in the moonlight,” Frank said as I passed the window.
“Why? What are you doing?”
“I'm jacking off looking at you. You look so hot, Reef.”
“Look hot. Feel cold,” I said jumping back into the warmth of the bed. Merle, sensing what was up, jumped down.
Frank's hands were on me, roaming. “Jawan was looking at your porn when I got home.”
“It's not porn. Oooohhh!” He sucked my cock into his mouth slowly and then came up for air.
“It sure got Jawan hard. I think I caught him beating off. He was all flustered when I came in. I could see the bulge in his jeans.” Frank chuckled and went back to sucking my cock.
“Oh, Frankie,” I sighed.
“I want to fuck you,” he whispered.
“Baby,” I answered. I pulled him into a kiss and wrapped my legs around his waist. It was an invitation. I tensed as he entered me and then melted as he slow-stroked me. His pace was regular and his tempo constant. It felt like he was filling my whole body. Every bit of my skin wanted him. And he has this way of enveloping me, sucking me into him, infusing me. Drives me insane. I kissed him hungrily, biting his lip, wanting him to bite me back. The kisses became bruising, making our lips tender and swollen and the fuck continued, slow and relentless. I heard sounds of pleasure. I don't know who made them.
“So good,” I told him. I couldn't say any more.
His pace quickened slightly, incrementally, until he was slamming into me. I came. He came. I love yous were whispered breathlessly. Our kisses were softer, gentler. He stayed in me as his cock shrank. I wanted him to stay in me all night, but eventually he popped out. I felt an emptiness in me. I want you back in me, I thought.
I think he heard my need because he started to apologize for going soft. I wouldn't let him. I shut him up with kisses. I don't know when I fell asleep, but it felt like I kissed him all night. I woke with that electric feeling of youth that good sex gives you, like every bit of my body was perfectly satisfied. Frank was still asleep. “I love you,” I whispered, trying not to wake him. Reflexively, he hugged me. I'm pretty sure he didn't wake up. I relaxed and dozed another few minutes and then eased my way out of bed.
Happier than I had ever felt in my life, I started making breakfast. I never heard him coming, just felt his arms go around me. He nuzzled my neck, pricking me with his overnight growth of beard. It felt exactly right. “Are you crying?” he asked.
“No, of course not. It's the onions for the omelet.” I relaxed in his arms and felt him pressing against my butt. “Go see if Jawan is up or you'll have to fuck me on the kitchen floor.”
Merle seemed to like the kitchen floor idea, his wagging tail thumped against a chair as he watched us.
Rory,
Thanks for the update. The two of them are a perfect couple.
Thanks for the update. The two of them are a perfect couple.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Sixty-Two
It was Merle's barking that alerted me before I had any idea what was happening. The sound kept getting louder and louder as Merle paced from window to window trying to see what was upsetting his world.
Finally I saw it. A helicopter that was much smaller than the noise it was making landed in the open field between the house and the hill where I had planted the apple trees. It must be some kind of emergency, I decided. I left the barn and watched as the rotors quieted and the engine shut down. Linda Krol emerged first and waved to me. She was followed by a man I assumed was the pilot.
“I didn't feel up to a long drive,” she said as a greeting. “Hope you don't mind. This is Marlon Ames, who flies that thing.”
“Welcome,” I said to both of them. “This is Merle.” The dog had worked his way out of a sprung door in a part of the barn we didn't use and was investigating the visitors.
“Unusual looking dog; but who am I to talk,” Linda commented as Marlon scratched behind Merle's ear. Her lightheartedness seemed forced.
Two years ago I would have been working out in my head ways to get Marlon out of his clothes, but times change. I found myself half-listening to Linda and half-comparing Marlon to Frank, with Frank coming out way ahead. With me mostly just nodding, Linda said I could drive her to Mike and Butch's place while Marlon stayed with the helo. If that was ok, she was polite enough to add. Of course, it was ok. I liked those checks that kept arriving from Krol Farms.
“What's the point of being a billionaire, if I can't have a little fun,” she said as we drove to see Butch. “The helicopter is an extravagance, I suppose, but I just didn't feel like a long car ride.” Twice she had complained about the drive she didn't make from Delaware.
“Well, it's only about five miles to Butch's place. I hope that's ok. I don't think you could have landed there without blowing the chickens into West Virginia.” That got a laugh and a smile from Linda. “Should I call Butch to tell him we're on the way?”
“He knows,” Linda said cryptically.
Butch greeted us upon arrival and told me ... no, he pretty much ordered me to have a seat while he and Linda had a look at the chickens. They were gone a while, longer than it would have taken to check out a few birds, I thought. It wasn't an especially cold day for February, but they were in the bracing air longer than I would have expected.
When they returned, Linda immediately asked to return to the barn for her helo ride home. “Refo, could you turn up the heat, please?” she requested once we were on our way. “I'm about to freeze here.”
In the few minutes it took to drive back to the barn Linda thanked me profusely for my help in arranging her visit to Butch. “You're right about him, Refo. He's changed and he's happy. And so handsome. He even gave me a hug before we left. I'm glad for that – just sorry I didn't get to meet Mike.”
“You'll like Mike better every time you see him. He grows on you.”
“I don't think I'll get to meet him, but who knows? It could happen suppose.”
Marlon and Merle were out hiking the property. I honked the horn and waved to them as we parked the Jeep. Merle came racing, leaving Marlon alone to walk briskly to the helo and began pre-flighting it. Linda waited inside, still cold but refusing my offer of a hot drink. We made small talk about photography until Marlon signaled he was ready.
“You're a sweet boy, Refo,” Linda said in farewell.
“I'm thirty, Linda. Not a boy any more.” She gave me a quick hug in reply and walked to the helo. Merle's barking tapered off as we watched it leave.
“Wow. What was that about?” Jawan asked when he came in from his morning run. “A helicopter?” I explained and got an “awesome” back. He changed and came into the kitchen. He was a little antsy, like he wanted to say something.
“Spill,” I demanded.
“I'm bored.”
“Good. You should be, sitting around here most days.”
“What are you doing today, Refo?” He didn't wait for an answer. “I need some warmer clothes. Can't be wearing your stuff all the time.”
“We could go to a store. There's one in Harrisonburg. There's an Urban Outfitters in Charlotesville.”
“That's kinda basic isn't it?” Jawan paced.
“Well, there's Barney's in Chevy Chase, if you want to go into Washington.”
That idea annoyed him. “I was hoping Monster would come today, but I don't think he will. We were going to work out ...” Ah-ha: Monster! The real reason for his impatience.
“You know what?” I proposed. “We should have a little party. A Valentine's party.” Jawan looked skeptical so I continued before he could interrupt. “Frank and I barely had a Christmas at all and the weather is getting gruesome and we need a little Christmas in February. Right? So dinner, that's what we'll do, dinner ... I'm gonna ask Jody and Charlie, and Butch and Mike, and … do you want to ask Monster? Eight of us. Ham is sort of red. Perfect for Valentine's. A few drinks, a few laughs … What do you think?”
“You want ME to ask Monster? That would be … like a date!” I saw panic in his eyes.
“Alright, I'll ask him.”
“But with all couples, it's like we'd be a couple!” More panic.
“Not a couple … just a pair. The table holds eight. What's wrong with that?”
“Fuck,” Jawan said in exasperation. He left and soon I heard the clanking of weights as he assembled them in the tack room.
Well, he didn't say no, I thought and started making phone calls. Monster's phone voice was surprisingly sweet. Very masculine, but at the same time sweet and intimate. I liked listening to him and wished I had a reason to talk longer. To my relief, he accepted without hesitation. Monster had been the question mark; I knew the others would accept. To a man, they hated cooking. I went to the tack room to tell Jawan. I opened the door and then quickly closed it again, as quietly as I could.
It was a stunning sight, really, seeing Jawan naked, standing in front of the mirror, jacking off. The vision was burned into my brain. His body taut with the effort. His fierce look of determination as he watched his fist pounding on his engorged cock. His other hand teasing a nipple. His balls bouncing. His ass clenched. His jaw slack with his mouth in an O. He must have been close to coming. Poor guy. I didn't blame him for beating off. I was half way back to the kitchen when I heard his groan of orgasm. Had he noticed me at the door? I hoped not.
I got to the kitchen and Merle nudged me right in the hardon. How did he know I was painfully stiff? “Merle, what do you make of all this?” That got me a goofy look and a slowly wagging tail in reply. I slipped him a dog biscuit and let him out to roam while I wanted for flaccidity to ease the tension in my pants.
I was making a list of party supplies when the phone gonged like an oriental horror movie. Gotta get a new ring tone, I thought. It was from DC, but I didn't recognize the number. “Hello?”
“Refo,” the voice croaked. “You need to come and see me.”
“Who are you?” The voice was distantly familiar, but I couldn't place it.
“Sarah Felsen,” she hissed in a gravelly voice. “Georgetown Hospital. Room 623A.”
“I'll be right there.” She's done it, I thought. If a guy can be emasculated, can a girl be effeminated? What's an effeminated person called? A eunuchess? My mind spun.
“Bring some cinnamon-flavored Altoids,” the now-sexless voice hissed. “I hate the peppermint kind.”
“I'll try, you poor thing.” At heart I am a compassionate person; at least that's what I tell myself. It sounded as if Sarah disagreed.
“Just bring the fuckin' Altoids, numbnuts!” the closing croak demanded.
“Jawan,” I yelled while twenty feet distant from the tack room door. I peaked in. He was in his underwear doing bench presses. “I'm going to Washington. Want to come with me?”
“I'm good,” he gasped in answer.
So much for the winter clothes, I thought. I put my coat on and walked to the Jeep.
“Hey, neighbor,” a stranger jogging in from the road greeter me.
“Um, hi.” With a heavy coat and hat on I didn't recognize the man I had seen before across the pasture fence.
“I'm Loren Parks,” he said sticking a fist forward.
“Refo Fitzjohn.” We fist-bumped, which saved the trouble of removing our gloves.
“Awesome helicopter!” he said.
“Right … it doesn't happen often … like never. Hope it wasn't a problem.”
“No. I was talking to the pilot. He was out walking your dog, you know? Funny lookin' dog.”
“Yeah, well, it's genetic. Not his fault.” Insulting somebody's dog is not the best way to make friends. He correctly detected that I was a little pissed.
“Oh. Sorry. I didn't mean … it's just …I'm sure he's a nice dog. He hardly ever barks at me.”
“Yeah … what can I do for you? I was just about to go into Washington.”
“The pilot … do you have his phone number by any chance?”
No, but his name is Marlon Ames and he works for Krol Farms in Delaware.”
“Is he single?”
“I don't know. You planning to date him?”
“No. NO!” The guy was flustered by my question. “My sister wants to take flying lessons and he said … “
“Right.” I stared steadily. “Call Krol Farms. They can probably put you in contact with him.”
“Seriously … it's for my sister … I'm not that kind of ...”
I relented. “Ok, I get it. Call the farm. Good to meet you Loren, but I gotta go.”
“Thanks, Reno.”
“Refo,” I corrected him and fired up Jeep. What a douche bag … I accidentally spun the wheels a little in the loose dirt. “Oops, sorry,” I called back to him as I turned onto the road.
I drove a little faster than I normally do. Poor Sarah. She said she wasn't going to. Now the hospital! And alone! I circled the Beltway and took the Clara Barton into town. Parking in Georgetown was a hassle, but it always is. I ended up parking on P Street and cut through the University to get to the confusing collection of buildings they call a hospital. Gift shop sold the right flavor of Altoids. Long corridors. Slow elevators. Half the staff wandering the halls eating something. Finally Room 623A. I saw her. She was apparently asleep. There was a bandaged head surrounded by a voluminous drape that ballooned upward over a framework, none of it touching whatever was left of her butchered body. Impulsively, I drew back the drape. She turned and her dark eyes looked at me through tiny holes in the bandage.
“Sarah, your nipples are much pinker than I expected.” Kind of a lame thing to say, I guess, but with her complexion I kinda figured darker ones. It saved commenting on the fact she still had nipples and they were topping very full breasts.
“Cover me up,” she demanded. “If I could move, I would rip your balls off.”
It was Merle's barking that alerted me before I had any idea what was happening. The sound kept getting louder and louder as Merle paced from window to window trying to see what was upsetting his world.
Finally I saw it. A helicopter that was much smaller than the noise it was making landed in the open field between the house and the hill where I had planted the apple trees. It must be some kind of emergency, I decided. I left the barn and watched as the rotors quieted and the engine shut down. Linda Krol emerged first and waved to me. She was followed by a man I assumed was the pilot.
“I didn't feel up to a long drive,” she said as a greeting. “Hope you don't mind. This is Marlon Ames, who flies that thing.”
“Welcome,” I said to both of them. “This is Merle.” The dog had worked his way out of a sprung door in a part of the barn we didn't use and was investigating the visitors.
“Unusual looking dog; but who am I to talk,” Linda commented as Marlon scratched behind Merle's ear. Her lightheartedness seemed forced.
Two years ago I would have been working out in my head ways to get Marlon out of his clothes, but times change. I found myself half-listening to Linda and half-comparing Marlon to Frank, with Frank coming out way ahead. With me mostly just nodding, Linda said I could drive her to Mike and Butch's place while Marlon stayed with the helo. If that was ok, she was polite enough to add. Of course, it was ok. I liked those checks that kept arriving from Krol Farms.
“What's the point of being a billionaire, if I can't have a little fun,” she said as we drove to see Butch. “The helicopter is an extravagance, I suppose, but I just didn't feel like a long car ride.” Twice she had complained about the drive she didn't make from Delaware.
“Well, it's only about five miles to Butch's place. I hope that's ok. I don't think you could have landed there without blowing the chickens into West Virginia.” That got a laugh and a smile from Linda. “Should I call Butch to tell him we're on the way?”
“He knows,” Linda said cryptically.
Butch greeted us upon arrival and told me ... no, he pretty much ordered me to have a seat while he and Linda had a look at the chickens. They were gone a while, longer than it would have taken to check out a few birds, I thought. It wasn't an especially cold day for February, but they were in the bracing air longer than I would have expected.
When they returned, Linda immediately asked to return to the barn for her helo ride home. “Refo, could you turn up the heat, please?” she requested once we were on our way. “I'm about to freeze here.”
In the few minutes it took to drive back to the barn Linda thanked me profusely for my help in arranging her visit to Butch. “You're right about him, Refo. He's changed and he's happy. And so handsome. He even gave me a hug before we left. I'm glad for that – just sorry I didn't get to meet Mike.”
“You'll like Mike better every time you see him. He grows on you.”
“I don't think I'll get to meet him, but who knows? It could happen suppose.”
Marlon and Merle were out hiking the property. I honked the horn and waved to them as we parked the Jeep. Merle came racing, leaving Marlon alone to walk briskly to the helo and began pre-flighting it. Linda waited inside, still cold but refusing my offer of a hot drink. We made small talk about photography until Marlon signaled he was ready.
“You're a sweet boy, Refo,” Linda said in farewell.
“I'm thirty, Linda. Not a boy any more.” She gave me a quick hug in reply and walked to the helo. Merle's barking tapered off as we watched it leave.
“Wow. What was that about?” Jawan asked when he came in from his morning run. “A helicopter?” I explained and got an “awesome” back. He changed and came into the kitchen. He was a little antsy, like he wanted to say something.
“Spill,” I demanded.
“I'm bored.”
“Good. You should be, sitting around here most days.”
“What are you doing today, Refo?” He didn't wait for an answer. “I need some warmer clothes. Can't be wearing your stuff all the time.”
“We could go to a store. There's one in Harrisonburg. There's an Urban Outfitters in Charlotesville.”
“That's kinda basic isn't it?” Jawan paced.
“Well, there's Barney's in Chevy Chase, if you want to go into Washington.”
That idea annoyed him. “I was hoping Monster would come today, but I don't think he will. We were going to work out ...” Ah-ha: Monster! The real reason for his impatience.
“You know what?” I proposed. “We should have a little party. A Valentine's party.” Jawan looked skeptical so I continued before he could interrupt. “Frank and I barely had a Christmas at all and the weather is getting gruesome and we need a little Christmas in February. Right? So dinner, that's what we'll do, dinner ... I'm gonna ask Jody and Charlie, and Butch and Mike, and … do you want to ask Monster? Eight of us. Ham is sort of red. Perfect for Valentine's. A few drinks, a few laughs … What do you think?”
“You want ME to ask Monster? That would be … like a date!” I saw panic in his eyes.
“Alright, I'll ask him.”
“But with all couples, it's like we'd be a couple!” More panic.
“Not a couple … just a pair. The table holds eight. What's wrong with that?”
“Fuck,” Jawan said in exasperation. He left and soon I heard the clanking of weights as he assembled them in the tack room.
Well, he didn't say no, I thought and started making phone calls. Monster's phone voice was surprisingly sweet. Very masculine, but at the same time sweet and intimate. I liked listening to him and wished I had a reason to talk longer. To my relief, he accepted without hesitation. Monster had been the question mark; I knew the others would accept. To a man, they hated cooking. I went to the tack room to tell Jawan. I opened the door and then quickly closed it again, as quietly as I could.
It was a stunning sight, really, seeing Jawan naked, standing in front of the mirror, jacking off. The vision was burned into my brain. His body taut with the effort. His fierce look of determination as he watched his fist pounding on his engorged cock. His other hand teasing a nipple. His balls bouncing. His ass clenched. His jaw slack with his mouth in an O. He must have been close to coming. Poor guy. I didn't blame him for beating off. I was half way back to the kitchen when I heard his groan of orgasm. Had he noticed me at the door? I hoped not.
I got to the kitchen and Merle nudged me right in the hardon. How did he know I was painfully stiff? “Merle, what do you make of all this?” That got me a goofy look and a slowly wagging tail in reply. I slipped him a dog biscuit and let him out to roam while I wanted for flaccidity to ease the tension in my pants.
I was making a list of party supplies when the phone gonged like an oriental horror movie. Gotta get a new ring tone, I thought. It was from DC, but I didn't recognize the number. “Hello?”
“Refo,” the voice croaked. “You need to come and see me.”
“Who are you?” The voice was distantly familiar, but I couldn't place it.
“Sarah Felsen,” she hissed in a gravelly voice. “Georgetown Hospital. Room 623A.”
“I'll be right there.” She's done it, I thought. If a guy can be emasculated, can a girl be effeminated? What's an effeminated person called? A eunuchess? My mind spun.
“Bring some cinnamon-flavored Altoids,” the now-sexless voice hissed. “I hate the peppermint kind.”
“I'll try, you poor thing.” At heart I am a compassionate person; at least that's what I tell myself. It sounded as if Sarah disagreed.
“Just bring the fuckin' Altoids, numbnuts!” the closing croak demanded.
“Jawan,” I yelled while twenty feet distant from the tack room door. I peaked in. He was in his underwear doing bench presses. “I'm going to Washington. Want to come with me?”
“I'm good,” he gasped in answer.
So much for the winter clothes, I thought. I put my coat on and walked to the Jeep.
“Hey, neighbor,” a stranger jogging in from the road greeter me.
“Um, hi.” With a heavy coat and hat on I didn't recognize the man I had seen before across the pasture fence.
“I'm Loren Parks,” he said sticking a fist forward.
“Refo Fitzjohn.” We fist-bumped, which saved the trouble of removing our gloves.
“Awesome helicopter!” he said.
“Right … it doesn't happen often … like never. Hope it wasn't a problem.”
“No. I was talking to the pilot. He was out walking your dog, you know? Funny lookin' dog.”
“Yeah, well, it's genetic. Not his fault.” Insulting somebody's dog is not the best way to make friends. He correctly detected that I was a little pissed.
“Oh. Sorry. I didn't mean … it's just …I'm sure he's a nice dog. He hardly ever barks at me.”
“Yeah … what can I do for you? I was just about to go into Washington.”
“The pilot … do you have his phone number by any chance?”
No, but his name is Marlon Ames and he works for Krol Farms in Delaware.”
“Is he single?”
“I don't know. You planning to date him?”
“No. NO!” The guy was flustered by my question. “My sister wants to take flying lessons and he said … “
“Right.” I stared steadily. “Call Krol Farms. They can probably put you in contact with him.”
“Seriously … it's for my sister … I'm not that kind of ...”
I relented. “Ok, I get it. Call the farm. Good to meet you Loren, but I gotta go.”
“Thanks, Reno.”
“Refo,” I corrected him and fired up Jeep. What a douche bag … I accidentally spun the wheels a little in the loose dirt. “Oops, sorry,” I called back to him as I turned onto the road.
I drove a little faster than I normally do. Poor Sarah. She said she wasn't going to. Now the hospital! And alone! I circled the Beltway and took the Clara Barton into town. Parking in Georgetown was a hassle, but it always is. I ended up parking on P Street and cut through the University to get to the confusing collection of buildings they call a hospital. Gift shop sold the right flavor of Altoids. Long corridors. Slow elevators. Half the staff wandering the halls eating something. Finally Room 623A. I saw her. She was apparently asleep. There was a bandaged head surrounded by a voluminous drape that ballooned upward over a framework, none of it touching whatever was left of her butchered body. Impulsively, I drew back the drape. She turned and her dark eyes looked at me through tiny holes in the bandage.
“Sarah, your nipples are much pinker than I expected.” Kind of a lame thing to say, I guess, but with her complexion I kinda figured darker ones. It saved commenting on the fact she still had nipples and they were topping very full breasts.
“Cover me up,” she demanded. “If I could move, I would rip your balls off.”
FastOne
On the Prowl
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Another interesting curious installment... Now I'm really wondering what's going on with Sarah Felson. Interesting threads winding around with the rest of the characters as well.
I probably wouldn't have been able to turn around and leave after walking in on Jawan
Refo really has settled down a little! 
I probably wouldn't have been able to turn around and leave after walking in on Jawan
Refo really has settled down a little!
You do keep us wanting to know MORE, Rory.
Jawan was kind of expected - a very shy guy, for all his bravado as a personal trainer at the gym - way back when.
And, Sarah - what the fuck is up with that woman?
Jawan was kind of expected - a very shy guy, for all his bravado as a personal trainer at the gym - way back when.
And, Sarah - what the fuck is up with that woman?
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Sorry for the gap. Another chapter to follow soon. My life has been upside down for a couple of weeks. Normalcy not yet, but I can see it from here.
Rory,
Life has been more than a bit hectic for a lot of people.
We understand - and appreciate you letting us know - and all of your efforts and consistent contributions over the years.
Life has been more than a bit hectic for a lot of people.
We understand - and appreciate you letting us know - and all of your efforts and consistent contributions over the years.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Sixty-Three
I replaced the drape and smoothed a few wrinkles in the cloth I had caused by rashly exposing Sarah. The mummy-like head continued to stare at me. She hissed again.
“Did you bring the Altoids?”
“Yes, two packs. So you didn't get the operation?”
“Of course I got the operation. Several. A nose job, eye tightening, lip augmentation, chin reduction, labiaplasty ...”
“But not the BIG ONE? The ONE we talked about?”
“Of course not, doofus.” I think that's what she called me. Her speech was indistinct.
“Labiaplasty … that's Angelina Jolie lips?”
“No. It's a tightening in the action department … DOWN THERE … I have no idea if Angela has had that or not. Give me two Altoids in the mouth hole.”
“Are you supposed to be doing all this talking?”
“What else have I got to do?” She showed me her hands, also bandaged with the fingers individually held in some kind of traction. Basically, she looked like a spider. “Knitting is out.” She began coughing and after a bit quieted into intermittent sucking sounds. “Tell me about your life,” she wheezed.
“Well, I was born in Kentucky, but we moved to Cincinnati when I was ...”
“No. Your current life.”
“I'm in love with Frank. Everything else spins off of that.” I told her about my photography and my friends. About how country life was more sophisticated than I had expected. When I got to the part about Jawan moving in I think she dozed off. A nurse came in and changed the bottles and bags that were hooked up to Sarah.
“Another one, huh?” the nurse asked. “With all her boyfriends, I don't know why she thought she needed plastic surgery.”
“I'm just a friend. Not a boyfriend.”
“She's going to need you. When we take her off the good stuff, she's going to be in a lot of pain. At least of week of severe pain that goes away very slowly. If the patients only knew, they'd never do it. And yet, they come back for more. I don't get it.” While she adjusted the window shades, I gave her the once over, spotting several opportunities for surgical improvement here and there on her body.
“You've never been tempted yourself?” I asked.
“Do I look like I need it?” She puffed up like a proud rooster, obviously expecting a no answer and was piqued when I said nothing. “Well, your kind doesn't appreciate a real woman.”
“My kind?”
“Oh, shut up, Refo,” Sarah groaned and punched a thumb plunger attached to a drip several times.
“Easy on that, hon,” the nurse cautioned. “You're coming off of it in three more days.”
“That's what she thinks,” Sarah confided after the nurse left. “Refo, pop a couple more Altoids in me and then you can go … Ah, thanks.”
I drove over to the old place to clean out some more of my accumulation of stuff. The Jeep's cargo capacity was going to make the process a lot faster than the Mazda would have done.
“Refo,” Stan greeted me. “Are you moving out? I hate charging you for not living here.”
“Think of it as a furniture storage fee, Stan. As soon as Frank gets some more of the barn done, I'll clean all this stuff out. How have you been?”
“You really want to know?” He proceeded anyway. “Euie is getting to be a pain in the ass and not the way you think. Maybe I'm not cut out to be gay after all. I mean the sex is good, great, in fact; but … I don't have much fashion sense, or interest in it either … and Euie is a ...”
“Prom queen?” I suggested.
“Well, kind of. I shouldn't say this, but … It's getting tedious, pretending to be interested in all that stuff.”
“What does he think?”
“He's spending more time in Delaware.”
“Yeah, I see, Stan. Well, things end, you know. Will the break up be painful?”
“I'll miss the sex ...”
“You could find somebody new.”
“I'm not so good at that, Reef.” Stan looked pitiful. I didn't know how to help him, although giving him three months rent in advance seemed to help.
When I got back to the barn the winter light was already fading. I noticed Monster's black truck parked under a leafless tree just in time to avoid hitting it. The wind caught the door and slammed it as I entered the kitchen. Like two curious puppies, Monster and Jawan showed up to see who it was.
“Just me,” I told them. “I've got a bunch of stuff I brought back from DC.”
“We can help you,” Jawan offered.
“You're in your underwear,” I pointed out.
“Nobody's gonna see and it's not that cold,” Monster countered.
“It is that cold,” I began, but they were already out the door and moments later back again hauling a bunch of my clothes. “In the bedroom,” I directed. They dropped the clothes on the bed and returned to the tack room. I hung up the clothes and joined them.
“Monster brought some hand weights, Refo,” Jawan pointed out the new additions to his gym equipment.
“My place replaced them with a new kind with automatic weight selection,” Monster explained, apologizing for their obsolescence.
“It's all good. They work fine,” Jawan added.
“Ok, if I take some pictures?” I asked.
“Suits me. In fact, I think I work harder when your watching,” Monster said. “The camera is like a challenge.”
I watched and clicked as they went through a series of different routines. They murmured quietly to each other as the routine progressed. Suggestions, comments, questions, all in some abbreviated weightlifter's shorthand. There were occasional touches and glances that might have been completely professional but also built a very personal relationship of encouragement and reinforcement. Maybe it's true that photographers think they see what they're looking for, but I saw much more than two guys working out. It was a partenship.
I became suddenly aware of Frank's presence in the room; I was so wrapped up in my camera work that hadn't noticed his arrival. The time must have been much later than I thought. Seeing Frank made me smile and he smiled back. I came to my senses.
“Dinner! It's getting late.”
“Oh, ok, I better go,” Monster said.
“Why don't you stay?” I suggested.
“I'm already coming tomorrow for your Valentine's dinner,” he protested.
“Stay anyway,” Frank said. “I brought ribs from that place in Purcellville.”
I added some baked beans and potato salad and the four of us sat down to eat. I started by telling them about my visit to Sarah Felsen and made a gentle, gay-themed joke at her expense.
“Refo, could you take it easy,” Jawan requested with an apology in his voice. “Monster's straight.”
Monster's jaw dropped open and he turned to Jawan. “No, I'm not.” Confusion reigned. “Why would you think that?”
“But … the things you said about Ox … you denied you were his lover … it sure sounded like ...”
“I like guys,” Monster affirmed. “Veryt much.” He hesitated only briefly. “One in particular.” He gently put his huge hand on Jawan's cheek, leaned over and kissed him. It was a tender kiss, long enough to be a declaration, short enough not to be an embarrassment. It was followed by a second kiss, a bit briefer. “You need a shave,” he said beaming with pleasure.
Jawan turned beet red and stared down at his plate. “One in particular,” he echoed softly.
“Yes,” Monster replied. “You,” he added in case his meaning wasn't self-evident.
Jawan was speechless. He picked up a rib, bit off some meat and choked on it.
“Alright! Well! That clears up any mystery. More potatoes anyone?” I tried to fill in the silence.
“I feel so stupid,” Jawan said to the room at large.
“Don't …,” Monster injected.
“If anybody's stupid, it's me for being a bad host,” Frank said. “We need a drink to honor our guest. Beer? Wine?”
“Got any 'shine? I feel like I'm the idiot,” Monster said.
“I do,” Frank said.
“You do?” I was surprised. I had never seen Frank drink anything hard before. He reached up to the top shelf of a cabinet and took down a jar of clear liquid.”
“I thought that was vinegar!”
“Refo, what would I be doin' with vinegar.” Frank chuckled.
I turned to see Monster and Jawan's reaction, but they were kissing again. I turned back to Frank. “Well, you could make salad dressing. Or pickles. Or ...”
“The day I make a pickle will never come,” Frank laughed setting four small glasses on the table. “Now … we're all having some right?” He poured generous measures into four glasses. A friend of Jody's makes this stuff for a select clientele.”
I thought I would need a new throat after putting the first glass down in one. Frank immediately poured another for me. “It's ok to sip, Refo. This isn't a John Wayne Western.”
Monster chuckled out loud and Jawan smiled getting over his sheepishness.
“Are you two holding hands under the table?” I asked when I got my voice back.
“No,” said Jawan. “Yes,” said Monster. He pulled their hands up into view. “Yes,” Jawan amended.
“Here's to two people, each one in particular,” Frank toasted and we all sipped.
Monster, it's getting late. Why don't you plan to spend the night?” I invited. Jawan gave an affirming nod. But Monster declined.
“I'm a bear in the morning and I need to be at the pig farm early. What about tomorrow night? I could stay then. If you want ...” The last part was directed to Jawan.
Three heads nodded approval.
After Monster left, Jawan was bubbling and helped me with the cleanup. He was humming something with contrapuntal breaks and inserting occasional dance steps as he dried dishes and put them away.
Want to talk?” I asked. He looked as if he'd explode if he didn't.
“I can't believe it. That Mo would ...”
“Mo being short for Monster?” I teased.
“Mo being short for Maurice. That's his real name. He doesn't actually like being called Monster.” Jawan reached high to put Frank's 'shine jar away. “Ox started calling him Monster in high school and it stuck.” He stopped and looked at me grinning. “He kissed me again out by the truck, Refo. He held me and kissed me.”
“Hugging and kissing is what people do who ...”
“Not with me. Never. Not unless it was leading up to sex. Mo just held me and kissed me and said he was looking forward to tomorrow. He never even grabbed my ass or anything.”
“He's a gentleman who likes 'you in particular', as he put it.”
“The first one I've even known.” Jawan quickly realized that implied some criticism of me. “I mean, he's the first one who … who ...”
“I know what you mean. No explanation required.” Impulsively Jawan gave me a friendly kiss.
“I'm so happy. I want to kiss everybody.”
“I don't think Frank will mind if you do.” I laughed.
“Frank won't mind what?” Frank asked as he came into the kitchen.
“Getting a kiss from Jawan. He's passing them around,” I explained.
Jawan, however, didn't kiss Frank. Not right away. “You two have been so good to me. I don't know how to thank you, I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't ...”
“We like you and you needed help,” Frank said.
“You would do the same,” I added.
We both got a quick hug but no kiss before Jawan left the room unable to speak.
“No kiss,” Frank noted.
“Come here,” I answered. While we kissed my hands strayed to his ass. Frank has the nicest, most squeezable ass I've ever known. I can't keep my hands off him whenever we get the chance. Plus there's a bonus. It turns him on; he loves getting his ass squeezed. A huge bonus. I could feel the beginnings of his erection at once. We were at that point in our lives together when we knew the sex would be great. We didn't have to rush anything.
“Want another glass?” he invited. We sipped and talked and I held his hand some and kissed it. So gentle and slow. A few words of love, a few more touches, then we went to bed. The sex was something we both needed. It wasn't so gentle, it was hard and pounding and loving at the same time. Afterward, the exhaustion was part of the bliss.
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- - - Updated - - -
A holiday weekend deserves two chapters.
I replaced the drape and smoothed a few wrinkles in the cloth I had caused by rashly exposing Sarah. The mummy-like head continued to stare at me. She hissed again.
“Did you bring the Altoids?”
“Yes, two packs. So you didn't get the operation?”
“Of course I got the operation. Several. A nose job, eye tightening, lip augmentation, chin reduction, labiaplasty ...”
“But not the BIG ONE? The ONE we talked about?”
“Of course not, doofus.” I think that's what she called me. Her speech was indistinct.
“Labiaplasty … that's Angelina Jolie lips?”
“No. It's a tightening in the action department … DOWN THERE … I have no idea if Angela has had that or not. Give me two Altoids in the mouth hole.”
“Are you supposed to be doing all this talking?”
“What else have I got to do?” She showed me her hands, also bandaged with the fingers individually held in some kind of traction. Basically, she looked like a spider. “Knitting is out.” She began coughing and after a bit quieted into intermittent sucking sounds. “Tell me about your life,” she wheezed.
“Well, I was born in Kentucky, but we moved to Cincinnati when I was ...”
“No. Your current life.”
“I'm in love with Frank. Everything else spins off of that.” I told her about my photography and my friends. About how country life was more sophisticated than I had expected. When I got to the part about Jawan moving in I think she dozed off. A nurse came in and changed the bottles and bags that were hooked up to Sarah.
“Another one, huh?” the nurse asked. “With all her boyfriends, I don't know why she thought she needed plastic surgery.”
“I'm just a friend. Not a boyfriend.”
“She's going to need you. When we take her off the good stuff, she's going to be in a lot of pain. At least of week of severe pain that goes away very slowly. If the patients only knew, they'd never do it. And yet, they come back for more. I don't get it.” While she adjusted the window shades, I gave her the once over, spotting several opportunities for surgical improvement here and there on her body.
“You've never been tempted yourself?” I asked.
“Do I look like I need it?” She puffed up like a proud rooster, obviously expecting a no answer and was piqued when I said nothing. “Well, your kind doesn't appreciate a real woman.”
“My kind?”
“Oh, shut up, Refo,” Sarah groaned and punched a thumb plunger attached to a drip several times.
“Easy on that, hon,” the nurse cautioned. “You're coming off of it in three more days.”
“That's what she thinks,” Sarah confided after the nurse left. “Refo, pop a couple more Altoids in me and then you can go … Ah, thanks.”
I drove over to the old place to clean out some more of my accumulation of stuff. The Jeep's cargo capacity was going to make the process a lot faster than the Mazda would have done.
“Refo,” Stan greeted me. “Are you moving out? I hate charging you for not living here.”
“Think of it as a furniture storage fee, Stan. As soon as Frank gets some more of the barn done, I'll clean all this stuff out. How have you been?”
“You really want to know?” He proceeded anyway. “Euie is getting to be a pain in the ass and not the way you think. Maybe I'm not cut out to be gay after all. I mean the sex is good, great, in fact; but … I don't have much fashion sense, or interest in it either … and Euie is a ...”
“Prom queen?” I suggested.
“Well, kind of. I shouldn't say this, but … It's getting tedious, pretending to be interested in all that stuff.”
“What does he think?”
“He's spending more time in Delaware.”
“Yeah, I see, Stan. Well, things end, you know. Will the break up be painful?”
“I'll miss the sex ...”
“You could find somebody new.”
“I'm not so good at that, Reef.” Stan looked pitiful. I didn't know how to help him, although giving him three months rent in advance seemed to help.
When I got back to the barn the winter light was already fading. I noticed Monster's black truck parked under a leafless tree just in time to avoid hitting it. The wind caught the door and slammed it as I entered the kitchen. Like two curious puppies, Monster and Jawan showed up to see who it was.
“Just me,” I told them. “I've got a bunch of stuff I brought back from DC.”
“We can help you,” Jawan offered.
“You're in your underwear,” I pointed out.
“Nobody's gonna see and it's not that cold,” Monster countered.
“It is that cold,” I began, but they were already out the door and moments later back again hauling a bunch of my clothes. “In the bedroom,” I directed. They dropped the clothes on the bed and returned to the tack room. I hung up the clothes and joined them.
“Monster brought some hand weights, Refo,” Jawan pointed out the new additions to his gym equipment.
“My place replaced them with a new kind with automatic weight selection,” Monster explained, apologizing for their obsolescence.
“It's all good. They work fine,” Jawan added.
“Ok, if I take some pictures?” I asked.
“Suits me. In fact, I think I work harder when your watching,” Monster said. “The camera is like a challenge.”
I watched and clicked as they went through a series of different routines. They murmured quietly to each other as the routine progressed. Suggestions, comments, questions, all in some abbreviated weightlifter's shorthand. There were occasional touches and glances that might have been completely professional but also built a very personal relationship of encouragement and reinforcement. Maybe it's true that photographers think they see what they're looking for, but I saw much more than two guys working out. It was a partenship.
I became suddenly aware of Frank's presence in the room; I was so wrapped up in my camera work that hadn't noticed his arrival. The time must have been much later than I thought. Seeing Frank made me smile and he smiled back. I came to my senses.
“Dinner! It's getting late.”
“Oh, ok, I better go,” Monster said.
“Why don't you stay?” I suggested.
“I'm already coming tomorrow for your Valentine's dinner,” he protested.
“Stay anyway,” Frank said. “I brought ribs from that place in Purcellville.”
I added some baked beans and potato salad and the four of us sat down to eat. I started by telling them about my visit to Sarah Felsen and made a gentle, gay-themed joke at her expense.
“Refo, could you take it easy,” Jawan requested with an apology in his voice. “Monster's straight.”
Monster's jaw dropped open and he turned to Jawan. “No, I'm not.” Confusion reigned. “Why would you think that?”
“But … the things you said about Ox … you denied you were his lover … it sure sounded like ...”
“I like guys,” Monster affirmed. “Veryt much.” He hesitated only briefly. “One in particular.” He gently put his huge hand on Jawan's cheek, leaned over and kissed him. It was a tender kiss, long enough to be a declaration, short enough not to be an embarrassment. It was followed by a second kiss, a bit briefer. “You need a shave,” he said beaming with pleasure.
Jawan turned beet red and stared down at his plate. “One in particular,” he echoed softly.
“Yes,” Monster replied. “You,” he added in case his meaning wasn't self-evident.
Jawan was speechless. He picked up a rib, bit off some meat and choked on it.
“Alright! Well! That clears up any mystery. More potatoes anyone?” I tried to fill in the silence.
“I feel so stupid,” Jawan said to the room at large.
“Don't …,” Monster injected.
“If anybody's stupid, it's me for being a bad host,” Frank said. “We need a drink to honor our guest. Beer? Wine?”
“Got any 'shine? I feel like I'm the idiot,” Monster said.
“I do,” Frank said.
“You do?” I was surprised. I had never seen Frank drink anything hard before. He reached up to the top shelf of a cabinet and took down a jar of clear liquid.”
“I thought that was vinegar!”
“Refo, what would I be doin' with vinegar.” Frank chuckled.
I turned to see Monster and Jawan's reaction, but they were kissing again. I turned back to Frank. “Well, you could make salad dressing. Or pickles. Or ...”
“The day I make a pickle will never come,” Frank laughed setting four small glasses on the table. “Now … we're all having some right?” He poured generous measures into four glasses. A friend of Jody's makes this stuff for a select clientele.”
I thought I would need a new throat after putting the first glass down in one. Frank immediately poured another for me. “It's ok to sip, Refo. This isn't a John Wayne Western.”
Monster chuckled out loud and Jawan smiled getting over his sheepishness.
“Are you two holding hands under the table?” I asked when I got my voice back.
“No,” said Jawan. “Yes,” said Monster. He pulled their hands up into view. “Yes,” Jawan amended.
“Here's to two people, each one in particular,” Frank toasted and we all sipped.
Monster, it's getting late. Why don't you plan to spend the night?” I invited. Jawan gave an affirming nod. But Monster declined.
“I'm a bear in the morning and I need to be at the pig farm early. What about tomorrow night? I could stay then. If you want ...” The last part was directed to Jawan.
Three heads nodded approval.
After Monster left, Jawan was bubbling and helped me with the cleanup. He was humming something with contrapuntal breaks and inserting occasional dance steps as he dried dishes and put them away.
Want to talk?” I asked. He looked as if he'd explode if he didn't.
“I can't believe it. That Mo would ...”
“Mo being short for Monster?” I teased.
“Mo being short for Maurice. That's his real name. He doesn't actually like being called Monster.” Jawan reached high to put Frank's 'shine jar away. “Ox started calling him Monster in high school and it stuck.” He stopped and looked at me grinning. “He kissed me again out by the truck, Refo. He held me and kissed me.”
“Hugging and kissing is what people do who ...”
“Not with me. Never. Not unless it was leading up to sex. Mo just held me and kissed me and said he was looking forward to tomorrow. He never even grabbed my ass or anything.”
“He's a gentleman who likes 'you in particular', as he put it.”
“The first one I've even known.” Jawan quickly realized that implied some criticism of me. “I mean, he's the first one who … who ...”
“I know what you mean. No explanation required.” Impulsively Jawan gave me a friendly kiss.
“I'm so happy. I want to kiss everybody.”
“I don't think Frank will mind if you do.” I laughed.
“Frank won't mind what?” Frank asked as he came into the kitchen.
“Getting a kiss from Jawan. He's passing them around,” I explained.
Jawan, however, didn't kiss Frank. Not right away. “You two have been so good to me. I don't know how to thank you, I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't ...”
“We like you and you needed help,” Frank said.
“You would do the same,” I added.
We both got a quick hug but no kiss before Jawan left the room unable to speak.
“No kiss,” Frank noted.
“Come here,” I answered. While we kissed my hands strayed to his ass. Frank has the nicest, most squeezable ass I've ever known. I can't keep my hands off him whenever we get the chance. Plus there's a bonus. It turns him on; he loves getting his ass squeezed. A huge bonus. I could feel the beginnings of his erection at once. We were at that point in our lives together when we knew the sex would be great. We didn't have to rush anything.
“Want another glass?” he invited. We sipped and talked and I held his hand some and kissed it. So gentle and slow. A few words of love, a few more touches, then we went to bed. The sex was something we both needed. It wasn't so gentle, it was hard and pounding and loving at the same time. Afterward, the exhaustion was part of the bliss.
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A holiday weekend deserves two chapters.
And a great second installment it was, Rory.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Sixty-Four
“Refo, what are you doing?”
“I'm cutting the labels out of this shirt. They itch. No, they hurt. My neck has become exquisitely sensitive to them.”
“Like your dick?” Frank smiled.
I ignored him. He wasn't complaining; I was certain he liked getting fucked last night. “Have you ever read the laundry instructions on these things? I'm washing it in hot water and rinsing in cold. If the shirtmakers can't figure that out ...”
“What's got you fussin' this morning?” Frank mussed my hair as he sat down.
“I should be cooking for the dinner tonight; but I don't even know what to make … I don't know what everybody likes … “
“Everybody will like whatever you make, Reef. And if they don't they will have the good sense to shut up about it.”
“Plus it's a gray day ...” I reluctantly look out the window for confirmation.
“That's February for you.” Frank sipped his coffee, giving me no sympathy. “Make one of those pork dishes you put in the pig ads … By the way, did I tell you I think the 'lady of the house' where we're working is coming on to Mike?”
“NO! Really?” He got my attention.
“Yep. She's taken to hanging around him and leaving lots of buttons unbuttoned.”
“Why isn't she hangin' around you? You'd be my first choice.”
“Thanks, but I explained to her about you.”
“Oh my God, what did you tell her about me? The idea of marrying Sarah Felsen still haunts my dreams. Now your pimping me out to your customers?” I had over-reacted, but I was shocked.
“I told her I love you.”
“Oh.” Frank took my hand and kissed my fingers. It was a small gesture, but he knew I liked it. “You know me pretty well,” I sighed.
“I don't. You're full of surprises.”
“Oops, am I interrupting?” Jawan asked.
“If we have our clothes on, it's always ok,” I told him. He stared at us.
“I want to be that comfortable with somebody, to make love with my clothes on,” was his wistful comment as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “I'd also like to learn how to make coffee.”
“There you go, Refo. Jawan can be your sous-chef for the day.” Frank rose and headed for the door with a sweet roll and a coffee mug in his hand.
“Sooo what?” Jawan asked me when we were alone.
“It means you're going to help me with the shopping and the cooking.”
I glanced out the window at the dull western sky, feeling crushed by the heavy dark clouds coming in over the mountains. The sight was enervating; like Superman, I get my power from the sun. Back to the menu, I told myself. A pork roast with fruit dressing was my latest pork ad, so that was going to be dinner. Apricots, looking like little suns, instead of dark, gloomy prunes, I decided. At the produce section of Martin's in Harrisonburg, I bagged up some vegetables and wondered about dessert.
“Doesn't that guy look like Mo?” Jawan intruded on my thoughts with a comment about the supermarket's hot-looking bag boy who picked that exact moment to look up, catching me checking him out.
“No, not in the least.”
“Yes, he does,” Jawan insisted. “Look at his arms, and the way his shirt pulls across his chest. The narrow waist ...” The bag boy was getting nervous under Jawan's scrutiny.
“Come on … we need a dessert.”
“Ice cream,” Jawan proposed. It would be an easy popular choice. I agreed. We grabbed a couple of quarts and proceeded to the checkout.
“How much weight do you carry doing squats?” Jawan asked the bag boy.
“Huh?” asked the boy genius, looking at Jawan suspiciously.
“When you work out, how much weight do you carry when you're doing squats?” Jawan amplified.
“Oh … I getcha … I don't work out.”
“Really!” Jawan sounded disbelieving. “I was guessing you did. Your upper body is looking great, but … Sorry, I'm a personal trainer and I can't help analysing.”
“I work in my daddy's barn, that's all.” This time boy didn't look up; he just kept packing the food.
“Ok, so when you take a break, put a feed sack on your shoulders and do a few squats … knee flexes, like this.” Jawan demonstrated the correct position and bobbed up and down a few times. “It'll help your legs and strengthen your back. You won't ache as much when you're done. It'll give you a hot butt, too.”
The bag boy looked skeptical but nodded and asked if we wanted him to carry the groceries to the car. I declined, giving him a small tip.
When we got back to the barn, I started the roast. “Super slow cooking,” I told Jawan. “Maximum juicy and flavorful.”
“How do you know?” Jawan admired my culinary expertise.
“I don't. I'm trusting the recipe I copied for the ad.” Jawan's question introduced some doubt in my mind. I like to eat, but I'm no chef. “Man, I hope this works. It all seemed so easy when I invited people.”
“So who's coming exactly?” Jawan asked, shifting to his timid voice.
“Charlie and Jody, who I guess you don't know ... Mike and Butch, you know them, and Monster … uh, I mean Mo, that's all. Charlie and Jody are engaged, by the way.”
It was only two in the afternoon, but Monster … Mo … arrived early. He had an explanation. “We finished work early and I decided - with snow coming and all – I better leave a little early. Mmmm. Smells good,” he added, sniffing the air in the kitchen.
“Snow?”
“Yeah, the forecast for Charlottesville said 'a light dusting' but you know how that works. This close to the mountains it could mean two feet, what with cold air coming from Ohio and humidity coming from Tennessee. Want to go for a hike?” Mo asked Jawan.
“Tennessee,” I muttered to myself, peeling potatoes and watching out the window as the two of them walk westward. If they smiled any more at each other, their faces would break.
At four Charlie and Jody arrived. “You didn't give a time, so we just guessed it would be early, based on the weather forecast,” Charlie explained.
“Yeah, I heard … We're gonna eat around seven. You want a drink?”
“Not now, thanks. If it's ok, we thought we'd go for a walk,” Jody said.
“And no spying, Refo … You never know what we might get up to … like down at the river??? Mr. Nosy ...” Charlie teased. “Did you get any good pictures?” he whispered, pretending that Jody couldn't hear.
“No, I didn't take any; and watch out for Jawan and Mo on your walk. They might be getting up to the same thing,” I cautioned. I watched Charlie and Jody walk away from the barn. They were very comfortable with each other, no hint of the newness of Jawan and Mo's relationship. When Jody gave Charlie a quick kiss on the cheek, it was plainly something they had done many times before. I was surprised to see Charlie take his hand, though. That wasn't like the Charlie I knew. I couldn't help but wonder what they were talking about.
Frank got home next, just as Jawan and Mo got back from their hike. The three of them exchanged pointless remarks about the weather., as they dusted some snowflakes off their coats. “It's already snowing.” “I guess it is.” “Sure enough.” Well, OBVIOUSLY, I wanted to scream. Frank noted my agitation.
“What's wrong?” he asked when we were alone.
“Nothing … just the dinner … I've never made any of this stuff before.”
“You've made boiled potatoes, Refo.”
“But not the sauce.” I watched him get the jar of 'shine down from the top cupboard shelf.
“Oh, we're having sauce tonight, not gravy?” Frank teased. He poured me a drink. “Here's a head start.”
In short order the crowd assembled. Mike and Butch arrived, looking like they had just finished fucking. Charlie and Jody, looking all rosy-cheeked from their walk. Jawan and Mo, newly showered after their post-hike workout. Frank, who somehow always looked good – he couldn't help it. And me. Hot, tired, greasy from handling the roast, and hungry besides. Frank gave me another glass of 'shine.
The first course was kind of a Waldorf salad, light on the apples, because they were so far out of season, and heavy on the bacon because I was so into pork lately.
“So, when are you two ever going to get married,” Frank asked Charlie and his old friend. I choked on my glass of 'shine. Charlie and Jody looked embarrassed by the question.
“Um, should we tell 'em?” Charlie nodded yes. “We already are,” Jody said.
“Last Christmas, when we went to DC for the weekend,” Charlie added.
“You didn't tell us!” I gasped.
“We didn't want to make a big deal out of it,” Jody said. “It was almost a business transaction and we weren't sure … you know … we weren't sure we could really ...”
“We had to do it before New Year's … to get the tax deduction, you know,” Charlie the tax lawyer explained.
“Very business-like,” Butch commented, looking at Mike.
“Well, it started out that way ...” Jody said. “And then we fell in love.”
“We had always been in lust, of course, and maybe I was a little in love,” Charlie added, “but now things are much different.” He looked at Jody for agreement.
“Plus we got the $70,000 tax deduction,” Jody blurted out, getting a laugh from the table. “Which is kind of an embarrassing admission.”
“We all have stuff to be embarrassed about,” Butch said. “I have spent my whole life rejecting my family and now I have to say what a fuckin' mistake that was. AND ...” The air around the table filled with expectation. “I kind of like raising chickens. We're thinking about adding turkeys.”
“I love Butch,” Mike said, turning beet red.
“Mikie, we all knew that,” Charlie said with the warmest smile I had ever seen on his face Plus, he's a porn star,” he added tartly.
“Really?” from Mo. The ensuing story of Butch and Mike's porn career inspired Mo to make an admission. “You know, I complain about Ox, but he really helped me and I just kind of used him. I couldn't face living in Delaware with everybody eventually finding out I was gay and he was my way out. He said I could move in. All I had to do was let him suck me off. So I did … for two years. I say we never had sex, and that's almost true if you don't count blow jobs.” He looked around the table for agreement that blow jobs don't count. “So you think they do count ...” Everyone nodded and Mo continued. “He was really into me, but I wasn't feeling that at all. I was just glad to be out of Georgetown, Delaware and what's a blow job or two or five hundred. It was the fuckin' I couldn't handle. There's something intimate about fuckin' and … I just couldn't fuck Ox.. Except I did, a few times ...” Mo's story trailed off.
“Refo, I'm gonna want details later ...” Charlie said.
I went to the kitchen to get the roast and was appalled. “Oh my God, it's a blizzard!” I could barely see a foot into the thickly falling snow outside.
Everybody helped themselves to pork and the sides while Frank poured some Gewurtztraminer. “This stuff is local, so I don't know how good it is,” he said.
“It's excellent,” Jody decided.”Of course after moonshine, anything is.” We settle down to eating quietly.
“If we're making admissions,” Jody said quietly. “I have one. I'm one-eighth black.”
“That's why you're so handsome,” Butch said.
“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” Mo said.
“That's not the bad part. The bad part is I spent most of my life denying it. Trying to pass as white.”
“Very successfully, I'd say,” Charlie chipped in. “Who cares who your great-grandfather was?”
“Well, blacks do,” Jawan explained. “They're good at picking me out and not too good at letting me deny it. And I can't blame them. It's like I'm denying them. So that's why I changed my name from John to Jawan. It sort of admits my background.”
“But I've seen you dance. You suck at it.” I had perhaps had a drink or two too many.
Jawan burst out laughing, excusing me.
“Awesome,” Mike said, staring at Jawan. “I kind of see it now. The lips ...”
“Makes him a good kisser,” Mo said.
“The dick?” Charlie speculated.
“I'm guessing my great-grandfather had a small-sized dick,” Jawan answered.
“You have a perfectly fine dick!” No teasing or joking, Mo was totally serious.
“Now I'm getting embarrassed again.” Jawan blushed furiously and drank down his wine.
“So Jawan made the dessert,” I said to change the subject.
“He means I picked out the flavors of ice cream.”
After the final course, the party broke up. Everybody told me how great the dinner was and I almost believed them. Charlie and Jody were the first out the door. We listened to Jody's truck start up and then stop again. They came back.
“We can't make it up the hill to the road,” Jody said. “It's just a little incline, but the snow is wet and there are drifts. It's gotta be almost three feet deep in some places. Would it be ok if we stay?”
“Refo, what are you doing?”
“I'm cutting the labels out of this shirt. They itch. No, they hurt. My neck has become exquisitely sensitive to them.”
“Like your dick?” Frank smiled.
I ignored him. He wasn't complaining; I was certain he liked getting fucked last night. “Have you ever read the laundry instructions on these things? I'm washing it in hot water and rinsing in cold. If the shirtmakers can't figure that out ...”
“What's got you fussin' this morning?” Frank mussed my hair as he sat down.
“I should be cooking for the dinner tonight; but I don't even know what to make … I don't know what everybody likes … “
“Everybody will like whatever you make, Reef. And if they don't they will have the good sense to shut up about it.”
“Plus it's a gray day ...” I reluctantly look out the window for confirmation.
“That's February for you.” Frank sipped his coffee, giving me no sympathy. “Make one of those pork dishes you put in the pig ads … By the way, did I tell you I think the 'lady of the house' where we're working is coming on to Mike?”
“NO! Really?” He got my attention.
“Yep. She's taken to hanging around him and leaving lots of buttons unbuttoned.”
“Why isn't she hangin' around you? You'd be my first choice.”
“Thanks, but I explained to her about you.”
“Oh my God, what did you tell her about me? The idea of marrying Sarah Felsen still haunts my dreams. Now your pimping me out to your customers?” I had over-reacted, but I was shocked.
“I told her I love you.”
“Oh.” Frank took my hand and kissed my fingers. It was a small gesture, but he knew I liked it. “You know me pretty well,” I sighed.
“I don't. You're full of surprises.”
“Oops, am I interrupting?” Jawan asked.
“If we have our clothes on, it's always ok,” I told him. He stared at us.
“I want to be that comfortable with somebody, to make love with my clothes on,” was his wistful comment as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “I'd also like to learn how to make coffee.”
“There you go, Refo. Jawan can be your sous-chef for the day.” Frank rose and headed for the door with a sweet roll and a coffee mug in his hand.
“Sooo what?” Jawan asked me when we were alone.
“It means you're going to help me with the shopping and the cooking.”
I glanced out the window at the dull western sky, feeling crushed by the heavy dark clouds coming in over the mountains. The sight was enervating; like Superman, I get my power from the sun. Back to the menu, I told myself. A pork roast with fruit dressing was my latest pork ad, so that was going to be dinner. Apricots, looking like little suns, instead of dark, gloomy prunes, I decided. At the produce section of Martin's in Harrisonburg, I bagged up some vegetables and wondered about dessert.
“Doesn't that guy look like Mo?” Jawan intruded on my thoughts with a comment about the supermarket's hot-looking bag boy who picked that exact moment to look up, catching me checking him out.
“No, not in the least.”
“Yes, he does,” Jawan insisted. “Look at his arms, and the way his shirt pulls across his chest. The narrow waist ...” The bag boy was getting nervous under Jawan's scrutiny.
“Come on … we need a dessert.”
“Ice cream,” Jawan proposed. It would be an easy popular choice. I agreed. We grabbed a couple of quarts and proceeded to the checkout.
“How much weight do you carry doing squats?” Jawan asked the bag boy.
“Huh?” asked the boy genius, looking at Jawan suspiciously.
“When you work out, how much weight do you carry when you're doing squats?” Jawan amplified.
“Oh … I getcha … I don't work out.”
“Really!” Jawan sounded disbelieving. “I was guessing you did. Your upper body is looking great, but … Sorry, I'm a personal trainer and I can't help analysing.”
“I work in my daddy's barn, that's all.” This time boy didn't look up; he just kept packing the food.
“Ok, so when you take a break, put a feed sack on your shoulders and do a few squats … knee flexes, like this.” Jawan demonstrated the correct position and bobbed up and down a few times. “It'll help your legs and strengthen your back. You won't ache as much when you're done. It'll give you a hot butt, too.”
The bag boy looked skeptical but nodded and asked if we wanted him to carry the groceries to the car. I declined, giving him a small tip.
When we got back to the barn, I started the roast. “Super slow cooking,” I told Jawan. “Maximum juicy and flavorful.”
“How do you know?” Jawan admired my culinary expertise.
“I don't. I'm trusting the recipe I copied for the ad.” Jawan's question introduced some doubt in my mind. I like to eat, but I'm no chef. “Man, I hope this works. It all seemed so easy when I invited people.”
“So who's coming exactly?” Jawan asked, shifting to his timid voice.
“Charlie and Jody, who I guess you don't know ... Mike and Butch, you know them, and Monster … uh, I mean Mo, that's all. Charlie and Jody are engaged, by the way.”
It was only two in the afternoon, but Monster … Mo … arrived early. He had an explanation. “We finished work early and I decided - with snow coming and all – I better leave a little early. Mmmm. Smells good,” he added, sniffing the air in the kitchen.
“Snow?”
“Yeah, the forecast for Charlottesville said 'a light dusting' but you know how that works. This close to the mountains it could mean two feet, what with cold air coming from Ohio and humidity coming from Tennessee. Want to go for a hike?” Mo asked Jawan.
“Tennessee,” I muttered to myself, peeling potatoes and watching out the window as the two of them walk westward. If they smiled any more at each other, their faces would break.
At four Charlie and Jody arrived. “You didn't give a time, so we just guessed it would be early, based on the weather forecast,” Charlie explained.
“Yeah, I heard … We're gonna eat around seven. You want a drink?”
“Not now, thanks. If it's ok, we thought we'd go for a walk,” Jody said.
“And no spying, Refo … You never know what we might get up to … like down at the river??? Mr. Nosy ...” Charlie teased. “Did you get any good pictures?” he whispered, pretending that Jody couldn't hear.
“No, I didn't take any; and watch out for Jawan and Mo on your walk. They might be getting up to the same thing,” I cautioned. I watched Charlie and Jody walk away from the barn. They were very comfortable with each other, no hint of the newness of Jawan and Mo's relationship. When Jody gave Charlie a quick kiss on the cheek, it was plainly something they had done many times before. I was surprised to see Charlie take his hand, though. That wasn't like the Charlie I knew. I couldn't help but wonder what they were talking about.
Frank got home next, just as Jawan and Mo got back from their hike. The three of them exchanged pointless remarks about the weather., as they dusted some snowflakes off their coats. “It's already snowing.” “I guess it is.” “Sure enough.” Well, OBVIOUSLY, I wanted to scream. Frank noted my agitation.
“What's wrong?” he asked when we were alone.
“Nothing … just the dinner … I've never made any of this stuff before.”
“You've made boiled potatoes, Refo.”
“But not the sauce.” I watched him get the jar of 'shine down from the top cupboard shelf.
“Oh, we're having sauce tonight, not gravy?” Frank teased. He poured me a drink. “Here's a head start.”
In short order the crowd assembled. Mike and Butch arrived, looking like they had just finished fucking. Charlie and Jody, looking all rosy-cheeked from their walk. Jawan and Mo, newly showered after their post-hike workout. Frank, who somehow always looked good – he couldn't help it. And me. Hot, tired, greasy from handling the roast, and hungry besides. Frank gave me another glass of 'shine.
The first course was kind of a Waldorf salad, light on the apples, because they were so far out of season, and heavy on the bacon because I was so into pork lately.
“So, when are you two ever going to get married,” Frank asked Charlie and his old friend. I choked on my glass of 'shine. Charlie and Jody looked embarrassed by the question.
“Um, should we tell 'em?” Charlie nodded yes. “We already are,” Jody said.
“Last Christmas, when we went to DC for the weekend,” Charlie added.
“You didn't tell us!” I gasped.
“We didn't want to make a big deal out of it,” Jody said. “It was almost a business transaction and we weren't sure … you know … we weren't sure we could really ...”
“We had to do it before New Year's … to get the tax deduction, you know,” Charlie the tax lawyer explained.
“Very business-like,” Butch commented, looking at Mike.
“Well, it started out that way ...” Jody said. “And then we fell in love.”
“We had always been in lust, of course, and maybe I was a little in love,” Charlie added, “but now things are much different.” He looked at Jody for agreement.
“Plus we got the $70,000 tax deduction,” Jody blurted out, getting a laugh from the table. “Which is kind of an embarrassing admission.”
“We all have stuff to be embarrassed about,” Butch said. “I have spent my whole life rejecting my family and now I have to say what a fuckin' mistake that was. AND ...” The air around the table filled with expectation. “I kind of like raising chickens. We're thinking about adding turkeys.”
“I love Butch,” Mike said, turning beet red.
“Mikie, we all knew that,” Charlie said with the warmest smile I had ever seen on his face Plus, he's a porn star,” he added tartly.
“Really?” from Mo. The ensuing story of Butch and Mike's porn career inspired Mo to make an admission. “You know, I complain about Ox, but he really helped me and I just kind of used him. I couldn't face living in Delaware with everybody eventually finding out I was gay and he was my way out. He said I could move in. All I had to do was let him suck me off. So I did … for two years. I say we never had sex, and that's almost true if you don't count blow jobs.” He looked around the table for agreement that blow jobs don't count. “So you think they do count ...” Everyone nodded and Mo continued. “He was really into me, but I wasn't feeling that at all. I was just glad to be out of Georgetown, Delaware and what's a blow job or two or five hundred. It was the fuckin' I couldn't handle. There's something intimate about fuckin' and … I just couldn't fuck Ox.. Except I did, a few times ...” Mo's story trailed off.
“Refo, I'm gonna want details later ...” Charlie said.
I went to the kitchen to get the roast and was appalled. “Oh my God, it's a blizzard!” I could barely see a foot into the thickly falling snow outside.
Everybody helped themselves to pork and the sides while Frank poured some Gewurtztraminer. “This stuff is local, so I don't know how good it is,” he said.
“It's excellent,” Jody decided.”Of course after moonshine, anything is.” We settle down to eating quietly.
“If we're making admissions,” Jody said quietly. “I have one. I'm one-eighth black.”
“That's why you're so handsome,” Butch said.
“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” Mo said.
“That's not the bad part. The bad part is I spent most of my life denying it. Trying to pass as white.”
“Very successfully, I'd say,” Charlie chipped in. “Who cares who your great-grandfather was?”
“Well, blacks do,” Jawan explained. “They're good at picking me out and not too good at letting me deny it. And I can't blame them. It's like I'm denying them. So that's why I changed my name from John to Jawan. It sort of admits my background.”
“But I've seen you dance. You suck at it.” I had perhaps had a drink or two too many.
Jawan burst out laughing, excusing me.
“Awesome,” Mike said, staring at Jawan. “I kind of see it now. The lips ...”
“Makes him a good kisser,” Mo said.
“The dick?” Charlie speculated.
“I'm guessing my great-grandfather had a small-sized dick,” Jawan answered.
“You have a perfectly fine dick!” No teasing or joking, Mo was totally serious.
“Now I'm getting embarrassed again.” Jawan blushed furiously and drank down his wine.
“So Jawan made the dessert,” I said to change the subject.
“He means I picked out the flavors of ice cream.”
After the final course, the party broke up. Everybody told me how great the dinner was and I almost believed them. Charlie and Jody were the first out the door. We listened to Jody's truck start up and then stop again. They came back.
“We can't make it up the hill to the road,” Jody said. “It's just a little incline, but the snow is wet and there are drifts. It's gotta be almost three feet deep in some places. Would it be ok if we stay?”
