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- Thread starter EasyRory
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EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Forty-Seven - No Secrets
I should have told B. J. that I was awake and could hear his phone call. I say I should have, but it explained so much. Like why he wants to marry me. I should confront him. It might make everything easier. Of course, the nicest easy thing to do is wash my truck. So that's what's happening. Finally the weather is warm enough that I don't freeze half to death from getting wet.
“Hello.”
I jerked bolt upright and then recognized the voice. I'd forgotten how good he is at sneaking up on people. “Hey, Otis. 'S up?”
“I like you and B. J.”
“Thanks. I'll tell him.”
“We talked when you were away.”
“Good. I was hoping you two would get to know each other.”
“His penis is not as big as yours.”
I actually dropped my chamois cloth. What do you say to that? I mean, he's right; but how did he find out? Otis is both awesome and a little freaky.
“He told me that. He did not take his clothes off,” Otis explained.
“That must have been an interesting talk you two had.”
“And last night when I saw y'all on the porch, he was right. I hoped you would fuck him but you didn't. He says you are very good. I wanted to see if I could learn something from you.”
“I think it helps if you are in love.”
“I am in love, I think, and Vince is being very nice to me. I wish I could tell him what I think; but it's hard.”
“You're telling me. Tell him the same thing.”
“You are easy to talk to. I get confused when I talk to Vince.”
“Otis, what I have noticed is that you are very good with your hands, very expressive. Touch him. Maybe there will be a chance to give him a hug. He will feel what you feel.”
“That is almost what Vicki says.”
“What does Vicki say?”
“She says I am good at sex and I should fuck him.” Otis said it wide eyed and then grinned when I laughed.
“Yes, there's that way. He'll get your meaning for sure.” I watched Otis smile and wondered what in the world was going on in his head. Maybe I should say something to Vince. I'd have to think about that.
“I think Mrs. Luckett likes young men.”
“Why do you say that?”
“She rents to you and B. J. and Vince and John and Lonnie.”
“Lonnie? Who's Lonnie?” I knew John a little, but Lonnie was new.
“A boy who moved in next to Vince while you were away. Vince tells me to keep my clothes on, but no one tells Lonnie. He never wears clothes.”
What?”
“He gets home and takes his clothes off. He wears them if he goes out. Good bye, Racer. Vince and I are going to a house to install … this afternoon.” He said some word I couldn't understand. I watched him walk away and thought Vince must be half an idiot to ignore such a sweet man who loves him.
Which brought me back to B. J.'s phone call. The phone's speaker echoed a little in the bathroom. “Hey, Lamar. You're calling early,” he said and I could hear the wariness in his voice. “Did you think about my idea?” Lamar asked. “I did. You know I have a boy friend, right?” B. J.'s voice sounded like he was terrified. “Whatever … I think you should do it. It's good for the fans. It's good for the organization. And it'll be good for you. Also … I hear Susie is a good fuck.”
What would be good for B. J.? The answer came quickly. “Lamar, I work with Susan, but I don't know her well at all. Not well enough to MARRY her! I can't just ask her of the blue.” Lamar was undeterred. “Sure you can. Knowing too much spoils the fun. She'll say yes. I already asked her. And she doesn't care about your boyfriend.”
I should have told B. J. I was listening right then. Then we could talk about it, talk about what pressures he was facing. Try to work out what to do. But, I didn't. I just listened.
“I care about my boyfriend,” B. J. said, and right then I knew it was big trouble. His reply should have been 'Fuck no!' Anything else was a just part of a negotiation. “She's checking out apartments today. The sooner we can announce something, the sooner you'll get your pay raise. You've been doing good work with the high school kids.”
“Pay raise?” B. J. asked.
“BOYFRIEND – FUCK THE MONEY!” I sent him telepathically.
“An extra fifty a year plus the apartment. Ask her today.”
Apparently the call ended. The next sound was B. J.'s hair dryer; his hair wasn't that long, but he said he was going for a 'blown' look; the team PR guy liked it that way. I decided to interrupt him. I walked into the bathroom. He stood naked with a hardon looking in the mirror.
“Been thinkin' about me?” I asked and hugged him from behind, letting him feel my soft dick in the crack of his ass. I rotated my hips and started to erect.
“Been thinkin' about money. Sometimes that gives me a hardon. Weird, huh? Could you pour me an OJ? I gotta hurry this morning.”
Here was another chance. I should have told him I overheard the conversation. The perfect opening. But I didn't. Why didn't I? Because I knew he had already made up his mind? It was only after I gave him the OJ and watched him leave I thought about what could happen. B. J. marries Susan, lives in some D.C. Apartment, and I'm his trick on the side, living way the fuck out in Warrenton, which he gets around to visiting every other week or so.
He kissed me when he left and I saw the start of tears in his eyes. He's not good at hiding much. So how come I'm not crying? I can see four versions of what's coming and they're all bad. How come I'm not crying? And how come Otis can put me in a good mood even when I know my world with B. J. may be coming apart?
And he did put me in a good mood. I manufactured a reason to walk over to Mrs. Luckett's door. I had to walk passed this new guy Lonnie's place to get there. I glanced up at the front door and almost like it was planned it opened. Lonnie, I guess it was him, came out wearing a towel around his waist to get his mail. While he was fishing around in the box, the towel fell off. “Oops, sorry,” he said and grinned at me. He didn't bother putting the towel back on; he just walked inside carrying it and his mail. Nothing special, but not bad. No shame. Just needs attention? What inspires guys to do stuff like that?
Nobody answered my phone call but I dressed and took my pay check over to Tommy Lynn's anyway. I went more for something to do than out of any need. I could have mailed it, I guess; but it was a nice day and what the hell.
I went in through the garage. Tommy Lynn's four classic cars looked like they could use a buffing up. “Hello? Tommy Lynn? George?”
A startled young man said, “Who are you? How did you get in?” He went into a kind of wary crouch, as if he might have to fight me.
“I'm Racer Tyree. I came over to drop off my check.”
The young man relaxed. “Really? You don't look like Racer Tyree.”
“How can you say that? We never met before.”
“George has a picture of Racer Tyree. It doesn't look like you!”
“Well, take a look at the check. It's made out to me – to 'Brendon R. Tyree' specifically. That's my real name.”
His eyes widened when he saw the amount. “Is this how much you make in a month?”
“Some months,” I told him. “This was a good one.”
“Why do I want to be a financial adviser? I should learn to drive hot rods.”
“They're not 'hot rods'. They're race cars built to a set formula.” He was fiddling with his phone. “Hello? Geordie?” Apparently George answered. He set the phone on the desk and waited.
“Racer? That you?” crackled George's voice.
“Get a better phone,” I told the young man. “It's me, George.”
“So you've met Eustis. Be nice to him, Racer. He's an impressionable young man.” I glanced at Eustis who was blushing furiously. “And I am planning to impress a certain part of him profoundly.”
“Can I trust him with my check?”
“What? Of course! Just don't fuck him.” I glanced at Eustis, who went into his crouch and seemed terrified again.
“Why does he say I don't look like me?”
“No clue,” George said through a static hiss.
“It's that poster in your office. You said it was Racer,” Eustis interjected.
“It's my CONCEPT of Racer. It's not actually Racer. Take his check and give him a receipt, Euie. And Racer? If you want to clean the cars, please keep your clothes on. Euie is VERY impressionable and I want to do the impressing.” George clicked off.
“You … you wash cars naked?” Eustis asked me.
“Are you named for Fort Eustis?” I asked changing the subject.
“Brevet Brigadier General Abraham Eustis. The fort is also named after him.”
“What does 'brevet' mean?”
“It mean he wasn't a brigadier general.”
“Whatever … So, I'll be going once you give me the receipt.”
Eustis wrote me a receipt for eighty-one thousand five hunderd twenty-six dollars and sixty cents. I smiled remembering kidding Lucas about rounding it off to sixty cents. Lucas was not amused at all and explained about rounding down when the superior digit was even and down when it was odd. While thinking of Lucas I noticed Eustis's zipper was half down.
“Your zipper,” I pointed out as he gave me the receipt.
“Broken,” he said and zipped it up. It promptly slid back down and he tried to pretend it hadn't while blushing furiously again.
“Did George have something to do with breaking it?” He looked like he wanted to die. “Never mind. Thanks for taking the check, Eustis.” He couldn't control a sigh of relief.
God, was I ever that young? I asked myself. I drove out of Tommy Lynn's long drive and wondered if I should call B. J. He didn't like to be called at work. I decided to wait and turned on the radio. There was a news report. The news was terrible.
I should have told B. J. that I was awake and could hear his phone call. I say I should have, but it explained so much. Like why he wants to marry me. I should confront him. It might make everything easier. Of course, the nicest easy thing to do is wash my truck. So that's what's happening. Finally the weather is warm enough that I don't freeze half to death from getting wet.
“Hello.”
I jerked bolt upright and then recognized the voice. I'd forgotten how good he is at sneaking up on people. “Hey, Otis. 'S up?”
“I like you and B. J.”
“Thanks. I'll tell him.”
“We talked when you were away.”
“Good. I was hoping you two would get to know each other.”
“His penis is not as big as yours.”
I actually dropped my chamois cloth. What do you say to that? I mean, he's right; but how did he find out? Otis is both awesome and a little freaky.
“He told me that. He did not take his clothes off,” Otis explained.
“That must have been an interesting talk you two had.”
“And last night when I saw y'all on the porch, he was right. I hoped you would fuck him but you didn't. He says you are very good. I wanted to see if I could learn something from you.”
“I think it helps if you are in love.”
“I am in love, I think, and Vince is being very nice to me. I wish I could tell him what I think; but it's hard.”
“You're telling me. Tell him the same thing.”
“You are easy to talk to. I get confused when I talk to Vince.”
“Otis, what I have noticed is that you are very good with your hands, very expressive. Touch him. Maybe there will be a chance to give him a hug. He will feel what you feel.”
“That is almost what Vicki says.”
“What does Vicki say?”
“She says I am good at sex and I should fuck him.” Otis said it wide eyed and then grinned when I laughed.
“Yes, there's that way. He'll get your meaning for sure.” I watched Otis smile and wondered what in the world was going on in his head. Maybe I should say something to Vince. I'd have to think about that.
“I think Mrs. Luckett likes young men.”
“Why do you say that?”
“She rents to you and B. J. and Vince and John and Lonnie.”
“Lonnie? Who's Lonnie?” I knew John a little, but Lonnie was new.
“A boy who moved in next to Vince while you were away. Vince tells me to keep my clothes on, but no one tells Lonnie. He never wears clothes.”
What?”
“He gets home and takes his clothes off. He wears them if he goes out. Good bye, Racer. Vince and I are going to a house to install … this afternoon.” He said some word I couldn't understand. I watched him walk away and thought Vince must be half an idiot to ignore such a sweet man who loves him.
Which brought me back to B. J.'s phone call. The phone's speaker echoed a little in the bathroom. “Hey, Lamar. You're calling early,” he said and I could hear the wariness in his voice. “Did you think about my idea?” Lamar asked. “I did. You know I have a boy friend, right?” B. J.'s voice sounded like he was terrified. “Whatever … I think you should do it. It's good for the fans. It's good for the organization. And it'll be good for you. Also … I hear Susie is a good fuck.”
What would be good for B. J.? The answer came quickly. “Lamar, I work with Susan, but I don't know her well at all. Not well enough to MARRY her! I can't just ask her of the blue.” Lamar was undeterred. “Sure you can. Knowing too much spoils the fun. She'll say yes. I already asked her. And she doesn't care about your boyfriend.”
I should have told B. J. I was listening right then. Then we could talk about it, talk about what pressures he was facing. Try to work out what to do. But, I didn't. I just listened.
“I care about my boyfriend,” B. J. said, and right then I knew it was big trouble. His reply should have been 'Fuck no!' Anything else was a just part of a negotiation. “She's checking out apartments today. The sooner we can announce something, the sooner you'll get your pay raise. You've been doing good work with the high school kids.”
“Pay raise?” B. J. asked.
“BOYFRIEND – FUCK THE MONEY!” I sent him telepathically.
“An extra fifty a year plus the apartment. Ask her today.”
Apparently the call ended. The next sound was B. J.'s hair dryer; his hair wasn't that long, but he said he was going for a 'blown' look; the team PR guy liked it that way. I decided to interrupt him. I walked into the bathroom. He stood naked with a hardon looking in the mirror.
“Been thinkin' about me?” I asked and hugged him from behind, letting him feel my soft dick in the crack of his ass. I rotated my hips and started to erect.
“Been thinkin' about money. Sometimes that gives me a hardon. Weird, huh? Could you pour me an OJ? I gotta hurry this morning.”
Here was another chance. I should have told him I overheard the conversation. The perfect opening. But I didn't. Why didn't I? Because I knew he had already made up his mind? It was only after I gave him the OJ and watched him leave I thought about what could happen. B. J. marries Susan, lives in some D.C. Apartment, and I'm his trick on the side, living way the fuck out in Warrenton, which he gets around to visiting every other week or so.
He kissed me when he left and I saw the start of tears in his eyes. He's not good at hiding much. So how come I'm not crying? I can see four versions of what's coming and they're all bad. How come I'm not crying? And how come Otis can put me in a good mood even when I know my world with B. J. may be coming apart?
And he did put me in a good mood. I manufactured a reason to walk over to Mrs. Luckett's door. I had to walk passed this new guy Lonnie's place to get there. I glanced up at the front door and almost like it was planned it opened. Lonnie, I guess it was him, came out wearing a towel around his waist to get his mail. While he was fishing around in the box, the towel fell off. “Oops, sorry,” he said and grinned at me. He didn't bother putting the towel back on; he just walked inside carrying it and his mail. Nothing special, but not bad. No shame. Just needs attention? What inspires guys to do stuff like that?
Nobody answered my phone call but I dressed and took my pay check over to Tommy Lynn's anyway. I went more for something to do than out of any need. I could have mailed it, I guess; but it was a nice day and what the hell.
I went in through the garage. Tommy Lynn's four classic cars looked like they could use a buffing up. “Hello? Tommy Lynn? George?”
A startled young man said, “Who are you? How did you get in?” He went into a kind of wary crouch, as if he might have to fight me.
“I'm Racer Tyree. I came over to drop off my check.”
The young man relaxed. “Really? You don't look like Racer Tyree.”
“How can you say that? We never met before.”
“George has a picture of Racer Tyree. It doesn't look like you!”
“Well, take a look at the check. It's made out to me – to 'Brendon R. Tyree' specifically. That's my real name.”
His eyes widened when he saw the amount. “Is this how much you make in a month?”
“Some months,” I told him. “This was a good one.”
“Why do I want to be a financial adviser? I should learn to drive hot rods.”
“They're not 'hot rods'. They're race cars built to a set formula.” He was fiddling with his phone. “Hello? Geordie?” Apparently George answered. He set the phone on the desk and waited.
“Racer? That you?” crackled George's voice.
“Get a better phone,” I told the young man. “It's me, George.”
“So you've met Eustis. Be nice to him, Racer. He's an impressionable young man.” I glanced at Eustis who was blushing furiously. “And I am planning to impress a certain part of him profoundly.”
“Can I trust him with my check?”
“What? Of course! Just don't fuck him.” I glanced at Eustis, who went into his crouch and seemed terrified again.
“Why does he say I don't look like me?”
“No clue,” George said through a static hiss.
“It's that poster in your office. You said it was Racer,” Eustis interjected.
“It's my CONCEPT of Racer. It's not actually Racer. Take his check and give him a receipt, Euie. And Racer? If you want to clean the cars, please keep your clothes on. Euie is VERY impressionable and I want to do the impressing.” George clicked off.
“You … you wash cars naked?” Eustis asked me.
“Are you named for Fort Eustis?” I asked changing the subject.
“Brevet Brigadier General Abraham Eustis. The fort is also named after him.”
“What does 'brevet' mean?”
“It mean he wasn't a brigadier general.”
“Whatever … So, I'll be going once you give me the receipt.”
Eustis wrote me a receipt for eighty-one thousand five hunderd twenty-six dollars and sixty cents. I smiled remembering kidding Lucas about rounding it off to sixty cents. Lucas was not amused at all and explained about rounding down when the superior digit was even and down when it was odd. While thinking of Lucas I noticed Eustis's zipper was half down.
“Your zipper,” I pointed out as he gave me the receipt.
“Broken,” he said and zipped it up. It promptly slid back down and he tried to pretend it hadn't while blushing furiously again.
“Did George have something to do with breaking it?” He looked like he wanted to die. “Never mind. Thanks for taking the check, Eustis.” He couldn't control a sigh of relief.
God, was I ever that young? I asked myself. I drove out of Tommy Lynn's long drive and wondered if I should call B. J. He didn't like to be called at work. I decided to wait and turned on the radio. There was a news report. The news was terrible.
- Joined
- Oct 9, 2004
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Rory, Buddy, you're so effectively tugging at my Heart strings! Excellent writing! I'm happy, and sad, to have read this latest from "our" boys. 
I'm assuming I know what the terrible news was. Damn It!
Racer's state of mind is too understandable. I've been in somewhat similar situations, if not exactly, things unraveling, and found myself reacting along the same lines of initial "detachment". Could have, maybe should have, done "X", but didn't.
And, what IS this "deal" with B.J. and Susan? I'm not quite following the logic behind it ...
Lonnie and Euie sound like interesting additions.
I'm certainly looking forward to where you might be so adeptly leading "Us"!
All the more reasons to ... No Matter What ...
Keep Smilin'!!
Chaz
I'm assuming I know what the terrible news was. Damn It!
Racer's state of mind is too understandable. I've been in somewhat similar situations, if not exactly, things unraveling, and found myself reacting along the same lines of initial "detachment". Could have, maybe should have, done "X", but didn't.
And, what IS this "deal" with B.J. and Susan? I'm not quite following the logic behind it ...
Lonnie and Euie sound like interesting additions.
I'm certainly looking forward to where you might be so adeptly leading "Us"!
All the more reasons to ... No Matter What ...
Keep Smilin'!!
Chaz
Hi, Rory.
I read this at work this afternoon when it arrived in my e-mail inbox. It started out ominous, and I fare-thee-well lost it pretty soon thereafter as, yeah. 'nuff said, for those who aren't as familiar as some of us.
I have to agree with Chaz, the new tenant at the park holds promise, as does our very impressionable Euie.
BJ, my BJ. Oh what are you doing to yourself, and to Racer??
Maybe Racer will move South to be with a certain member of the constabulatory?
It's a powerful chapter - particularly for long time readers. It's going to stay with me for awhile.
I read this at work this afternoon when it arrived in my e-mail inbox. It started out ominous, and I fare-thee-well lost it pretty soon thereafter as, yeah. 'nuff said, for those who aren't as familiar as some of us.
I have to agree with Chaz, the new tenant at the park holds promise, as does our very impressionable Euie.
BJ, my BJ. Oh what are you doing to yourself, and to Racer??
Maybe Racer will move South to be with a certain member of the constabulatory?
It's a powerful chapter - particularly for long time readers. It's going to stay with me for awhile.
Craiger
JUB Addict
I was kind of hoping this chapter wouldn't arrive quite so quickly. The sadness comes creeping back. Chaz is right, Racer seems rather detached which is not like him. It's not fun to witness a conversation like he did. I just hope the money doesn't influence B.J. to make a big mistake. I look forward with trepidation to whatever path Racer and B.J. pursue. Thanks, Rory.
Craiger
Craiger
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Thanks for all the kind words, friends. This chapter was a long time coming. I used to have a couple days a week when I could spend hours writing, but my life changed hugely in early September and those days are now few. The "life change" wasn't bad by any means, but, as the words say, it did change my life.
I'm glad your life change wasn't bad - I think many of us find our lives more hectic than they once were.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
''Many writers who choose to be active in the world lose not virtue but time, and that stillness without which literature cannot be made.'' - Gore Vidal.
I don't pretend my little stories are literature, but it's hard to write when my life has become a lot busier than it was. Note: not better, just busier.
I don't pretend my little stories are literature, but it's hard to write when my life has become a lot busier than it was. Note: not better, just busier.
Having had my life follow a similar pattern this past year, I understand, and greatly appreciate the efforts you make to write your stories - and I would consider them literature.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Forty-Eight - The Wheels Come Off
I sat alone on the porch in the dark and texted B. J. “Are you ever coming home?” It was eight thirty. His answer was “Soon”, the same thing he sent the last couple of times I texted him. I was on my third vodka but the slight buzz didn't help. It only made the porch seem to rock slightly every time a truck went by on the main road.
I drank the first vodka with Vince, who came back to his apartment to change after the police were through with him. It was impossible for me to talk about Otis. God knows how Vince must have felt. The radio report said Otis died in Vince's arms after some lunatic shot him. I didn't really know Vince all that well and yet we hugged each other like drowning men. I knew it wasn't helping and yet I couldn't let go of him. I could feel him breath and somehow that was reassuring.
“Otis kissed me, Racer. Right before we went into the house. He said you told him to.” I nodded. “I'm glad. Glad you told him to and glad he did it.” Vince's hair smelled amazing, just the way Paul always said it did. I almost asked him what shampoo he used. What a stupid thought at a time like this! “He wanted to go to the truck for a tool we needed, but I was in a hurry and – you know how he could be slow – and I went instead knowing I'd be faster doing it myself. If I'd let him do it, he'd still be ...” Vince stopped talking. “The guy thought Otis was having sex with his wife! Half the dudes in Northern Virginia were, but not Otis. And he just shot him with some antique shotgun! No questions! Just shot him!” Vince didn't sob and he spoke clearly, but tears were streaming down his face. “I loved him, Racer. And I never got to tell him.”
“He knew you did, I think; and I know he loved you. More than anyone in his life.”
“I should have ...”
“You made him happy, Vince. You never disappointed him.”
“He liked you, too. You were his special friend and he didn't have many.” A truck in the parking lot honked. “I'm going to get together with some friends, some people who worked with Otis. You want to come?” I said no thanks; Vince wiped his face with his hand and walked over to the truck. I watched them drive away. And then I cried. Some for my strange wonderful friend and some for myself. My drink was almost gone when B. J. drove into his usual spot.
“You look like shit,” was his greeting.
“How can you tell? It's dark.” He started to say something and I interrupted him. “Otis is dead. Somebody shot him.”
“Oh my God!” B. J. was hushed. “I heard something on the radio driving here, but they didn't give a name. You need another? I'll get us two drinks. Be right back.”
Well, he didn't come right back. He took a while, or it seemed like he did. He changed his clothes and eventually returned with two glasses. The icy vodka tasted good. “So tell me ...” B. J. began.
“Kiss me,” I told him and he did. I held on to him and wouldn't let him pull away. He let me take his shirt off but stopped me when I undid his belt buckle. “I want to have sex here. Now,” I told him. “Maybe Otis can watch us. He always wanted to.”
“Racer, if he can see anything right now, he could see us in the bedroom just as easy.”
“He won't be looking in the bedroom.”
B. J. didn't protest and sensed what his role should be. I really needed to be fucked and I wanted him with a need that surprised me. He took it slowly and gently at first. Pushing ahead, backing off, pushing a little farther, backing off again. “Fuck me,” I begged him and he did. I didn't come, it wasn't that kind of a fuck; but B.J. did. Noisily. I think he was shocked at the ardor of his own performance.
“Racer, are you ok? I kinda got carried away. Did I ...”
“Yes,” I told him.
“I did! Jeez, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I ...” He kissed me several times.
“Not yes, you hurt me. Yes, I'll marry you. I didn't really give you an answer last night.”
B. J. was shocked. “Fuck!” he said.
“Not the reaction I was expecting,” I told him, feeling what he must have felt the night before.
“What time is it?” he asked. I had no idea so he fished his phone out of his pants and turned it on. “Nine-thirty. Come on inside. There's something I want you to see.” We gathered up our clothes and went in. B. J. lay on the sofa and said, “Here. Right beside me.”
“Naked and sticky?”
“Naked and sticky,” he confirmed. “Closer,” he said and then pulled me against him. “Like this,” he kissed me. “You know you're the first big deal in my life? My first nobody-else-even-comes-close love?” He didn't expect an answer. “Well you are, and twice now I've asked you to marry me. The first time … the sex was all new and awesome and I wanted to be with you every minute, so I asked you and you said ok.”
“I said more than just O K,” I protested.
“You did,” he acknowledged. “And I disappointed you 'cause I was a coward. Afraid to admit what I felt. Afraid of my father.” I nodded. “And you were so nice about it, like you knew it was never going to happen anyway.” He stopped to kiss me some more and got diverted. “God you're a great kisser. And so handsome. I could die happy just looking at you.” We kissed some more and he grabbed my hand and put it on his ass. “All yours, any time you want, Race.”
“What are you trying to say, Beej?”
“I love you with all my heart. There's nobody even close.” He put my hand back on his butt and clenched his cheeks, trapping my fingers briefly. “I love it when you fuck me. And I'm ready to admit that to anyone who asks. My father. My brothers. Anybody.”
Whatever he was trying to say got delayed. Hard dicks got in the way. “Wait! I want to record a show.” He set something on TV to record and then sucked my dick in a teasing way that always made me want to get right to the fuckin' part. Which we did. I was slow-fucking him just the way he likes. And he started cooing the way he always does when I'm hitting his prostate just right. And then he tried something new. He wet his thumbs and rubbed my nipples lightly. I groaned involuntarily at the wave of pleasure. He twisted them, hurting me a little, and then went back to gentle pressure this way and that.
Nipples! My God! Awesome! I pounded his ass until I knew I was hurting him and then I exploded in the most intense orgasm I've ever felt. It took a while to cool down.
“Otis, I hoped you're watching, 'cause Racer just blew the biggest load of his life!” B. J. was laughing, hugging and kissing me.
“I hurt you.”
“Yeah, but in a good way. You can hurt me like that any time. You love me? Tell me you do!”
“I do and remember my 'yes'? Where is your long story about marriage going?”
“Well … I want you to watch something ...” He punched a couple buttons on the remote the ten o'clock news came on. “Let me fast forward ...” He skipped ahead to the sports segment of the show. “I want to you see this. It's not important, but I want you to see it before you hear about it.”
The announcer began, “Here's some happy news in the Redskins family that is going to keep some of us busy this off-season.” The scene changed to a close up shot of B. J. in his suit and tie looking very earnest. “Will you marry me, Susan?” They cut to an ecstatic Susan, who cried out the expected, “YES!” The announcer resumed his banter as B. J. cut off the recording.
“It means nothing, Racer.” He could tell I didn't believe him. “Nothing. It's a fake marriage for the publicity value. She doesn't give a shit. I couldn't care less. We may not even go through with it. They're gauging the public reaction. We might split up.”
“Did Susan teach you that nipple thing?”
“Yes! Awesome, isn't it? I couldn't wait to show you!”
“B. J. ...” I stood up.
“What?” he smiled at me in that super cute way he has.
“You want another drink?”
I sat alone on the porch in the dark and texted B. J. “Are you ever coming home?” It was eight thirty. His answer was “Soon”, the same thing he sent the last couple of times I texted him. I was on my third vodka but the slight buzz didn't help. It only made the porch seem to rock slightly every time a truck went by on the main road.
I drank the first vodka with Vince, who came back to his apartment to change after the police were through with him. It was impossible for me to talk about Otis. God knows how Vince must have felt. The radio report said Otis died in Vince's arms after some lunatic shot him. I didn't really know Vince all that well and yet we hugged each other like drowning men. I knew it wasn't helping and yet I couldn't let go of him. I could feel him breath and somehow that was reassuring.
“Otis kissed me, Racer. Right before we went into the house. He said you told him to.” I nodded. “I'm glad. Glad you told him to and glad he did it.” Vince's hair smelled amazing, just the way Paul always said it did. I almost asked him what shampoo he used. What a stupid thought at a time like this! “He wanted to go to the truck for a tool we needed, but I was in a hurry and – you know how he could be slow – and I went instead knowing I'd be faster doing it myself. If I'd let him do it, he'd still be ...” Vince stopped talking. “The guy thought Otis was having sex with his wife! Half the dudes in Northern Virginia were, but not Otis. And he just shot him with some antique shotgun! No questions! Just shot him!” Vince didn't sob and he spoke clearly, but tears were streaming down his face. “I loved him, Racer. And I never got to tell him.”
“He knew you did, I think; and I know he loved you. More than anyone in his life.”
“I should have ...”
“You made him happy, Vince. You never disappointed him.”
“He liked you, too. You were his special friend and he didn't have many.” A truck in the parking lot honked. “I'm going to get together with some friends, some people who worked with Otis. You want to come?” I said no thanks; Vince wiped his face with his hand and walked over to the truck. I watched them drive away. And then I cried. Some for my strange wonderful friend and some for myself. My drink was almost gone when B. J. drove into his usual spot.
“You look like shit,” was his greeting.
“How can you tell? It's dark.” He started to say something and I interrupted him. “Otis is dead. Somebody shot him.”
“Oh my God!” B. J. was hushed. “I heard something on the radio driving here, but they didn't give a name. You need another? I'll get us two drinks. Be right back.”
Well, he didn't come right back. He took a while, or it seemed like he did. He changed his clothes and eventually returned with two glasses. The icy vodka tasted good. “So tell me ...” B. J. began.
“Kiss me,” I told him and he did. I held on to him and wouldn't let him pull away. He let me take his shirt off but stopped me when I undid his belt buckle. “I want to have sex here. Now,” I told him. “Maybe Otis can watch us. He always wanted to.”
“Racer, if he can see anything right now, he could see us in the bedroom just as easy.”
“He won't be looking in the bedroom.”
B. J. didn't protest and sensed what his role should be. I really needed to be fucked and I wanted him with a need that surprised me. He took it slowly and gently at first. Pushing ahead, backing off, pushing a little farther, backing off again. “Fuck me,” I begged him and he did. I didn't come, it wasn't that kind of a fuck; but B.J. did. Noisily. I think he was shocked at the ardor of his own performance.
“Racer, are you ok? I kinda got carried away. Did I ...”
“Yes,” I told him.
“I did! Jeez, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I ...” He kissed me several times.
“Not yes, you hurt me. Yes, I'll marry you. I didn't really give you an answer last night.”
B. J. was shocked. “Fuck!” he said.
“Not the reaction I was expecting,” I told him, feeling what he must have felt the night before.
“What time is it?” he asked. I had no idea so he fished his phone out of his pants and turned it on. “Nine-thirty. Come on inside. There's something I want you to see.” We gathered up our clothes and went in. B. J. lay on the sofa and said, “Here. Right beside me.”
“Naked and sticky?”
“Naked and sticky,” he confirmed. “Closer,” he said and then pulled me against him. “Like this,” he kissed me. “You know you're the first big deal in my life? My first nobody-else-even-comes-close love?” He didn't expect an answer. “Well you are, and twice now I've asked you to marry me. The first time … the sex was all new and awesome and I wanted to be with you every minute, so I asked you and you said ok.”
“I said more than just O K,” I protested.
“You did,” he acknowledged. “And I disappointed you 'cause I was a coward. Afraid to admit what I felt. Afraid of my father.” I nodded. “And you were so nice about it, like you knew it was never going to happen anyway.” He stopped to kiss me some more and got diverted. “God you're a great kisser. And so handsome. I could die happy just looking at you.” We kissed some more and he grabbed my hand and put it on his ass. “All yours, any time you want, Race.”
“What are you trying to say, Beej?”
“I love you with all my heart. There's nobody even close.” He put my hand back on his butt and clenched his cheeks, trapping my fingers briefly. “I love it when you fuck me. And I'm ready to admit that to anyone who asks. My father. My brothers. Anybody.”
Whatever he was trying to say got delayed. Hard dicks got in the way. “Wait! I want to record a show.” He set something on TV to record and then sucked my dick in a teasing way that always made me want to get right to the fuckin' part. Which we did. I was slow-fucking him just the way he likes. And he started cooing the way he always does when I'm hitting his prostate just right. And then he tried something new. He wet his thumbs and rubbed my nipples lightly. I groaned involuntarily at the wave of pleasure. He twisted them, hurting me a little, and then went back to gentle pressure this way and that.
Nipples! My God! Awesome! I pounded his ass until I knew I was hurting him and then I exploded in the most intense orgasm I've ever felt. It took a while to cool down.
“Otis, I hoped you're watching, 'cause Racer just blew the biggest load of his life!” B. J. was laughing, hugging and kissing me.
“I hurt you.”
“Yeah, but in a good way. You can hurt me like that any time. You love me? Tell me you do!”
“I do and remember my 'yes'? Where is your long story about marriage going?”
“Well … I want you to watch something ...” He punched a couple buttons on the remote the ten o'clock news came on. “Let me fast forward ...” He skipped ahead to the sports segment of the show. “I want to you see this. It's not important, but I want you to see it before you hear about it.”
The announcer began, “Here's some happy news in the Redskins family that is going to keep some of us busy this off-season.” The scene changed to a close up shot of B. J. in his suit and tie looking very earnest. “Will you marry me, Susan?” They cut to an ecstatic Susan, who cried out the expected, “YES!” The announcer resumed his banter as B. J. cut off the recording.
“It means nothing, Racer.” He could tell I didn't believe him. “Nothing. It's a fake marriage for the publicity value. She doesn't give a shit. I couldn't care less. We may not even go through with it. They're gauging the public reaction. We might split up.”
“Did Susan teach you that nipple thing?”
“Yes! Awesome, isn't it? I couldn't wait to show you!”
“B. J. ...” I stood up.
“What?” he smiled at me in that super cute way he has.
“You want another drink?”
Rory,
Recounting the last day of Otis' life was hard, but necessary after the previous lead in - we needed the reaction and the coming to terms. I'm glad they made love on the porch for Otis and then again inside, and acknowledged him.
I still miss him.
The wedding -is this DC meets Hollywood in hyped non-marriages?
How will this play - BJ sees it as nothing - but he's getting action on both sides - while Racer is left hanging - the groomsman left at the altar - in the role reversal of the always a bridesmaid, never a bride?
Recounting the last day of Otis' life was hard, but necessary after the previous lead in - we needed the reaction and the coming to terms. I'm glad they made love on the porch for Otis and then again inside, and acknowledged him.
I still miss him.
The wedding -is this DC meets Hollywood in hyped non-marriages?
How will this play - BJ sees it as nothing - but he's getting action on both sides - while Racer is left hanging - the groomsman left at the altar - in the role reversal of the always a bridesmaid, never a bride?
Craiger
JUB Addict
As Don has said, it was hard to replay the tragedy that befell Otis. I'm glad Racer was able to establish a pure connection to him. As we all did. Such a loss.
B.J. may have gone a little too far this time. Fake marriage or not, Racer will remain in the shadow. I hope they sort this out before B.J. goes through with the whole thing. There certainly are times when actions speak louder than words... Thank, Rory.
Craiger
B.J. may have gone a little too far this time. Fake marriage or not, Racer will remain in the shadow. I hope they sort this out before B.J. goes through with the whole thing. There certainly are times when actions speak louder than words... Thank, Rory.
Craiger
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Forty-Nine - On the Road
B.J. promised that his engagement would change nothing, but of course things changed. He wasn't home every night and he always smelled of Susan when he did come home the next day. He didn't say anything, and I didn't ask; but obviously they were having a sexual relationship whether or not the marriage actually came off. He kept telling me it was only a maybe, nothing for sure.
“We haven't even set a date, Racer. All I can tell you is the PR guys say fan reaction is positive when we appear together at high school functions. It's not just the kids; trheir parents like us, too. We're positive role models.”
“High schoolers are your biggest fans?”
“No, but they're future fans and, as a couple, we say to the guys: be a football fan and you'll get laid a lot by someone like Sue.”
“So she's a big deal and you're not. Beauty and the Beast? Is that the scenario?”
“Kind of … I guess. I don't appeal to guys.”
“You do to me, B. J.”
He liked that and we had a great night together; but he didn't come home the next day. It wasn't so much that he didn't come home; he didn't even call. I know I'm sounding whiny about this, but when you're looking forward to a long night together and you just wait and wait …
George Brightwater called me the next day and I pretended I didn't understand him on the phone. I wanted something to do, like go see him. He didn't so much turn me on as just pay attention to me. Something B. J. wasn't doing.
“See, if you participate in the consortium, Racer, it gives you exposure to residential real estate as well as retail. In a safe way, of course.”
“Safeway? You sound like a grocery store. You got any pictures?”
“Sure. I made a slide presentation. Come on ...” He took me to a conference room I hadn't seen before and projected computer images onto a screen. The shots showed a rolling field and an animated grid of houses placed on it.
“Big houses, George. So close together ...”
“Yes, but arranged so they don't look into each others windows. That's what people want: mansions in the country without any of the countryside thy have to take care of. Oops!” A shot of one of Tommy Lynn's cars, the old Chevy, with somebody polishing it – just the way I polish it. “Sorry. Don't know how that got in here.”
“Somebody new take my car washing job?”
“It's YOU, dummy! Looking very good I might add. Hope you don't mind. Tommy Lynn had me get it blown up and mounted for his office.” George looked around as if somebody was listening and whispered, “I caught Euie looking at it and jacking off.”
The picture didn't look like me. It looked like somebody older. More mature. I told him so. He showed me a few other shots and, sure enough, it was me. I was naked, but the shots were almost G-rated. You had to look to notice it, and nothing much showed. Just me in profile, reaching across the hood and the roof of the Chevy. Ok, nude, but not lewd.
“You're not pissed, are you? I should have told you I was using my phone camera. It's just that one shot that Tommy Lynn really likes; I'll delete the rest.” I shrugged; worse things have happened. “That's it? That's your reaction?” George shook his head. “You're so laid back about everything, Racer. The first time somebody took a nudie of me I tried to kill him.”
“I got other stuff on my mind. B. J. is engaged.”
“Don't you mean B. J. and I are engaged?”
“He's engaged to this chick he works with. He says it's all bullshit for the press and public; but he's fuckin' her a lot.” That shut him up. He just looked at me and didn't know what to say. “Yeah, George, so here's my last check and the house deal sounds ok, if Tommy Lynn agrees.”
“Sure, Race ...” George sounded deflated, as if I had ruined his day.
I drove back to home and hated being alone, which was something new. I never used to mind a little solitude. Time to think. Time to plan. Time to arrange my life; but at this moment I wanted some company. Paul, or Otis, or B. J. Anybody, but not Jared.
“Hey, Racer! Is B. J. here?”
“He's in town working, Jared.”
“I texted him I was coming over. Brought a couple of sandwiches. You want his?” I nodded. “Inside or out?”
“Let's eat on the porch,” I said.
“You're looking very serious,” Jared noted as he spread out as array of sandwich pieces and a couple of Cokes. “B. J. likes mustard, but if you don't these ...” He pointed at two pieces of sub closer to him. “ … have mayo and vinaigrette on them. Some peppers are in the cup. I like 'em. B. J. doesn't.”
“I know. How do you know?”
“Sometimes I come over and we shoot the shit. Mostly about how HARD it is living with his brother. And I don't mean hard in a good way.”
“What does D. J. stand for?”
“He won't tell me. I'm fuckin' him regular and he won't even tell me his name. I lifted his wallet once and looked at his driver's license. No help. It just says D and J with quotation marks around them.” Ok, I admit it. He made me laugh. “And he's so fuckin' huge!”
“His dick?”
“No, I mean he's way taller than I am. His dick's average I guess. So if I'm kissing him, which he really likes, MY dick is poppin' out of his ass half the time. Which he ALSO likes. He likes it when our dicks rub together. I'm starting to think he only tolerates getting fucked so he can rub against my dick.”
I laughed again. “Do your red pubes turn him on?”
Jared had a mouth full he needed to swallow before he could answer. “I don't know. I'm not sure he knows what I look like. We do everything in total darkness. I've never seen him completely naked. Most of what I know about him depends on my sense of touch.”
Jared's domestic life story was improving my mood. “B. J. loves being naked,” I volunteered.
“I know,” Jared said and then regretted it. “I mean … well … there was a time when you were out of the picture … and ...”
“No need to explain.”
“You're lucky. I'm telling you B. J. is so uncomplicated compared to D. J.”
“You think? Then why did he get engaged to this chick Susan?”
“Engaged??? Really!! D. J. said he was working with somebody. That was all.” Jared shook his head in wonder. “Man, these Carteret dudes … And that other brother … T. J. … he's another head case. Or should I say he LIKES head. One time I was suckin' his dick and he groans, 'Oh, suck me, A. J.' That family is like one big queer ZOO!! And by the way DO NOT EVER let A. J. suck your dick.” Jared took another big bite of his sandwich and chewed carefully as if he had been discussing the weather.
I was amazed. “You've had the whole family?”
Jared swallowed and took a gulp of Coke. “Not the Mom.” He let out a small burp. “I gotta eat slower,” he said with emphasis and started stuffing what was left of lunch into the bag he brought it in. “A pass on the peppers? You want to keep them for later?”
“Thanks, no. I'm leaving in a couple of days. They'd go to waste.”
“Ok. And thanks, Racer. You always were level-headed. I think it helps to talk about these things.” He left, walking back toward the Subway, tossing the carefully-collected bag of trash into the street. Call me compulsive. I retrieved it and threw it in Mrs. Luckett's dumpster.
When in need, wash the truck, I always say; the work that was a pleasure for me. It required just enough attention to half engage my mind. This day the other half comtemplated the cluster-fuck that was the Carteret family. I should have asked him about the father. What had Jared done with the father?
While I was working a car I didn't know pulled in and the new guy, Lonnie, got out. I waved and said hey. He came over and introduced himself.
“Lonnie Calthorpe, with an 'e' on the end” he said. “I work in a warehouse this side of Charlottesville.”
We talked a little and then he went inside. He seemed perfectly normal, dressed maybe a little formally for a warehouseman; but so what? Not everybody has to be a slob. I was concluding Otis must have come to the wrong conclusion when he came out onto his doorstep to check his mail wearing a towel around his waist. Ok, I guess; nobody was around and he's be outside just a couple of seconds. He turned to go back inside and the towel fell to the step. He snatched it up and quickly went inside, without a glance at me. Ok, not your everyday event, flashing a nice ass at the world, but it could have been an accident. Right? Right???
I finished up the truck as B. J. pulled into the parking lot. He looked very handsome in what must have been a new suit. It was medium gray showing off his body just right. I followed him inside where he embraced me.
“I'm so glad to see you,” he said before kissing me. He didn't smell of Susan.
“Let me get cleaned up. I'm all dirty from the truck.”
“Ok, meet you on the porch.”
I did hurry. A quick shower and a shave – I didn't want to scrape my beard all over his face. Well, yes I did; but I didn't want it to hurt him. Or leave scratches. He might need to be on TV or something. I pulled on a pair of sweats and a t shirt and went out to the porch.
“Crumbs all over the table. I cleaned it up before we get ants,” B. J. said. He had changed his clothes also and held up two icy glasses.
“Jared came by with some sandwiches,” I told him, explaining the crumbs.
“Whoa! I was hearing all about him at lunch today. Coincidence, huh? D. J. was in town and we grabbed something at a deli. DGS. It's a good place. You should try it.” He sipped the cold vodka. “Ahhh!” he said with satisfaction. “D. J. says they're having problems.”
“Really?” I played innocent.
“Yes, really. He said Jared has turned into a pathological liar. Or maybe he never noticed it before. Or something … Anyway, he got all these fantasy stories about having sex with random people. D. J. doesn't know what to believe … Isn't that weird?”
“Well, at least he didn't announce he's engaged to the chick who works mornings at Subway.” I was sorry the minute I said it.
“Racer,” B. J. sounded weary. “Don't start ...”
B.J. promised that his engagement would change nothing, but of course things changed. He wasn't home every night and he always smelled of Susan when he did come home the next day. He didn't say anything, and I didn't ask; but obviously they were having a sexual relationship whether or not the marriage actually came off. He kept telling me it was only a maybe, nothing for sure.
“We haven't even set a date, Racer. All I can tell you is the PR guys say fan reaction is positive when we appear together at high school functions. It's not just the kids; trheir parents like us, too. We're positive role models.”
“High schoolers are your biggest fans?”
“No, but they're future fans and, as a couple, we say to the guys: be a football fan and you'll get laid a lot by someone like Sue.”
“So she's a big deal and you're not. Beauty and the Beast? Is that the scenario?”
“Kind of … I guess. I don't appeal to guys.”
“You do to me, B. J.”
He liked that and we had a great night together; but he didn't come home the next day. It wasn't so much that he didn't come home; he didn't even call. I know I'm sounding whiny about this, but when you're looking forward to a long night together and you just wait and wait …
George Brightwater called me the next day and I pretended I didn't understand him on the phone. I wanted something to do, like go see him. He didn't so much turn me on as just pay attention to me. Something B. J. wasn't doing.
“See, if you participate in the consortium, Racer, it gives you exposure to residential real estate as well as retail. In a safe way, of course.”
“Safeway? You sound like a grocery store. You got any pictures?”
“Sure. I made a slide presentation. Come on ...” He took me to a conference room I hadn't seen before and projected computer images onto a screen. The shots showed a rolling field and an animated grid of houses placed on it.
“Big houses, George. So close together ...”
“Yes, but arranged so they don't look into each others windows. That's what people want: mansions in the country without any of the countryside thy have to take care of. Oops!” A shot of one of Tommy Lynn's cars, the old Chevy, with somebody polishing it – just the way I polish it. “Sorry. Don't know how that got in here.”
“Somebody new take my car washing job?”
“It's YOU, dummy! Looking very good I might add. Hope you don't mind. Tommy Lynn had me get it blown up and mounted for his office.” George looked around as if somebody was listening and whispered, “I caught Euie looking at it and jacking off.”
The picture didn't look like me. It looked like somebody older. More mature. I told him so. He showed me a few other shots and, sure enough, it was me. I was naked, but the shots were almost G-rated. You had to look to notice it, and nothing much showed. Just me in profile, reaching across the hood and the roof of the Chevy. Ok, nude, but not lewd.
“You're not pissed, are you? I should have told you I was using my phone camera. It's just that one shot that Tommy Lynn really likes; I'll delete the rest.” I shrugged; worse things have happened. “That's it? That's your reaction?” George shook his head. “You're so laid back about everything, Racer. The first time somebody took a nudie of me I tried to kill him.”
“I got other stuff on my mind. B. J. is engaged.”
“Don't you mean B. J. and I are engaged?”
“He's engaged to this chick he works with. He says it's all bullshit for the press and public; but he's fuckin' her a lot.” That shut him up. He just looked at me and didn't know what to say. “Yeah, George, so here's my last check and the house deal sounds ok, if Tommy Lynn agrees.”
“Sure, Race ...” George sounded deflated, as if I had ruined his day.
I drove back to home and hated being alone, which was something new. I never used to mind a little solitude. Time to think. Time to plan. Time to arrange my life; but at this moment I wanted some company. Paul, or Otis, or B. J. Anybody, but not Jared.
“Hey, Racer! Is B. J. here?”
“He's in town working, Jared.”
“I texted him I was coming over. Brought a couple of sandwiches. You want his?” I nodded. “Inside or out?”
“Let's eat on the porch,” I said.
“You're looking very serious,” Jared noted as he spread out as array of sandwich pieces and a couple of Cokes. “B. J. likes mustard, but if you don't these ...” He pointed at two pieces of sub closer to him. “ … have mayo and vinaigrette on them. Some peppers are in the cup. I like 'em. B. J. doesn't.”
“I know. How do you know?”
“Sometimes I come over and we shoot the shit. Mostly about how HARD it is living with his brother. And I don't mean hard in a good way.”
“What does D. J. stand for?”
“He won't tell me. I'm fuckin' him regular and he won't even tell me his name. I lifted his wallet once and looked at his driver's license. No help. It just says D and J with quotation marks around them.” Ok, I admit it. He made me laugh. “And he's so fuckin' huge!”
“His dick?”
“No, I mean he's way taller than I am. His dick's average I guess. So if I'm kissing him, which he really likes, MY dick is poppin' out of his ass half the time. Which he ALSO likes. He likes it when our dicks rub together. I'm starting to think he only tolerates getting fucked so he can rub against my dick.”
I laughed again. “Do your red pubes turn him on?”
Jared had a mouth full he needed to swallow before he could answer. “I don't know. I'm not sure he knows what I look like. We do everything in total darkness. I've never seen him completely naked. Most of what I know about him depends on my sense of touch.”
Jared's domestic life story was improving my mood. “B. J. loves being naked,” I volunteered.
“I know,” Jared said and then regretted it. “I mean … well … there was a time when you were out of the picture … and ...”
“No need to explain.”
“You're lucky. I'm telling you B. J. is so uncomplicated compared to D. J.”
“You think? Then why did he get engaged to this chick Susan?”
“Engaged??? Really!! D. J. said he was working with somebody. That was all.” Jared shook his head in wonder. “Man, these Carteret dudes … And that other brother … T. J. … he's another head case. Or should I say he LIKES head. One time I was suckin' his dick and he groans, 'Oh, suck me, A. J.' That family is like one big queer ZOO!! And by the way DO NOT EVER let A. J. suck your dick.” Jared took another big bite of his sandwich and chewed carefully as if he had been discussing the weather.
I was amazed. “You've had the whole family?”
Jared swallowed and took a gulp of Coke. “Not the Mom.” He let out a small burp. “I gotta eat slower,” he said with emphasis and started stuffing what was left of lunch into the bag he brought it in. “A pass on the peppers? You want to keep them for later?”
“Thanks, no. I'm leaving in a couple of days. They'd go to waste.”
“Ok. And thanks, Racer. You always were level-headed. I think it helps to talk about these things.” He left, walking back toward the Subway, tossing the carefully-collected bag of trash into the street. Call me compulsive. I retrieved it and threw it in Mrs. Luckett's dumpster.
When in need, wash the truck, I always say; the work that was a pleasure for me. It required just enough attention to half engage my mind. This day the other half comtemplated the cluster-fuck that was the Carteret family. I should have asked him about the father. What had Jared done with the father?
While I was working a car I didn't know pulled in and the new guy, Lonnie, got out. I waved and said hey. He came over and introduced himself.
“Lonnie Calthorpe, with an 'e' on the end” he said. “I work in a warehouse this side of Charlottesville.”
We talked a little and then he went inside. He seemed perfectly normal, dressed maybe a little formally for a warehouseman; but so what? Not everybody has to be a slob. I was concluding Otis must have come to the wrong conclusion when he came out onto his doorstep to check his mail wearing a towel around his waist. Ok, I guess; nobody was around and he's be outside just a couple of seconds. He turned to go back inside and the towel fell to the step. He snatched it up and quickly went inside, without a glance at me. Ok, not your everyday event, flashing a nice ass at the world, but it could have been an accident. Right? Right???
I finished up the truck as B. J. pulled into the parking lot. He looked very handsome in what must have been a new suit. It was medium gray showing off his body just right. I followed him inside where he embraced me.
“I'm so glad to see you,” he said before kissing me. He didn't smell of Susan.
“Let me get cleaned up. I'm all dirty from the truck.”
“Ok, meet you on the porch.”
I did hurry. A quick shower and a shave – I didn't want to scrape my beard all over his face. Well, yes I did; but I didn't want it to hurt him. Or leave scratches. He might need to be on TV or something. I pulled on a pair of sweats and a t shirt and went out to the porch.
“Crumbs all over the table. I cleaned it up before we get ants,” B. J. said. He had changed his clothes also and held up two icy glasses.
“Jared came by with some sandwiches,” I told him, explaining the crumbs.
“Whoa! I was hearing all about him at lunch today. Coincidence, huh? D. J. was in town and we grabbed something at a deli. DGS. It's a good place. You should try it.” He sipped the cold vodka. “Ahhh!” he said with satisfaction. “D. J. says they're having problems.”
“Really?” I played innocent.
“Yes, really. He said Jared has turned into a pathological liar. Or maybe he never noticed it before. Or something … Anyway, he got all these fantasy stories about having sex with random people. D. J. doesn't know what to believe … Isn't that weird?”
“Well, at least he didn't announce he's engaged to the chick who works mornings at Subway.” I was sorry the minute I said it.
“Racer,” B. J. sounded weary. “Don't start ...”
- Joined
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Hmmm ...
INTERESTING Chapter!
So much going on! So many undercurrents! Swirling riptides!
'Tis getting complicated, but so is LIFE!
Excellent writing, Buddy!
THANK YOU! for this story! And ... MORE Please!!
Keep Smilin'!!
Chaz
INTERESTING Chapter!
So much going on! So many undercurrents! Swirling riptides!
'Tis getting complicated, but so is LIFE!
Excellent writing, Buddy!
THANK YOU! for this story! And ... MORE Please!!
Keep Smilin'!!
Chaz
So many twists and turns. It's a wonder Racer didn't have his way with George as lonely as he was feeling. He knows George adores him. The boy is getting backed up with B.J. occupied the way he is. It is a wonder Racer doesn't start taking on the world. More adventures to come I am sure. Great work, Rory, as always. Can't wait for the next chapter. Keep them coming.
The complicated life of BJ Carteret. And our poor Racer.
Thanks for the update, Rory.
Thanks for the update, Rory.
Craiger
JUB Addict
I'd almost forgotten about Jared, but boy, he seems quite busy supplying entertainment and service to the entire Carteret family. I hope the honeymoon isn't over for Racer and B.J. But as others have said, the twist and turns tend to lean that way. Interesting chapter, Rory. Thanks.
Craiger
Craiger
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Fifty - Memory Trouble
“Did you fuck me last night?” B. J. asked.
“Yes, don't you remember? After your third drink, we went to bed and ...”
“I remember that one. I'm asking did you fuck me again? Later? I feel so relaxed and loose and that's always how I feel after a great night.”
I held my breath while last night flashed through my head. After that third drink, B. J. was a little unsteady and he kept rambling on about Susan.
“I wish you wouldn't keep on about that, Racer. I mean she's not your competition or anything.” He stumbled as I guided him toward the bedroom.
“You sure you don't want something to eat?” I asked him.
“Just you … Come on ...” he teased as he sat on the bed and tried to take his shoes off. I helped him with his shoes but he refused any more assistance. “Hurry up and take your shower,” he shooed me away.
I did or tried to. Cleaning vehicles leaves a special kind of dirt behind. It's sticky and hard to get off. By the time I got back to the room B. J. was lying face down and naked. His clothes were in a pile at the side of the bed. I picked them up and put them on a chair.
“Hurry up, Race,” B. J. muttered into his pillow. “How about a back rub?”
Our backrubs always led to fuck finales and this was no exception, except B. J. was unresponsive. After I came I asked him how it was and he just hummed a little. No words. It took a while to figure out that he was asleep. That was a first.
I got up and went into the kitchen looking for something to drink. There wasn't much, so I added an ice cube to the remains of my drink and sipped that. B. J. may not have been hungry but I was - starving, to be precise, and wondering what to do about it. A knock on the door reminded me that I was still naked and probably smelling of sex. I dashed to the bedroom and jumped into a pair of jeans before answering the door.
“Racer? I was wondering if you wanted to grab something in the way of dinner.”
“Lonnie, come on in … er, I was just cleaning up a little.”
“And your fly is half undone ...” he chuckled.
“Yeah, I just grabbed these ...”
“Wow! You clean naked, too? I always to clean house naked. It saves getting clean clothes all dirty and then have to wash THEM, too!”
“No ... er, I … My boyfriend got home and ...”
“Oh my God! Did I interrupt? I'm so sorry,” He made a move to leave.
“No, we're … um, done, I guess. He's asleep and I'm hungry. Give me a minute and I'll meet you in the parking lot.” More like five minutes later, I met him in the parking lot.
“So there's a Subway … cute redhead works there, I discovered ...”
“Right. Jared. I feel like more than a sandwich. What about the Black Bear?”
“I don't know it. I'm new in town.”
“It's pretty good and we're early. The dressier people don't go iuntil after eight.”
“Dressy? Like we're almost on a date or something.” Lonnie sounded more excited by his prospects than I wanted him to be.
“Not a date … just dinner. They have sandwiches if that's what you want. I'm thinking a shrimp po' boy and a salad might do it for me.”
“Sure. Sounds ok.” Now Lonnie sounded more subdued than I expected.
“Have you met Vince? Your next door neighbor?” I asked to make conversation while we walked down Main Street to the Black Bear.
“No, but I know who you mean. I met a friend of his, a funny kid, well, not a kid, really … who stays there sometimes.”
“Otis.”
“He's … unusual.”
“He's dead. You won't be seeing him anymore. Did you hear the news about that murder at an old farm house?”
“No! Really? That was Otis?”
“I liked him a lot. He was a real good friend.” I wanted to make sure he knew I didn't want to hear anything bad about Otis.
“I know. He was impressive,” Lonnie answered and I couldn't detect any irony in his words.
We sat ordered. I got the shrimp po' boy and Lonnie got what he called the biggest burger he'd ever seen with bacon, cole slaw, and french fries on top. We ate in silence for a while until the hunger pangs had been sated and then relaxed.
“Racer, you and Otis were good friends?”
“Yes.”
“So was he ...gay?”
“Not exactly. He loved some men and women and he had sex with them; he loved other men and women and he didn't.”
“He had sex with me.”
I tried to hide my surprise. “Then he must have liked you.”
“I don't know about that. He made me do things … I mean we did things I'd never done before – things I never even thought about doing - and he showed me how to enjoy them; but he never said he liked me.”
“I don't know what you mean.”
“I'm from a small town. A REAL small town. And I'd heard about stuff … but I'd never done it … there was nobody to do it with … well, nobody who wasn't super creepy and old … And Otis was so different … He just said, 'Show me your penis,' and I was so shocked I did and the next thing I knew ...” Lonnie lowered his already quiet voice to a whisper. “He sucked my cock.”
I laughed out loud. It was so like Otis. In my head I could hear him saying 'Show me your penis'. Lonnie looked alarmed.
“What did I say? Is something wrong.”
“No, nothing's wrong. You got the full Otis. That sounds SO LIKE him.”
“He goes around sucking random dicks.”
“Went around,” I corrected him. “Kind of … He acted on impulse. Always good-natured. Never mean or anything. But he just came right out with stuff, stuff it would take other people weeks to work their way up to. But once you got used to him … he cut right through a lot of bullshit.” I got a little misty thinking about Otis and Lonnie noticed.
“Do you want to talk about something else?”
“No. I'm really glad to talk about him. I haven't had the chance to. B. J. was just getting to know him.”
“B. J. is your …?”
I nodded. “Boy friend.” We ate more slowly. I told Lonnie more about Otis and he told me more about his hometown, Arch, Kentucky, named either after a scenic wonder of nature or the coal mining company that owned the whole place including the scenic wonder – nobody was sure.
“Warrenton isn't so different really. Just more traffic.”
“What! It's huge different! It's another universe! And Washington!”
“Just minutes away, if you go at four in the morning.”
“There's nobody like you in Arch,” Lonnie said abruptly. “And nobody like Otis, either.”
We got back to our apartments and said goodnight and let's do it again, that kind of stuff. I was about to go inside when Lonnie put his hand on my sleeve. “Want to come in?”
“Lonnie, not tonight, ok? I have stuff going on in my life that ...” I stopped explaining and he didn't ask.
So I went inside and thought about the night while I cleaned up the kitchen. And I thought about Otis. And about Otis sucking off Lonnie. Was that all they did? I crawled into bed and heard B. J. grunt at my intrusion into whatever he was dreaming about. I had a feeling it wasn't me. I gently felt his soft cock. He grunted again and rolled over. I snuggled up with him and pressed my cock against his warm, soft ass triggering the start of an erection. The urge to fuck him was powerful. “You awake?” I whispered. No response. “B. J.?” I whispered. Still nothing. His ass would still be slick from out first fuck a couple hours ago that seemed like days ago. I probed a little. He rolled onto his stomach and spread his legs. I didn't wait. I shoved it right in. He grunted twice and then relaxed. I fucked him fast and hard. It had to wake him up. I was giving him my full length on every thrust. “Racer,” he sighed at one point.
At least he knew who was fucking him, even if details missing the next morning.
“I'm asking did you fuck me again? Later?” He repeated his question.
“Yes. I got something to eat and then I got back into bed and ...”
He gave me that smile of his that made my knees go weak. “I knew it. Man, I just had that feeling in my butt this morning. You got me all churned up.” He pulled me to him and kissed me. “There's nobody like you, Race.” I felt great until I watched him grab an armful of hangers full of clothes out of the closet. “This is stuff I only wear in town. Might as well take it to Susan's place.”
When he left I looked carefully into the closet. It wasn't a big closet. My half was full; about half of his half was empty. I went to the window and watched him smiling his just-been-fucked smile as he loaded the clothes and drove away.
“Did you fuck me last night?” B. J. asked.
“Yes, don't you remember? After your third drink, we went to bed and ...”
“I remember that one. I'm asking did you fuck me again? Later? I feel so relaxed and loose and that's always how I feel after a great night.”
I held my breath while last night flashed through my head. After that third drink, B. J. was a little unsteady and he kept rambling on about Susan.
“I wish you wouldn't keep on about that, Racer. I mean she's not your competition or anything.” He stumbled as I guided him toward the bedroom.
“You sure you don't want something to eat?” I asked him.
“Just you … Come on ...” he teased as he sat on the bed and tried to take his shoes off. I helped him with his shoes but he refused any more assistance. “Hurry up and take your shower,” he shooed me away.
I did or tried to. Cleaning vehicles leaves a special kind of dirt behind. It's sticky and hard to get off. By the time I got back to the room B. J. was lying face down and naked. His clothes were in a pile at the side of the bed. I picked them up and put them on a chair.
“Hurry up, Race,” B. J. muttered into his pillow. “How about a back rub?”
Our backrubs always led to fuck finales and this was no exception, except B. J. was unresponsive. After I came I asked him how it was and he just hummed a little. No words. It took a while to figure out that he was asleep. That was a first.
I got up and went into the kitchen looking for something to drink. There wasn't much, so I added an ice cube to the remains of my drink and sipped that. B. J. may not have been hungry but I was - starving, to be precise, and wondering what to do about it. A knock on the door reminded me that I was still naked and probably smelling of sex. I dashed to the bedroom and jumped into a pair of jeans before answering the door.
“Racer? I was wondering if you wanted to grab something in the way of dinner.”
“Lonnie, come on in … er, I was just cleaning up a little.”
“And your fly is half undone ...” he chuckled.
“Yeah, I just grabbed these ...”
“Wow! You clean naked, too? I always to clean house naked. It saves getting clean clothes all dirty and then have to wash THEM, too!”
“No ... er, I … My boyfriend got home and ...”
“Oh my God! Did I interrupt? I'm so sorry,” He made a move to leave.
“No, we're … um, done, I guess. He's asleep and I'm hungry. Give me a minute and I'll meet you in the parking lot.” More like five minutes later, I met him in the parking lot.
“So there's a Subway … cute redhead works there, I discovered ...”
“Right. Jared. I feel like more than a sandwich. What about the Black Bear?”
“I don't know it. I'm new in town.”
“It's pretty good and we're early. The dressier people don't go iuntil after eight.”
“Dressy? Like we're almost on a date or something.” Lonnie sounded more excited by his prospects than I wanted him to be.
“Not a date … just dinner. They have sandwiches if that's what you want. I'm thinking a shrimp po' boy and a salad might do it for me.”
“Sure. Sounds ok.” Now Lonnie sounded more subdued than I expected.
“Have you met Vince? Your next door neighbor?” I asked to make conversation while we walked down Main Street to the Black Bear.
“No, but I know who you mean. I met a friend of his, a funny kid, well, not a kid, really … who stays there sometimes.”
“Otis.”
“He's … unusual.”
“He's dead. You won't be seeing him anymore. Did you hear the news about that murder at an old farm house?”
“No! Really? That was Otis?”
“I liked him a lot. He was a real good friend.” I wanted to make sure he knew I didn't want to hear anything bad about Otis.
“I know. He was impressive,” Lonnie answered and I couldn't detect any irony in his words.
We sat ordered. I got the shrimp po' boy and Lonnie got what he called the biggest burger he'd ever seen with bacon, cole slaw, and french fries on top. We ate in silence for a while until the hunger pangs had been sated and then relaxed.
“Racer, you and Otis were good friends?”
“Yes.”
“So was he ...gay?”
“Not exactly. He loved some men and women and he had sex with them; he loved other men and women and he didn't.”
“He had sex with me.”
I tried to hide my surprise. “Then he must have liked you.”
“I don't know about that. He made me do things … I mean we did things I'd never done before – things I never even thought about doing - and he showed me how to enjoy them; but he never said he liked me.”
“I don't know what you mean.”
“I'm from a small town. A REAL small town. And I'd heard about stuff … but I'd never done it … there was nobody to do it with … well, nobody who wasn't super creepy and old … And Otis was so different … He just said, 'Show me your penis,' and I was so shocked I did and the next thing I knew ...” Lonnie lowered his already quiet voice to a whisper. “He sucked my cock.”
I laughed out loud. It was so like Otis. In my head I could hear him saying 'Show me your penis'. Lonnie looked alarmed.
“What did I say? Is something wrong.”
“No, nothing's wrong. You got the full Otis. That sounds SO LIKE him.”
“He goes around sucking random dicks.”
“Went around,” I corrected him. “Kind of … He acted on impulse. Always good-natured. Never mean or anything. But he just came right out with stuff, stuff it would take other people weeks to work their way up to. But once you got used to him … he cut right through a lot of bullshit.” I got a little misty thinking about Otis and Lonnie noticed.
“Do you want to talk about something else?”
“No. I'm really glad to talk about him. I haven't had the chance to. B. J. was just getting to know him.”
“B. J. is your …?”
I nodded. “Boy friend.” We ate more slowly. I told Lonnie more about Otis and he told me more about his hometown, Arch, Kentucky, named either after a scenic wonder of nature or the coal mining company that owned the whole place including the scenic wonder – nobody was sure.
“Warrenton isn't so different really. Just more traffic.”
“What! It's huge different! It's another universe! And Washington!”
“Just minutes away, if you go at four in the morning.”
“There's nobody like you in Arch,” Lonnie said abruptly. “And nobody like Otis, either.”
We got back to our apartments and said goodnight and let's do it again, that kind of stuff. I was about to go inside when Lonnie put his hand on my sleeve. “Want to come in?”
“Lonnie, not tonight, ok? I have stuff going on in my life that ...” I stopped explaining and he didn't ask.
So I went inside and thought about the night while I cleaned up the kitchen. And I thought about Otis. And about Otis sucking off Lonnie. Was that all they did? I crawled into bed and heard B. J. grunt at my intrusion into whatever he was dreaming about. I had a feeling it wasn't me. I gently felt his soft cock. He grunted again and rolled over. I snuggled up with him and pressed my cock against his warm, soft ass triggering the start of an erection. The urge to fuck him was powerful. “You awake?” I whispered. No response. “B. J.?” I whispered. Still nothing. His ass would still be slick from out first fuck a couple hours ago that seemed like days ago. I probed a little. He rolled onto his stomach and spread his legs. I didn't wait. I shoved it right in. He grunted twice and then relaxed. I fucked him fast and hard. It had to wake him up. I was giving him my full length on every thrust. “Racer,” he sighed at one point.
At least he knew who was fucking him, even if details missing the next morning.
“I'm asking did you fuck me again? Later?” He repeated his question.
“Yes. I got something to eat and then I got back into bed and ...”
He gave me that smile of his that made my knees go weak. “I knew it. Man, I just had that feeling in my butt this morning. You got me all churned up.” He pulled me to him and kissed me. “There's nobody like you, Race.” I felt great until I watched him grab an armful of hangers full of clothes out of the closet. “This is stuff I only wear in town. Might as well take it to Susan's place.”
When he left I looked carefully into the closet. It wasn't a big closet. My half was full; about half of his half was empty. I went to the window and watched him smiling his just-been-fucked smile as he loaded the clothes and drove away.
- Joined
- Oct 9, 2004
- Posts
- 60,885
- Reaction score
- 114,487
- Points
- 113
Hmmmm ... Uh ... Hmmmm ...
I enjoyed reading more about Otis. Yes, I miss him, too. 
As for everything else, my brain is reeling through all the scenarios that might follow. So many possibilities ... I'm not sure where I would take it, if I were the author.
However, YOU are the one with the magic fingers on this one, Buddy!
Eagerly awaiting More!
Keep Smilin'!!
Chaz
(I'm thinking BJ is dumber than a brick! )
I enjoyed reading more about Otis. Yes, I miss him, too.
As for everything else, my brain is reeling through all the scenarios that might follow. So many possibilities ... I'm not sure where I would take it, if I were the author.
However, YOU are the one with the magic fingers on this one, Buddy!
Eagerly awaiting More!
Keep Smilin'!!
Chaz
(I'm thinking BJ is dumber than a brick!
)