EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Sixty-Eight - Fenders
Late last night I heard Latham come in late, after three, according to my phone display. I felt the relief a parent must feel when the kid finally gets home. It's not like he's sixteen or something. It's not like it's his first night out. It's not like he's an innocent babe in the woods; but I still worry. I can't forget that he basically pimped himself out to Todd Hinkley and that's not a situation you just slip into by accident. Todd was one creepy dude; he's still creepy as a drag queen although I have to admit he's less intimidating wearing false eyelashes and boobs. Still, I was glad and relieved when I heard him come in. Not drunk. Not stoned. I'm guessing this because he went quietly to bed without stumbling around or making noise.
This morning I lay in bed as the sun rose higher thinking about Todd Hinkley's's new boobs. Is there such a thing as a tasteful boob choice? Say yes to the dress and bingo to the boobs? Tolstoy was no help with this question; he felt all representation of style was learned behavior. If you can learn about the right household furnishings I guess you can learn about the right boob size to sport.
Todd's were nice. If he had been a real girl I think he could have pulled off sultry pretty well. I could imagine wanting to touch him as a her. Even my dick was responding a little to my thoughts of Todd and the movie in my head hadn't even gone past the touching part.
JEEZ! Todd Hinkley! I got out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Latham was still sleeping, but was awake went I came out. A piss and a shower had deflated my dick, so I just laughed at Latham's whistle, calling attention to my nakedness. Nice of him to notice. I dressed and walked to the kitchen.
“Leave tomorrow, I guess,” I mentioned to him. “Back to Atlanta.”
“Yep,” was his only asnwer.
I drank some juice and made some coffee while he took his turn in the bathroom. He came into the kitchen looking fresh, no hangover or any other trace of last night. I wanted to, but I didn't ask what he had been up to.
“I'm going to get my assignments,” he said as he left for school. “I'll be back early if there's anything you want done before we leave.” I watched him walk out to his truck. He's not as slim as he was when I first met him; the couple of added pounds looked good on him.
I went to Tommy Lynn's for some cash for the trip and George greeted me rudely. “Racer, you been fuckin' my boy?” I guess my hesitation gave the answer away. “I knew it!”
“How do you KNOW it?” I challenged.
“Because he has trimmed his pubes to look exactly like yours and there isn't an artistic impulse in his body! How else would he know how YOUR pubes look?”
“Because he saw me swimming in Goose Creek? By the way, no fifties this time. They attract too much attention.”
“Why don't you just use a credit card like everyone else? And no changing the subject!”
“So he's lookin' good, huh?”
“Yes, The shorter pubes really make his balls look ... Oh, for fuck sake. I should just give up. You've had every available man and boy in Faquier County, why not Richie, too?”
“Not true, George. Not true at all.” I counted the cash he had given me. “Thanks. We're doin' Atlanta again. Be back in three weeks.”
“Mac and Euie have the same pube trim.”
“So do you, George. You can't blame me for everyrthing.” His eyes popped wide.
“How do you know that? We haven't ... ”
“Just a guess. You want a kiss goodbye?” I was joking.
“Yes,” he said. I kissed my palm and blew him one. He laughed; I was forgiven.
I went back to my apartment and contemplated doing laundry before the trip. That was depressing. Why is doing laundry such a pain in the ass? If I bought some new sox and underwear in Atlanta I could probably get by with what I had that was clean. A year ago I couldn't have afforded that option. And I DO have a credit card. I just don't use it for routine stuff. George says I should use it for everything - it helps to track expenses – but I don't actually spend all that much, so what's the point?
“Racer?” I didn't recognize the voice coming through the screen door. “You home?”
“Buddy! Hey, come in.”
“Be right back. I got your chair in the van.” He declined my offer to help and returned with the banker's chair, as he called it. “Here you are. It turned out we had one ready at the workshop.” He put it on the floor and I rolled it over to the desk. “I met your friend Latham last night. We had a couple drinks.”
“Yeah?” Now that was intriguing. Why would Latham and Buddy be getting together?
“Richard was there, too,” Buddy was quick to add. Maybe too quick, like he thougth I'd be annoyed. “And another guy ... Don something. A few drinks a few laughs, you know. Latham's impressive.” Impressive, hmmm. Not the word I would have chosen to describe him. “Workin', going to school, keepin' out of trouble ... Stuff I've never been good at.”
“I bet you could be good at it.” A little flattery; I really didn't know anything about Buddy, except that he went from being almost gay-hostile to liking it in near record time.
“Will doesn't think so.”
“Will's a college guy. He doesn't understand.”
“You know, you're absolutely right. He has no idea about us poor, dumb rednecks.”
“You're not dumb,” I told him, which was more flattery; I had no idea.
“I'm not, you know? I just ... I just ...”
“Went to a shitty public school like me and didn't get much out of it.”
A smile spread over Buddy's face. “You know, you're right. Again. I just said that, didn't I?” He blushed unguardedly and suddenly looked much younger than I thought he was. “You know, Latham is thinking of going to college.”
I didn't know that; I pretended I did. “Sure, why not?”
“If he can do it, I could to, right? If I saved some money ... and worked harder ... Well, anyway, 'nuff of that. I'll come back tomorrow and oil the chair for you.”
“Leaving for Atlanta in the morning.”
“Really? Latham didn't say nothin' about that.” He shuffled around. “I was lookin' forward to it.” He looked me in the eye and then looked down at the floor. “I was kinda hopin' ... you know ... we might could ... you know ... again.” He stole a glance at me and then looked down and took a step forward, making us not very far apart. “If you wanted to ...” I could feel the heat coming off of him. Hell, yes, I wanted to. I leaned a little toward him and took a deep breath as his hand tentatively touched my shorts. We jumped apart at the sound of footsteps.
“Whoa! Hot one out there!” Latham said fanning his face as he came in the screen door. “Buddy! You feelin' good after last night?” Buddy's admission that he had had a drink or two too many provided a good excuse for his blushing over being caught in what was nearly 'flagrante delicto'. I could see signs of his erection, but Latham either couldn't or ignored it. “New chair!” Latham said, proceeding right to the desk.
“Buddy just delivered it,” I said.
“Awesome,” Latham allowed, sitting down and pulling himself up to the desk. He approved of the chair. “Just right. Perfect, in fact.” He turned on the desk lamp and it shined partly on Buddy. Was that a wet spot on the front of Buddy's jeans? Maybe, but it could have just been a shadow or something.
“Uh ... I guess I'll be going,” Buddy said. “Nice seeing you again, Latham. Racer, call when you get back into town. I'll oil the chair for you.” I thanked him and said good bye at the door.
“I only met him last night, but I got the feeling he'd like to be oiling YOU, not the chair!” Latham joked. “Not you personally, Racer. I mean he seemed like he's desperate to jump anybody.”
“He called you 'impressive'.”
“Oh ... wow ... I shouldn't have said that about him, huh? Impressive? He really said that? Wow ... So, uh, I need to do some clothes before we go. You, too? You want to head over to the laundromat?” Suddenly the idea of doing my laundry was much more appealing. “And maybe we can talk about school a little?” He raised his eyebrows in a question.
Have you ever known a person who can lift your spirits just by walking into the room? Someone who makes ordinary things extraordinary? Someone who can make you smile just by being there? Latham's like that.
Late last night I heard Latham come in late, after three, according to my phone display. I felt the relief a parent must feel when the kid finally gets home. It's not like he's sixteen or something. It's not like it's his first night out. It's not like he's an innocent babe in the woods; but I still worry. I can't forget that he basically pimped himself out to Todd Hinkley and that's not a situation you just slip into by accident. Todd was one creepy dude; he's still creepy as a drag queen although I have to admit he's less intimidating wearing false eyelashes and boobs. Still, I was glad and relieved when I heard him come in. Not drunk. Not stoned. I'm guessing this because he went quietly to bed without stumbling around or making noise.
This morning I lay in bed as the sun rose higher thinking about Todd Hinkley's's new boobs. Is there such a thing as a tasteful boob choice? Say yes to the dress and bingo to the boobs? Tolstoy was no help with this question; he felt all representation of style was learned behavior. If you can learn about the right household furnishings I guess you can learn about the right boob size to sport.
Todd's were nice. If he had been a real girl I think he could have pulled off sultry pretty well. I could imagine wanting to touch him as a her. Even my dick was responding a little to my thoughts of Todd and the movie in my head hadn't even gone past the touching part.
JEEZ! Todd Hinkley! I got out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Latham was still sleeping, but was awake went I came out. A piss and a shower had deflated my dick, so I just laughed at Latham's whistle, calling attention to my nakedness. Nice of him to notice. I dressed and walked to the kitchen.
“Leave tomorrow, I guess,” I mentioned to him. “Back to Atlanta.”
“Yep,” was his only asnwer.
I drank some juice and made some coffee while he took his turn in the bathroom. He came into the kitchen looking fresh, no hangover or any other trace of last night. I wanted to, but I didn't ask what he had been up to.
“I'm going to get my assignments,” he said as he left for school. “I'll be back early if there's anything you want done before we leave.” I watched him walk out to his truck. He's not as slim as he was when I first met him; the couple of added pounds looked good on him.
I went to Tommy Lynn's for some cash for the trip and George greeted me rudely. “Racer, you been fuckin' my boy?” I guess my hesitation gave the answer away. “I knew it!”
“How do you KNOW it?” I challenged.
“Because he has trimmed his pubes to look exactly like yours and there isn't an artistic impulse in his body! How else would he know how YOUR pubes look?”
“Because he saw me swimming in Goose Creek? By the way, no fifties this time. They attract too much attention.”
“Why don't you just use a credit card like everyone else? And no changing the subject!”
“So he's lookin' good, huh?”
“Yes, The shorter pubes really make his balls look ... Oh, for fuck sake. I should just give up. You've had every available man and boy in Faquier County, why not Richie, too?”
“Not true, George. Not true at all.” I counted the cash he had given me. “Thanks. We're doin' Atlanta again. Be back in three weeks.”
“Mac and Euie have the same pube trim.”
“So do you, George. You can't blame me for everyrthing.” His eyes popped wide.
“How do you know that? We haven't ... ”
“Just a guess. You want a kiss goodbye?” I was joking.
“Yes,” he said. I kissed my palm and blew him one. He laughed; I was forgiven.
I went back to my apartment and contemplated doing laundry before the trip. That was depressing. Why is doing laundry such a pain in the ass? If I bought some new sox and underwear in Atlanta I could probably get by with what I had that was clean. A year ago I couldn't have afforded that option. And I DO have a credit card. I just don't use it for routine stuff. George says I should use it for everything - it helps to track expenses – but I don't actually spend all that much, so what's the point?
“Racer?” I didn't recognize the voice coming through the screen door. “You home?”
“Buddy! Hey, come in.”
“Be right back. I got your chair in the van.” He declined my offer to help and returned with the banker's chair, as he called it. “Here you are. It turned out we had one ready at the workshop.” He put it on the floor and I rolled it over to the desk. “I met your friend Latham last night. We had a couple drinks.”
“Yeah?” Now that was intriguing. Why would Latham and Buddy be getting together?
“Richard was there, too,” Buddy was quick to add. Maybe too quick, like he thougth I'd be annoyed. “And another guy ... Don something. A few drinks a few laughs, you know. Latham's impressive.” Impressive, hmmm. Not the word I would have chosen to describe him. “Workin', going to school, keepin' out of trouble ... Stuff I've never been good at.”
“I bet you could be good at it.” A little flattery; I really didn't know anything about Buddy, except that he went from being almost gay-hostile to liking it in near record time.
“Will doesn't think so.”
“Will's a college guy. He doesn't understand.”
“You know, you're absolutely right. He has no idea about us poor, dumb rednecks.”
“You're not dumb,” I told him, which was more flattery; I had no idea.
“I'm not, you know? I just ... I just ...”
“Went to a shitty public school like me and didn't get much out of it.”
A smile spread over Buddy's face. “You know, you're right. Again. I just said that, didn't I?” He blushed unguardedly and suddenly looked much younger than I thought he was. “You know, Latham is thinking of going to college.”
I didn't know that; I pretended I did. “Sure, why not?”
“If he can do it, I could to, right? If I saved some money ... and worked harder ... Well, anyway, 'nuff of that. I'll come back tomorrow and oil the chair for you.”
“Leaving for Atlanta in the morning.”
“Really? Latham didn't say nothin' about that.” He shuffled around. “I was lookin' forward to it.” He looked me in the eye and then looked down at the floor. “I was kinda hopin' ... you know ... we might could ... you know ... again.” He stole a glance at me and then looked down and took a step forward, making us not very far apart. “If you wanted to ...” I could feel the heat coming off of him. Hell, yes, I wanted to. I leaned a little toward him and took a deep breath as his hand tentatively touched my shorts. We jumped apart at the sound of footsteps.
“Whoa! Hot one out there!” Latham said fanning his face as he came in the screen door. “Buddy! You feelin' good after last night?” Buddy's admission that he had had a drink or two too many provided a good excuse for his blushing over being caught in what was nearly 'flagrante delicto'. I could see signs of his erection, but Latham either couldn't or ignored it. “New chair!” Latham said, proceeding right to the desk.
“Buddy just delivered it,” I said.
“Awesome,” Latham allowed, sitting down and pulling himself up to the desk. He approved of the chair. “Just right. Perfect, in fact.” He turned on the desk lamp and it shined partly on Buddy. Was that a wet spot on the front of Buddy's jeans? Maybe, but it could have just been a shadow or something.
“Uh ... I guess I'll be going,” Buddy said. “Nice seeing you again, Latham. Racer, call when you get back into town. I'll oil the chair for you.” I thanked him and said good bye at the door.
“I only met him last night, but I got the feeling he'd like to be oiling YOU, not the chair!” Latham joked. “Not you personally, Racer. I mean he seemed like he's desperate to jump anybody.”
“He called you 'impressive'.”
“Oh ... wow ... I shouldn't have said that about him, huh? Impressive? He really said that? Wow ... So, uh, I need to do some clothes before we go. You, too? You want to head over to the laundromat?” Suddenly the idea of doing my laundry was much more appealing. “And maybe we can talk about school a little?” He raised his eyebrows in a question.
Have you ever known a person who can lift your spirits just by walking into the room? Someone who makes ordinary things extraordinary? Someone who can make you smile just by being there? Latham's like that.
