That night after having his hole so thoroughly stretched by the massage therapist Mark showered and went to bed alone but very much thinking about Oliver. They had sent a few text messages back and forth, an escalation of teasing and flirtation that had him falling asleep with his cum covered dick on one hand and his phone in the other as he relived and attempted to memorize everything that had been done to him. A few times he’d slip a finger down to his hole just to see if it had regained its shape, it did but he didn’t feel the same.
Never before had his body been pushed so far, his senses maximized. And the way Brad used him afterwards, fucked his throat. If he closed his eyes he could still smell the sweat of him, his nuts resting on his upper lip. He had been tempted to ask the man to stay. He wanted a warm body in his bed, someone to cuddle with and talk to, whisper in his ear and maybe play with, but the man showed no interest as they sat on the couch together. It was done. He had gotten what he wanted.
The energy in the room was different. Something had been accomplished, something had been gained. He wanted to know more but at the same time he didn’t because it wasn’t much different than an anonymous hookup from an app or some guy he met at a bar or a club.
Did the man have someone at home? Was he paid for the service? Mark didn’t ask any of those questions and decided to be content with the experience. He watched the man carefully after he finished his beer and got up to find his clothes, the way his muscles moved and his skin stretched as he cleaned all of the dildos in the sink and put everything in his bag. He walked him to the door and that was it.
The next morning he awoke with morning wood like few times ever in his life. It wasn’t just the biological action of his body, the effect of needing to pee, no he was horny and wanting someone, something. He rolled onto his back and tugged one out quickly before going to the shower. Sex was on his mind as he got ready, as he ate breakfast, as he drove to work, and even as he sat down at his desk. A lust had been awakened in him, a lust that had been dormant since college when he thought he realized reality couldn’t live up to fantasy. And he started feeling the things other people told him to feel about monogamy and romance, tried to live out those stories that ended with marriage and a happily ever after. Those ideals had always felt like a lie to him, an impossible, impractical standard. Oliver was different, he had made fantasy into reality, given him sexual experiences not just between the two of them but with other men, scenarios and roles that he always thought he would have to connive out of a partner with some kind of wish list.
Work through the morning was a breeze, a few calls, a few emails, while looking up people on the rolodex of his phone. He didn’t sell one car by lunch but he was okay with that so he took a deep breath, let his erection subside, and headed out for a bite to eat feeling confident and a little cheeky. Instead of going to his usual place he went to his reward spot and ordered his favorite food, a casual sit down restaurant known for its quick service. And for Mark it's cute waiters, young men in form fitting slacks.
Normally he’d sit and drool over the thought of taking one of them over the table and pounding them until he had an orgasm but that day he had not just the opposite fantasy but a more elaborate one, taking all of the waiters, being tied down with his tie and used by each of them in turn. They’d run a train on him until his hole was dripping and sore, that would be good, he thought. He was half in fantasy when he got a text message from Oliver.
[How are you feeling?]
He grinned at the message and looked around to make sure he couldn’t recognize anyone then held the phone close and wrote out a response.
[That was amazing. Brad was a very thorough professional. I can’t believe all the things he did to me. I’ve never been used like that. I’m on Cloud Nine right now.]
He realized he had been holding his breath and exhaled, then focused on his breathing as he waited for a response.
[I’m glad you don’t have any regrets. Are you up for some more?]
Mark had an erection again and when he noticed the waiter was headed his way looking to clear his plate he waved the man off and looked around to make sure no one was watching him before entering a response.
[I’m up for anything. In fact I’m having a fantasy right now about these guys at this restaurant I’m at for lunch.]
[Are they doing bad things to you?]
[Very bad. All of them at the same time.]
[Good to hear you’re starting to think creatively, but we’re not there yet.]
His mood sunk a little at the comment. Just what was he ready for? What did Oliver have planned for him? He bit his lip and sent back a text asking. He didn’t have to wait long before getting a response.
[You looked cute in that suit and tie you wear. I’m guessing you’ve got a half dozen shirts, a couple pair of slacks. But maybe you need a new suit? Go to my personal tailor, a friend of mine, Q&A Fashion. I’ll let them know to be expecting you after work. Make sure to wear clean underwear.]
A new suit? Clean underwear? Mark felt his hard dick twitch at the thought of it, move enough to feel the slime trail of his leaking dick in his underwear. Well, there goes my clean briefs, he thought. He bit his lip and a moment later he received a text with the address and directions, he read over it a few times, especially the part that said “park around back and enter through rear” because even that was stirring his imagination. He groaned at the thought of going back to work, another few hours of trying to sell cars before he’d be able to go. But everything had a cost and he figured he might as well get it over with so he called for the bill.
Back at work Mark made his way to his desk, checked his email, checked his messages and found a few potential customers looking to make appointments for the next couple of days. He checked his schedule, replied to the emails, called back the few that had left messages. He looked to the door hoping someone would walk through because he had a few leads but nothing too promising, nothing as good as a sale right then, but he was disappointed when Cody stepped into his vision with a grin on his face.
“Good day?” Mark asked.
“Awesome, just made a sale while you were at lunch.”
“Trying to make me look lazy?”
“I don’t have to try,” Cody replied, “you do it yourself.”
“Very funny, so what, you sold a car while I was out. One of your regulars?”
“No, that’s the best part. He came in looking for you.”
“What?”
Mark reeled at the thought of Cody stealing one of his clients. He crossed his arms and looked to the other man with narrowed, serious eyes.
“In the half hour I was gone you made a sale?”
Cody’s serious face broke into laughter.
“No, I’m just messing with you. It wasn’t one of yours but yeah, I got him in talking to the finance manager right now to figure out a payment schedule. But it’s all good, I mean you tried to steal one of mine anyway.”
“What? Who?”
“Oliver,” Cody replied, “I know you took him for a test drive.”
The test drive? How it all started, that, he was Cody’s? Mark shrugged off the accusation. Even if it were true it still led to the best time of his life.
“Yeah well,” Mark replied.
“It’s all good. We sell cars. It’s not like a committed relationship. But next time, just know, you’re out of the office and someone walks through the door I’ll be on him. I’ll close the deal whatever it takes.”
Mark thought about Cody doing whatever it takes, running naked around an abandoned airport, driving naked back to the dealership, sucking Oliver off in the car even if it didn’t lead to a sale right then, and he chuckled.
“Think it’s funny? Well it’ll be your ass,” Cody said before walking away.
Your ass, Mark thought, and laughed again to himself. And for the rest of the day Mark kept himself busy doing little things while he kept one eye on the door, occasionally he’d see Cody and he’d think, your ass and smirk to himself, but when it came time to leave he was quick to clear his desk and leave. He put the address in his phone, connected that to his car, then drove.
An hour later, in a section of town he didn’t visit often, Mark took note of the nearby restaurants and bars as he found the place and a nearby parking garage. He walked the half block back to the front door and paused for a moment. Was Oliver serious about using the back entrance? He looked up at the sign. It had to be the same place, and yet, he thought about it, Oliver hadn’t misled him so far. He let go of the door handle and walked around the side of the building, down the alley and to the back of the building where he found an ornate wooden door.
Classy, he thought to himself before he pulled it open and stepped through. An aroma of wood and leather overwhelmed him for a moment as he looked around at what seemed to be an ordinary men’s clothing store: a couple racks of jackets, a display for slacks, against the far wall a shirt display, and even a display for underwear, a mix of classy boxers and those new briefs with the stretchy, clinging fabric. A few men browsed through the clothes, mostly middle aged, one of them with his much younger boyfriend. Mark spotted the register and the well dressed cashier behind it ringing up a purchase for one of the men. He took a moment to look from wall to wall before he noticed that there were no front windows.
This part of the store was separate from the front part of the store. He looked to the man behind the register who noticed him in return and gave a curious tilt of his head then looked away suddenly self-conscious and nervous. He started to move his feet, slowly he walked further into the store to one of the racks and began look over the jackets. He noticed the man who had just checked out walk by him and look him over. He looked back, noted the man’s expensive, leather shoes, his slacks, his tucked in shirt with an open collar. The man had wealth and he had taste. If he were anywhere else he might just chat the guy up and give him a business card, and yet he thought of Oliver and the reason he was there and it gave him pause.
He was about to give up, unsure of just what he was supposed to find there, when he saw the younger boyfriend take off his shirt right there in front of everyone to try on something new. And that’s when he realized two things were missing, changing rooms and cameras, and he thought of Oliver’s text about getting a new suit, a complete suit he guessed, jacket, shirt, and pants. Clean underwear, he thought, I forgot about getting clean underwear. He started to head back for the door out when he ran into the cashier, bumped into him, and he stepped back and looked over the man. He wasn’t an ordinary cashier. He was fit, stylish. He looked to be in his forties mostly though Mark suspected he was actually older, white hair and blue eyes.
“I uh, came to the wrong place,” Mark blurted out.
“Are you sure? Aren’t you my appointment for a new suit? Oliver said he’d be sending over someone new and now I can see why, look at you, oh you’re darling.”
Mark suddenly felt intimidated by the man as he stepped back once to get another six inches of distance between them. The man looked him over and he felt like a piece of meat, measured and judged by each feature, put together and taken back apart, possibly even stripped in the man’s imagination, right down to his, his bare ass. Mark gulped and bit his lip. Was this what he wanted?
The other customers continued to browse but they were also looking to him, at him. Were they all doing the same thing he thought of this man before him had been doing? He was it. He was the center of attention. He looked to the door, felt the bead of sweat on his forehead and pool collect at the small of his back. He was nervous. He was actually nervous, he thought, and excited at the same time because if he stayed they’d all get to see him. He might just be stripped of each piece of fabric. He felt his dick harden, worried that they all saw the tent in his pants. He was afraid, not of physical nor emotional harm, just the fear of something new and yet he nodded because yes he wanted this.
“I’m Quentin,” the older man said offering his hand.
“Mark,” he said taking hold of it.
He tried his best to shake with his firmest, most professional grip but the man’s wrist bent with the motion and he felt it go limp. He was worried he had done something wrong but the man only stepped to him, put a hand on his shoulder and turned him to the clothes and asked, “where should we begin?” Mark looked around at the different sections unsure of how or what he should say next and was about to just start talking, make some kind of noise, uhm or like, well, anything when Quentin interrupted him.
“Measurements, it’s always good to start with measurements,” he said.
And he ushered Mark across the store to an area where three mirrors surrounded a small step, a platform, a pedestal. Mark felt the man urge him to get up on it so he did. He was turned and faced back out to the rest of the store. Suddenly a few inches taller he looked down on the rest of them and yet he was the one who felt ridiculous and the focus of attention. He felt Quentin take hold of his tie and loosen it, pull it out and for a moment he breathed easier until the older man took hold of his belt buckle and he grabbed the man’s wrists. And the man didn’t fight back, just let himself be taken and held.
“What are you doing?”
“Well, the best measurements are always closest to the skin. I thought, maybe, I could strip you down for the most accurate results.”
The other customers were now all looking to him. They were waiting, hunger in their eyes. He thought he saw one of them lick his lips. The younger man, the boyfriend, was shirtless as he stared back and yet Mark still felt the most vulnerable of them all. And yet there it was, the younger boyfriend, shirtless, and so he relaxed and he let go of the tailor’s wrists. Quentin quickly set about his task, belt out, fly open, pants down, shoes off, pants off, socks off. Mark self consciously tugged his shirt down to cover himself. Quentin pulled a measuring tape from his back pocket, ran it from his foot up his leg to the inside of his thigh right beside his balls. He felt the back of the man’s hand. Did it really have to be there so long? Probably not.
For a moment he laughed to himself as he stood there with his shirt loose down to half of his thigh, slightly tickled by the tailor who moved to his other leg. He watched as some of the other customers moved closer and some of them went back to shopping though keeping one eye on him. He looked to their crotches and noted that most all of them were walking around with erections. And he felt his own dick slide around against his briefs, leave a trail of ejaculate as he felt it harden.
This isn’t so bad, he told himself, but Quentin must have sensed his confidence because that’s when he took hold his shirt collar. One button at a time, slowly and methodically until it was open, the man pulled it from his shoulders, tossed it on his pile of clothes. Mark suddenly felt humiliated as he stood there wishing he had picked a different style of undershirt that day, the one day he had chosen tank top over crew neck. He could have used the sleeves right then, the tighter collar, the way the fabric hung loose, but instead he was in a tank top. The ribbed fabric clung to him, bare shoulders, bare clavicle. He tried to cover himself with his hands and that’s when he remembered the three mirrors behind him. They all could see him, all parts of him at the same time and from just about every angle. He felt the way his briefs rode up his crack, part of one cheek a little more visible, and he wanted to pull it out, two fingers to the back of his underwear and he could cover himself. But for how long? He remembered the store sold underwear too.
Quentin asked him to remove his undershirt and he did, handed it over to the man who dropped it with the rest before reaching up to his hips, a hand on each side. His fingers delicately inside the waist band, he pulled a little, then some more, and finally Mark felt the last fabric, the lost cover of decency, leave his body, down his hips to his ankles and then he stepped out of it. He stood there before all of them naked, bare, his erect dick pointed at them. They all took a moment to look. They all saw him.
It could be worse, he thought, I could be bending over showing them my asshole. And yet it was completely embarrassing, completely humiliating to be standing there in front of strangers, in the back of a store, in another store, a kind of fake store, clothing all around him, aisles and displays of clothing, his own clothing on the floor in a messy pile. He looked down to see his briefs and for a moment he wanted them back. He wanted them all back. And yet as he stood there, felt his body in the cool air, the way his hard dick stuck out with the foreskin rolled back he was kind of proud because they were all looking at him. They were all admiring him. He moved his hands a little just to feel the under part of his forearm brush against the head of his dick and he bucked a little and the men smirked as they stared at him. Quentin moved away, crossed the store to a door that he went through as discreetly as possibly. He looked to his left and saw a man rub at his bulge in his pants. They were all getting off on this.
One man brazenly put his hands down inside his pants and began to stroke his hard dick. He looked to where the man with the younger boyfriend had been joined by one of the other customers and the younger boyfriend had his hands down inside the men’s pants as they pawed him. Mark licked his lips. These men wanted him. They were horny for him and yet they all stood back observing him as he stood there and suddenly he didn’t feel shame but pride so he put his hands at his side, took a deep breath, and held his shoulders up. His hard dick in front of him, so hard it bent back, the foreskin peel away and the tip was red, a pearl of cum on it.
After several deep breaths he saw Quentin return accompanied by another much younger man, handsome with glasses and short, stylish haircut. The new man walked ahead, crossed the room to where Mark stood and looked him in the eye.
“My name is Alfie,” he said, “and it looks like we’ve got a bit of a problem here, none of your clothes will fit with that big erection.”
Mark rubbed his fingers together. This new man, this more in charge man somehow, he added a new element to it. He felt as if his cheeks were on fire and he looked to the ceiling, watched the man out of the corner of his eye. Alfie stepped closer, his cologne wafted into Mark’s nostrils and he could hear the other men in the room, the rustle of their clothes as they masturbated.
“On your knees boy,” Alfie commanded.
Mark dropped to his knees, his head still cocked back he looked up to the man as he stood before him in his slacks, his button down shirt, suspenders, a bow tie. Alfie reached around to him, gripped the back of his head then pulled him into his crotch. Mark felt the man’s erection underneath. In the darkness of the cloth, firm against his thigh he gulped and moved his mouth as if the man’s dick was right there for him. He wanted it. His knees pressed into the carpet, toes bent, the way his butt cheeks parted and hung open, his hard dick and tight balls, his nipples hard. He saw Alfie’s hand, fingers touched together on the zipper. He heard the teeth slowly open, then he undid his belt, his pants. Alfie pulled him to his dick, his face pressed into the other man’s underwear he felt his hard dick.
Slowly he moved up to the waistband of his underwear, bit into them with his teeth, pulled them down. Alfie’s dick slapped against the side of his face. He felt it run along his cheek to his ear and he tried to grip it with his lips. Alfie placed his hand on Mark’s head and pushed him a little lower to his balls. He took one in his mouth then the other, licked up the base along the shaft to the head. He nipped at it, licked his lips and opened his mouth for Alfie to push inside, across this tongue to the back of his mouth to his throat he choked a little and pushed back. The tailor pulled out and he gulped for breath, he felt his mouth fill with saliva.
Back into his mouth, out, in, out, Alfie’s fingers in his hair, he began to thrust in motion deeper each time into Mark’s mouth, his balls slapped against his chin. Mark reached down to his own dick, felt his balls, gripped at his shaft, tugged a little and with just a little motion his fingers rubbed over the head and it happened. He felt the spasm of his muscles, the rush and the tingle of pain as he ejaculated. But it wasn’t over as Alfie continued to fuck his face, his lips began to swell, the other man gripped at his ears and his hair until finally he was pulled into his pubic hair and he felt the cum in his throat burn down to his stomach. He pulled away and sunk down on his haunches, head down, spit ran out from his open mouth down to his chest, his belly, even on his own dick.
And just when he had gathered his breath he felt someone grab his ear and he realized it was Quentin, the older man who had stripped him. He was pulled low to the floor to Alfie’s shoe where he saw his own ejaculate there on the leather. Quentin spanked him twice and pulled him closer until he stuck out his tongue and he was forced to lick up what he had carelessly spilled. He licked and sucked as the older man continued to abuse his bottom and pull on his ear until he had cleaned the entire shoe and then he was pulled to the carpet where he tasted some of it but also the fibers and he struggled and resisted so Quentin released him. He pushed himself up to his knees and glared to the old man and was about to say something when Aflie squatted down in front of him, slapped him across the face and he looked back to him.
“Bad boy,” he said.
It was there again. He felt himself back in the scene. He would do anything for this young man. He looked him in the eye for a moment, then looked down to the carpet and he saw the wet spot. Slowly, carefully he lowered himself down on his hands, tried to lick at it without tasting the carpet. For a moment he thought he had done exactly what was expected of him, especially when he heard the younger man’s cruel laughter that stirred his memory and he realized exactly where he was, exactly what he had done, and the other men, the strangers. He pushed up and looked for them and was surprised to see most of them had gone.
“We’ll get to work on your suit right away sir,” Quentin said, “I believe we have everything we need.”
Alfie properly secured his dick back into his underwear and his pants, walked out of the room. Mark looked over to his pile of clothes. He crawled to them, got to his feet, pulled each article on one at a time. He looked to Quentin who seemed to be preoccupied with his work, then he walked out. The cool air was refreshing when it hit his red cheeks and lungs. He breathed deep, adjusted his dick, and walked back to his car slowly memorizing for himself everything he had been subjected to in some attempt to remember every detail even the taste of the carpet.
Showing posts with label Gay Book. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gay Book. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 4, 2018
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Sunday, September 21, 2014
The Brat
The sequel to Act Your Age.
All the same characters, all the same rules, and all the same discipline.
Just in time for Christmas. Dec. 21, 2014.
>47k words, $3.99, Amazon eBook and Print Editions
Who'd like to read it?
Saturday, August 23, 2014
Act Your Age Ch 16 - Job Hunting
Over a week after receiving the spanking in the parking lot I had been on my best behavior, my ass still hurt but was healing. The red skin had turned to purple, brown, and yellow. I liked to stare at myself in the mirror, massage my cheeks. I liked that I had been marked. I liked the sensations. It was a constant reminder of how I had misbehaved, how I had been corrected, and that I didn’t want to be spanked again at least not right away.
In that week I had gotten into a habit with Mr. Grant. It was easy because he was still working on getting his restaurant started so he had free time. We’d go out to eat, he’d order for me. We went to the park. We talked about all of the small things, meaningless things. My parents stopped expecting me home but they didn’t say anything to me. They knew I was gay. They knew he was gay. Maybe they thought he was a good influence for me.
I’d write my lines every night at the desk in his room before bed as I sat in my underwear. I did my homework after class. I had stopped smoking. I hadn’t had a drink since the party. I was on my best behavior. I had completely forgotten about my cane. I had motivation.
During that week we did little more than jerk or suck each other off. The best was when we’d cuddle next to each other on the couch where we’d play with each others dicks. It felt slightly mischievous under the blanket with his hairy arm around my side, his hand down the crotch of my tight white underwear, barely enough room to stroke me, but he always got me off and I did the same in return with my hand in his boxers. I was unsure how I would convince him to have full on sex, especially without a condom but it was good. I had no complaints.
And yet there were moments when I got bored so I joined a few online groups about spanking. It had changed my life, having someone who I was responsible to, who looked out for my best interest, had changed my life. I didn’t want to disappoint him and yet I was still unemployed.
That’s why when he asked me if I was up to a challenge to find a job I agreed. He said he had a plan and that I was to be free Friday morning. I didn’t usually have anything then so it was an easy agreement. It was ten in the morning when he drove me to the strip mall near where we lived. I was dressed in the shirt, pants, and shoes he had bought me, my hair was combed neatly and I had shaved just that morning so I was feeling pretty fresh. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was up to something.
“There are thirty businesses here that are all open. Twenty-five of which I believe would hire you for some kind of work. I want you to go introduce yourself and ask for an application. If they seem interested and want to talk and ask you to fill it out then do so. If they don’t, then that’s okay and just bring back the form. I will be back after twelve o’clock right here in this spot to pick you up. For every business that you don’t go to I will spank you twice.”
I swallowed at the challenge because I remembered the spanking he had already given me. I clenched my butt at the thought of another one so soon.
“If you go to all of them we can go out to lunch,” he said. “And here’s ten dollars to get yourself a snack of some kind, make sure to drink water.”
I got out of the car feeling a little excited, a little stressed, but somehow it felt more of a challenge than a punishment. It was an excuse to get me out of my head, to stop thinking about my fears and do something. I had an excuse to do the thing I knew I needed to do. Instead of panic I felt courage. He pulled away from me, the drove off as I watched him I couldn’t help but smile.
My cheerfulness didn’t last long. The first place was a grocery store. I felt anxiety just approaching a cashier let alone a manager but I made myself do it. The woman said the manager was busy but gave me an application. I thanked her and went on my way. The next place was a little more subdued as it was a cell phone store. The place wasn’t busy but there was no manager around so the man there gave me another application. It went on like that for five more stores. I was starting to feel exhausted already and decided to get a bottle of water and a snack from a place where I also asked for an application. I went out to the bench in front of the store.
Collecting applications was easy, I thought, so at least I won’t get a spanking, but then I looked to the wooden bench and there was an ache in my butt so bad I had to reach back to tell myself it wasn’t real, just a memory. It wasn’t the pain itself. It was the idea of being back over his lap, the weight on my chest, and the feeling of being naked. It was the idea of being so vulnerable with him and being able to trust him not to take advantage of me. I could walk around his house in my underwear. He’d never bully me, belittle me, or haze me.
With a renewed feeling of confidence I continued my challenge. I found the next couple to be a little more interested and got to talk to the managers. But the most eager ones seemed like they would be the hardest to work for and I had my reservations about even returning the applications. The most interesting was a coffee shop that offered ‘flexible hours’ but said that the hardest shift to get was in the morning because people made the most in tips. By the end of my job hunt I was feeling pretty tired by the time I got back to where Mr. Grant had dropped me off. I had thirty applications in hand and some stories to tell about the managers I had met.
He was right there where he said he would be, and five minutes early. I got into the car, buckled up, and he began to drive. I told him that I had collected the applications and that I looked forward to filling them out and returning them. He seemed pleased by my accomplishment and said that as a reward we’d go to the mall. We made our way to the food court where he let me pick out the place to get food.
We made small talk over lunch and I thought somehow that it was over. I thought we’d go back home and I’d fill out the applications, maybe play some video games and jerk off, or else we’d watch a movie but we didn’t, I didn’t. He raised his eyebrow to me and said there was another challenge. I nodded in acceptance.
“The mall is next,” he said. “I want you to go around to at least fifteen stores and do the same thing.”
I groaned at his comment and he looked to me with a renewed seriousness. I suddenly realized just how much like a little boy I was and how much of a man he was as I thought about my reaction. He was trying to teach me responsibility and I was trying to manipulate him out of my obligations.
Collecting the fifteen was easy. The best place I thought to work was a place that sold designer eyeglasses, both prescription and nonprescription. There were two people working there and they both seemed kind of gay, at least the man did. The woman was fashionable and she could have been a lesbian. I’d never find out for sure.
When I finished my collection I texted Mr. Grant to find out where he was and he said he was waiting outside the movie theater. He asked if I wanted to see a show starting in ten minutes. I said replied, ‘sure’ before looking at my clock and estimating the time to get across the mall. It was an easy walk, though I felt pressure to be as quick as I could be. He had the tickets in hand, gave me one. I got in line behind him in front of the person who checks the tickets.
Just past the man he stopped and looked to the concession stand. Without thinking I said, “hold on let me see if they have an application” and walked away before he could say anything. I saw one person was reloading the popcorn machine and moved to her. I stepped close and asked if the theater was hiring and if I could get an application. She said they were and would get me one. I hoped I wasn’t making us too late but collecting applications started to have its own reward. Mr. Grant moved up behind me, put his arm around me in a friendly sort of way.
“Actually I was going to ask if you wanted anything,” he said.
“Oh, well, some popcorn and a drink,” I said.
When the woman came back with the application Mr. Grant signaled to her that he wanted to order. She asked him what he wanted and he ordered the date package with two drinks, one popcorn, and one box of candy. I looked at the prices and felt guilty for a moment before he said I could pick out the candy. I moved to the case, pointed to my favorite. She smiled at us as she collected everything, more when he paid. It was a knowing smile, like that she liked gay men, or that her cousin was gay, maybe an uncle. I took my drink. He took his. I grabbed the candy. He picked up the popcorn. We couldn’t help but laugh at each other as we walked away into the theater.
We were five minutes late and the previews had already started. It was easy to find a seat because there were only a few other people there and they were mostly in the front. I led him to the back of the theater where we could sit under the projector, see if ushers entered. We snacked through the rest of the previews and into the first ten minutes of the movie until we settled into our seats and everything seemed normal.
That’s when I reached over into his lap. He squirmed a little at my touch, reached to my hand. I grabbed hold of the fabric of his crotch until I could feel his dick. He moaned a little and I let out a silent laugh. I leaned to him, kissed him on the cheek and whispered for him to be quiet or he’d attract attention. I worked him through the rest of the movie. We left as soon as the credits started. I was headed for the car but he grabbed hold me at the first unused, fire exit door. He closed the door behind us. We made sure no one saw us or was following us. It seemed clear. He pulled me into a kiss with his back against the door. I sunk to my knees, pulled out his dick.
The concrete was hard on my knees, the stairwell had this weird echo effect. His dick was hard and slick. I knew his underwear was a mess and it made me smile. I started with the tip as usual, decided to make it a quick one because I couldn’t get to his balls and where we were. It was easy to get him to my throat for the first few sucks but oddly my gag reflex started to act up so I simply sat back on my feet, wiped the spit from my lips with the back of my hand and worked his dick with my other hand. It was fun to pull and squeeze it. I loved the feeling of the head of his dick just before my hand would slip over it. I moved out of the way before he had an orgasm, let the cum shoot over my shoulder and onto the floor.
He tucked himself back inside as we began to laugh. The blob of ejaculate looked like an odd spill, maybe someone would think it was spit. We checked each other over before we ran down the stairs laughing as we did. It was easy to get back to his car. When we got there I couldn’t help myself. I moved with him to the driver’s side door, pressed my body against his and we kissed again. This time he grabbed the back of my head and held me there with our tongues slipping against each other for a long time before we pulled apart and looked around to see no one else was around, no one had seen us. We laughed more as I ran around to the passenger seat.
In that week I had gotten into a habit with Mr. Grant. It was easy because he was still working on getting his restaurant started so he had free time. We’d go out to eat, he’d order for me. We went to the park. We talked about all of the small things, meaningless things. My parents stopped expecting me home but they didn’t say anything to me. They knew I was gay. They knew he was gay. Maybe they thought he was a good influence for me.
I’d write my lines every night at the desk in his room before bed as I sat in my underwear. I did my homework after class. I had stopped smoking. I hadn’t had a drink since the party. I was on my best behavior. I had completely forgotten about my cane. I had motivation.
During that week we did little more than jerk or suck each other off. The best was when we’d cuddle next to each other on the couch where we’d play with each others dicks. It felt slightly mischievous under the blanket with his hairy arm around my side, his hand down the crotch of my tight white underwear, barely enough room to stroke me, but he always got me off and I did the same in return with my hand in his boxers. I was unsure how I would convince him to have full on sex, especially without a condom but it was good. I had no complaints.
And yet there were moments when I got bored so I joined a few online groups about spanking. It had changed my life, having someone who I was responsible to, who looked out for my best interest, had changed my life. I didn’t want to disappoint him and yet I was still unemployed.
That’s why when he asked me if I was up to a challenge to find a job I agreed. He said he had a plan and that I was to be free Friday morning. I didn’t usually have anything then so it was an easy agreement. It was ten in the morning when he drove me to the strip mall near where we lived. I was dressed in the shirt, pants, and shoes he had bought me, my hair was combed neatly and I had shaved just that morning so I was feeling pretty fresh. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was up to something.
“There are thirty businesses here that are all open. Twenty-five of which I believe would hire you for some kind of work. I want you to go introduce yourself and ask for an application. If they seem interested and want to talk and ask you to fill it out then do so. If they don’t, then that’s okay and just bring back the form. I will be back after twelve o’clock right here in this spot to pick you up. For every business that you don’t go to I will spank you twice.”
I swallowed at the challenge because I remembered the spanking he had already given me. I clenched my butt at the thought of another one so soon.
“If you go to all of them we can go out to lunch,” he said. “And here’s ten dollars to get yourself a snack of some kind, make sure to drink water.”
I got out of the car feeling a little excited, a little stressed, but somehow it felt more of a challenge than a punishment. It was an excuse to get me out of my head, to stop thinking about my fears and do something. I had an excuse to do the thing I knew I needed to do. Instead of panic I felt courage. He pulled away from me, the drove off as I watched him I couldn’t help but smile.
My cheerfulness didn’t last long. The first place was a grocery store. I felt anxiety just approaching a cashier let alone a manager but I made myself do it. The woman said the manager was busy but gave me an application. I thanked her and went on my way. The next place was a little more subdued as it was a cell phone store. The place wasn’t busy but there was no manager around so the man there gave me another application. It went on like that for five more stores. I was starting to feel exhausted already and decided to get a bottle of water and a snack from a place where I also asked for an application. I went out to the bench in front of the store.
Collecting applications was easy, I thought, so at least I won’t get a spanking, but then I looked to the wooden bench and there was an ache in my butt so bad I had to reach back to tell myself it wasn’t real, just a memory. It wasn’t the pain itself. It was the idea of being back over his lap, the weight on my chest, and the feeling of being naked. It was the idea of being so vulnerable with him and being able to trust him not to take advantage of me. I could walk around his house in my underwear. He’d never bully me, belittle me, or haze me.
With a renewed feeling of confidence I continued my challenge. I found the next couple to be a little more interested and got to talk to the managers. But the most eager ones seemed like they would be the hardest to work for and I had my reservations about even returning the applications. The most interesting was a coffee shop that offered ‘flexible hours’ but said that the hardest shift to get was in the morning because people made the most in tips. By the end of my job hunt I was feeling pretty tired by the time I got back to where Mr. Grant had dropped me off. I had thirty applications in hand and some stories to tell about the managers I had met.
He was right there where he said he would be, and five minutes early. I got into the car, buckled up, and he began to drive. I told him that I had collected the applications and that I looked forward to filling them out and returning them. He seemed pleased by my accomplishment and said that as a reward we’d go to the mall. We made our way to the food court where he let me pick out the place to get food.
We made small talk over lunch and I thought somehow that it was over. I thought we’d go back home and I’d fill out the applications, maybe play some video games and jerk off, or else we’d watch a movie but we didn’t, I didn’t. He raised his eyebrow to me and said there was another challenge. I nodded in acceptance.
“The mall is next,” he said. “I want you to go around to at least fifteen stores and do the same thing.”
I groaned at his comment and he looked to me with a renewed seriousness. I suddenly realized just how much like a little boy I was and how much of a man he was as I thought about my reaction. He was trying to teach me responsibility and I was trying to manipulate him out of my obligations.
Collecting the fifteen was easy. The best place I thought to work was a place that sold designer eyeglasses, both prescription and nonprescription. There were two people working there and they both seemed kind of gay, at least the man did. The woman was fashionable and she could have been a lesbian. I’d never find out for sure.
When I finished my collection I texted Mr. Grant to find out where he was and he said he was waiting outside the movie theater. He asked if I wanted to see a show starting in ten minutes. I said replied, ‘sure’ before looking at my clock and estimating the time to get across the mall. It was an easy walk, though I felt pressure to be as quick as I could be. He had the tickets in hand, gave me one. I got in line behind him in front of the person who checks the tickets.
Just past the man he stopped and looked to the concession stand. Without thinking I said, “hold on let me see if they have an application” and walked away before he could say anything. I saw one person was reloading the popcorn machine and moved to her. I stepped close and asked if the theater was hiring and if I could get an application. She said they were and would get me one. I hoped I wasn’t making us too late but collecting applications started to have its own reward. Mr. Grant moved up behind me, put his arm around me in a friendly sort of way.
“Actually I was going to ask if you wanted anything,” he said.
“Oh, well, some popcorn and a drink,” I said.
When the woman came back with the application Mr. Grant signaled to her that he wanted to order. She asked him what he wanted and he ordered the date package with two drinks, one popcorn, and one box of candy. I looked at the prices and felt guilty for a moment before he said I could pick out the candy. I moved to the case, pointed to my favorite. She smiled at us as she collected everything, more when he paid. It was a knowing smile, like that she liked gay men, or that her cousin was gay, maybe an uncle. I took my drink. He took his. I grabbed the candy. He picked up the popcorn. We couldn’t help but laugh at each other as we walked away into the theater.
We were five minutes late and the previews had already started. It was easy to find a seat because there were only a few other people there and they were mostly in the front. I led him to the back of the theater where we could sit under the projector, see if ushers entered. We snacked through the rest of the previews and into the first ten minutes of the movie until we settled into our seats and everything seemed normal.
That’s when I reached over into his lap. He squirmed a little at my touch, reached to my hand. I grabbed hold of the fabric of his crotch until I could feel his dick. He moaned a little and I let out a silent laugh. I leaned to him, kissed him on the cheek and whispered for him to be quiet or he’d attract attention. I worked him through the rest of the movie. We left as soon as the credits started. I was headed for the car but he grabbed hold me at the first unused, fire exit door. He closed the door behind us. We made sure no one saw us or was following us. It seemed clear. He pulled me into a kiss with his back against the door. I sunk to my knees, pulled out his dick.
The concrete was hard on my knees, the stairwell had this weird echo effect. His dick was hard and slick. I knew his underwear was a mess and it made me smile. I started with the tip as usual, decided to make it a quick one because I couldn’t get to his balls and where we were. It was easy to get him to my throat for the first few sucks but oddly my gag reflex started to act up so I simply sat back on my feet, wiped the spit from my lips with the back of my hand and worked his dick with my other hand. It was fun to pull and squeeze it. I loved the feeling of the head of his dick just before my hand would slip over it. I moved out of the way before he had an orgasm, let the cum shoot over my shoulder and onto the floor.
He tucked himself back inside as we began to laugh. The blob of ejaculate looked like an odd spill, maybe someone would think it was spit. We checked each other over before we ran down the stairs laughing as we did. It was easy to get back to his car. When we got there I couldn’t help myself. I moved with him to the driver’s side door, pressed my body against his and we kissed again. This time he grabbed the back of my head and held me there with our tongues slipping against each other for a long time before we pulled apart and looked around to see no one else was around, no one had seen us. We laughed more as I ran around to the passenger seat.
Sunday, June 8, 2014
Hazed on the Farm Pt 2
They watched the rest of the movie without talking much between them. John couldn’t get the thought of paddling out of his mind. It kept coming back to him at the commercial breaks when there was no narrative to distract him. He wanted to say something but Grady seemed to have forgotten about it despite his interest, and despite watching the clip several times. Perhaps it was the presence of his father in the house, John thought.
When the movie ended they changed the channel to something else. John was beginning to feel comfortable sitting there in just his underwear when Grady’s father walked into the room. The presence of the man made him sit up, take note of what his crotch looked like and if there was any visible sign of arousal.
“Your mother wants to go out tonight so I’m going to meet her,” he said. “I’m taking my bike so I’m going out to get it ready.”
Grady looked over his shoulder to his father as he left the room, then looked to John and grinned. John thought to say something but couldn’t think of anything so he decided to excuse himself.
“I have to use the restroom,” he said.
“TMI, I don’t need an announcement. Unless you want me to go with you?”
“Fuck off,” John said before he got to his feet.
He looked down at Grady and decided he shouldn’t walk past him, shouldn’t make himself vulnerable. He turned and moved around his side of the couch, walked behind Grady, through the house to the bathroom. He closed and locked the door behind himself and went to the toilet. It was easy to tuck his underwear under his balls. The sound of his urine hitting the bowl seemed the loudest he had ever heard it. He noted the color, a sign of his hydration, and flushed before he put down the lid and went to the mirror. He saw his reflection and shook his head. He told himself that he looked foolish in just a pair of white briefs, especially the way it formed around his cock and balls. The white color added to the definition. He was thankful there weren’t any visible stains. He decided that he would go back out and put on his jeans.
He went to the bathroom door, unlocked it, opened it, and turned off the light. The house was quiet. He couldn’t hear the television. He walked back to the living room and was surprised to find Grady still sitting. He looked to the end of the couch to where he left his jeans but they were gone.
“Where are my pants?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Grady answered.
“Give them back.”
Grady raised his hands and said, “Search me but I don’t have them.”
“Very funny,” John said.
“Actually it is,” Grady replied.
“I want them back. I want to leave.”
“But we were having fun. My parents are going out.”
“I know,” John said.
“What if I told you that I have a game in mind?”
“Like what?”
“A competition,” Grady said.
“What kind of competition?”
Grady held up a wooden spoon.
“What’s that for?” John asked.
“Shove it up your ass,” Grady said. “What do you think?”
John balled his fist.
“It’s for a spanking competition, the loser has to stay in his underwear the rest of the night.”
“And the winner?”
“Gets his jeans back,” Grady answered.
John thought about trying to fight him, making him submit until he gave up the jeans and his shirt, or else maybe stealing some clothes from Grady’s room, but he stopped himself. The idea of a spanking competition sounded interesting. It was the thing he had been thinking about while they watched the rest of the movie. It would be a test of his endurance for pain and a chance to give Grady a few swats.
“I’ll do it but when?”
“Right now, up in my room,” Grady said.
“But your father?”
“He’s playing with his bike. That could take hours, plus I can see him from my window upstairs. We can check to see him working.”
“I don’t know. We’d make a lot of noise.”
“What about something else?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Come with me,” Grady said.
Grady jumped to his feet and walked past John who turned and followed after him. At the stairs he couldn’t help but look up at Grady’s ass, the stretched fabric was almost transparent. When he felt a stir of feeling he looked away. At the top of the stairs Grady turned on his friend, ushered him back to his bedroom, and inside where he locked the bedroom door.
“If you don’t want to play a spanking game, and you want it to be quiet, then we could have a jerk off competition.”
“What?”
“Lots of guys do it. We lay down next to each other on the bed with something to catch our cum and we see who can do it the fastest.”
“I don’t know,” John said.
“The slowest?”
“Doesn’t that sound kind of gay?”
“Only if we jerk each other off,” Grady said.
“This is getting kind of weird,” John said.
“Let’s up the stakes. Loser has to do whatever the winner wants for the rest of the night without question.”
Grady moved to his desk and set the wooden spoon down. John looked him over, then looked away before making eye contact. That was a big stake, but then he thought of having Grady under his will and it excited him. He thought about taking the spoon to him, bossing him around, making him grovel. He was pretty horny and felt he could get one off easily.
“Okay,” John said.
“Great, let’s get to it.”
They moved to the foot of the bed, faced away from it. Grady placed his thumbs in the band of his own underwear, pushed them down, then stepped out of them. He tossed the material onto his desk chair. John wasn’t ready for such a move. He decided to keep his underwear on. They were nearly shoulder to shoulder. Grady sat first and John followed. Grady slid back and John followed. Grady lay back and John followed.
“On the count of three,” Grady said.
John reached into his own underwear. Grady took hold of his own dick with one hand and his balls with the other. Grady counted to three and they both began to jerk as fast and hard as they could. John felt himself straining against his underwear easily whereas Grady’s dick stood up in the air. They looked down over their stomachs to their crotches and their hands. John was shocked to see the size of Grady’s engorged dick.
“I’m a grower not a shower,” Grady said.
“You don’t brag about it,” John replied.
“Yeah, well, focus on your own dick,” Grady said.
John closed his eyes and continued to work himself. The sensations were familiar to the ones he felt in his own bed before going to sleep, but he couldn’t stop thinking about daylight, being in someone else’s room, and Grady’s father outside. He lost focus and let out a groan of frustration as he felt himself soften. He tried to think about other things, erotic things, but he could only think about where he was and Grady’s dick. He thought about the head of it.
“I’m almost there,” Grady said. “Better hurry up.”
John opened his eyes to see Grady stroking himself in long motions before aiming his dick back up at himself. Grady stiffened in the bed, raised up his ass from the cover, and began to shoot ejaculate up over his body. The first shot went the farthest to hit the pillows, the next on Grady’s face, down his neck, his chest, and finally oozed out of the end and into his pubic hair. Grady relaxed on the bed but John felt himself still ready to orgasm and began to stroke some more. Grady reached out and put his hand down over John’s to stop him.
“You don’t get to orgasm,” Grady said.
“What?”
“You took too long.”
“Please, I hate having blue balls.”
Grady raised up his hand and brought it back down in a hard slap to John’s crotch. John pulled his hand from his underwear in frustration, let it lay on his chest. He thought it was over but then Grady raised up his hand and brought it down a second time, hit him more squarely on the balls and made John cry out in pain.
“What was that for?”
“To remind you of the competition and that you’re now my bitch.”
John started to turn away but Grady rolled onto his side and stopped him. He pulled John back to the bed. They looked up at the ceiling.
“Your first task is to clean me up.”
“What?”
“I’d have you lick it up but I don’t think you’re ready for that so I’ll let you use a towel. They’re in the bathroom downstairs. I’d hurry up before my father comes back inside.”
John got up to his feet. His dick still straining against the fabric. He walked to the door, thought to ask for some jeans but decided he was lucky to still be wearing his underwear.
“Don’t take too long and don’t jerk yourself off, that thing better still be hard when you get back.”
John unlocked the door, stepped out from the room, and broke into a run. He took the steps easily though his cock bounced when he did. He listened for a moment at the bottom of the stairs, then dashed for the bathroom. He got a few towels and ran back as quick as he could. When he got the bottom of the steps he thought he heard the front door open so he ran as fast as he could back up to the second floor. He got to the bedroom door and was surprised to find it closed, and locked.
“Please hurry up and let me inside. Your father is downstairs,” John whispered.
Grady unlocked the door, opened it a crack.
“Give me your underwear,” he said.
“What?”
Grady held out his hand. John listened for more sounds in the house, decided he couldn’t risk being caught and that he couldn’t determine if his father was headed upstairs, or what he would do if he saw him. He slipped off his underwear and handed them over.
“Get down on your knees,” Grady said.
John looked around again but decided he was naked and at Grady’s mercy so he slunk down to his knees. Grady opened the door and John shuffled inside.
Part 1 / Part 3
When the movie ended they changed the channel to something else. John was beginning to feel comfortable sitting there in just his underwear when Grady’s father walked into the room. The presence of the man made him sit up, take note of what his crotch looked like and if there was any visible sign of arousal.
“Your mother wants to go out tonight so I’m going to meet her,” he said. “I’m taking my bike so I’m going out to get it ready.”
Grady looked over his shoulder to his father as he left the room, then looked to John and grinned. John thought to say something but couldn’t think of anything so he decided to excuse himself.
“I have to use the restroom,” he said.
“TMI, I don’t need an announcement. Unless you want me to go with you?”
“Fuck off,” John said before he got to his feet.
He looked down at Grady and decided he shouldn’t walk past him, shouldn’t make himself vulnerable. He turned and moved around his side of the couch, walked behind Grady, through the house to the bathroom. He closed and locked the door behind himself and went to the toilet. It was easy to tuck his underwear under his balls. The sound of his urine hitting the bowl seemed the loudest he had ever heard it. He noted the color, a sign of his hydration, and flushed before he put down the lid and went to the mirror. He saw his reflection and shook his head. He told himself that he looked foolish in just a pair of white briefs, especially the way it formed around his cock and balls. The white color added to the definition. He was thankful there weren’t any visible stains. He decided that he would go back out and put on his jeans.
He went to the bathroom door, unlocked it, opened it, and turned off the light. The house was quiet. He couldn’t hear the television. He walked back to the living room and was surprised to find Grady still sitting. He looked to the end of the couch to where he left his jeans but they were gone.
“Where are my pants?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Grady answered.
“Give them back.”
Grady raised his hands and said, “Search me but I don’t have them.”
“Very funny,” John said.
“Actually it is,” Grady replied.
“I want them back. I want to leave.”
“But we were having fun. My parents are going out.”
“I know,” John said.
“What if I told you that I have a game in mind?”
“Like what?”
“A competition,” Grady said.
“What kind of competition?”
Grady held up a wooden spoon.
“What’s that for?” John asked.
“Shove it up your ass,” Grady said. “What do you think?”
John balled his fist.
“It’s for a spanking competition, the loser has to stay in his underwear the rest of the night.”
“And the winner?”
“Gets his jeans back,” Grady answered.
John thought about trying to fight him, making him submit until he gave up the jeans and his shirt, or else maybe stealing some clothes from Grady’s room, but he stopped himself. The idea of a spanking competition sounded interesting. It was the thing he had been thinking about while they watched the rest of the movie. It would be a test of his endurance for pain and a chance to give Grady a few swats.
“I’ll do it but when?”
“Right now, up in my room,” Grady said.
“But your father?”
“He’s playing with his bike. That could take hours, plus I can see him from my window upstairs. We can check to see him working.”
“I don’t know. We’d make a lot of noise.”
“What about something else?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Come with me,” Grady said.
Grady jumped to his feet and walked past John who turned and followed after him. At the stairs he couldn’t help but look up at Grady’s ass, the stretched fabric was almost transparent. When he felt a stir of feeling he looked away. At the top of the stairs Grady turned on his friend, ushered him back to his bedroom, and inside where he locked the bedroom door.
“If you don’t want to play a spanking game, and you want it to be quiet, then we could have a jerk off competition.”
“What?”
“Lots of guys do it. We lay down next to each other on the bed with something to catch our cum and we see who can do it the fastest.”
“I don’t know,” John said.
“The slowest?”
“Doesn’t that sound kind of gay?”
“Only if we jerk each other off,” Grady said.
“This is getting kind of weird,” John said.
“Let’s up the stakes. Loser has to do whatever the winner wants for the rest of the night without question.”
Grady moved to his desk and set the wooden spoon down. John looked him over, then looked away before making eye contact. That was a big stake, but then he thought of having Grady under his will and it excited him. He thought about taking the spoon to him, bossing him around, making him grovel. He was pretty horny and felt he could get one off easily.
“Okay,” John said.
“Great, let’s get to it.”
They moved to the foot of the bed, faced away from it. Grady placed his thumbs in the band of his own underwear, pushed them down, then stepped out of them. He tossed the material onto his desk chair. John wasn’t ready for such a move. He decided to keep his underwear on. They were nearly shoulder to shoulder. Grady sat first and John followed. Grady slid back and John followed. Grady lay back and John followed.
“On the count of three,” Grady said.
John reached into his own underwear. Grady took hold of his own dick with one hand and his balls with the other. Grady counted to three and they both began to jerk as fast and hard as they could. John felt himself straining against his underwear easily whereas Grady’s dick stood up in the air. They looked down over their stomachs to their crotches and their hands. John was shocked to see the size of Grady’s engorged dick.
“I’m a grower not a shower,” Grady said.
“You don’t brag about it,” John replied.
“Yeah, well, focus on your own dick,” Grady said.
John closed his eyes and continued to work himself. The sensations were familiar to the ones he felt in his own bed before going to sleep, but he couldn’t stop thinking about daylight, being in someone else’s room, and Grady’s father outside. He lost focus and let out a groan of frustration as he felt himself soften. He tried to think about other things, erotic things, but he could only think about where he was and Grady’s dick. He thought about the head of it.
“I’m almost there,” Grady said. “Better hurry up.”
John opened his eyes to see Grady stroking himself in long motions before aiming his dick back up at himself. Grady stiffened in the bed, raised up his ass from the cover, and began to shoot ejaculate up over his body. The first shot went the farthest to hit the pillows, the next on Grady’s face, down his neck, his chest, and finally oozed out of the end and into his pubic hair. Grady relaxed on the bed but John felt himself still ready to orgasm and began to stroke some more. Grady reached out and put his hand down over John’s to stop him.
“You don’t get to orgasm,” Grady said.
“What?”
“You took too long.”
“Please, I hate having blue balls.”
Grady raised up his hand and brought it back down in a hard slap to John’s crotch. John pulled his hand from his underwear in frustration, let it lay on his chest. He thought it was over but then Grady raised up his hand and brought it down a second time, hit him more squarely on the balls and made John cry out in pain.
“What was that for?”
“To remind you of the competition and that you’re now my bitch.”
John started to turn away but Grady rolled onto his side and stopped him. He pulled John back to the bed. They looked up at the ceiling.
“Your first task is to clean me up.”
“What?”
“I’d have you lick it up but I don’t think you’re ready for that so I’ll let you use a towel. They’re in the bathroom downstairs. I’d hurry up before my father comes back inside.”
John got up to his feet. His dick still straining against the fabric. He walked to the door, thought to ask for some jeans but decided he was lucky to still be wearing his underwear.
“Don’t take too long and don’t jerk yourself off, that thing better still be hard when you get back.”
John unlocked the door, stepped out from the room, and broke into a run. He took the steps easily though his cock bounced when he did. He listened for a moment at the bottom of the stairs, then dashed for the bathroom. He got a few towels and ran back as quick as he could. When he got the bottom of the steps he thought he heard the front door open so he ran as fast as he could back up to the second floor. He got to the bedroom door and was surprised to find it closed, and locked.
“Please hurry up and let me inside. Your father is downstairs,” John whispered.
Grady unlocked the door, opened it a crack.
“Give me your underwear,” he said.
“What?”
Grady held out his hand. John listened for more sounds in the house, decided he couldn’t risk being caught and that he couldn’t determine if his father was headed upstairs, or what he would do if he saw him. He slipped off his underwear and handed them over.
“Get down on your knees,” Grady said.
John looked around again but decided he was naked and at Grady’s mercy so he slunk down to his knees. Grady opened the door and John shuffled inside.
Part 1 / Part 3
Sunday, May 25, 2014
Shadow's Night (Excerpt) Chapter 05 - Boredom
It was late and no one was in the coffee shop. Breakfast had the
most people, lunch was stretched out, and after people got off work was
the most sporadic, but any time she could Heather sat transfixed with a
book. She was supposed to be learning the business, her business, but
it was boring. Her father owned it and she had been running it since
she graduated from high school, a deal they had worked out given her
lack of ambition to go to college. Going some place local felt too much
like going back to high school, if they weren’t the exact same kids it
was still too close, and she didn’t feel like going away, not with her
father the way he was, not with the business being his only support.
She was reading Breakfast of Champions that evening, thinking Vonnegut got it wrong and that she lived in the asshole of the Universe and that if she wasn’t careful she might live there for the rest of her life. She moaned at the thought. She wanted a distraction and she thought about Kevin. She hadn’t talked to him in weeks since he had been back to class. She took out her phone and called him.
“Come down and visit me,” she said as soon as he picked up. “I’m bored and no one is here.”
Alone in his room with one hand pressing the phone to his ear and the other scrolling through his dashboard he looked to the clock. He was bored too and there was nothing he had to do immediately. He agreed and ended the call before he got up from his desk chair, tightened the belt to his jean shorts, and made sure his fly was up. He stuck his phone in his pocket, checked the weight of it there, and headed out.
No one was there to notice him leave. He slipped his shoes on at the front door, pulled the door shut behind him making sure it was locked before he turned on his feet and made the quick five minute walk to Main Street and the coffee shop. He looked through the main window to Heather who looked back with her chin propped on her hand still bored. He opened the door to the smell of coffee and baked goods. His hands in the pockets of his hooded jacket he walked to the counter.
“Do you want something?” she asked.
“Uh,” he said before he looked back to the two people by the window. “I don’t know. Calories, you know, maybe just a tea.”
“No problem, go have a seat and I’ll bring it over,” she said.
He suddenly felt guilty for her waiting on him, and he hadn’t even paid. He reached into his pocket for the few loose dollar bills but when she saw him she shook her head and motioned for him to go where she had told him to go. He pulled out the dollars anyway and put them in the tip cup before he walked to the table, did a quick assessment of where she would need to sit to keep and eye on the door and sat in the opposite spot. He listened to her. She was getting a tea for herself, something to eat.
Was it something to share? He groaned at the thought. He was hungry, just a little bit, but he knew he’d look better if he denied it rather than indulge. She stepped out from behind the counter and walked to him where she set down a tray. There were two teas and two scones.
“You’re mean,” he said.
“Just a few carbs,” she said. “Besides you get plenty of exercise.”
“This will be an extra mile, maybe half,” he said.
“Skinny Mr. Kevin,” she said. She saw him wince at the comment. “Sorry, it just came to mind. We haven’t talked about it in a while. Does your father still check up on you?”
“Sometimes,” he said.
“That’s nice,” she said. “He cares.”
“So what do you want to do?”
“I don’t know, blow my brains out maybe.”
He recoiled at her sarcasm.
“Sorry, it’s been a long day,” she said. “I’m going to buy bullets with my tips.”
He raised an eyebrow at her and crossed one leg over the other to turn away from her slightly mocking her desperate, bitter attitude. She pulled her hands to her face and let out a grunt of disgust before she stretched out her arms and lay face down on the table for a second before she raised her shoulders with an inhale of air.
“That bad?”
“I’m here breakfast, lunch, and dinner everyday. I can take time off here and there, I convinced my father to get someone to help but it’s all just the same. It was bad when there were more people I knew from high school but there’s been two classes since we graduated. They get dumber each year. Somehow the place became hip.
“God, the other day there were a group of teen girls in here who talked about the television show Friends the whole time and how they wanted to go to New York. Boy are they going to be disappointed.”
“Reruns,” he said. “It gives us such bad impressions.”
“My father likes it but ugh, I’d rather be in some bookstore somewhere, reading quietly in the back, only sell things occasionally.”
“People would steal your books,” he said.
“No one steals books,” she said. “They’re not worth anything.”
She broke off a piece of scone and stuck it in her mouth, began to chew. Kevin watched her, looked at his own scone, looked away.
“How’s class?” she asked.
“Boring but I’ll get through it,” he said, “we’re supposed to research our local town and write a piece about it for our final paper. It’s not due for a long time though.”
“Not much to write about here,” she said.
“Some white people took land from some natives who suffered on a reservation until a loophole allowed them to open a casino where poor people of all colors go to gamble and buy cheap cigarettes.”
“Wow, that doesn’t sound bitter at all,” she said.
He laughed mockingly at her causing her to smile.
“So really what do you want to do?” he asked.
“Tarot card reading,” she said.
“Aw, come on?”
“No, it’ll be good.”
She got up from the table and went behind the counter to her bag where she retrieved a cloth bag that held her Tarot cards and returned with it. She sat across from him with renewed energy. She opened the bag, got out the cards, and shuffled them. She held them close to her body with her eyes closed, readied herself across from him before she slid them in his direction. He picked up the cards. They had been through this several times but each time he relied on her instruction and her creativity for what the cards meant.
“You deal your own fate,” she said.
He shuffled the cards, toyed with her a little before she instructed him on how to lay them out for a twenty-one card reading. She looked at them for several minutes when something else caught her eye, a spark. She looked up through the main window to the sidewalk where she saw a young man, a stranger, Conrad, with a cigarette in his hand signaling for someone to join him. The stranger was handsome. He wore a leather jack, the collar up towards his face to protect him from the wind.
“Who is that?” she asked.
Kevin turned on his seat to look out the front window. He looked to the young man, was captivated by his handsome face, his button nose, and kissable lips. He didn’t have to be gay, he thought, anyone would want him.
“Holy shit,” Heather said, “look who’s walking up to him.”
Kevin turned a little more to see the direction the young man was staring to see a familiar person stop in front of him. He knew that face.
“It’s Simon Winters,” she said.
Kevin turned around back to her, his muscles and joints slightly ached by the way he was turned. He let out a grunt of pain and looked her in the eye before he turned back to see the two young men outside the coffee shop talking, then he looked back to her with one ear listening for the door.
“Do you think they’re coming in here?” she asked.
“Has he ever come in here?”
“No, I’ve never seen him in here. He usually sticks to himself. I only ever see him in the library sometimes but he’s always alone. I’ve thought about going up and saying something to him.”
“More like getting his autograph,” he said.
“He’s infamous, not famous,” she replied.
“Is he moving in this direction?”
“I think they are,” she said.
They looked to the door where Conrad pushed his way inside followed by Simon who walked with his hands in his pockets. Heather jumped to her feet and made her way behind the counter to where her patrons took turns looking at each other, the selection of baked goods, and coffee.
“I’m terrible at this,” Conrad said.
“I told you I’ve never been here,” Simon replied. He was annoyed for having been dragged along and didn’t want it to be any easier.
“Can I help you?” Heather asked.
Conrad leaned against the counter and looked into Heather’s eyes, looked her over before looking to Kevin who sat staring back at him. They caught each other’s eyes and looked away, each with nearly the same thought, he’s cruising me, here. Conrad shook off the thought.
“I usually just get black coffee and a scone,” he said.
“We can do that,” she said.
“What about your friend?”
Everyone looked to Simon who held up a hand of slight protest. He looked to the floor and out into the street trying to show no interest.
“He’ll have the same,” Conrad said.
She rang up the order but she wanted to know more. She had an idea.
“I uh, usually call out a name,” she said.
“Conrad,” he replied.
Heather and Kevin looked to each other as Conrad began to count out cash. He paid with a ten dollar bill and when he got back the change he dropped a dollar and the change in the tip cup. Simon looked ready to leave but Conrad led him to a table where they sat. Conrad cast one last look across the room to Kevin who had focused back on the Tarot cards on the table. He spied the young man’s muscled calf and the way he played with his hair. Maybe there were queers here after all, he thought, and maybe I should get to know them.
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She was reading Breakfast of Champions that evening, thinking Vonnegut got it wrong and that she lived in the asshole of the Universe and that if she wasn’t careful she might live there for the rest of her life. She moaned at the thought. She wanted a distraction and she thought about Kevin. She hadn’t talked to him in weeks since he had been back to class. She took out her phone and called him.
“Come down and visit me,” she said as soon as he picked up. “I’m bored and no one is here.”
Alone in his room with one hand pressing the phone to his ear and the other scrolling through his dashboard he looked to the clock. He was bored too and there was nothing he had to do immediately. He agreed and ended the call before he got up from his desk chair, tightened the belt to his jean shorts, and made sure his fly was up. He stuck his phone in his pocket, checked the weight of it there, and headed out.
No one was there to notice him leave. He slipped his shoes on at the front door, pulled the door shut behind him making sure it was locked before he turned on his feet and made the quick five minute walk to Main Street and the coffee shop. He looked through the main window to Heather who looked back with her chin propped on her hand still bored. He opened the door to the smell of coffee and baked goods. His hands in the pockets of his hooded jacket he walked to the counter.
“Do you want something?” she asked.
“Uh,” he said before he looked back to the two people by the window. “I don’t know. Calories, you know, maybe just a tea.”
“No problem, go have a seat and I’ll bring it over,” she said.
He suddenly felt guilty for her waiting on him, and he hadn’t even paid. He reached into his pocket for the few loose dollar bills but when she saw him she shook her head and motioned for him to go where she had told him to go. He pulled out the dollars anyway and put them in the tip cup before he walked to the table, did a quick assessment of where she would need to sit to keep and eye on the door and sat in the opposite spot. He listened to her. She was getting a tea for herself, something to eat.
Was it something to share? He groaned at the thought. He was hungry, just a little bit, but he knew he’d look better if he denied it rather than indulge. She stepped out from behind the counter and walked to him where she set down a tray. There were two teas and two scones.
“You’re mean,” he said.
“Just a few carbs,” she said. “Besides you get plenty of exercise.”
“This will be an extra mile, maybe half,” he said.
“Skinny Mr. Kevin,” she said. She saw him wince at the comment. “Sorry, it just came to mind. We haven’t talked about it in a while. Does your father still check up on you?”
“Sometimes,” he said.
“That’s nice,” she said. “He cares.”
“So what do you want to do?”
“I don’t know, blow my brains out maybe.”
He recoiled at her sarcasm.
“Sorry, it’s been a long day,” she said. “I’m going to buy bullets with my tips.”
He raised an eyebrow at her and crossed one leg over the other to turn away from her slightly mocking her desperate, bitter attitude. She pulled her hands to her face and let out a grunt of disgust before she stretched out her arms and lay face down on the table for a second before she raised her shoulders with an inhale of air.
“That bad?”
“I’m here breakfast, lunch, and dinner everyday. I can take time off here and there, I convinced my father to get someone to help but it’s all just the same. It was bad when there were more people I knew from high school but there’s been two classes since we graduated. They get dumber each year. Somehow the place became hip.
“God, the other day there were a group of teen girls in here who talked about the television show Friends the whole time and how they wanted to go to New York. Boy are they going to be disappointed.”
“Reruns,” he said. “It gives us such bad impressions.”
“My father likes it but ugh, I’d rather be in some bookstore somewhere, reading quietly in the back, only sell things occasionally.”
“People would steal your books,” he said.
“No one steals books,” she said. “They’re not worth anything.”
She broke off a piece of scone and stuck it in her mouth, began to chew. Kevin watched her, looked at his own scone, looked away.
“How’s class?” she asked.
“Boring but I’ll get through it,” he said, “we’re supposed to research our local town and write a piece about it for our final paper. It’s not due for a long time though.”
“Not much to write about here,” she said.
“Some white people took land from some natives who suffered on a reservation until a loophole allowed them to open a casino where poor people of all colors go to gamble and buy cheap cigarettes.”
“Wow, that doesn’t sound bitter at all,” she said.
He laughed mockingly at her causing her to smile.
“So really what do you want to do?” he asked.
“Tarot card reading,” she said.
“Aw, come on?”
“No, it’ll be good.”
She got up from the table and went behind the counter to her bag where she retrieved a cloth bag that held her Tarot cards and returned with it. She sat across from him with renewed energy. She opened the bag, got out the cards, and shuffled them. She held them close to her body with her eyes closed, readied herself across from him before she slid them in his direction. He picked up the cards. They had been through this several times but each time he relied on her instruction and her creativity for what the cards meant.
“You deal your own fate,” she said.
He shuffled the cards, toyed with her a little before she instructed him on how to lay them out for a twenty-one card reading. She looked at them for several minutes when something else caught her eye, a spark. She looked up through the main window to the sidewalk where she saw a young man, a stranger, Conrad, with a cigarette in his hand signaling for someone to join him. The stranger was handsome. He wore a leather jack, the collar up towards his face to protect him from the wind.
“Who is that?” she asked.
Kevin turned on his seat to look out the front window. He looked to the young man, was captivated by his handsome face, his button nose, and kissable lips. He didn’t have to be gay, he thought, anyone would want him.
“Holy shit,” Heather said, “look who’s walking up to him.”
Kevin turned a little more to see the direction the young man was staring to see a familiar person stop in front of him. He knew that face.
“It’s Simon Winters,” she said.
Kevin turned around back to her, his muscles and joints slightly ached by the way he was turned. He let out a grunt of pain and looked her in the eye before he turned back to see the two young men outside the coffee shop talking, then he looked back to her with one ear listening for the door.
“Do you think they’re coming in here?” she asked.
“Has he ever come in here?”
“No, I’ve never seen him in here. He usually sticks to himself. I only ever see him in the library sometimes but he’s always alone. I’ve thought about going up and saying something to him.”
“More like getting his autograph,” he said.
“He’s infamous, not famous,” she replied.
“Is he moving in this direction?”
“I think they are,” she said.
They looked to the door where Conrad pushed his way inside followed by Simon who walked with his hands in his pockets. Heather jumped to her feet and made her way behind the counter to where her patrons took turns looking at each other, the selection of baked goods, and coffee.
“I’m terrible at this,” Conrad said.
“I told you I’ve never been here,” Simon replied. He was annoyed for having been dragged along and didn’t want it to be any easier.
“Can I help you?” Heather asked.
Conrad leaned against the counter and looked into Heather’s eyes, looked her over before looking to Kevin who sat staring back at him. They caught each other’s eyes and looked away, each with nearly the same thought, he’s cruising me, here. Conrad shook off the thought.
“I usually just get black coffee and a scone,” he said.
“We can do that,” she said.
“What about your friend?”
Everyone looked to Simon who held up a hand of slight protest. He looked to the floor and out into the street trying to show no interest.
“He’ll have the same,” Conrad said.
She rang up the order but she wanted to know more. She had an idea.
“I uh, usually call out a name,” she said.
“Conrad,” he replied.
Heather and Kevin looked to each other as Conrad began to count out cash. He paid with a ten dollar bill and when he got back the change he dropped a dollar and the change in the tip cup. Simon looked ready to leave but Conrad led him to a table where they sat. Conrad cast one last look across the room to Kevin who had focused back on the Tarot cards on the table. He spied the young man’s muscled calf and the way he played with his hair. Maybe there were queers here after all, he thought, and maybe I should get to know them.
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Shadow's Night (Excerpt) Chapter 03 - Kevin
Kevin awoke to his alarm
clock feeling as if he didn’t have time to sleep. He looked to see it
was 5:30 A.M. and turned off the alarm. He sat up from his bed feeling
renewed but slightly disoriented. He dropped to the floor where he laid
out on his back, put his knees into the air, and began to do sit ups.
He counted them under his breath until he reached twenty, then he rolled
over on his stomach and did twenty pushups, jumped to his feet and ran
in place for thirty seconds, did fifteen squat thrusts, then got back
into position for more sit ups. He did seven more cycles before he
stopped just after the last squat thrust. He rolled onto his back for a
moment to catch his breath.
He looked under his bed where he saw it was empty and smiled. He was pleased that there was no clutter, no extra belongings hid somewhere. He had gotten himself organized six years ago before he started high school and he wasn’t going back. He sat up, pushed himself from the floor and stripped off his clothes, dropped them in the hamper and stepped in front of the full length mirror. He was happy with his body for once. His belly and the padding of baby fat on his face were gone.
Everything was in its right place, he told himself. He went to the middle of his room and sat, crossed his legs and assumed his best meditative form. He liked to meditate naked because it felt like his body was the most open. He thought about the day before and everything he had done. He thought about the things he needed to do. He thought about where he had to go, the people he would talk to and deal with and among those people was Thad.
Thad was only minutes away, would be waiting for him on the corner to go for a run. He smiled. No, he told himself, be in the moment, put all those assumptions away somewhere. He had thought it through but life wouldn’t happen exactly that way. Embrace the chaos, he told himself.
There was the sound of his phone telling him he had a text message from Thad. Was he running late? He waited until he felt himself calm down, then he opened his eyes and got back to his feet. He retrieved his phone, just a good morning message telling him Thad was five minutes early and missing him. He smiled and deleted the message before he put down his phone and went to get his workout clothes from the drawer: a thin pair of shorts, t-shirt, jock strap, and cup. He pulled the jock strap up, placed the cup inside. He looked at himself in the mirror and was delighted because he never thought four years ago he would take pride in his body and exercise. He finished dressing, put on his socks and shoes, made his way out of the quiet house.
He checked to make sure he had his house key tied on a string around his neck, that it hadn’t been pulled off while he slept in some accident or fit of rage before he closed the door and made sure it was locked. He did ten jumping jacks before he dashed down the stairs and across the lawn. He got to the sidewalk and turned. He picked up his speed in anticipation of seeing Thad.
Suburban, colonial style houses that had been built over a hundred years ago, the rest of the neighborhood was still quiet. Only a few mothers and fathers were awake, maybe the poor soul delivering newspapers, garbage collectors and people headed to work knew about this time and many of them probably didn’t appreciate it. He liked this time of the morning, something few people ever knew about because most of them were still asleep. Although there would be fewer of them with Fall approaching but sometimes it felt like only him and Thad as they ran the streets and through the park. That made it easier.
He spotted Thad on the corner in the grass stretching his legs and smiled. The man was possibly twenty years older than him but fit and good natured unlike any other person his age. He could be disarming, took an interest in people like when Thad had been impressed that Kevin was a conscientious eater and exercised regularly. Kevin felt comfortable admitting to him that he struggled with anorexia in high school until his parents got him a therapist who got him a personal trainer. He learned about food and exercise the right way, he said.
They had talked for a long time about food and work. Kevin had just begun his internship but he was eager to find out how the newspaper worked. Thad had told him he was in the photography business for over a decade feeling that it would scare him but Kevin was intrigued by his career. They talked any chance they got. They met frequently on breaks and lunch. Kevin asked him about his previous life and sometimes Thad told him about what it was like as if he wanted to have it again, as if they could have it together.
But even as comfortable as they were with each other coming out was still a process. Finally, after weeks of talking Thad admitted that he had broken up with his long-term boyfriend before moving to town. Kevin sat in silence for a long time. He knew that each had suspected the other was gay but not wanting to offend each other they assumed the other was straight, neither of them even in these days wanted to risk offending the other by making some assumption. Kevin had never told anyone his own secret but then he just said it.
“I haven’t had a boyfriend yet but I’m looking forward to it.”
They both looked at each other and laughed suddenly feeling ridiculous for not recognizing in the other, for being afraid of saying something for weeks. After that it became more comfortable until Thad asked him to go jogging. Kevin felt himself being excited about the idea. Was it a date? Was it the beginning of a relationship? He found himself flirting with the older man if even only accidentally or unconsciously until he recognized what he had done, what he had said. Thad noticed but said that he was afraid of being in a relationship with someone so young, but that was months ago.
Kevin came to a stop a few feet from Thad after signaling to each other a hello. He began to run in place. He looked up and down the streets but there was no traffic, a few inside houselights were on. He signaled for Thad to get ready.
“How are you this morning?” Thad asked.
“Good,” Kevin said. “How are you?”
“Old,” Thad said.
“Better hurry then before you get any older. Last one to the park has to pay for lunch.”
Kevin began to run away towards the park and Thad gave him a lead before he dashed after him. Thad got close enough to make Kevin look back. Each let out a laugh before they doubled down and began to run as hard as they could. They were even when Thad reached over and slapped playfully at Kevin’s arm. Kevin tried to slap back or at least keep him away. It was a long run into the back of the neighborhood to the park, a preservation, the as of yet unprocessed trees.
Kevin felt as if for once he was leading when Thad stopped playing and gave it his all. He pulled ahead of the young man for just long enough that he touched the park sign first. Kevin slowed himself enough, ran into the sign and let out a laugh.
“You’re too much,” Thad said.
“I think we’re both going to be tired today for work,” Kevin said.
“At least you’re only there for a few hours.”
“So are you,” Kevin said.
“Oh right, well, it’s nice to not have a good job I guess. Hey that reminds me do you want to help me at my studio on Saturday? I’d pay you something under the table, say twenty bucks and maybe a piece of pizza.”
“Yeah sure,” Kevin said. That would be a good way to earn some money, maybe they could find some time to do something else, but then he reminded himself of where they were. He signaled for Thad to follow him.
“I don’t know how I let you talk me into this,” Thad said.
They walked into the park, along the familiar trail. Down one path, then off on another, and yet another going in a direction few walkers ever went. Kevin signaled with his head for Thad to follow him along a thin path through the trees. They had fooled around in different spots all over the park, mostly kissing and groping.
He moved on impulse, searching out some perfect spot. He walked until he felt far enough away so they wouldn’t be seen. They stopped to catch their breath, to listen and make sure no one else was around and they wouldn’t be disturbed.
Kevin looked to the older man, stared him in the eye before he pulled off his shirt and threw it to him. Thad shook his head as if he was shaking away guilt before he pulled off his own shirt. Kevin let his shorts drop, stuck his thumbs in the waist band of his jock, ran them between the fabric and his own skin, moved his thumbs down to the straps where he toyed with them, toyed with Thad’s desire.
“You’re naughty,” Thad said.
“Maybe we both are,” Kevin said.
They listened for a moment to make sure no one had heard them. They stepped to each other with their hands slightly out anticipating the touch. They reached for skin at the same time. They were simultaneously delighted by the feel of their touch and being touched.
They kissed.
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He looked under his bed where he saw it was empty and smiled. He was pleased that there was no clutter, no extra belongings hid somewhere. He had gotten himself organized six years ago before he started high school and he wasn’t going back. He sat up, pushed himself from the floor and stripped off his clothes, dropped them in the hamper and stepped in front of the full length mirror. He was happy with his body for once. His belly and the padding of baby fat on his face were gone.
Everything was in its right place, he told himself. He went to the middle of his room and sat, crossed his legs and assumed his best meditative form. He liked to meditate naked because it felt like his body was the most open. He thought about the day before and everything he had done. He thought about the things he needed to do. He thought about where he had to go, the people he would talk to and deal with and among those people was Thad.
Thad was only minutes away, would be waiting for him on the corner to go for a run. He smiled. No, he told himself, be in the moment, put all those assumptions away somewhere. He had thought it through but life wouldn’t happen exactly that way. Embrace the chaos, he told himself.
There was the sound of his phone telling him he had a text message from Thad. Was he running late? He waited until he felt himself calm down, then he opened his eyes and got back to his feet. He retrieved his phone, just a good morning message telling him Thad was five minutes early and missing him. He smiled and deleted the message before he put down his phone and went to get his workout clothes from the drawer: a thin pair of shorts, t-shirt, jock strap, and cup. He pulled the jock strap up, placed the cup inside. He looked at himself in the mirror and was delighted because he never thought four years ago he would take pride in his body and exercise. He finished dressing, put on his socks and shoes, made his way out of the quiet house.
He checked to make sure he had his house key tied on a string around his neck, that it hadn’t been pulled off while he slept in some accident or fit of rage before he closed the door and made sure it was locked. He did ten jumping jacks before he dashed down the stairs and across the lawn. He got to the sidewalk and turned. He picked up his speed in anticipation of seeing Thad.
Suburban, colonial style houses that had been built over a hundred years ago, the rest of the neighborhood was still quiet. Only a few mothers and fathers were awake, maybe the poor soul delivering newspapers, garbage collectors and people headed to work knew about this time and many of them probably didn’t appreciate it. He liked this time of the morning, something few people ever knew about because most of them were still asleep. Although there would be fewer of them with Fall approaching but sometimes it felt like only him and Thad as they ran the streets and through the park. That made it easier.
He spotted Thad on the corner in the grass stretching his legs and smiled. The man was possibly twenty years older than him but fit and good natured unlike any other person his age. He could be disarming, took an interest in people like when Thad had been impressed that Kevin was a conscientious eater and exercised regularly. Kevin felt comfortable admitting to him that he struggled with anorexia in high school until his parents got him a therapist who got him a personal trainer. He learned about food and exercise the right way, he said.
They had talked for a long time about food and work. Kevin had just begun his internship but he was eager to find out how the newspaper worked. Thad had told him he was in the photography business for over a decade feeling that it would scare him but Kevin was intrigued by his career. They talked any chance they got. They met frequently on breaks and lunch. Kevin asked him about his previous life and sometimes Thad told him about what it was like as if he wanted to have it again, as if they could have it together.
But even as comfortable as they were with each other coming out was still a process. Finally, after weeks of talking Thad admitted that he had broken up with his long-term boyfriend before moving to town. Kevin sat in silence for a long time. He knew that each had suspected the other was gay but not wanting to offend each other they assumed the other was straight, neither of them even in these days wanted to risk offending the other by making some assumption. Kevin had never told anyone his own secret but then he just said it.
“I haven’t had a boyfriend yet but I’m looking forward to it.”
They both looked at each other and laughed suddenly feeling ridiculous for not recognizing in the other, for being afraid of saying something for weeks. After that it became more comfortable until Thad asked him to go jogging. Kevin felt himself being excited about the idea. Was it a date? Was it the beginning of a relationship? He found himself flirting with the older man if even only accidentally or unconsciously until he recognized what he had done, what he had said. Thad noticed but said that he was afraid of being in a relationship with someone so young, but that was months ago.
Kevin came to a stop a few feet from Thad after signaling to each other a hello. He began to run in place. He looked up and down the streets but there was no traffic, a few inside houselights were on. He signaled for Thad to get ready.
“How are you this morning?” Thad asked.
“Good,” Kevin said. “How are you?”
“Old,” Thad said.
“Better hurry then before you get any older. Last one to the park has to pay for lunch.”
Kevin began to run away towards the park and Thad gave him a lead before he dashed after him. Thad got close enough to make Kevin look back. Each let out a laugh before they doubled down and began to run as hard as they could. They were even when Thad reached over and slapped playfully at Kevin’s arm. Kevin tried to slap back or at least keep him away. It was a long run into the back of the neighborhood to the park, a preservation, the as of yet unprocessed trees.
Kevin felt as if for once he was leading when Thad stopped playing and gave it his all. He pulled ahead of the young man for just long enough that he touched the park sign first. Kevin slowed himself enough, ran into the sign and let out a laugh.
“You’re too much,” Thad said.
“I think we’re both going to be tired today for work,” Kevin said.
“At least you’re only there for a few hours.”
“So are you,” Kevin said.
“Oh right, well, it’s nice to not have a good job I guess. Hey that reminds me do you want to help me at my studio on Saturday? I’d pay you something under the table, say twenty bucks and maybe a piece of pizza.”
“Yeah sure,” Kevin said. That would be a good way to earn some money, maybe they could find some time to do something else, but then he reminded himself of where they were. He signaled for Thad to follow him.
“I don’t know how I let you talk me into this,” Thad said.
They walked into the park, along the familiar trail. Down one path, then off on another, and yet another going in a direction few walkers ever went. Kevin signaled with his head for Thad to follow him along a thin path through the trees. They had fooled around in different spots all over the park, mostly kissing and groping.
He moved on impulse, searching out some perfect spot. He walked until he felt far enough away so they wouldn’t be seen. They stopped to catch their breath, to listen and make sure no one else was around and they wouldn’t be disturbed.
Kevin looked to the older man, stared him in the eye before he pulled off his shirt and threw it to him. Thad shook his head as if he was shaking away guilt before he pulled off his own shirt. Kevin let his shorts drop, stuck his thumbs in the waist band of his jock, ran them between the fabric and his own skin, moved his thumbs down to the straps where he toyed with them, toyed with Thad’s desire.
“You’re naughty,” Thad said.
“Maybe we both are,” Kevin said.
They listened for a moment to make sure no one had heard them. They stepped to each other with their hands slightly out anticipating the touch. They reached for skin at the same time. They were simultaneously delighted by the feel of their touch and being touched.
They kissed.
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