You Don't Want To Know


by Mickey S

Chapter Three

There was so much more of the story to tell Steve I waited until the next day. It was his day off from classes so he was going into the shop with me. That would give me lots of time to tell him the rest, or however much more I decided to tell him. He spent the first couple of hours in the office grading papers but then at lunch I picked up where I'd left off the night before.

* * * * *

It was the Tuesday of my last week of summer vacation and I hadn't told Richie I was going away. I was a little nervous about bringing it up, not knowing how he'd react. We never talked and everything we did was on his schedule. I actually considered not saying anything at all, just not showing up the next week, but even though we hadn't formed any kind of personal relationship, I felt I at least owed him some notice. The sex had gotten better and better as the summer went on, though it was still pretty mechanical and impersonal. On some level I was still a little afraid of him so I was relieved that I wouldn't be seeing him again, but I knew I was going to miss the sex.

I waited until we were leaving the motel to bring it up.

"Um, this is gonna be our last week doing this 'cause I'm going away to college this weekend."

"What?! You're going' away? Why didn't you say something sooner?"

"Well, I figured you probably knew. After all, summer vacation is over and just about everybody goes back to school around Labor Day."

"Yeah, but you work at the hospital. I didn't know you went to school."

"That's just a summer job. I'm starting college next week."

"Shit! So where are you going?"

"Rutgers, in New Brunswick."

"Fuck, that's only like 40 miles away. That's not far at all. You made it sound like you were going across the country or something."

"Well, I'm going to live on campus and I don't have a car so it might as well be far away."

He was quiet the rest of the way back. When we pulled into the supermarket parking lot I asked him the question that was on my mind.

"You think maybe you can find the time to go to the motel again Thursday, considering it's our last time?"

He grinned. "You mean you want one last fuck, right?" You've really become hooked on my dick, haven't you, kid? I'll see what I can do."

Thursday night Richie took me back to the motel for what he had referred to as one last fuck. I guess he was as hooked on my ass as I was on his dick since he made time in his schedule for it. As soon as we got into the room we both stripped and I got into my usual position, kneeling on the edge of the bed bent forward with my ass in the air. He gave me the tube of KY and I reached up between my legs and lubed myself, stretching my hole a bit with my fingers. I was still taking the Valium before leaving the house so I didn't have any problem getting myself ready for his huge schlong.

He mounted me and began his mechanical fucking. It was always the same with him pounding into me as I guessed he would have into any tight hole. I stroked my dick slowly, trying not to get too aroused, pacing myself so I could come when I sensed he was getting close.  I didn't mind the position. It was comfortable and I got off on the sex. If I'd been with a guy I had feelings for I would have preferred to be on my back so I could look into his eyes, but that didn't matter with Richie. If I was just a tight hole for him to fuck, he was just a huge dick to satisfy my craving to be filled up. Usually after he came he'd pull out and go into the bathroom to clean up while I lay on the bed catching my breath. Then we both got dressed in silence and left.

This time he came back from the bathroom and lay down on the bed next to me. He was on his side, leaning on his elbow propping his head up with his hand. I looked up and down his smooth muscular body and felt my dick start to get hard again. His cock was still half swollen, hanging across his hip and touching the mattress.

"So, kid, do you know what your class schedule is going to be yet?"

"No, I know what courses I'm taking but I won't know the schedule until I get down there."

He thought for a minute. "Okay, meet me in front of the New Brunswick train station at 7:30 Tuesday night. We'll see if we can't figure out some time when we're both free."

I agreed to meet him although I wasn't sure I would. All summer I'd enjoyed the sex but had been scared. Not just of him, although what little I knew of him was scary, but I was also afraid because for the first time I was being gay and someone might find out. I'd been paranoid all summer that someone might see me when Richie picked me up or dropped me off behind the supermarket. I knew that going off to college would be the beginning of a new life for me. I hadn't even thought about whether I'd come out at school, planning on playing it by ear, but if I met Richie in New Brunswick, I would be bringing part of my old life to school with me, the gay part.

Deep down I think I knew I was going to meet him, though. In spite of the fact that we were still total strangers, there was something about him that fascinated me, that drew me to him. And I think he felt the same way about me, even though he didn't consider himself to be at all gay. So Tuesday evening I made excuses to my new acquaintances in the dorm and went into town to the train station. I'd only been waiting a few minutes when I saw the white Caddy coming up Albany Street. I looked around to make sure no one who knew me was nearby and jumped into the car as it came to a stop.

"You got your schedule with you, kid?"


Richie drove around the block and back down the street without another word. We crossed the bridge and turned left, following the river. In about half a mile we came to a park and he turned off. He backed the car into a parking space in a small lot near the river. I pulled my class schedule from my pocket but he waved it away.

"How about first you relieve a little of the tension I built up in traffic on the way down here?" He unbuckled his belt and unfastened his pants, lifted his butt off the seat and pushed his pants down around his knees, then leaned his head back, his eyes nearly closed. "Go to it, kid."

His dick was half-hard and lay across his right hip, pointing at me. I leaned over and gently picked it up, giving it a light squeeze as I bent down to take it in my mouth. It was so much easier to suck him when he wasn't fully erect at the start. That way I was able to suck his whole dick into my throat and then get used to it as it grew. I still wasn't good at deep-throating him in the car. In the motel he could fuck my mouth as I lay on my back in bed and that worked, but in the car I usually just took him until the head was in my throat. I wrapped a hand around the base of his dick, tightened my grip and moved my hand up and down along with my mouth. I used my tongue to stimulate his head and my fist to work his shaft. All the while I sucked as hard as I could each time I pulled back. He rested his hands lightly on the back of my head, not really forcing me down on him but making it clear that he could, that he was in charge. I had been bobbing up and down on his huge rod for over five minutes when his shortened breath let me know he was getting close. I redoubled my efforts and in no time he gasped as he started shooting volley after volley of his hot thick spunk down my throat. I clamped my lips tightly around him to keep any from leaking and swallowed furiously.

As soon as he stopped shooting he pulled me off. His head was always very sensitive after he came. And maybe once he came down from his orgasmic high he remembered he was with a guy and wanted to separate as soon as he could. At any rate, once he came it was over.

I sat up as he pulled himself together. After he had his clothes straightened out I handed him my class schedule and he looked it over.

"What the hell kind of classes are these you're taking?"

"Um, I'm going to major in theater."

"You mean you're gonna be an actor? I didn't think they taught that in college."

"Well, there are drama majors but I could never get up on a stage. I'd be too scared. I'm more interested in behind the scenes, like set design, props, lighting, that kind of stuff."

"You mean like interior decorating for the stage? That's pretty stereotypically faggy."

"Well, it's not exactly the same but similar. I like to use furnishings and props to create a scene."

"And there are lots of jobs doing that?"

"Some. Most likely I'll end up doing interior design, but I love the theater."

He looked back at the schedule for a moment.

"It looks like Tuesday afternoons will be best for both of us. I'll pick you up at the train station at 1:30. There's a motel out on Route 1 where we can go. That'll be a lot more comfortable than the car."

"You can get off from work in the afternoon?"

"Sure, I make my own hours. And I've got some business in this area I can take care of while I'm down here."

Richie had never talked about his work before. In fact, he'd never talked about anything other than making arrangements for getting together and sexual techniques. This was the longest conversation we'd ever had so I took a chance with an innocent question.

"So what kind of work do you do?"

"Waste management."

I thought about that for a few seconds, wondering if there was anything sinister in it.

"You mean garbage collection?"

"Well, it's not like I'm out there on the trucks." He smiled. "I'm more into the management and less into the waste."

"And you come down this way for that?"

"Not that, necessarily. You could say I've got a finger in lots of different enterprises."

"Oh, okay." I didn't know what else to say. I knew the mob was into all kinds of illegal activities so I assumed that was what he meant but I sure wasn't going to pry. He must have seen something in my expression though.

"What's on your mind, kid? Have you been talking to anyone about me?" He seemed a little put out and his demeanor was threatening.

"N-no, I haven't said a word about you to anyone. It's just, well, some of the nurses were talking about you back when you were in the hospital."

"Well, don't believe everything you hear. People like to gossip and think the worst. I may be involved in a lot of things you probably don't want to know about, but that shouldn't affect what we do. The less you know, the better."

He started up the car and drove off without saying anything else. He dropped me off at the train station with a reminder to meet him back there at 1:30 the next Tuesday afternoon. As I walked back to my dorm I knew I would, even though I was more sure than ever that being involved with him could lead to big trouble if I wasn't careful.

For the next two months every Tuesday afternoon was the same. Richie picked me up at the train station and we went to a motel that was a little older and shabbier than the one back home where he fucked my brains out. It was all very impersonal and mechanical with little physical contact other than what was necessary. I enjoyed having my ass fucked but really would have liked more. I was 18, had been fucked over a dozen times but had never been kissed, never cuddled, never experienced any kind of foreplay. I knew better than to expect any of that with Richie, but I suppose my dissatisfaction was beginning to show. The week before Thanksgiving Richie questioned me as we were getting dressed after another routine fucking.

"So what's bothering you, kid? You look like you've got something on your mind."

"I don't know if it's exactly bothering me, sir. I just wonder why we're doing this."

"Why? What do you mean? Don't you get off on getting laid? Your dick sure seems to enjoy it."

"Yeah, I like the sex just fine, but I'm wondering why me? I mean, sure you like to fuck me but I'm just a hole to you. Why bothering driving an hour to come down here? Why not just find someone more convenient?"

Richie frowned and then sat down in the one armchair in the room and pointed to the bed.

"Sit down, Tom." I was shocked. It was the first time he'd ever called me by my name. I had been pretty sure he didn't even remember what it was but was afraid to bring it up. I sat on the side of the bed and faced him.

"Okay, first, I don't want to ever hear you say you're just a hole again. You're a good kid and if you got into school here you've got a pretty good head on your shoulders, too."

"Well, I don't think of myself as just a hole but that's the way you seem to treat me. You never talk to me like I was a person. I'm just somebody to fuck. I'm not complaining but really, you've got a wife and I'm sure if you wanted more you could find someone closer to home. There's nothing personal in what we're doing and even if you were into guys I can't see why you're here with me since I'm pretty average looking."

Richie was quiet for a minute. When he finally spoke it was very quietly.

"When I was about your age, I was pretty wild. I was headstrong and wouldn't listen to anyone. I did a lot of things and took a lot of chances I shouldn't have and ended up spending a few years as a guest of the state. While I was in the joint I had sex with a guy for the first time. A lot of the guys were doing it as a release since no pussy was available. It also established a kind of pecking order. It was a power thing. I liked it for both reasons, but I discovered I liked it just as sex, too. Of course, once I got out I couldn't do anything like that again. I got married and I usually have a broad or two on the side. I've fucked a few gals up the ass but it's not the same as being with a guy. In my position, with my associates, I'm not exactly able to pick up guys to screw. I have a bit of a reputation with women and people expect me to be with them. Even my wife expects it. But a guy? No way!"

"So now that you've found a guy you can fuck you're sticking with him?"

"Now that I've found a guy I think I can trust who's also a hot fuck, sure. I can trust you, can't I?"

"Sure, sir. I don't want anyone to know what we've been doing any more than you do."

"Well, I think maybe I have a bit more to lose than you, but I trust you. We're both enjoying this so we're in it together. And enough of calling me sir. It's Richie. Most of my associates call me Dick, but I like the name Richie from when I was a kid."

"Yes, s-, I mean, Richie." I took a chance but was still careful with my wording. "So are you saying you like making it with me not just because I'm a hole to fuck, but because I'm a guy?"

"If you're asking if I'm a fag like you, don't even suggest it. You're the one who's into dick, not me. And I'm also into pussy. Okay, you've got the best ass I've ever had and I like you, but that's as far as it goes."

"All right, I think I understand. I won't expect any gay stuff like kissing or anything from you, but since you like me can't we at least talk when we're together?"

"What do you think we're doin' now, kid?"

"Yeah, it's great that were finally communicating, but can we just act more naturally whenever we're together? Since we both like what we're doing, why keep acting like we don't?"

"Okay, I get you. Just don't expect me to be all lovey-dovey."

"Oh, don't worry, I won't."

* * * * *

"So you continued your Tuesday afternoon trysts with him at the motel?" Steve asked as he helped me close up the store. I'd been talking most of the afternoon between customers.

"Yeah, but it was a lot more comfortable after that. Richie and I talked more, me about school, my classes and the new friends I was making, him mostly small talk although occasionally about his family. In addition to his wife he had a son three years younger than me."

"And did the sex get any better?"

"Some, partly because we were more comfortable with each other. He didn't have to act the tough guy and I wasn't quite as afraid of him after that talk. But also because once he admitted he liked guys, at least a little, he allowed himself more physical contact. We were still doing it in a modified doggie style, but sometimes he'd reach around me and play with my nipples. He didn't touch my dick but he'd reach under me and grab my balls now and then. Nothing too heavy, just a light tug or squeeze. You know how I like it."

"Yeah, I sure do. It sounds like Richie taught you lots of things."

"He did, and it wasn't just sex. Toward the end of my sophomore year he made arrangements that not only got us further entangled but set me on my 'career path' if you can call this a career." I swept my arm around, gesturing to the antiques surrounding us.

"He didn't get you involved in his illegal activities, did he?"

"Not directly. Neither one of us wanted that kind of involvement. I'll explain it over dinner."

To be continued.