Date: Thu, 20 Jan 2011 13:41:39 -0600 From: Scott Nelson Subject: An Equal Trade, chapter 2 As I pulled into the garage and stepped outside into the bitter New York cold, I heard a loud and repetitive `smacking' sound coming from the inside of the house. I recognized the sound at once as Dustin's brutal kicks colliding with his 150lb punching bag. I felt butterflies enter my stomach immediately as I entered the training room and saw his hairy, sweaty legs flex with each kick. When he noticed I was in the room, he stopped his work out and showed me his sexy side-smile. He approached me with his hand and footwraps still on, and he lightly pushed me up against the wall. The smell of his sweaty body inches from mine was intoxicating. I knew that he was used to sweating so much, having experienced the brutal Georgia summers. But to me, it was fascinating. He casually lifted me up so we were face to face and embraced me in a warm kiss. These moments are what I live for. I would go so far as to say that Dustin was flawless, by the way he knew to slowly flex his bicep just inches from my face. He even allowed me to feel up on the rock hard peaks. In fact, he enjoyed the feel of my soft, small hands admiring his tanned muscle. "I missed you today." he said softly in my ear. His romantic side was in control, for now. Never mind that I was still wearing a nice suit; I could get it cleaned. I would be crazy to leave the room now, with Dustin wearing only a pair of black, silk gym shorts. "Well, I missed you too.." I said quietly as a smile crept up on my face. "Yeah?" he flashed that sly smile at me again as he got closer. "Very, very much so..," I started as he put his arms on either side of me against the wall. "I even had the idea of getting some dinner. Are you hungry?" "Ask these guys." he smirked as he pointed to his pecs. To humor him, I looked at his large pecs and asked, "Are you guys hungry?", holding back a laugh. He bounced his pecs back and forth with ease, then said, "Guess that's a yes. I'm gonna shower. Wanna join me?" "How could I say no?" I responded, which prompted him to pick me up completely off the ground and into his arms. You might think that a grown man would feel belittled by easily being carried by such a young person. But, it should be obvious by now that Dustin is no average teenager. His immense strength is backed by his Southern roots, and I learned quickly within our relationship to not question his unmistakable capability to lay down the law if needed. So, instead of responding like an ego bruised child when he lifted me effortlessly, I embraced it with open arms; we both knew it was what I wanted. "You're breath taking," he said as he looked down onto my naked, slim body. I was hairless, and resembled the ever so common "twink" image that is rampant in the gay community. Still, though, Dustin found me to be `irresistibly cute', as he put it. "You're so fragile.." he whispered as he stared into my eyes, transfixed just as I was. "I could crush you so easily.. but then, I'm your guardian. Your personal protector. I'd never.." he trailed off as he slid his large hands down to my bare ass. The fire in his eyes was evident.. the longing. I felt him gently squeeze my smooth ass as he looked into my eyes, so deep in love. Without a word, he carried me into the large shower and turned on the refreshingly hot water. "Let me massage your muscles.. they must be sore." I smiled at him as I rubbed his solid shoulder. "You always know just what to do." he said with a concentrated expression on his face as he sat down criss-cross in the shower. I descended with him and wrapped my skinny legs around his waist. I sat facing his wide back as I began to gently massage his shoulders and arms. When you are touching the muscles of a stud like Dustin, it's impossible to not feel the dormant strength that lies within them. Memories flashed in my mind of when I had seen Dustin use his godlike strength; when he pushed my car out of a ditch and back onto the road without any help, when he subdued an instigator on the street for my safety, and even the simple things, like when he carries all of the groceries into the house by himself in one trip every time we go shopping. He truly is an amazing being. Releasing the tension in his body was the least I could do. Besides, it's not like I didn't get any pleasure from feeling his hairy body. Granted, all guys generally had some hair on their bodies, but he had more than a grown man, like you would see on a lumberjack. We sat there blissfully, the only sound being the running water from the shower. It was warm.. so relaxing. Dustin turned around and extended his legs around my waist. I felt his solid calf muscles sit easily against my bony waist, and he effortlessly lifted me towards him so I was on his lap. He looked so stunning, his brown eyes glistening just like his wet hair. "You're so, so beautiful.. my God." he whispered as he leaned into me and kissed me gently on the lips. But, he had no idea how I felt about him. He was an Adonis. There was no other way to put it. Time crept by as we embraced in an enchanting liplocking session, till Dustin broke away and said, "I don't want this to end.. but if we wait any longer, half of the restaurants in the city will be closed." "Aw, but it's only 7:00." I gave him a cute smile. "My muscles are gonna start shrinkin' if I don't give `em some food." He flexed his arms casually. "Well! We wouldn't want that!" I laughed as we both stood up and got out of the shower. But really, I wouldn't want that, which explains why I drop hundreds of dollars on work out supplements for him. The bigger he gets, the happier I get. Dustin rips through the containers of muscle milk and whey protein that I buy for him, as well as the pounds of meat, but I didn't mind it at all. I was just glad he was the kind of guy with the inspiration to build and build his strength. Likewise, I felt blessed that I was able to afford it all without sacrifice. "Do you wanna drive?" I asked him as he put on his thick, camo coat. "Nah, being seen driving a BMW would ruin my country boy image." he said nonchalantly. Yet another thing I loved about Dustin was he stuck to his roots. The reason I had wanted him so badly when I first met him was because he was such a manly redneck, even at such a young age. To see him be converted by the New York City atmosphere would break my heart. "What are you in the mood for, then?" I asked him. "Some juicy steak. Lots of it." he said. Another benefit of Dustin not being some posh Northern kid was he didn't feel compelled to have the most expensive thing. I could have taken him to some cheap diner and he would have been satisfied. "I know just the place, then." I said as I put on a casual sweater and a black trenchcoat. Oh, how we contrasted, with Dustin wearing a pair of worn out Levi's tucked into his brown combat boots, a black tank top, and his red flannel shirt covered by his camo coat. Even more sexy, he wasn't wearing socks with his boots. I think he did that on purpose, `cause he knew how drunk I got off of the smell of his large feet when they've been sweating onto themselves for hours. "Are you ready?" he asked me. "Whenever you are." I told him. He proceeded to open the door leading to the garage and stood by it. "After you." he extended his arm around my shoulders as I walked past him. He turned off the light and shut the door before following me into my BMW Z4. Considering Dustin's roots, a 2000 Chevy Cavalier would be flashy in his eyes. However, Dustin isn't captivated by fast cars like a lot of guys his age. He'd rather have a big truck, like the Toyota Tundra or a Nissan Titan. I could easily see a muscled up redneck like him stepping out of a beautiful truck like that. After all, he'd be sixteen in just a few weeks.. my mind was filled with fantasies. I do, of course, get some sick satisfaction from spoiling him. Thankfully, he had enough sense to prefer foreign automobiles. As a person who grew up with icy winters, I knew better than to take a flashy sports car on the road when I had a new all-wheel drive SUV sitting in my garage, but I loved showing off for Dustin. He showed off for me with his phenomenal strength, and I showed off my financial security. When we drove anywhere, I let Dustin listen to what he wanted. However, if you are at all familiar with the NYC area, you might know that country stations are few and far between. That's fine, though; his mp3 player would provide anyone with enough Garth Brooks or George Strait to last a lifetime. A lot of people stereotype country music as a way for hillbilly's to constantly talk about getting drunk or how big their tires are, but the truth is that it's much more deep than that. A few cross-state car rides with Dustin has taught me that. We finally arrived at our destination: The Strip House. I have heard New Yorkers call it the "best steakhouse in the region". Whether or not that is true is up for debate, but one thing is true: if any place could remind Dustin of the kind of steak he enjoyed in the South, it would be here. "You need some heavier clothes.. maybe some thermals. It's damn near 0 degrees out here." Dustin said to me as we got out of the car. "Actually, I need a man who isn't afraid to huddle with me in public." I said, nudging him with my elbow. "What do I have to be afraid of? I ain't afraid of some Northern punk trying to talk down to me. He'll be kissin' my boots within seconds." he said defiantly as he put a heavy arm around me and pulled me close to his body. It would seem that Dustin is always radiating heat from his body. So convenient for situations such as these. Even better, I could tell that his dominant personality was taking hold. He wouldn't hesitate to crush a guy's skull between his tough thighs, even if he was wearing big, brown combat boots and heavy denim jeans while doing it, and that's what I liked about him. We attracted some looks as we entered the restaurant, but Dustin has a very, very intimidating stare. No doubt he could just as easily divert a person's stare as he could attract it. His superiority was even more apparent when he removed his heavy coat and exposed his large arms and shoulders to onlookers. No matter how thick his flannel shirt was, his colossal arms nearly ripped the sleeves in half. You see a lot of `poser' country boys in NYC, but rarely do you encounter an actual redneck who's been graced by Southern charm. Rarely in New York do you meet a guy who has had a farmer's tan since he was ten from lifting heavy bales of hay from sunrise to sundown. It's even harder to find one who hasn't let the more reclusive northern attitude that is so commonplace in these parts overtake their roots. "So.. maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Look how many people are staring." I said quietly to him. "I'll stand up right here and drop my britches so they have somethin' to stare at." he said, his voice rough. Our waiter walked up to our table and smiled. I guess as a waiter, you learn to adapt to all different kinds of people. "What would you two like to drink?" he asked. "Water, please." I said meekly. "Bud light." he told the waiter. I suddenly felt a bit nervous. What would happen if the waiter asked to see an ID? But then, I took another look at Dustin. His face was rough with facial hair. Not just peach fuzz that you see on a lot of teens. No, I'd go so far as to say that he could grow a full beard faster than I could. His neck was probably twice as thick as our scrawny waiter, and his voice was so deep that it could have shaken the walls. "I'll be back shortly with your drinks." he smiled as he walked away. "You shouldn't try that." I said to him. "I'll decide what I do. Not you. Now sit there and tell me you don't wanna see what happens when I get drunk. Yeah, I thought so." he said right in my ear. "But, you're so young.." I started, slightly concerned for his health although more eager to see how rough he was while intoxicated. "Yeah, but who's the boy at this table? Now quit backtalking or I'll take you outside and whoop your ass with my bare hand." "Sorry sir." I said, feeling incredibly weak. I couldn't even defend myself against this 15-year old powerhouse. I knew better, though. I shouldn't have tried to tell him what to do. It had long ago been established who the man was and who the boy was. "I'll forgive you. Just don't trip up again." he smirked at me and roughly massaged my bony shoulder. "Oh, and you're gonna do somethin' else for me." he told me. "If any of these fuckers say somethin' to you any time tonight, you better tell me. I'll rip some guy a new asshole in a heartbeat. You're mine. No one talks down to the guy I love. Understand?" "I understand, sir." I felt butterflies enter my stomach once more. "You're forgettin' where I'm from. Look me straight in the eyes and tell me you understand me." he told me. I felt overwhelmed by the fire in his eyes, but I forced myself to do as he said. "I understand, sir." I repeated while looking into his hard, brown eyes. "That's a good boy." I felt his muscled up arms rub my back up and down. The waiter came back with our drinks and asked if we were ready to order. "Five orders of your ribeye steak." Dustin said with a straight face. "Wow, five?" The waiter asked. "Yeah, five. I got muscles to feed. You see?" Dustin raised his arm up and flexed his bicep as hard as he could, nearly ripping the fabric of his shirt. "My mistake, sir. And for you?" he turned to me. "A grilled chicken salad, please." I said, sinking a little in my seat. "I'll be back as soon as your food is ready." the waiter said before walking off again. "You think you can eat five of their steaks? They're pretty big." I asked cautiously. Dustin just laughed as he popped off the bottle cap with a quick squeeze of his bicep. "Listen little guy," he said to me. "You know how much I eat. After all, you are the one who buys all the meat that's at home. You're gonna doubt me now?" "Sorry. I didn't mean anything by it." I felt small again. Powerless. "You should watch what you say. If I weren't so forgiving, you'd be under the table licking my boots right now." he smirked. I honestly wouldn't mind that at all.. and he knew it. "Wow, you're already done with that beer?" I asked, looking at the empty bottle. "I'm not some pansy. I could drink all day long and keep on going." he said, putting the bottle down. "What are you like when you get drunk?" I asked him curiously. I knew he drank, and I had given him a few beers before, but he'd never asked for enough to get him gone. "Well, when I was still living with my folks in Georgia, my sister came around with some scrawny city boy. He was sixteen and I was only twelve, but that didn't stop anything. My dad gave me enough whisky so I lost my self-control, then I did what I really wanted to; I made the boy squeal for mercy. Or so my dad says. I don't remember it. All I know is that when I woke up, he was pathetically trying to lift my thighs off from his head. My sister never brought a guy like that one around again." I could smell the beer on his breath with him being so close to me as he told the story. "So you're saying you whipped a 16 year old's ass when you were only 12? And he couldn't do anything about it?" I asked, awestruck. "That's exactly what I'm sayin'. You sound surprised." he laughed deeply. "Sorry. I didn't mean to question your strength." I quickly apologized. "Hah, no. You know better than that." he said as he flexed his arm around me. His bicep dug painfully into my bony arm. "So tell me, what do you think of our waiter?" he asked me. "He's young, but very cute. Skinny, though." he said. "Skinny is a fuckin' understatement. That boy has probably never lifted a weight in his life. Wouldn't you like to see how badly I could strip him of any masculinity he has?" Dustin looked at me with a hunger in his eyes. He had always told me he wanted me to watch him humiliate someone. In a sense, I had. I've seen him give grown men black eyes. But, never have I had the pleasure of watching him break down the spirit of a guy as young as he is. As I say that, though, I know that the waiter is at least three years older. "Think you can work your magic?" I asked, already knowing the answer. "Watch." he said as the waiter approached our table. "Another beer?" the waiter asked in his airy voice. "Make it three. When you bring it back, be prepared to sit down." Dustin told the boy. "Sorry?" the waiter asked. "You heard me." Dustin's gaze then could have penetrated a brick wall. "I-I'll be right back!" he said as he hurried away. "He nearly shit himself just then." I said, mildly surprised. "He ain't seen nothin' yet." I got butterflies as I sat as an observer to the cruelties that would take place in the night. Knowing full well that I couldn't have stopped Dustin if I wanted, I cuddled up to his solid body with the reassurance that I would always be the one he wanted and needed, just as he would be for me.