Date: Thu, 21 Feb 2002 15:35:35 -0500
From: Jeff Allen <jeff_allen15@hotmail.com>
Subject: Love-of-a-Lifetime-2

This is a fictional story dealing with love and consensual sexual
activities between males.  If you are not of legal age, reside in an area
where viewing such material is illegal, or are offended by homosexuality
and/or homosexual themes, leave this site now.

The author retains all rights to this story.  No reproductions or links to
other sites are allowed without the permission of the author.


LOVE OF A LIFETIME

PART 2

     Why is it that the more you WANT to go to sleep, the harder it is to
GET to sleep?  I'd gone to bed early, but I tossed and turned until nearly
midnight.  When I finally did get to sleep, it was deep.  The alarm jolted
me awake at 3:30.  It was so early that Larsen, who usually was
up-'n-at-'em as soon as I woke up, didn't even stir at the foot of the bed.
I stumbled into the bathroom and tried to wake up by standing under the
warm shower.  It didn't work.  I dried off, wrapped the towel around my
waist and padded into the kitchen to put on a pot of the coffee that I
needed so desperately.
     It was now 3:50 a.m. and dark as pitch outside.  The coffee finished
brewing, and I heard C.Z.'s car pull into the driveway.  Larsen heard it
too and was standing by the door wagging his tail so hard I thought it
would fall off.  I opened the door just as C.Z. was about to knock.

     "Sorry, I'm a little early."  He was dressed in jeans, sneakers and a
short sleeve sweat shirt.  The air was much cooler than it had been
yesterday.

     "This whole thing is a little early.  Come on in."

     I stepped out of the way as he came in the cabin and started greeting
Larsen.

     "Let me pull on some clothes.  Do you want coffee?"

     He headed toward the kitchen.  "That would be great.  I'll get some.
Do you have a cup I can take in the truck?"

     I called back to him as I was pulling on some jeans.  "There should be
a couple of thermal mugs up in the cupboard.  Pour me one also.  I haven't
had any yet.  I take mine black, but if you need anything there's sugar in
the cupboard and milk in the fridge."

     "Got it thanks."

     He walked into the bedroom with the mugs of coffee just as I finished
pulling a sweat shirt over my head.

     "I really appreciate your doing this, Andy.  My hip is really sore
today.  I don't think I'd have been able to work the clutch over the whole
route."

     "It's no problem, buddy.  Just keep me awake as I'm driving!"

     We headed outside.  Larsen joined us as he never missed an opportunity
for a ride in the truck.  C.Z. had already picked up the papers from the
drop point so we moved the load from his car into my truck and off we went.

     The entire route took nearly two hours.  We chatted companionably the
whole way so the time went by quicky.  C.Z. told me stories about some of
his customers, and he provided a lot of local history.  I found his whole
bearing was much more mature than his 16 years.  I chalked that up to the
heavy responsibilities he'd been forced to accept so early in life.
     When the subject of his mother and her illness came up, he teared up
momentarily and revealed that she really was in the last stages of heart
failure from a viral infection that had eroded her heart valves.  He said
they were both praying that she would live to see his graduation from high
school in a year and a half.  I got a little choked up at that myself as
memories of the pain of losing Grams came flooding back.

     We finished the route and were back at my cabin by about 6:30.  C.Z.
opened his door, and Larsen bounded out of the truck and into the woods in
search of another rabbit.

     "Would you like another cup of coffee?"

     "Thanks, Andy.  That would be nice.  I can't stay very long.  I've got
to get home to help mom get ready for church, but I could use another cup.
I didn't sleep very well last night."

     "Yeah, neither did I.  I don't know how you manage to get up so early
every day."

     He shrugged his shoulders.  "You just sort of get used to it.  I've
been doing it since I was eleven.  Mom drove me around on the route at
first, but then she got too bad to drive.  I've been doing the route by
myself for the last two years."

     "But how did you do that before you got your driver's license?"

     "I just did.  There wasn't any other choice.  I think the police knew
I was underage, but no one ever stopped me."  He grinned.  "Besides, there
wasn't any thing else out on the roads during the times I was driving."

     I reached out and tosseled his hair.  "I wish I had your luck.  Man,
every time I make a wrong move some state trooper is right there to see
it."

     I made another pot of coffee while C.Z. settled on the couch and
stretched his left leg out along the seat.  When the coffee was done, I
brought our cups over, handed him his, and settled into the chair opposite
him with mine.

     "How's the hip doing now?"

     "It's pretty sore and stiff.  I'm not going to be running for a few
days yet.  The bruise is developing nicely, just like you said it would."

     With that he stood up, unbuttoned his jeans, pulled them halfway down
his legs and turned his hip toward me.  He wasn't wearing any underwear so
I was able to see the spreading bruise that went from the point of his hip
bone down to the top of his thigh and almost all the way around to his ass
cheek.  I was also treated to another look at his marvelous cock and balls.
     My mouth went dry, and my cock began to go rigid.  As if in a dream, I
watched as my arm stretched out and my fingers lightly touched his hip bone
just above the bruise.  My fingers lingered on his hip and then started a
slow movement downward and inward toward the bend of his leg and his
crotch.
     C.Z. didn't move away.  It seemed that he leaned his body toward mine,
and he closed his eyes.  My fingers stopped just at the edge of his pubic
hair and then moved upward again toward his hip.  He leaned even closer and
his cock began to grow longer.

     Larsen chose that exact moment to issue an insistent bark at the door.
Both of us jumped, and the moment was lost.  I drew my hand away, and he
pulled his jeans back up.

     I swallowed hard and got up to open the door for Larsen.  I was
painfully aware of my erection straining against the fabric of my jeans,
and I was sure that my arousal had to have been visible to C.Z.

     Larsen came bounding into the cabin, and after a quick stop to lick my
hand, he headed right over to C.Z. and proceeded to slobber all over him in
that wet retriever way that means "I really like you."

     When Larsen finally had enough and moved away, C.Z. took his empty
coffee cup and limped in to the kitchen.

     "Thanks for driving me around the route, and thanks for the coffee.
I've got to get back home to get ready for church."

     "Wait.  Let me give you your shorts and shirt from yesterday."  I
followed him into the kitchen and retrieved the cleaned, dried, and folded
garments from the top of the clothes drier.

     "Thanks."  He took the clothes and headed toward the door.  "I'll get
your sweats and tee shirt back to you later.  I usually do the laundry
after church."

     He stopped at the door and turned back toward me.  "Would you like to
come to church with mom and me?  I'd like to have you meet my mom."

     I hadn't been in a church since my grandmother's funeral, but it only
took me about ten nano seconds to accept C.Z.'s offer.  I wasn't that
interested in church or in meeting his mother.  I just wanted to spend more
time with him, and going to church looked like the way to do it.

                       **********

     C.Z.'s house was easy to find.  Once he'd described it, I realized I'd
seen it everyday on my way into and out of town.  Just outside the
Carterville city limits, it was an early twentieth century farmhouse set
away from the road and bordered on three sides by the fields of Christmas
trees that provided most of the Johnstones' yearly income.
     I pulled into their driveway and climbed out of the truck.  C.Z.  and
his mother emerged from the house at the same time.  It was easy to see why
C.Z. was so good looking.  His mother was still a beautiful woman, but it
was clear that she was unhealthy.  She shuffled slowly toward the car
leaning heavily on C.Z.'s arm.

     I met them at the car, and C.Z. introduced me.  "Mom, this is Andy
Hatcher."

     She extended her hand.  "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Hatcher.  I'm
Emily Johnstone.  Thank you for being so kind to C.Z."  Her eyes were
almost exact copies of C.Z.'s, or should I say that his were copies of
hers.  They seemed to look deep inside me.

     "It was the least I could do Ms. Johnstone.  It WAS my dog that caused
the accident in the first place, and I've enjoyed getting to know C.Z."

     She smiled at me as C.Z. helped her into the front seat of their rusty
Subaru.  I folded into the cramped back seat as C.Z. maneuvered into the
driver's seat.  He started the car, and we set off for the First
Presbyterian Church of Carterville.

     Despite, or perhaps because of, my long absence from a church, I
enjoyed the service.  The hymns were sung enthusiastically.  The choir was
good for a small church, and the sermon was thought-provoking.  The
minister, a handsome and trim forty-something man with a rich baritone
voice, had chosen to speak on love and acceptance.  One phrase spoke to me
in particular..."We have to know and accept ourselves with all of our
faults and sins before we can truly accept, forgive, and love others."  I
realized that I was just beginning to know myself.  I was going to have to
work on the acceptance part.

     After the service Nancy Jones, my secretary at the bank, came up to
greet me and introduced me to her husband and children.  When I managed to
get away from Nancy and her family, C.Z. and his mother were waiting in the
narthex.  I joined them.

     "We always wait for the crowd to clear out.  Mom has a hard time in
the crowds."

     When the path was clear, we started our slow shuffle to the door and
the parking lot beyond.  The last obstacle in our way was the minister
himself who greeted C.Z. and his mother with open arms and hugs.  They
introduced him as Rev. Baker.  His handshake was warm and firm.  I told him
that I'd enjoyed the service and his sermon.  He, of course, invited me to
come back next Sunday.

     When we got back to the Johnstone's it was obvious that Emily was
tired.  She was even slower moving from the car to the house than she had
been before, and it was an effort for her to get up the three steps to the
porch even with both C.Z.'s and my help.

     "C.Z., I need to go lie down for a while."  She turned to me.  "Mr.
Hatcher, thank you for coming to church with us.  You're more than welcome
any time.  I hate to ask this, but would it be possible for you to help
C.Z. with the paper route again tomorrow morning.  He's trying not to show
it, but I know it still hurts him to shift that old car."

     "Ms. Johnstone, I'd be happy to do it."  C.Z. looked embarrassed that
his mother had asked me to help.  "Your mother's right, C.Z.  You need at
least another day or so before you will be able to work the clutch easily.
What time should I pick you up tomorrow morning?"

     He smiled.  "Okay.  Be here at 4:30.  I have to be done with the route
before 7:00 so I can drive the school bus.  Can you handle that?"

     I smiled back.  "Yeah, I'll just be asleep at my desk by noon
tomorrow!"

                       **********

     Larsen was glad to see me when I got back home.  That really wasn't
anything special.  He was always glad to see me, even if I'd just been gone
for a few minutes.  I changed out of my suit and tie into running clothes,
and Larsen and I started out on our jog.  We normally did our jog in the
morning, but since I'd helped C.Z. with his paper route the last two days,
we hadn't been out yet.
     The weather was warm again.  The exercise felt good, and I soon
screened out all outside stimuli and concentrated on running.  Larsen did
his usual combination jog and rabbit hunt.
     Back at the cabin, I had a light lunch and then hit the computer
again.  I checked out new postings on the Nifty Archive and searched for
more gay oriented sites.
     At dusk I heated up a TV dinner and went back to the computer for a
while before going to bed.  Reflecting on Rev. Baker's sermon, I realized
that I was finally coming to know and accept myself.  If I was gay, then I
was gay.  I had to accept that.  What else would explain my attraction to
C.Z.?

                       **********

     The next morning I was at C.Z.'s at 4:30 on the dot.  He opened the
door as soon as I pulled into the driveway so he must have been waiting for
me.  Larsen was as glad to see him as I was.
     We picked up the papers at the old bus terminal in town and started on
the route.  Again we talked as I drove and C.Z. stuffed papers into the
receptacles.  I leaned my body toward the middle of the seat, and
C.Z. leaned in toward me.  Our shoulders touched and neither of us drew
away.  Except for the times he was stuffing the papers in the delivery
tubes, we rode most of the route with our shoulders and upper arms in
contact with one another.  My cock was erect and pressing against the
confines of my jeans most of the way.
     We finished the route about 6:15, and I delivered him back at his
house.  We shook hands again, and then he started getting out of the truck.

     "Do you want help again tomorrow?"

     "I really enjoyed the company, Andy, but I don't want to cause you any
trouble.  You've been real nice to do this three days in a row.  I think my
hip will be well enough to work the clutch by tomorrow."

     "How are you going to handle the school bus today?"

     "Easy," he smiled.  "It's an automatic transmission.  No clutch."  He
closed the door of the truck.  "Thanks again."

     "Call me."

     "I will."

     He disappeared into his house leaving me with nothing to do but back
out of his driveway and head to my place.

     I took out some of my emotional frustrations on the morning jog with
Larsen.  I dealt with some other frustrations by taking a slow jack off
session in the shower before eating breakfast and getting ready to start
another work week.

(To be continued)