by Tim Mead
Chapter 1
He was filthy. He'd spent the day digging holes and then planting balled
and burlapped shrubs in them. Next he added fertilizer to the holes,
filled them, and put mulch around the plants, working all day in a late spring
drizzle. The only good thing about it all was that, even working alone,
he'd finished the job. Well, that and it had looked good when he'd
finished. The boss wouldn't be getting any complaints about this project!
He pulled his company truck into the Cromer Landscaping parking lot and went
inside to the restroom, where he washed his hands and arms. Then he
grabbed a paper towel and cleaned his glasses. They'd gotten dirty as he
worked and then wet again as he walked from the truck into the building. Able
to see clearly once more, he went back to the office to clock out.
"Hill!" Ed Johnson, his supervisor, sat behind
the desk.
"Yeah?"
"Dave wants you to come by his office first thing in the morning."
Oh, Jesus! What had he done? "Have I fucked up or somethin'?"
A ghost of a smile crossed Ed's face. But he was expressionless as he
said, "Not that I know of. He said to dress in a regular work outfit, so
I suppose you'll be coming back here afterward."
"Okay. If he hasn't torn a strip off me, I'll see you tomorrow morning, I
guess."
"Right." Ed turned his attention to his
computer.
Joe drove his beat-up old truck to his second-floor apartment, the one he
rented from Mrs. Brill downstairs, the one the boss's boyfriend used to live
in. Joe had been renting a single room up until that time, but when he
heard at work that Cox had moved out, he high-tailed it over there to see if it
was still available. She gave him the same deal she had given Brody:
the rent was low, but he had to take out the trash, keep the grass cut,
keep the sidewalks shoveled in the winter, and take care of any minor repairs
that needed to be done around the place. He was more than willing to do
it. And he had to admit that she'd been understanding
the couple of times he was late paying his rent.
He threw his keys on the countertop and, stripping off his dirty clothes,
headed for the bathroom.
After a long, hot shower, he put on clean clothes and then had to decide what
to do about supper. He didn't feel like going back out in the rain so
soon. And he didn't particularly want to order in pizza. That was
expensive. Too hungry to fix anything that took a lot of time, he opened
a can of "chunky" beef soup, poured salad out of a bag, and finished with a
bowl of ice cream in his recliner in front of his little TV.
But he wasn't paying any attention to the program. Although he knew he'd
always done a good job for Dave Cromer, he worried. He'd never been
called into the big boss's office before. He could only think Dave was
going to yell at him.
The story of his life. Never
quite good enough.
His dad had left when Joe was seven. Although his mom assured him it
wasn't so, he'd always thought maybe the old man took off because he didn't
want to stay around and raise a kid. Or maybe there was something
particular about him that made his father leave. He'd always wondered
about that and couldn't help feeling it might have been his fault. He'd
tried extra hard after that to be good, to make his mother happy. She
worked as a secretary in a lawyer's office, so he was a latchkey kid. He
tried to clean up the house before she came home. When he got older, he'd
start supper so it would be ready when she got there. She always seemed
to appreciate that. She told him she was proud of him, didn't know what
she'd do without her little soldier.
By the time he was in tenth grade he was six feet tall and sporting broad
shoulders. The football coach wanted him to go out for the team, but he
refused, saying his mother needed him. Somehow she heard about that and
seemed hurt that he'd use her for an excuse. She wanted him to make the
most of his high school experience.
He never went out for football, but in the spring he tried out for and made the
baseball team. He was the centerfielder at Bryant High School for three
years, and he had the second best batting average on the team his senior year.
He'd made decent grades, but he'd had to work for them. Neither his
academic record nor his athletic ability was good enough to get him a scholarship
to any college or university. Yet he and his mother weren't quite poor
enough for a need-based scholarship.
He'd started at
After that came a couple of jobs that didn't pay a living wage. He'd
flipped burgers for a while and been a stock boy at a supermarket. But
then he'd gotten a job on one of the crews at Cromer Landscaping there in
Colby. It didn't pay all that well, but at least now he wasn't depending
on his mom to help out. Well, she'd helped him with the deposit on his
apartment and with the down payment on the truck. Since then, though,
he'd managed on his own. He went back to Bryant every other weekend to
see that she was doing okay, to fix anything around the house that needed
doing.
And here he was, four years out of high school in a going-nowhere job.
He'd learned to do just about everything in the landscaping business,
though. After the guys on the lawnmowing crews had gone back to school in
the fall, Dave kept him on. Sometimes there wasn't much to do, but Dave
didn't seem to mind, so long as he was available. In the fall there were
leaves to rake, and mulch and fertilizer to spread so the lawns would get a
head start in the spring, and there was fall planting, too. In winter
there was often a lot of snow plowing, which, though it was cold and miserable,
was a job he was grateful to have.
There were a lot of guys at work in the summer, and although he got along with
them, he hadn't made any close friends. That was pretty much his
own fault, but it was true, no matter what the reason. They were
all wrapped up in their own lives, and he wasn't one to push his way in where
he wasn't wanted.
`Fuck,' he said to himself, coming out of his reverie. `Instead of just
sitting here, maybe I'll go to Gridley's and have a beer. At least I can
look at people instead of going to sleep in front of the TV.'
He walked since Gridley's wasn't all that far away and the rain had stopped.
That way he saved a little gas.
He'd been sitting in a booth for about twenty minutes, nursing his beer,
watching some talking heads that seemed to be going on about the young baseball
season. He didn't understand why in bars they had the TV on but kept the
sound turned down.
The crowd was light when he came in, but it was growing now. He
recognized a lot of the regulars. Not that he knew anyone's name.
But the faces were familiar.
He was looking into his mug of beer, wondering once more what Dave Cromer
wanted with him, when he realized someone was right beside him. He looked
up.
There stood a good-looking guy with straight black hair and dark brown eyes.
He had on faded jeans and a blue windbreaker with a black tee shirt under
it. It was a guy he had seen once in a while at Gridley's, but they'd
never spoken.
"Hey," the guy said. "I've seen you here before. I'm Roger Norton.
Mind if I join you?"
`Am I coming apart,' Joe thought. But that was a lame old quip and he
didn't say it. He wondered why this guy wanted to sit with him. But
he remembered he was brought up to be polite, so he said, "Sure, have a seat."
After Roger sat down, he stuck his hand across the table and said, "I'm
Joe. Joe Hill." He'd always thought that name sounded as anonymous
as John Doe, a name for an unknown person or a nobody.
Roger grinned, and suddenly Joe felt warm inside. Whatever Roger wanted,
it was nice to have him there.
"Glad to meet you, Joe Hill."
"Um, yeah, nice to meet you, too, Roger." That sounded dorky, but
Joe had never been good with words. He was uncomfortable. This guy
was a university student. Joe had seen him wearing a CSU sweatshirt once
or twice. No way would he be interested in knowing someone like him.
"So, Joe, what do you do?"
"I work for Cromer Landscaping."
Roger's face lit up. "Oh, then you probably know Brody Cox."
"Yeah. I know him." He wasn't going to say more than that because
it was no one's business that Cox was the boss's live-in boyfriend. He
thought a change of subject might be a good idea.
"So, Roger, I'm guessing you go to
"Yep. But not for much longer. I'm
graduating."
"What's your major?"
"Theater."
`Oh, great,' Joe thought. `Like that will give us a lot to talk
about.'
"You're interested in acting?"
"Well, some, yeah. But I'm primarily into the tech
stuff, scenery, costumes, and especially lighting."
"What you gonna do after you graduate?"
"I'm going to grad school in
"Sounds cool, I guess. And after that?"
"If I'm lucky I'll get a job with a theater company like the Cleveland
Playhouse or something of the sort. If not, I may wind up teaching drama
in a high school somewhere."
"Well, good luck. Sounds like you've got the world by the ass!"
"Yeah, I can't complain. It'll be nice to get away from here for a
while."
"Why?"
He hesitated for a moment and then said, "Oh, I live with my mom. And
she's great! But, well, I imagine you know. A guy doesn't want to
live with his mother forever."
"Word."
"You live with your mother?"
"No, but she's in Bryant, and I go see her pretty often."
"That sounds okay."
"Yeah." He finished his beer. "Let me get
us another round."
When he got back to the booth, Joe handed Roger his beer and asked, "How do you
happen to know Brody Cox?"
Smiling his "thanks," Roger took a swallow. Joe couldn't help noticing the
moustache the foam left behind. Abruptly he realized that Roger hadn't answered
his question. He forced himself to raise his eyes, meeting Roger's.
Roger stared Joe in the eye for what seemed like a long time. "I've known
Brody since before he and Dave hooked up. There was a time when I thought he
and I might . . . ." He left the sentence unfinished.
"You're gay?"
Roger grinned. "Guys that fuck other guys usually are." Then he
looked directly into Joe's eyes again. "Is that a problem?"
"Uh, no, not really."
"Now that you know, I can tell you my boyfriend and I have just split
up."
Joe wasn't quite sure what to say. He didn't have any experience talking
about that kind of thing.
"Sorry. Is your boyfriend, uh, your ex, the black guy I've seen in here
with you?"
"Yep."
"What happened?"
"Oh, we're still on good terms. It was great while it lasted, but we knew
better than to get too serious. Marcus is going to
"Is he in theater, too?"
"Nope. He's a singer. Not all that big a guy, but a bass voice like
you wouldn't believe!"
They chatted about this and that for a while. Joe turned the tables on
Roger and began asking questions about his life. He was surprised at how
comfortably they were able to chat. He found out that Roger had worked in
the men's suit department at Dillard's at the Colby Mall. Their paths had
never crossed there because Joe didn't own a suit and didn't buy his clothes at
Dillard's. Couldn't afford to. He was
tempted to ask Roger about his unfinished sentence about Brody Cox, but he
decided against it. It was none of his business if Roger didn't want to
talk about that.
There was a lull in the conversation, which Roger ended by asking, "Anyone ever
tell you you look like Clark
"Huh?"
"I don't mean the guy on Smallville. I mean the real Clark
"Thanks, I think. That's better than what some of the guys in high school
called me."
"Do you mind telling me?" Roger seemed genuinely concerned.
"Li'l Abner."
"Oh, that sucks! I mean the hair, eyes, and body
are similar. But you're not as slow as Li'l Abner!"
Joe grinned. "Some thought I was. But thanks for the vote of
confidence."
"So, do you have a guy in your life?"
Joe's eyebrows shot up and he leaned back from the table.
"You think I'm gay?"
"Come on, dude! Are you seriously telling me you're not?"
Joe waited just a beat too long to answer.
"You are!"
"Do I look gay? Do I act gay?"
"Most people would never guess, probably. But I've been watching you in
here for months. And I know you're gay!"
"But I'm always alone! I just sit here and have a beer or two and go
home."
"It's the vibes, my friend. It's called gaydar." Again, the
infectious grin, dark eyes snapping. "Besides, I've also noticed who and
what you stare at."
Joe was surprised. He didn't think he'd been that obvious. "I've
read about gaydar, but I've always thought it was a crock."
"Trust me. And you haven't told me I'm wrong."
`Well,' Joe thought, `if this guy has a big mouth, I'm outed here in Colby.'
As a kid growing up in Bryant, he'd had a best friend, Vince. They'd been
inseparable from second grade on. When they hit puberty, they did the
sort of fumbling around boys did at that age. Then one day Vince had said
they couldn't jerk off together anymore. His priest said it was a sin to
do it at all, and that it was an even bigger sin to do it with another boy.
Besides, Vince said, he was interested in girls now.
Joe had been crushed, forced to get what satisfaction he could from his hand.
And then the summer he was fourteen, Cousin Billy came to stay for three weeks.
Their grandmother in
Joe was thrilled. Billy had always seemed a bit aloof, but then he was
three years older. To the younger Joe he was the epitome of cool.
His mother left, after embarrassing him by kissing him and admonishing him to
behave and not give Billy a hard time.
At first Billy had seemed pissed to have to be there looking after a kid who
was only going to be a freshman when school started. He insisted that Joe
call him Bill, not Billy. But then things thawed in a hurry.
One evening a day or so after their mothers had left,
the boys were watching something on television. Joe was stealing glances
at Bill. His cousin may have been older, but he wasn't much bigger.
Joe had recently had a growth spurt and was now 5'9" tall, only about an
inch shorter than his cousin. Bill favored his father's side of the
family, with light brown hair, brown eyes, and a slight build. Joe
thought he looked great.
"Hey, kid!" Bill said, turning to look at Joe.
"I'm not a kid! I'm fourteen! And my name, as you fuckin' well
know, is Joe." His mother, Bill's parents, and many of his own friends called
him Joey. But he was trying to establish that he wasn't a kid.
Bill grinned. "Okay, Joe. How'd you like
to watch a DVD?"
"What is it?" Anything would have been better than the program
they were watching.
"Hang a sec." Bill jumped up, went upstairs, and returned with a disc,
which he put in the player. Then he sat down beside Joey, grabbed the
remote and pressed the Play button. He fast-forwarded through the opening
stuff, and suddenly there on the screen were a naked man and woman. He
was sucking on one of her breasts!
"Holy shit! That's porn! Does Aunt Sue
know you've got that?"
"No, and she'd better not find out, either." He glared at Joe, who
grinned and made a motion as if zipping his lips.
Joe had an instant hard on, but he found he was more fascinated with the man
than with the woman. He'd never seen anyone naked except Vince, and he
couldn't take his eyes off the man's big dick and, when he turned around, his
muscular ass.
Both boys sat there, eyes glued to the screen. Furtive glances at his
cousin showed Joey that his cousin was also throwing wood.
"Wow!" Joe said when the woman put the guy's cock in her mouth. He'd
heard of blowjobs, and of course guys at school called other guys cocksuckers
sometimes, but he'd never actually seen anyone do it.
"What?" Bill asked, eyebrows raised. "Haven't
you ever had your cock sucked?"
"Um, no."
"I suppose that means you've never sucked a cock, either."
"Yes. Er, no."
Bill laughed. "You don't have a buddy that you get off with?"
"Well, not that. Not anymore. I mean . . . oh fuck!"
"You want to translate that into English for me, kid?"
He sighed. "I told you, I'm not a kid! I have a friend and he and I used to, well, you know . . ."
"I'm guessing here, but you mean you and your buddy beat off?"
Joe blushed. He'd never talked with anybody about that kind of thing
except Vince.
"Yeah."
"Used to? What happened?"
"He said it was a sin and he was going to try to find a girl to mess around
with."
Billy laughed. "Man, he doesn't know what he's missing."
"What do you mean?"
"I could show you." He gave Joe an appraising look. "Take off your
clothes."
Suddenly Joey wanted very much to see Bill without anything on. His cock
got even harder.
"But what if someone sees us?"
"Dude, look around. There's nobody here but us, and there won't be for
three weeks." He pulled off his tee shirt, stood up, and dropped his
baggy shorts. His boxers were showing a nice tent. "Now, your turn."
Excited and scared, Joe took off his tank top and dropped his own shorts.
"Man, you gotta get rid of the tighty whities. Only little boys wear
those things! They'll strangle your stuff. Now, drop `em."
In the next moment, two aroused teens stood there looking at each other.
Joe remembered his relief when he saw that his dick was as big as his
cousin's. And then his concern when he wondered what
was going to happen next. Did Billy expect him to suck on his
cock, which was pointing at the ceiling?
Bill heaved a sigh. "You've really never done this, huh?"
"N, no."
"Well, I don't want you practicing on me `till you at least know what
it's supposed to feel like. Sit down and spread your legs."
His cock throbbing now and harder than it had ever been, he did as he was told.
A moment later he was chanting "Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod! I never
thought anything would feel like that!"
Bill pulled off long enough to say, "Try to pay attention, kid. You're
gonna have to do this to me, you know."
Joe didn't even bother insisting he wasn't a kid. He was too swept away
by the feelings spreading from his cock throughout his body.
Over the next three weeks, Bill introduced Joey to all the pleasures.
The younger boy learned about getting his nipples sucked and played with,
and of course he was taught to reciprocate.
One day after they'd come back from the community swimming pool, Bill had
insisted they shower together. Joe was puzzled when Bill paid particular
attention to soaping his butt crack and even stuck a soapy finger in his hole,
but it felt so good he didn't complain. Later, he thought he'd died and
gone to heaven for sure when Bill introduced him to rimming.
By the time he'd graduated to fucking and being fucked, he'd accepted that he
was gay and that he craved sex with Bill, all the sex he could get. And
then their mothers returned from
For the rest of that summer, he missed Bill, but he stayed busy. He had
to take care of keeping the grass cut and he also did lawns for some of the
neighbors. Evenings he was often involved in pick-up softball or baseball
games at a nearby park. And he came home to beat off thinking about the guys
he'd just been with.
But he learned quickly that a fag was something you didn't want to be, so he
kept his newfound skills and desires to himself.
When school started, he'd grown some more, and with size in 9th grade comes
respect. The baseball, too, helped him be accepted. He wasn't the
most popular guy in school, but he never had any trouble getting dates.
His size and looks made sure that he could always find a willing girl,
and back then he only wore his glasses at home to read. He'd learned that
it just wouldn't do to be thought of as queer, so if keeping a straight image
meant being one of the jocks and screwing girls, then he would. He loved
the baseball and even got so he enjoyed the sex sometimes. But it was
never anything like what he'd experienced with Bill.
The two of them got together at family holiday gatherings and managed to have
quick, furtive sex on a couple of those occasions, but Bill graduated from high
school the spring after he'd spent that time with Joey, and he went off to
university and then law school in the East. As Joe often thought
enviously, Bill had the brains and his dad had the money. All he had was
looks, or so people told him, but that didn't get you anywhere.
When he'd wound up in Higgins, he'd told himself he didn't need to use women
for his reputation any more, and it wasn't, he realized, fair to them. So
he'd just been something of a loner, doing his job, occasionally bowling with
some of the guys, visiting his mother regularly. Not much of a life, but
nobody hated him or made fun of him. Besides, he'd be fooling himself to
think he had anything to offer. No brains. No talent. Just a body that all the girls wanted.
"Earth to Joe!"
"Huh?"
Roger was waving his hand back and forth in front of Joe's face.
"You zoned out on me, man. Where'd you go?"
Joe gave Roger a rueful grin. "Sorry, Rog.
I was just remembering something."
"Wanna tell me about it?"
"Not really."
Roger leaned forward, folding his arms and putting them on the table. "So
you don't have a regular boyfriend. How long's it been since you got
laid?"
Joe blushed.
"That long, huh?" Roger's smile was really nice. He seemed
friendly, sympathetic . . . and very sexy.
"Man, don't ask."
"I was just thinking, Joe. I mean, I know we've just met, but would you
like to go someplace and make out?"
"Fuck, dude. You don't beat around the bush, do you?"
"I guess I've never been the shy type. Does that turn you off?"
Did it? After years of avoiding relationships, for some reason he wasn't
repulsed by Roger's suggestion. This wasn't about a relationship, and the idea
of a quick fuck with the hot guy across the table started a swelling in his
jeans. "Not really."
"Then let's do it!" He paused. "But there's a problem. I live
with my mom. She knows I'm gay, but I can't bring guys back to the
house."
Joe realized this was all moving pretty fast. He'd literally not had sex
with a guy since the last time he'd done it with his cousin, and that had been
years ago. But, dammit, he wanted. Needed.
What was he saving it for?
"I've got an apartment near here. It may be a little messy, but we can
change the sheets and there's clean towels, and . . ."
Realizing how eager he sounded, he shut up.
Roger slid out of the booth and stood up. "Maybe we'll use those sheets
and then you can change `em. Let's roll!"
Once outside, Joe said, "My apartment isn't far from here. I walked."
"No prob. I've got my car. We'll take it and I can drive home from
your place."
With Joe providing directions, they were there in five minutes. When they
pulled up out front, Roger said, "You live here?"
"Yeah."
Roger didn't say any more until they were inside. "This is freaky!"
"What?"
"I've been here before. This is where Brody Cox used to live!"
"Yeah, didn't I tell you that? Is it a problem?"
Roger put his arms around Joe and licked his ear. "No, stud, you didn't.
But it's not a problem."
Unsure what to do next, Joe put his arms around Roger and sighed. They
were about to have what`s called casual sex, and that, after his long period of
celibacy, had him trembling.
"Come on, Clark
Roger's joke helped calm Joe down a tad. "Wait a minute!" he said,
chuckling. "This is my place. Shouldn't I be leading you?"
"Whatever! Just get in there and let me undress you!"
Roger insisted that, in view of how long it had been since Joe had been fucked,
Joe should do the topping. Instead of telling Roger about the dildos he'd
bought at that place out on the road to
After their first fuck, during which he made sure that Roger got off too, Joe wasn't sure what would happen next. Roger
liked to cuddle, so they lay together, arms around each other for a while.
Then Joe asked, "Um, Rog, think you're ready for a second round?"
"Think you can do me again so soon? You really are Superman!"
"Sure. Look! I'm already up. But this time I was hoping you'd
do me."
"God! A hunk like you asking me to fuck him! Good thing I've got another
rubber. Now, what position do you prefer?"
"Well, I suppose it's kinda mushy, but I'd like to look at you while you . . .
."
Roger reached for the lube and grinned. "You got it! Pull your
knees up."
To Be Continued
Big hugs to Drew, Tinn, and Mickey for all kinds
of editorial advice and encouragement. – Tim
Emails encouraged at t.mead76@yahoo.com. If you email me, please put the
story title in the subject line so I'll know it isn't spam. Thanks.
--Tim