Date: Wed, 24 Dec 2003 14:33:22 -0800 (PST)
From: S C <s_l_cain@yahoo.com>
Subject: Quinton and Jarrod - Chapter 1

This is a complete work of fiction, the characters are purest fantasy.
Contained in this story is love and sex between consenting adults and in
this case between men. If you are so narrow minded that this offends you,
then go away. If you live in some backwards city/state/province/country
where it is illegal for you to read this, then you should be here anyway,
so go away. This work is owned and copyrighted by the author, it may not
be copied in whole or in part without the express permission from the
author.

All of that aside, I hope you enjoy this story. It is a first attempt and
if I get some feedback I will continue my efforts and further develop the
story. You can email me at S_L_Cain@yahoo.com

**********

Quinton and Jarrod

By SL Cain

Chapter 1

"It won't be an issue once the entire system is upgraded to the new
software." I tried explaining to the local office manager, for the 5th
time. He started in on me at 8 this morning with questions of how long
would it take, how many people would be locked out of the system during
the installation, how this, who that. "I will write a script that will
convert over any miscellaneous details that we find the new software
doesn't pick up automatically. It will all take no more than a couple of
days."

These guys are always in a panic. It's understandable; I am virtually
tearing apart their entire communications between themselves and their
customers. If they weren't nervous about that than the company should be
worried about the employee. But this IS what I do for a living after all;
if they could just chill out and let me work I could do this in half the
time.

Am I doing what I want to be? I am 38 years old, divorced from an
adulterous wife, a 16 year old boy in deep denial about his dad, and
living in a shoebox of an apartment. Yeah, I could afford better, but
like it or not, that boy isn't going to get a scholarship to college
with his grades, so it's going to be up to me to get him in to one.

I've been divorced from Charlotte for 5 years now. I new it was coming
to an end, the struggle with my own sexuality was going to be the cause,
or so I thought. It was a complete surprise to me when I found out that
she was having an affair. Keeping my hands off of all the studs at the
gym because I wanted to make my marriage work and the entire time she was
sleeping with one of her coworkers. Who would have thought? I knew the
divorce was hard on Jamie. What 11 year old boy wants his parents to
divorce and move to opposite sides of town from each other. At least it
made visitations and sharing weekends a lot easier. Well, as easy as
could be imagined anyway.

Having a lot of idle time on my hands after the divorce and moving into
my own apartment, I ended up spending a lot more time at the gym. It has
really paid off. Standing at 5'11" and 200 pounds, broad shoulders, 18
inch biceps, nice 6 pack (still working on the 8 pack but I love my pasta
too much), 31 inch waist, and killer legs. Mountain biking has really
helped to develop my legs, more than I would have thought. Everything was
coated with fuzzy blonde hair just a shade lighter than the hair on my
head. I kept my hair just a tad longer than short so that it had just a
bit of a wave to it. Add to the entire package blue-grey eyes and a 1,000
watt smile and I was quite the package. Well, in my high esteem of myself
anyway. :chuckle:

I have only been with 3 men in the past 5 years. Ted, the third guy, I
thought was a keeper. The man was heaven on Earth. We spent 8 months
together, talked about getting a place together, and even went on a week
long vacation to a bed& breakfast up in New Hampshire. What I didn't
realize at the time was the fact that he was dating 2 other guys at the
same time as me and all three of us were suckers enough to think that Ted
was "the one". Oh well, live and learn. But that ended over a year ago,
time to...

"Damn!"

"What? What's going on? "What `damn'?" Len the office manager
picked up on it immediately.

"Calm down Len, it's nothing. I just wasn't expecting that your entire
customer database was housed within this same program." Did people never
think about multi-tasking two programs together for better flexibility
and less chance of data loss? "I will just have to script this into the
new program as well. Guess we can add another day onto my original
estimate." Ugggghhhh, why didn't the damn rep tell me about this? I
could have come better prepared for this installation. And exactly why
isn't that very same sales rep here right now during the installation?
He should be the one calming Len down and keeping him out of my hair and
telling him what a fucking genius I am.

Glancing down at my watch I was a bit shocked to see it was 3 o'clock, I
gotta get some fuel in me. "Hey Len, where can I grab a quick healthy
bite. Man I am starving here."

"Just around the corner is a vegetarian cafe, the girls go there all the
time. Not sure if the food is any good though, I think they just go there
to look at the guy behind the counter." Len informs me.

Now that has possibilities! I am not a vegetarian, but for the chance at
ogling a hot guy for a half hour I am sure I can find something on the
menu to satisfy my dietary needs. Heading around the corner I find the
place Len spoke of. It's called the Carrot Cafe. Hmm, not sure that is
very original or clever, but as long as I can get a decent bite who cares
what they call it. On the way into the cafe I grab one of the local
weekly publications and then head to the counter to order a sandwich. The
guy behind the counter simply cannot be what the office ladies come here
to see, the poor kid was severely overweight and pimply. This was
nobody's wet dream. I did order a tofu burger with avocado which turned
out to be really excellent.

I sat at a table nursing my iced tea and flipping through the paper I had
picked up while waiting for the kid to deliver the burger. Local news
about an art car parade from a few weeks ago, typical slander against
mainstream movies, advertisements on every other page for tattoo and body
piercing parlors, and then to the good part, the `adult section' of all
weekly publications. Quickly skipping through the ads for phone dating
services and M/F personals, I get to the good stuff. Gay men's personals
have changed a lot just over the past few years. Instead of finding
something like "30yo GWM, in shape, great job, seeks same for loving and
intimate LTR." You now found ads for guys looking to beat or pee on you.
Nasty! I flip past those ads and my eyes land on the advertisement for a
massage therapist. I swear he is looking right up at me from the black
and white pages of the paper. He is gorgeous, dark hair and eyes, killer
body shown shirtless and in just a pair of jeans. "Man Handler Massage,
specializing in soothing away the frustrations of work day." The ad was
worded just for me, I swear. His phone number was listed and I was glad
to see it was a cell phone number and not a pager number. I hated calling
those pagers and never knowing if somebody was ever going to return the
page. At least with a cell number you have the chance of hearing the
persons voice from their personal greeting and being able to leave them a
message. Hopefully of course they just pick up and you can speak to them
directly. I decided after I ate that I would give "Quinton", as his ad
said, a call and see if I could get something set up for this evening.

About halfway through my burger I get a call on the cell phone. "Jarrod
here," I answer.

"Get back here quick," Len says, panic screaming from every word he
says.

:groan: "What has he done now?" I ask myself as I jump up from the cafe
table, grab my paper, and head back around the corner to the office. As I
step off of the elevator I see a cluster of people all standing around my
temporary work station. One of them notices me stepping from the elevator
and turns to whisper something back to the group of people, en masse they
turn and head in different directions as I approach a sweating Len with a
panicked look in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" I none to gently ask him.

"Uh... well, I uhm... I just wanted to show everyone the new software.
What it could do and stuff. But I clicked on a couple of the software
buttons and then all this started happening." He said, pointing at the
pc monitor.

Glancing at the monitor I see dozens of grey error windows have popped up
and cascaded down the face of the screen. I grin inwardly at myself and
toy with the idea of sending poor Len into an endless downward spiral of
self induced panic. But then my better judgment grabs hold of me and I
let him off the hook. "It's ok Len; the software isn't migrated into
the office network yet. This is a temp station and isolated from the
network. The errors popped up because the software isn't yet compatible
with your company's database that I copied onto this pc."

"Oh, thank God! I thought I crashed the entire system!" A look of utter
relief settled onto Len's flabby features and he scurried away to his
office with a rather apologetic backwards glance.

Over the course of the next 3 and a half hours I continued to script out
some temporary import options to help the flow from the old database to
what will be the new compatible database. Another glance at my watch
shows me it is 6:45pm and I realize I have sat hunched over at this pc
pounding away on the keyboard non-stop. I slowly stretch my hands above
my head and then lean back over the top of the office chair, trying to
stretch out the muscles in my back from their cramped position. The
abandoned newspaper on my desk catches my eye while I am stretching and I
realize I never got the option of calling that massage god and try to set
up an appointment. "I wonder if it's too late now?" I ask out loud to
myself. I flip open the paper and scan through it to locate his ad again.
My eyes land on that sexy black and white image of him once more,
scanning down that beautiful smooth chest, the pumped up pecs with the
pronounced nipples, the washboard abs, narrow waist, and then the
seductively tight denim jeans.

Grabbing my cell phone I punch in the phone number listed in the ad and
listen to the phone ring, and ring, and ring, and just when I thought it
would switch over to voice mail I hear a breathy voice say, "Hello, Man
Handler Massage, this is Quinton."

"Yeah, hi Quinton this is Jarrod. I saw your ad in the paper and was
wondering if you had anything available this evening. I'm real sorry for
calling with such short notice but the day kind of got away from me here
at work. I meant to call you over lunch but obviously that didn't
happen."

"Jarrod! Slow down, it's ok. ::chuckle:: I know how those days can be.
And as it happens I can fit you in tonight. What time were you thinking?
It's almost 7 now." Quinton tries to stifle his laughter after
listening to the rambling of the man on the other end of the line, but
notices that this Jarrod guy has a wonderfully deep and masculine voice.

"Well, I am about to wrap things up here at work in the next 5 minutes.
I am downtown right now but if you are available I can just grab a quick
shower at my hotel and then head out to your place."

"That works for me. Let me give you directions from downtown. The place
is pretty easy to find and we will say 8pm for your massage. Sound
good?" Quinton starts running over a quick list of last minute details
he needs to do to prep his home for a client this evening.

"Perfect, sounds great Quinton. And I really appreciate you squeezing me
in at the last minute. See you at 8pm."

Quinton gave Jarrod the directions to his home and then wraps up the
conversation. "Great, see you then Jarrod."

----------

BBBBBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!!!!!

"What the hell!! Oh yeah, the towels." Dang man, get a hold of
yourself, you're letting your mind wander to much lately.

I go get the towels out of the dryer making a mental note to myself to
call Sears to have that repairman come out again and look at the buzzer
on the dryer, the thing is just way to loud. Grabbing up the towels I
head over to the table and start to dress it out. I already have the face
cradle attached to the front so I cover the rest of the table with the
warm towels and spread them out nice and smooth. Wrap up the ankle
bolster in another towel and position it about 16 inches from the foot of
the table.

Glancing around, I make sure everything else is set. The candles are lit,
the music is on. I'll dim the lights after I get him on the table. Fresh
towels set out in the bathroom. Dirty dishes tucked away in the
dishwasher. Yup! I'm all set. Now I just need my client.

Oh, hey, I bet you are wondering what's goin on. Well you may have
figured it out by now. Anyway, I am a massage therapist and I am getting
set up for my next client. It's a new guy, he found my ad in the local
gay rag and called me. Said he was in town on business and just wanted to
unwind a little bit after a hellish day of installing new computer
software for some company. He sounded nice and sincere on the phone and I
didn't have anything else booked the rest of the evening so I told him I
could be set and ready for him by the time he got here. I gave him the
directions and figured I had about 45 minutes to an hour for him to find
his way across town and back into my neighborhood.

I made a mad dash around the place getting ready. Towels in the dryer to
warm up, quick job of straightening the place up, and then a mad dash
through a shave and shower. Thirty five minutes! Made it with time to
spare, so now pick out a pair of shorts and a tank top to wear and I
would be all set.

I pulled out my khaki shorts and my favorite CK black ribbed tank top.
Gotta admit, I might be 35 years old, but I can still fill out a tank top
better than most college kids. Of course, having a personal trainer
renting my garage apartment and giving me training tips sure doesn't
hurt! Run a comb through the hair, little bit of gel and a quick muss.
Perfect. Not bad old man! Well, you might want to know my stats to round
out the picture for you. You already know I am 35 since I just mentioned
it. I have short black hair, brown eyes, which I think are quite boring
but everyone else says that they are like melted chocolate. LOL Whatever!
I am 6'2" and weigh in at 210 pounds, all solid thanks to the strict
work out routine I follow that Clay, my tenant, worked up for me. I might
curse him and his camels when I am pushing myself through the last few
sets but I do love being able to turn a few heads when I am walking back
to the showers. Hehehe, yeah, modest. NOT!!

Glancing out the window I see a blue Chrysler convertible pull in the
drive. Yee-Gad! Who thinks up those god awful colors for rental cars.
Guess it must help keep thieves from stealing the things! The driver's
door pops open and out steps Hugh Jackman!! No! But damn the man is fine!
To hell with Hugh, I'll take this hunk any day of the week.

Taking another quick glance around to make sure all is set I head to the
front door just as he rings the bell. I open the door and just stop. He
is truly a vision. Thank you Santa, Christmas is early this year!!

"Hi! My name is Quinton, you must be Jarrod?" I say once I finish my
thank you letter to jolly St. Nick.

"Yeah, nice to meet you Quinton," Jarrod says, as he extends a hand out
to me in greeting.

I grasp his hand, nice firm grip, long fingers, hmmmm, wonder what else
is long? Stop that! Invite him in stupid!

"Come on in Jarrod. Perfect timing I just got everything set up for your
massage."

"Ah, that's great I really need this. I'm sorry for calling and asking
for something last minute but I gotta tell you it was a heck of a day and
I will never get to sleep tonight if I don't do something to get me
relaxed." Jarrod informs me.

By this time he has followed me into the living room and I continue to
lead him to the first bedroom off the living room hallway.

"Just step in here Jarrod. You can hang your clothes over there on the
clothes tree and then just lay down on the table. If you want to be
draped just slide under that top sheet or you can just lay on top of it
if you don't want the drape. I'll be back in just a couple of
minutes."

I step back out of the room to let him disrobe and go into the bathroom
across the hall to wash my hands and get ready. I can hear small noises
as Jarrod gets undressed and I start to picture it all in my mind. The
silk tie comes off all too quickly and then he unbuttons the cuffs of his
shirt, then starts on the buttons down the front. Gradually the widening
V of the shirt opens to reveal the white cotton t-shirt beneath. He pulls
the shirt tails from his pants and finishes taking the shirt off and
tosses it on the chair in the corner. Next he unbuckles the belt and
slides the zipper down on his pants, kicking his shoes off and under the
chair that he just tossed his shirt on. Letting his pants slide down his
legs I can just imagine his brief clad butt up in the air as he bends
over to pick up his pants. Yeah, briefs, he has to be a brief man, please
let him be a briefs man. Next off is the t-shirt, and as he crosses his
arms over his belly and grabs the ends to pull it up and over his head,
his biceps flex, straining the short sleeves of the T. As he lifts it up
the magnificently rippled abs, lightly dusted with dark blonde hair is
revealed. Higher and higher the t-shirt rises and then those awe
inspiring pecs come into view. Each are crowned with a dark nipple the
size of a quarter and the nib is already erect as the friction from the
t-shirt rubbing across them excites them. The briefs come off with almost
a careless abandon and gets tossed along with the t-shirt onto the chair
to join his shirt.

Yeah, this man is fantasy material if ever there was one.

"Jarrod, you set?" I knock on the door to get his attention and then
wait to hear a muffled "yeah" in reply.

Stepping back into the room with Jarrod I note that he isn't a shy man,
no drape! He is laying on top of the sheet. Yes! And what a view! Those
perfect glutes with a dusting of hair, but so much lighter than that on
his legs. And the legs, powerful, he must hike or mountain bike.

"Any problems I should know about before we start?" I ask him.

Jarrod leans up onto his elbows and looks at me, "Nah, no problems.
Probably my shoulders and upper back are going to be tight from tension,
but that's about it. Oh, go easy with the feet, I am a bit ticklish."

"Well, I think we can get rid of that tension in your shoulders and
back. As far as your feet are concerned, don't worry. Your feet might be
sensitive but getting them massaged will still feel great. Trust me." I
inform the god lying on my table. Watching as he settles back down and
putting his face back onto the face cradle.

`Oh yeah, I am going to enjoy this.' I think to myself.

**********


So, what do you think of chapter one? Have I left you wanting more? If
so, please send me some feedback at S_L_Cain@yahoo.com

and be sure to put Q&J in the subject line so it doesn't get deleted by
mistake. Thanks SLC