Justin's Rock

by Tim Mead

Chapter 7

Justin was still steaming.  Claiming the whole thing was Todd's fault, he refused to talk with his work mate.  He was humiliated to have been caught by the farmer, humiliated to have been chided by Dave Cromer.

Todd remained cheerful, acting as if nothing were wrong.  At least he did for several days.

Finally, on Friday of the week after Dave had confronted them, they were driving home.

"What are we gonna do this weekend, Quinn?"

"I don't know what you're gonna do, but whatever I do won't involve you."

"Oh, shit, dude!  Are you still pissed about all that?  No harm's been done.  We had a fuck in the fresh air.  I admit that big guy with the pistol scared the crap out of me, but all he did was tell Dave about us.  Dave very mildly chewed us out, and it's all over."

"Like you know whether it's over or not."


"Just fuckin' never mind!  Besides, it's all your fault."

"My fault?  Man, we're the same size.  You don't seriously think I was gonna beat on you `till you fucked me, do you?  How stupid is that!"

Justin huffed but didn't say anything.

"So we're not gonna fuck around this weekend?" Todd asked, grinning.

"No, man.  We're not gonna do anything together this weekend."

Justin spent a miserable Friday night.  He tried watching a Tigers game on television but couldn't concentrate, even though the Tigers had a better team than usual.  He went to his computer and wrote an email to Gary, but when he reread it he deleted it because it was so whiny.  He checked Nifty, but found nothing new there, and his other favorite story sites didn't usually post until the weekend.  He tried playing with the PS-2, but that wasn't much fun without someone to compete with.

Finally, in desperation he went downstairs to find his mother.  She had just come out of her office.

"Hey, baby, why aren't you and Todd together tonight?"

"Oh, I'm getting a little tired of Nielsen."

"That's pretty sudden, isn't it?  What happened?"

"Dunno.  He's pretty shallow, actually.  I mean, he's smart and all, but . . ."

"Well, why don't we make some cocoa?"

"Mom, it's the middle of the summer!"

"It's air conditioned in here.  And cocoa is comfort food."

"Ya know, that does sound kind of nice."

So he spent 45 minutes just chatting with his mother.  As he got older, he was surprised at how smart she was.

The next morning he slept until almost 10:00.  He'd heard the phone ring a couple of times, but he knew his mother would get it.  Besides, who would be calling him?  Why should he get up?  There was abso-fuckin-lutely nothing to do.

Of course he woke up with morning wood.  After a trip to the bathroom during which he had to wait for his hardon to subside a bit so he could pee, he got back into bed and began to stroke himself.  He'd spent so much time having sex with Todd that images of Todd automatically sprang to mind as he relieved himself.  But now when Todd's face flashed into his consciousness, he rejected it.  

He let go of his dick, got out of bed, and turned on his pc.  He clicked on My Photos, made his selection, and grabbed his cock as the picture of Brody filled the screen.  Brody with his white Marine dress hat, his dog tags, his shaved pubes, and his erect cock!  

`Oh, God!'  

He began to stroke himself.  He stuck the middle finger of his left hand in his mouth and got it good and sloppy.  Then he stuck it in his hole and began to finger fuck himself as he stroked.  It was getting pretty good when suddenly he stopped.

`Awww, fuck!  

The mood dissipated instantly when he remembered that Dave had promised to give Brody the picture of Justin naked by the truck, his condom-covered cock waving at the camera.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!  Fucking Todd!  Fucking Dave!  What's the Sarge gonna think?'

He got up and went to the shower.  As he stood there, the warm water cascading over him, he thought once more of the picture on the pc screen in the bedroom.  Of Brody naked and hard.  His dick began to fill once more, so he soaped up his hand and began to stroke it.  Soon he was leaning against the tile walls of the shower, pumping, thinking of the man who'd been the subject of most of his sex fantasies for over a year . . . even while he was with Gary, even while he was with Todd.  It was Brody he wanted to hold him, stroke his body, suck his nipples, mutter endearments.  It was Brody he wanted to fuck him.  He could imagine eating out Brody's hot ass, but in his imagination the next step always involved Brody entering him as he wiggled his ass to assist.  Sometimes Justin was lowering himself onto it.  Sometimes he was being taken doggie style.  But in the very best fantasy he was lying on his back, knees pulled up, as a smiling Brody looked lovingly into his eyes while shoving his cock into Justin's eager hole.

When he went downstairs for breakfast, he found a note from his mother saying she'd gone grocery shopping.  She hadn't wanted to wake him up.  He felt guilty, somehow, that he'd not been up and ready to go with her.  It wasn't that Moira couldn't do the shopping, but he felt he owed her that support.  He wanted to push the cart and talk about suppers they'd have the following week.  He realized the burdens his mother was carrying.  Her practice was growing, and with that came more work, more worry.  He also knew she missed Larry even more than he did.  He felt shame that he was so wrapped up in his own problems he often forgot about hers.

He'd just put water and ground coffee into the Krupp's when the doorbell rang.

`If it's that damned Todd, I'm gonna kick his ass," Justin thought as he went to answer the door.

He was surprised to find Brody standing there looking good enough to eat in a tight red Marine tee, khaki shorts, and flip-flops.

"Hey, Jus."  Brody grinned.  "I'll bet you haven't had breakfast yet."

"Uh, no, I was just about to fix it."

"Come on.  We'll go get some."

Justin was pretty sure Brody had had his breakfast at 6:00 AM as usual, but he wasn't going to argue.

Once they were in Brody's old Cherokee and on their way, Brody asked, "Can you make do with something from McD's?"

"Sure.  Now, you wanna tell me what's up?"

"Can't I just have breakfast with my little brother?"

"Don't shit me, Sarge.  You've never done anything like this before."

"Jus, I remember all those Saturday mornings when you and Gary would stop by the shop.  I kind of miss them."

"Yeah, me too."

Justin was surprised when Brody pulled into the drive-up lane at McDonald's instead of parking.  Not having eaten for something like eighteen hours, he was starved and ordered a bunch of breakfast stuff.  Brody ordered a large coffee.

When they'd picked up their food, Brody drove to Higgins' large town square.  With a gazebo/bandstand in the center, it had lots of oaks and maples, with paths crisscrossing it.  Beside the paths were many benches.  

"Come on, bring your stuff.  We'll find a bench."

When they were seated and Justin was tearing into an Egg McMuffin or the variation of the week, Brody said, "I thought we could talk here."

Despite the early hour, walkers dotted the square, and some of the other benches were occupied, but no one was close by.

Swallowing, Justin said, "You're gonna yell at me, aren't you?"

"I promise not to raise my voice."

"That's not what I meant, Sarge, and you know it."

"Okay, Jus.  I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to split hairs.  But yes, I'm really disappointed with you."

Knowing full well what was coming, Justin tried a grin.  "What, you didn't like the picture?"

"I've always thought you were a hot kid, and now that you've grown some more, you're a hot man."

Justin could feel himself blushing.  Brody thought he was hot.  `Oh, god!'

Brody dumped the rest of his coffee on the grass, got up, walked to a nearby trash container, tossed in the cup, and returned to his seat.

"But Justin . . ."

He didn't think Brody had ever called him Justin before.  It reminded him of his parents when they were upset with him.

". . . I can't respect you like a man when you act like some dumbass kid."

Justin chuckled.  "You sound like Red Foreman."

"Don't try to change the subject.  What you and Todd did was totally irresponsible.  Apart from embarrassing yourselves, did it occur to you what embarrassment you'd be causing Dave if you were caught?  Which, of course, you were."

"Well, Brody, we got the shit scared out of us by that crazy big dude with the gun.  And Dave's chewed us out.  I'm pissed with Todd.  What more do you want?  I mean, how is this your business anyway?"

Brody looked sad and shook his head.

"Two people I love are involved here.  You've done something pretty foolish.  What if it had been a sheriff's deputy who caught you?  I'm pretty sure you were breaking several laws.  What if the guy had been a loony, a homophobe who wouldn't have had any qualms about beating you guys up, or shooting you?"

"Uh . . ."

Brody pointed a finger at him.  "I'm not through.  You listen.  Then I'll listen to you."

Though he was itching to defend himself, Justin, who'd never seen Brody like this, decided to wait.

"The other person I love is Dave.  The Dave who was good enough to give you a job for the summer.  The Dave who's working with your mother on at least two major projects that I know of.  The Dave who's trying very hard to run a business in competition with much larger firms in Toledo and has the liability that he's known to be gay and living with me.  I wouldn't have blamed him if he'd fired your asses on the spot.  What the fuck were you two thinking?"

"You through now?" Justin asked.  He took the food containers and napkins to the trash can and dumped them in, trying to calm himself as he did.  

Brody grinned.  "Affirmative.  Your turn."
"Look, Brode, The whole fuckin' thing was Todd's idea.  I didn't know what he had in mind when he turned down that road and pulled off into the field.  But I'd made a promise to him the weekend before that I'd do anything he wanted.  And he wanted me to screw him.  Like I was gonna turn that down?  There wasn't anybody around.  We had some fun.  If that crazy guy had come by twenty minutes later, we'd have been on our way home and nobody would have known anything.  I'm pissed with Todd that he got me into this shit.  But a promise is a promise, you know?  So what the fuck am I supposed to do about it now?"

Brody looked across the park for a minute or so.  When he turned back to Justin, his eyes looked sad.

"It was the farmer, not Todd who had the gun, right?"


"So Todd didn't hold a gun to your head, did he?"

"No, of course not."

"You could have said no.  You could have thought what a lame brained idea this was, couldn't you?"

"I suppose I could have.  But then I would have gone back on a promise.  Todd would have thought I was a wuss.  Besides, it was my turn to fuck him, and doing it out in the open like that seemed really hot at the time."

He bit his lower lip.

"Besides, I just don't see what's gotten your shorts in a twist.  No harm, no foul.  And it's none of your business anyway.  I'm eighteen now.  I'm starting college in a few weeks.  I don't need you treating me like a baby."

"I thought I was supposed to be your big brother."

"Maybe a big brother should know when to give his little brother some space, cut him some slack."

"Come on, Jus!"

Justin got up.  "Thanks for the breakfast.  I'm gonna walk home."

Brody sighed.  "I brought you here, Jus.  Let me take you back."

"No, dammit!  I want to walk."

"Okay.  I just hope you'll do some serious thinking.  I mean, I know things have been tough since your dad died, but—"

Justin cut him off.  "This doesn't have a fuckin' thing to do with Dad."  He flapped his hand dismissively at Brody, turned, and walked away.  

*          *          *

The more he thought about it, the more Justin came to believe that Todd had been manipulating him all along.  He'd been taken in by the guy's sexy looks and demeanor, by his wit and enthusiasm.  But looking back on it he realized that it was Todd who'd initiated just about everything they did together, Todd who made the decisions.  Todd who was more or less using him.  There was the bit about no kissing, no snuggling.  Todd wanted Justin for sex, but there was no emotion involved.  

Then he realized that never once had Todd called him by his first name.  It was always Quinn this and Quinn that.

He rebuffed three or four sexual advances from his work partner in the next week.  After that, Todd seemed to get the message.  They worked efficiently together, being civil, but the friendship was gone.

For the next couple of weeks they continued to play baseball.  Justin didn't talk to Brody except when he had to.  The same with Todd.  So there was very little chatter in the infield at the Hammers' games.  When they were in the dugout waiting their turn at bat, Justin often found himself sitting next to Dave, with Brody on the other side of Dave, and Todd next to Brody.  Though he couldn't explain why, it infuriated Justin to see Brody and Todd sitting together chatting amicably.  On the other hand, Dave probably knew about the scene in the park, but he never alluded to it.  He was as friendly and encouraging as ever.

Later Justin's attitude moderated somewhat.  He was hurt that Brody had chided him about the incident in the farmer's field, but he was beginning to feel guilty about how he'd reacted that day.  But dammit, if he'd wanted Brody's advice he'd have asked for it. It wasn't as if Brody was his Dad.

Todd had to leave Higgins two weeks before their jobs were supposed to end because of soccer camp at Kenyon.

As they were walking out of the shop on Todd's last day, he said, "Quinn.  Wait up a sec.  I've got something for you."

He went to his car, reached into the console, and pulled out a DVD, which he gave to Justin.

"Here's a memento for you."  He grinned.

Then he held out his hand.  "Good luck at Colby State.  Email me some time."

Surprised and puzzled, Justin shook hands and said, "Uh, thanks for the DVD.  You have a great year at Kenyon."

He turned and went to his own car as Todd got into the Mustang.

Justin felt a little guilty.  Maybe he'd been too hard on Todd.  Todd was just Todd, after all.  He'd been fun to work with and the sex had been great.

When he got home he took a shower and changed into clean shorts and tee.  He went to the kitchen.  He'd taken a casserole from the freezer the day before and put it in the fridge.  After setting the oven temperature, he removed the dish from the refrigerator and set it on top of the stove until the beeper let him know the oven was up to the proper temperature.  He took a Dr. Pepper from the fridge and went into the family room, where he turned on the TV and the DVD player.  He popped Todd's DVD into the tray and gave it a shove.

He sat down and took a swig of his soda.

The screen filled with the title:  "Slut Boy"

Those words disappeared and a second screen appeared:  "Starring Justin Quinn"

The Dr. Pepper Justin was swallowing came back up and out through his nose.  As he coughed and tried to get his breath, he saw a frozen picture on the screen.  It was him.  Naked.  Face down, ass in the air, a big red dildo sticking out of it.

"Awww, fuck!"  

There was soda down the front of his tee and shorts.  The oven was beeping that the preset temperature had been achieved.

He jumped up and went to the kitchen, where he put the casserole in the oven and set the timer.  Then he started for his bedroom to change clothes again but returned to the television when he remembered the DVD.  He yanked it from the player and took it with him so his mother wouldn't find it.

He decided that he'd wait and watch the rest of it that evening in his room.  

It was hard to think of anything else during supper.  What had that fucking Todd done?  The picture had to have been taken in Tom Nielsen's bedroom the weekend they spent there.  What else was on that DVD?  And who had copies of it?  His stomach tightened as he thought of all that.

His mother looked at him with concern and asked, "Justin, honey, do you feel okay?  You look a little peaked to me."

"Oh, yeah, Mom.  I was just thinking about the summer being almost over and starting to Colby State in a few weeks."

"This was Todd's last day, wasn't it?"

"Uh huh."

"Well, dear, I know you'll miss him."

He took a drink of milk so he wouldn't have to respond to that.  He forced himself to make conversation with his mother for the rest of their meal.  And he volunteered to do the cleanup without her help.  She stretched up to give him a kiss on the forehead.

"You're getting to be so tall!  My baby's a man!"

He worked slowly in the kitchen, dreading going to his room to watch the rest of that DVD.

Tom Nielsen's bedroom obviously had minicams hidden everywhere, including in the ceiling.  The video wasn't very long, but it was expertly edited.  Justin suspected Todd had done it himself.

It began with shots of Justin with, so far as he could recall, every one of the dildoes and vibrators in Tom's collection, along with Todd fucking him with a fat butt plug.  Only Justin's face showed.  Obviously another person was present, but it was mostly just Todd's arm that showed on camera.  It wasn't only Justin's face which showed, however.  He was on all fours, butt in the air; on his stomach, legs spread; on his back with his knees near his shoulders; even on his side with one leg in the air.  No matter what the pose, moreover, he had something up his ass.  And he was clearly enjoying it, or so one would judge from the blissed out look on his face most of the time.  The segment ended with Justin grunting and vigorously rocking back and forth on a long dildo that Todd's hand was merely holding in place.

The video gave no hint that Todd, too, had made use of most of the toys in his uncle's collections.

The second part of the video showed Justin admitting to being a cock slut and a whore, pleading to be fucked.  Todd's prompting him had been edited out, leaving the viewer with the impression that Justin was purely a wanton, needing to be fucked and urging someone off camera to give him what he needed.

When the video came to its conclusion, the words "The End" were superimposed over a picture of Justin, face down, ass in the air and wiggling.

He ran to the bathroom and tossed his supper into the toilet.  After drinking lots of water and then rinsing with mouthwash, he went back to his bedroom.  He was surprised and mortified to note that he had an erection.  Watching the video had been totally humiliating, and yet he was aroused.  Was he the whore Todd had goaded him into saying he was?

Then his gut clenched again.  Who else had this video?  Would Todd be bastard enough to show it around?  Had Tom Nielsen and Adrian Lynch seen it?  What would be done with it?

What was he going to do?  He needed to talk with someone, but there wasn't anyone to talk with.  He hadn't apologized to Brody for his behavior in the park that Saturday morning.  Besides, this wasn't something he could talk with Brody about.  He'd be too embarrassed.  At one point he might have discussed it with Gary, though he squirmed at the idea of Gary's seeing the DVD.  And it was the bastard Todd Nielsen who'd made the damned thing.

Even if his dad had been there, he couldn't have talked about it with him, either.

The first thing to do was to call Todd.  He tried Todd's cell phone and got no answer.  He called Tom Nielsen's home phone and got the voice mail.

`He can't have left town already!'  

Frustrated, Justin wrote an email to Todd.  He was pretty sure Todd wouldn't see it until he set up his pc in his dorm room at Kenyon, but he needed to vent.  And to find out who else might have a copy of the video.

When he turned on his computer the next morning, he was surprised to find a reply Todd had sent late the evening before.

Quinn—Had dinner at the restaurant with Adrian and Uncle Tommy.  Then we sat at Adrian's for a while and talked.  Glad I checked the email tonight since I'll be tearing the pc down first thing tomorrow.  Tom's borrowed a Navigator to haul my shit to Gambier.

Now, dude, about that vid.  Chill!  Nobody's got one but me.  Nobody's seen it but the two of us – unless you've been showing it around.  LOL.

Seriously, though, you ought to think about it.  Seems to me that under the swagger you really are a bottom boy.

Have a good year at CSU.  It's been fun!


Justin's first reaction was a sigh of relief that no one else, if Todd could be believed, had a copy of the DVD.  He'd worried that Adrian and Pinkie had been looking at it and laughing at him.  Or, worse, that they'd conspired with Todd to make the thing.  He wondered fleetingly what else that had happened there was recorded on DVD.  That was pushed from his mind by his anger at Todd's comments that he was really a "bottom boy."  Why would he say such a thing?  During the course of the summer he and Todd had pretty much taken turns, and he'd liked it both ways.  But a dedicated bottom?  He didn't think so!

He finished his last two weeks working along side another guy whose partner had left early for some sport camp or other before his school started.  Luke, the new work mate, was a nice guy, but very shy, and they often worked a whole job without saying much.

Gary called one Saturday afternoon, and they got together for burgers.  He was on his way to Indiana U. the next day for band camp before classes began there in a couple of weeks.  

Justin brooded about where things stood in his life.  He should be excited to be starting college, but everything sucked.  He didn't really have any friends anymore.    And he and Brody were just not in contact except at the last few baseball games, and even that was all business.

Finally, he couldn't stand it any longer.  He knew he had to apologize.  Not wanting to do it while Dave was around, he phoned and asked Brody if he'd come over sometime when it was convenient.

Brody surprised him by offering to come right away.  Justin checked to make sure that his mother was planning to work in her office for a while and told him to come on.

That meeting ended with a repentant, tearful Justin being hugged and reassured by his "big brother."

To Be Continued

If you liked this chapter, I'd love to hear from you.  Email me at t.mead76@yahoo.com.  Please be sure to put the name of the story in the subject line so I'll know it isn't spam.  Thanks.  --Tim