Date: Sat, 27 Feb 2016 10:02:48 -0700
From: jay roberts <diplomat1501@msn.com>
Subject: Cafe

Caf‚ Willben   By Jay Roberts      Gay Encounters


+++ This is not for you to encounter if you are younger than 18 years.

$$$ This story is in the category of Gay Encounters.  If you wish to have
countless gay encounters you must join the many who have contributed to
Nifty to ensure that this collection will prosper.

The big blond guy, whose two partners called Billy the kid, stood in front
of the Caf‚ Wlllben, He licked his full lips that were longing for a
large cold beer.

Bill was part of a team of three steeplejacks who traveled all over the
country doing jobs that no one else could or would tackle.  The tasks were
high, often eighty feet or more.  They entailed painted or repairing towers
or steeples or high roofs.  Bill was the young one of the group being only
twenty two.  He was kidded yesterday because he had to paint a statue on
the top of the court house and paint the penis as they watched and cheered.

There was an element of the sexual in the trio's relationship.  Gus said on
one drunken occasion, "You can get to love a guy when he is the one pulled
you up to safety when your harness broke."

This closeness turned physical at times.  They were cut off from ordinary
life and they were family and more to each other.  When at night Marty
might poke Billy, the kid, who was sleeping in the same bed and say, "Hey
kid, I'm kinda wired tonight.  A warm hand might help".

Billy cupped his big calloused hands and peered into the darker interior.
Inside he saw several tables some women and more men eating and drinking.
There was a sort of bar at the rear and behind it stood a pale haired young
man.  His boyish face and body made it hard to guess his age.  "About
thirty," thought Billy already imagining him naked and waiting in bed.

He started as another identical young man crossed his vision.  His
imagination raced lewdly as his generous cock elongated.  The fantasy of
two compliant boys made him dizzy as he breathed great gulps of air into
his lungs.

The two boys that Billy glimpsed through the store front window were Ben
and Will, sure enough identical twins but not those ordinary twins as not
one could tell them apart.  Usually twins have some small difference as one
being stronger looking or more handsome.  Not these.  They were
photographic images.

The caf‚ was run by the boy's late father.  In those days it served beer
and wine but when he died some years ago the kids decided it was too
complicated to get licenses and all and Ben particularly looked to make
deserts.  It became a popular stop for the town others passing through.
Ben's buttery, berry scones were favorite take out items and Will
complained that they were fast becoming a bakery.

Their father had cleverly bought buildings downtown and the rentals insured
that Will and Ben were fixed for life.  So the caf‚ became a hobby and a
social outlet for them.  Otherwise the closeness of their relationship
might have isolated them.  This closeness was as if they were both mother
and father for each other, especially when their dad was gone.  This
extended into a same sex type marriage of brothers.

Will happened to glance at the plate glass window as he was pouring coffee
for some elderly ladies and he motioned to the stranger with a come in
gesture.  As the door opened he filled the doorway.  His tumbling light
hair that was uncombed touched the top frame and his impossibly muscled arm
muscles flexed as he pushed the door.

His manly appearance contrasted with the dainty tingling bells that were
set a-tinkle by his entrance.  His shoulders filled the door frame to
frame.

The entire caf‚ stained at jim.  Ladies long past their prime flushed
with sudden heat and some of the men suddenly reverted to high school age
and experienced a man crush at his appearance.

Billy the kid was no matinee idol in appearance.  He was more.  Although
his rough clothes were spotted with paint and the skin on his face were
sunburned and wind roughened, he retained the boyish looks and even
innocence of an adolescent,

It was probably his wide open blue eyes topped by arched full eyebrows or
his puffy lips that barely covered his grin exposing large white teeth.  He
clumped toward the rear counter as the customers watched his oily stained
high shoes of an impossibly large size covering the small space in a few
seconds.

"A Bud," he said in a surprisingly young tenor voice.

Ben, who was behind the counter ringing up customer's checks took too long,
making Billy shift long, thick legs in discomfort.

"We don't serve liquor or beer or wine for that matter.  My father ran this
place and those days he did, but not now," he said with too much
explanation.  But the tall workman in front of him merely grinning at the
slight lisp in the voice.  But he looked crestfallen and just stood there
until Ben, his face brightening said, "We have some brandy in the frig that
we use as flavoring."

"Brandy, huh.  Okay, that's a plan."

He followed Ben into the kitchen area and sat on a white painted chair at
the flour stained table while Ben took out some milk and stuff to get at
the brandy in the back recesses.  Exclaiming "Eureka, " he held up an
almost full dusty bottle.

Billy reached out a long arm and grasped the bottle from the small hand of
Ben.  Ben felt a slight flutter of his vision as the reached bared the
blond hair covered wrist.  He shook himself into action and produced a
glass for his unexpected guest.  Billy treate4d the potent brandy like a
beer and almost filled his water glass and because he was thirsty he drank
the stuff down in one long swallow.  Ben stared at his bobbing Adam's apple
with returning weakness.

"Are you in town for long?" Ben asked.

"Jus' ro finish paintin' the church steeple.  Name's Billy.  They call me
Billy the kid," and he laughed a long time, throwing his head back and
displaying his smooth neck,

The effect of the brandy was evident at once.  Billy's eyes teared and Ben,
in a suddenly motherly action, grabbed a tissue and almost tenderly wiped
the drinker's eyes.

"Thanks," he husked.  "That stuff is strong."

As a silly look began to form on his handsome face and the speech was
delivered with a slight drunken accent Ben realized that the brandy was
more than his new friend realized.  Just then Will came into the kitchen.

"What you guys doing?"  Then seeing the brandy, he said "Warn him about
that stuff.  Daddy said it was like white lightening.  Look at jim, he's
shit faced already."

But with a devilish expression he put a hand on the rough fabric of Bill's
jacket and asked "You want some more?"

Ben gasped but Will poured a half tumbler full and with both eager hands
around the glass, like a boy with his milk, he drank it down.  A moment
later he slumped a bit in the chair and closed is eyes and just sat there a
faint smile on his face.

"What should we do with him," Ben asked but he already had a few ideas as
he studied the full crotch revealed by the slump.

Will scratched his beardless chin and said slowly, "It's closing time and
there is only old Joe finishing his coffee.  "I'll shoe him out and we'll
take this beauty upstairs and bath him.  He needs it."

"Like we did with Daddy," Ben said remembering all the times their father
came home drunk and they took care of him (in more ways than bathing.)

The boys each took a big arm around their shoulder and assailed with the
sweet body odor of the young steeplejack they grunted their way to their
cottage behind the cafe.


End of Part One