Places: Salina, Utah
Part Two
By John Yager

This is one more in the series of stories collectively titled Places.

Andrew, as always, thank you for much needed help with proofing and editing.

This work is copyright © by the author, 2004, and may not be reproduced in any form without specific written permission from the author. It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written permission of the author.

All my stories can be found under my name in the NIFTY Prolific Net Authors section.

After another huge breakfast and a later start than I'd intended, we were on our way.

That afternoon we checked into the Defiance House Lodge overlooking Lake Powell. The drive from Salina hadn't been all that long, but we stopped frequently to look at the amazing scenery.

During one stop, about one o'clock, we'd eaten the picnic lunch Joseph's Aunt Anna had packed.

We sat side by side on a stone bench at a little roadside park, eating sandwiches and fruit.

Joseph put his free hand on my thigh and squeezed gently. "I'm so grateful for everything you're doing for me," he whispered.

"I'm glad you came with me," I said, putting my hand gently over his.

The drive gave us a lot of time to talk. I learned more about Joseph's extended family, about the uncles and aunts and dozens of cousins, about his father, who had died in a car accident at the age of 38, and about his mother, who had raised her kids to dream and to think for themselves.

The motel in Salina had been built by his mother's parents and the family had run it for thirty years when it was badly damaged in a fire a year after his father's death. By then his mother was running it by herself. Her parents were too old to do much.

Her mother, in a rather daring move, had decided to risk the business and rebuild after the fire to more modern standards so that the motel could get a national franchise. It had been a struggle but an eventual success and Joseph knew his mother and sisters would be well off for the rest of their lives.

"They'll never leave Salina," he'd said as we stood looking out over the vast expanse of the Dixie National Forest.

"When will you go back?"

"I told my mother I'd be home for Christmas, but not until then. I need to stay away at least for a little while before I'll feel safe going back."


"Yeah, you know, from the whole LDS thing. It really is like a black hole, John. The combination of family pressure, community approval and knowing everybody's thinking you are on the road to hell is enough to suck a lot of people back in, even if they made a break and tried to get away from it."

"Don't you think it can be the same with all religions?" I said, remembering friends of mine who'd had their own Catholic or Baptist or Pentecostal issues.

"Maybe, but the only one I know is Mormon."

"Will you ever go back to live there?"

"I can't imagine it," he said. There was a sadness in his voice. For a guy not yet nineteen, he had a lot to deal with but I sensed that he had an internal strength, a resiliency, that would see him through a lot.

"Are you religious, John?"

"Yes," I'd answered.

"I want to be, once I can break away from all the old stuff I was raised with and find out what I really believe on my own."

"Looking out over these views," I said, referring to the endless views we were driving through, "I can't imagine not believing in God."

"Me neither, but I think he's a lot different than the way I was raised to see him."

As we checked in at the Defiance House Lodge the clerk asked if we wanted a room with two queen beds or one king. Before I could respond, Joseph said, "king." I didn't challenge him, not wanting to arouse the clerk's suspensions about the nature of our relationship.

Relationship, I caught myself thinking. We had no relationship. We were just casual friends at best.

I made note of the restaurant off the lobby, which was in a separate building from the guest rooms. There was no swimming pool, I also noticed, and after a day on the road, I was ready for a swim or at least a long, cool shower. Our room had a spectacular view of the lake and Joseph was so impressed he was almost beside himself.

I thought about swimming in the lake, but it seemed to be too much of an effort.
The late summer evening was coming on and the sun was sliding toward the horizon.

"What do you want to do?"

"I'd like a shower and then a good meal," I said. Then realizing he might take that as a criticism of the cooking at the Thomson Café, added, "as good as your Aunt Anna's cooking."

He smiled.

"So do you want to shower first, or shall I go first?"

"Go ahead," he said, a certain bemusement in his voice.

"Okay, while I shower, you call your mother."

I'd wondered how to deal with the issue of dressing, or more importantly, undressing in front of Joseph, and had decided if we were going to spend a few days and nights together, I might just as well toss modesty to the wind. After he said we wanted a king bed, rather than two queens, I'd assumed he had more in mind than just being roommates.

So, with a bit of casual bravado, I stripped to my jockey shorts and went into the bathroom, leaving the door ajar. Joseph didn't pay any overt attention to the process, but I did sense that out of the corner of his eye he was checking me out.

I'd just gotten lathered up when he pulled the shower curtain aside and stood there naked, looking at me.

"Can I join you?"

"It'll be crowded," I said, trying to sound as casual about it as he had.

"I don't mind."

He stepped into the tub and pulled the curtain shut behind him. His body was magnificent; young of course, but more muscular than I'd suspected, smooth, lithe.

"Did you get your mom?"

"Yeah, she said to say thanks."

He took the soap from me and began to lather my shoulders.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Saying thanks."

"Well, Joseph, you are very welcome."

"You're in good shape," he said, running his sudsy hands over my chest.

"I try."

"I hope I'm not overstepping bounds, but when you asked me to come with you, I assumed . . . I hoped, the offer included sex."

"I wasn't taking that for granted."

"But you don't object."

"No, not if you really want it."

"I do, desperately," he said, grasping my pulsing cock, stroking it a little, and then leaning forward, kissing me lightly on the lips. It was a soft kiss, gentle, not at all aggressive, but with a hint of something more, a sort of promise.

I took the soap from him and turned him around. He put his hands against the tile wall and spread his legs a little, giving me access to his body, permission.

I lathered his shoulders and back, working down over the tight ribcage and the tight muscles of his back and rear. His cute butt stuck out toward me like a pair of melons, round, firm, fully packed.

I let my soapy fingers run down his tight crack, then up again, passing over his pucker. His body jerked and he moaned aloud.

"How far did you go with that cousin of yours?"

"At first we just jerked each other off but after a while we started giving each other blow jobs."

"Did you want to go further?"

"Not with him, but I want to do everything with you."

"Everything's a big order."

"Well," he smiled, "I hope we have the time."

We finished showering and I reached out for towels. We dried ourselves and each other, making a tangle of it, then, stepping out onto the bathroom tile, Joseph leaned toward me and kissed me again. As the towels fluttered to the floor, I pulled him into a warm, naked embrace. Our bodies pressed together, still damp and warm from the shower, both of us becoming more excited, more erect.

The kiss deepened as Joseph moaned in my arms. He was a few inches shorter than me and his head tilted back as I pressed my lips to his. He moaned deeply and his arms locked around my neck as my tongue teased. He opened slightly, allowing me in.

When we broke apart we were both breathless.

"Let's wait a while for dinner," he murmured.

"Do you want to get into bed?"

"Yes," he said, breathing hard.

We tossed back the covers between us and rolled onto the clean, white sheets, meeting in the center of the big bed.

Suddenly he was all over me, kissing me, stroking me, rolling me onto my by back so he could explore my body with greater abandon. I lay quietly, my legs akimbo, my arms spread, letting him do as he pleased.

His mouth found my nipples and devoured them, kissing, licking, sucking, finally biting them until my cock was jerking and my whole body trembled at his touch. He moved down, grasping me, kissing the drooling head, then licking his way down the length of my shaft.

Coming up, he took the head into his mouth and began the slow decent. I was amazed by his skill. He gagged a couple of times, but didn't stop, eventually taking my entire length, deep-throating me, making my body sing.

I worked him and myself around till I could suck his lovely cock as he sucked mine. He was straight, cut, with only a small grove of pale hair above his shaft. His body and balls were completely smooth.

I took him to the edge and then backed off. He was gasping and I knew he needed to come.

"Shall I finish it?" I asked.

"Yes, yes," Joseph moaned and I dove down again, taking all of him as he again sucked about half of my cock into his warm, wet mouth. I felt him jolt, felt his body stiffen, and then my throat was filled with his cream. That was all it took to push me over the edge as well. We both slurped and swallowed, barely taking all the other produced. Then, looking up at each other with a pair of goofy grins, our mouths smeared with come, he laughed, a joyful, happy laugh. "Oh, wow!"

I turned around and crawled up beside him, taking him in my arms as we continued to kiss. As our passions ebbed we dozed a little. Joseph hummed in his half sleep, almost a snore, more than a moan. I stroked his hair, then let my one free hand roam over his body, exploring the cleft between his mounded pectoral muscles, teasing the little tufts of blond hair in his armpits.

Eventually, I too drifted off, dozing gently for half an hour or so.

"John?" I heard Joseph say as I came out of a happy dream. "Are you awake?"

"More or less," I smiled. His face, hovering above me, was angelic, the face of a boy, but the muscular body which still pressed against mine was a man's body, fully formed, hard, cut, the stuff that dreams are made of.

He rolled over, pulling me with him, till we were on our sides, face against face.

He kissed me again, then whispered into my gaping mouth, "I want you  in me."

"You've never done that before," I said, not as a question, but a statement, remembering the brief history he'd shared.

"No, but I'm sure you'll be gentle. I really want it, John."

"Could I talk you into getting dressed and going to dinner? Then we could come back here and take our time."

"No, I want it now."

I kissed him again and then rolled over into a sitting position on the side of the bed. When I got up he asked where I was going.

"Lube and condoms," I said, looking back over my shoulder. He lay there in the early evening light, his body golden, his hair glowing like fire. Behind him, outside the windows, Lake Powell had turned blood red and the sun hung like a crimson disk a few degrees above the horizon.

I got the stuff from my bag and came back to lie beside him on the bed. "Do we have to use condoms?" he asked.

"Do you want the safe sex talk now or later?"

"Does that mean I'm going to hear it eventually, one way or another?"


"Well, let's get it over with then."

I laughed, leaning over to kiss him again as I stretched out beside him and began to stroke his chest.

"How well do you know me, Joseph?"

"Pretty well, I think."

"Pretty well?"

"I know you're a great guy, John. I feel like I can trust you, that you'd not hurt me or anything."

"That's true, sonny boy, I'd not hurt you, but do you know where I'm coming from?"

"You said you'd been in San Francisco on business."

"That's right. I have an office there and spend several weeks a year in the Bay Area." I paused a moment, letting that fact sink in. "Next question, do you know whom I slept with last Saturday night?"

"No," he said, his voice a little lower.

"Or last Friday night?"


"It was a different guy each night."

"So you think you might be infected with something?"

"No, I don't think that. I get tested every six months and I practice safe sex. I don't think I'm infected, but remember what you said, that I was the kind of guy you could trust, the kind of guy who'd never hurt you. One of the worst things I could do would be to take chances with your health and your future. Besides, you'll feel a lot better tomorrow, knowing we played safe.

"Just expect to always use condoms, Joseph. You need to get that rule engraved on your brain, young man, no exceptions, no excuses."

"You use condoms even with your closest friends?"

"For me, there are a few exceptions. But if even my closest friends tell me they've had sex with anybody else, I don't take a chance."

"What if they say they've not been with anyone else and they've been tested, and you feel pretty certain they are safe?"

"Rarely, very rarely, Joseph, I make an exception, if they assure me they've not been with anyone else."

"How can you know, if they've had sex with anybody else, I mean?"

"Good question. I guess it depends on whether I know them and trust them and really believe them or not."

"It sort of takes the fun out of it, doesn't it?"

"Maybe some of the spontaneity, but not any of the fun. Look, Joseph, you're heading for Denver. I know that city pretty well and I know there's a big, active gay community there. You'll be with a lot of guys, young, sexually active guys and you are one cute kid. You'll have so many men banging on your door you'll have to hire a social secretary."

He laughed a cute little laugh and nuzzled my chest.

"So the answer to your question is yes, we have to use condoms. My advice to you would be to say you will never have unprotected sex until you are in a monogamous relationship with a guy you can trust to be faithful, and you've both been tested and know you are okay."

"Okay," he said meekly.

I kissed him again and then ran my hand down behind his balls and began to finger his pucker. "Now let's see how tight that cherry ass of yours really is."

He giggled but he spread his legs further, giving me better access.

I worked one finger into him, coating the walls of his channel with a generous amount of lube. It didn't take long for him to relax. I pulled back and then inserted two fingers where there had just been one.

It took longer that time, but I eventually felt the hard ring of his sphincter relax and knew he was ready for more. Pressing three fingers into him took quite a while. The boy was tight. A thin film of sweat broke out on his forehead and chest and his breathing got quicker. His muscular chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm as if he were making a deliberate effort to ride it out. Then, as before, he relaxed, his body giving way, accepting the presence of my fingers.

"I think you're ready, Joseph, if you really want this?

"Yeah, I want it, John," he moaned. "Please, now."

I moved closer, positioning myself between his legs, then lifted them to my shoulders, rocking him back a little so his dilated hole was angled up, ready for my entry. I tore open one of the little square packets and rolled the condom down the length of my shaft, then positioned myself against him and pressed in. When the head of shaft popped past his sphincter, I waited, letting him rest, letting his body adjust to the new presence. If he felt any pain, he said nothing. The little beads of sweat on his chest and arms became more noticeable, but there was no other sign of discomfort.

As I slid slowly in, Joseph made a low moaning sound. It was as if a deep breath of air escaped his lungs in one long, controlled sigh.

When I was fully in him, I waited again, still supporting my own weight, letting him come to terms with having me in him, letting him come to terms with the fact that he was no longer a virgin.

"Yeah," he moaned again, "yeah."

I pulled back and slid slowly in again. He was so damned tight and his body radiated heat like a well stoked furnace. He put his hands around my neck, locking them behind my head, and pulled me down to him. His legs were still bent over my shoulders and as I came forward he lifted his lips to mine. The blond hair on his thighs tickled my ears and neck. It wasn't the easiest position, but he wanted to kiss, so we kissed. I felt myself shudder deep in him and I began to move, my strokes limited in length by the position we were in, but the action was none the less hot.

Joseph's eyes were wide open in amazement and locked on mine.

"Oh, yeah, John," he moaned again. "It's amazing, totally amazing," he whispered, "just like I knew it would be."

When our kissing ended, I backed off a little so I could begin to long stroke him. On about my second or third trip, I hit his prostate and saw his eyes jolt open.

"Oh god," he moaned.

"Amazing, isn't it?"

"Yeah . . . it feels . . . like you're . . . beating me off . . . from someplace deep . . . inside my body," he whispered. His voice was shaking and the words came slowly, disconnected, erratic.

"I am."

We were both moving toward climax and I made an effort to slow it down, finally just stopping where I thought the head of my cock was pressing most securely against his knot, staying there, letting him calm down a little, but not completely. When he had cooled off a little and we'd both moved back from the edge, I started in again, slower this time, taking it easy, just moving enough to keep myself hard and him guessing.

The pressure built and this time I didn't try to delay it. When I felt we were both nearly there, I began to thrust into him hard and fast again.

It was over in seconds. Joseph erupted over his taut belly and his ring muscles spasmed around my shaft.

"Yeah," I growled as my seed filled the condom. "Yeah."

Later that evening, showered and dressed and looking like any of the other tourists, we ate a hearty meal at a quiet corner table in the restaurant; steak and baked potatoes and huge wedges of apple pie and thick cream. I was amused by his appetite until I realized I was keeping up with him. We had had an exhausting afternoon.

Still later we lay snuggled together in the king-size bed, talking about our travel plans for the next few days, about getting to Denver and Joseph starting university classes in a couple of weeks.

"Where do you usually stay?" he asked when I told him I was in Denver every six or eight weeks.

"The Warwick, on Eighteenth and Grant," I told him. "They know me well and take good care of me."

"You've got to be kidding!"


"That's the hotel where two of my future roommates have jobs."

"Really?" I said, wondering if I knew them. As it turned out, I didn't. One of them worked in the kitchen and the other, whom I'd probably seen, but didn't really know, was a night porter. "Just as well," I said when he'd told me their names. "It might prove awkward."

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, for starters, I was sort of hoping you'd spend another night or two with me there before you move in with the guys, and I was also thinking about the chances of seeing you again when I'm back in town."

"No kidding?"

"Yeah, but we'd have to be careful if you end up working there. Most hotels frown on staff getting it on with guests."

"I can be very discreet," he laughed as he nuzzled into my chest and soon went off to sleep.

The end