Date: Sat, 8 Jul 2000 18:21:56 -0700
From: Desert Guys <jg.ps@gte.net>
Subject: Jim and Jimmy -- Chapter Five

Jim and Jimmy
by Greg Bowden
jg.ps@gte.net

"There were no confessions but they both knew. And it was okay..."

Three weeks passed rapidly. Jim was still putting in fifteen hour days at
the office, at least when he was in town; out of town his days were
frequently longer. Things were getting done, however. He'd nailed down one
major project and was rapidly closing in on two more. Less satisfactory was
what he had come to think of as The Caughlan Matter. Every time he thought
he was at the end of it some little detail would catch his eye and that
would lead him to some brand new aspect of the mess. It was beginning to
look like some others were involved, too, and Jim was growing more and more
uneasy at what he was finding.

For Jimmy, things were better. He'd fallen into a routine at work and had
the apartment organized. He didn't have much in the way of furniture yet,
but that would come a piece at a time, as he could afford it. He did,
however, at his father's insistence, go out and buy a very good, very
expensive bed.

The bed was bought from the Flex Mattress Factory ("FLEXible coils,
FLEXible support, FLEXible payment plans") which someone at the office had
recommended as having the best mattresses available. The place was located
in one of the seedier parts of town and Jimmy was just a little put off the
evening he went to look. The building was covered with graffiti and the
empty lot next door was strewn with trash and broken glass. All the windows
had bars on them.

Inside was a different story. The place was well lighted, air conditioned,
and the background music was classical. There didn't seem to be anyone
around so Jimmy wandered among the displays not really knowing what he was
looking for.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't know anyone was here. That damn door buzzer must
be broken again." The speaker was a man about Jimmy's age, tall, reddish
blond and very well built. The man put out his hand, "Hi. My name's Kyle
and I assume you're looking for a bed?"

Jimmy shook the offered hand and smiled. "Yes, I guess I am. But I'm not
really sure just what I want."

"Humm." Kyle looked him over. "Well, my guess is that you want one that is
serviceable, big and fairly hard." His eyes twinkled. "I have just what you
want, come on."

As Kyle led him through the maze of the showroom Jimmy couldn't help but
admire the twin mounds of the man's ass. There didn't seem to be any
underwear lines and he wondered if Kyle was naked under those soft tan
trousers. He felt his dick begin to stir and was thankful for the jockey
shorts he was wearing.

"Here we are." Kyle indicated a huge mattress covered in rainbow
stripes. When he turned Jimmy could tell he was naked under his trousers.

"It is big," Jimmy said, not sure just what he was referring to.

"Yes and I think you'll find it firm enough for comfort but not so hard it
makes you ache. And serviceable-oh my, yes, it'll give you great
service. You want to try it?" He patted the bed. He also, Jimmy noticed,
was developing a small wet spot on his trousers.

"Uh, sure. Why not?" He stepped out of his loafers and laid down on the
bed. He noticed that his dick, which was well on the way to a full
erection, made a very nice bulge at his crotch. He stretched, arching his
back and noticed that Kyle noticed too.

"It's also quite comfortable for two," Kyle said, lying down next to
Jimmy. "You'll notice that there's absolutely no sag even if your bedmate
is quite close."

They gave up the pretense and unzipped each other's trousers. Kyle's dick
fell right out and expanded quickly to full hardness but Jimmy's got caught
in his jockeys and he had to help Kyle get it out. When it was free Kyle
turned around on the bed and slowly went down on it, clear to the base.

Jimmy was surprised to find that Kyle was uncut although his foreskin
wasn't nearly as long as Jimmy's. Jimmy drew Kyle's cock into his mouth
using his lips to skin it back the way his dad did to him. Kyle seemed to
like it as much as he did and let out a quiet sigh. Jimmy rolled the
foreskin back up, trapping his tongue between it and Kyle's cockhead. He
put his arms around Kyle and ran his hands over his ass. He wished he'd
brought a condom but then decided this probably wasn't the place. Besides,
Kyle was a great cock sucker. He didn't think he was going to last long.

Kyle was thinking the same thing about Jimmy. It was going to be a quick
blow job but that was just as well considering he'd forgotten to lock the
showroom door.

It didn't take long. Jimmy went first, almost choking Kyle, and then Kyle
returned the favor. For a few moments there it wouldn't have mattered if
someone had come in the showroom. They'd simply have had to wait.

"Well," Kyle said, catching his breath, "what do you think of the bed?"

Jimmy patted Kyle's ass. "If you come with it, sold."

Kyle laughed and flexed his buns. "I already came with it but... I think we
can work something out."

Kyle had one of those dicks that won't go completely flaccid for a long
time after sex so, even tucked back in his trousers, it made quite a
show. While they were filling out the paper work, Jimmy wondered if Kyle
skipped the underwear on purpose: so the customer would be too distracted
to think much about the price he was paying for a bed.

Be that as it may, it turned out to be a very good bed: big, firm and
serviceable. They arranged delivery for the following week.

On his way home Jimmy had a sudden thought. Damned if his father hadn't
been right again. It had been fun but it didn't mean a thing.

It didn't mean anything either when Kyle showed up with the delivery men
and ended up spending the night. Neither of them got a whole lot of sleep
but the next morning Jimmy, at least, felt better than he had in a week.

-------------------

Jim, in the meantime, wasn't having much fun at all. He was exhausted every
night when he got home and often skipped dinner to go directly to bed. His
weekends were worse because he was in some hotel and usually under extra
pressure because he was dealing with clients.

He also hated the aggravation of being away from home. Hotel living may
sound like the easy life but it isn't, especially on weekends when most of
the demanding business men are home playing with their children-Jim smiled
at the thought of that-and service sometimes gets very lax.

So it was at a Chicago hotel one Sunday when an early morning call from a
client canceled the day's meetings and rescheduled them for
Monday. Suddenly Jim had nothing to do on a rainy day in a town where he
didn't know a soul.

The first thing he did was sleep until eleven. Then he called room service
and ordered two bloody Mary's, coffee and the Sunday paper. Then he
waited. At eleven-thirty he called room service again and they assured him
it was on its way. At eleven-forty-five they said the same thing. At twelve
he called the manager and left a message with someone who claimed to be his
secretary.

At around twelve-thirty there was a knock at his door. He opened it to a
tall, good looking man of about fifty. Jim thought he would probably look a
few years younger if he dyed the gray in his neatly cropped beard.

"Mr. Keith?" the man asked, stepping into the room. "My name is Barry
Silverton. I'm the Assistant Manager during the week and I just happened to
come by to check on something and Maria said you'd called with a
complaint. Since the manager on duty has stepped out for a couple of hours,
I thought I'd see if there is something I can do."

The man's warm, friendly manner completely disarmed Jim and allowed him to
describe what had happened without the anger he'd felt just a moment
before. Mr. Silverton listened attentively but his expression became more
and more set as the story went on. When Jim was finished the man crossed
the room and picked up the phone. He spoke slowly and clearly and whoever
was on the other end of the conversation had to know he was very angry.

He put the phone down and turned to Jim. "Mr. Keith, I cannot apologize
enough on behalf of the hotel. This is inexcusable. Now, if you will give
me ten minutes," he glanced at Jim, still in his robe, "perhaps go ahead
and take your shower, I will attempt to make amends." He looked into the
bathroom, checking to be sure it was in order and that there were plenty of
towels, then nodded at Jim and let himself out.

Jim did as the man suggested and got into the shower where he stood under
the hot water for a long time, letting it wash the anger out. Then he
shaved, applied shampoo and conditioner to his hair-all of it-and generally
pampered himself. When he was finished he dried, tossed the towel into the
little hamper under the sink and went out in search of his clothes. He
found himself face to face with Mr. Silverton.

"Oh, I beg your pardon, Mr. Keith," Mr. Silverton said, his eyes sliding
over Jim until he caught himself. "I took the liberty of letting myself in;
I didn't think you'd mind."

Jim glanced around the room. There were new vases of fresh flowers, a
silver bucket with a bottle of champagne cooling in it, another silver
bucket with what appeared to be bottles of red and white wine, a table
spread with a white cloth and a room service cart holding pitchers of
juice, coffee, and a large assortment of fancy sandwiches.

"Well, I am impressed," Jim said, turning and catching the man looking him
over again.

"It's the least we could do, Mr. Keith."

Jim laughed. "I think, considering my state of dress, you could call me
Jim." A little spark jumped between them.

"Will I have to undress to get you to call me Barry? Jim?"

"It would help immensely." Jim's voice had grown husky and he felt his dick
begin to lengthen.

Barry crossed to the phone, dialed and issued some orders. Then he went to
the door and hung out the Do Not Disturb sign. He came back into the room
and stood, seemingly at loose ends. After a moment he blurted out, "Could
you not watch. It's silly but I've always been shy about undressing in
front..." Jim smiled at the stricken look on the man's face and turned his
back.

"Shall I open the champagne or would you like something else?" He could
hear the sounds of undressing behind him; he smiled when he heard the
zipper go and wondered if he'd turn and find Barry in a robe.

"The champagne would be fine, Jim. Glasses on the sideboard."

It was very good champagne Jim noted as he popped the cork. He was filling
the second glass when he felt a hand on his side. "Here, let me." It was
Barry and there was no robe in sight. Jim looked away.

"No, it's okay. I like being naked, being seen. It's only the undressing
part that I'm shy about. Probably something to do with my childhood or
something but there's no changing it now." He touched his glass to Jim's
and drank.

They stood in the middle of the room looking each other over. They were
about the same height but Barry was perhaps a little heavier than Jim
although none of it was fat. The man's body was hard and well muscled. He
hadn't a hair on him except for his head and a narrow but thick bush that
arched over the base of his cock. His cock was smaller than Jim's but
perfectly shaped-and beginning to lift itself away from its resting place
against his balls.

They stepped close to each other, until Jim's dick was wedged up under
Barry's balls and Barry's was pressed against Jim's hip, and stood, looking
at each other. Barry shivered when Jim's chest hair touched him but didn't
press forward; he merely inclined his head a little and touched his lips to
Jim's. As if at a signal they drained their glasses, set them on the
sideboard and went to the bed. There was a slight delay as they figured out
who wanted to be where and then they were on the cool sheets, touching,
kissing and nuzzling.

Jim licked his way down the man's body, amazed at the smooth coolness of
his skin. Even his scrotum was smooth, feeling the way Jim thought silk
would feel against his lips. Then it was Barry's turn and he ran his
fingers through Jim's hair, getting them caught in the curls. He found
Jim's nipples and sucked on them, now and then nipping at them, sending
bolts of electricity down to Jim's cock.

Jim flipped around on the bed and turned Barry over on his belly so he
could get at his ass. He patted and touched and pulled Barry's buns
apart. When he ran his tongue over the little brown pucker Barry groaned in
pleasure so he did it again. The third time Barry came. There was no
warning, no preliminary signs; one second Jim was tonguing Barry's ass and
the next Barry was shaking and sobbing into the pillow. When he turned over
his cock was shrunken and wet and he'd left an unbelievably large wet spot
on the sheet.

He smiled sheepishly at Jim. "I'm sorry. I should have warned you how
sensitive I am there."

"Does it always happen like that?" Jim went to the sideboard and refilled
their glasses.

"No, not always that fast. But you're so damn sexy the way you touched me."
He accepted his glass and sipped then looked up at Jim almost shyly. "It's
not over you know. Unless you want it to be. I... It only takes me a couple
of minutes... after."

Sure enough his cock was slowly crawling out along his belly. In a moment
it was standing out in the air, hard as when they'd started. Jim went back
to the bed and sat down. "Are you still so sensitive," he slid his hand
between Barry's legs, "down here?"

Barry caught his breath. "Almost." He pulled Jim's head down to his and
whispered, "Do you have a condom?" Jim nodded and went to the bathroom to
get it. There were only three left in the package.

When he returned to the bed he found Barry on his back with a pillow under
his ass. Barry pulled him close and took him in his mouth. It wasn't long
before Jim was as hard as Barry and as anxious. Barry took the condom from
Jim's hand and unrolled it on his cock.

Jim knelt on the bed and Barry hooked his legs over Jim's shoulders. Jim
spread some lube over his dick and rested the head against Barry's
sphincter, waiting. Barry grabbed his hips and pulled him in, all the way,
all at once. Jim sucked in his breath and waited a moment, letting the man
get used to the bulk suddenly inside him. Then he began to pull out, very
slowly.

When he'd pulled out until only his cockhead remained inside he paused and
then shoved it all the way back in. Barry cried out in pleasure and his
cock began leaking fluid on his belly. When Jim did it again, the same way,
Barry bucked beneath him and gasped, "Oh, yes, please, only
faster. Faster."

Jim sped up his strokes, watching Barry's eyes loose their focus. Then,
while he was kissing him, Barry came again, clamping down on Jim's dick and
crying out into his mouth. Jim came in a wash of pleasure.

Barry came two more times that afternoon, once before dinner and once after
and each time he put out a flood of cum, more than Jim would after saving
it up for a week. The bed was a mess by the end but Barry happily took care
of it, getting fresh sheets from the maid's closet down the hall and
showing his expertise at hotel bed making.

When they kissed good-bye Jim hugged him and then ran his hands down
Barry's back and tried to pry his buns apart. Barry moaned and nipped him
on the tongue. "Don't, Jim. Please. I'll smell of cum in the taxi."

Jim slept well that night, better than he had in over two weeks.


-----------------


There were no confessions when Jim and Jimmy met Friday night at the
lake. They fell into each other's arms and, exhibiting a bit more restraint
than they had the last time, waited until they were inside the house before
they stripped each other naked and brought each other the pleasure they
both had anticipated.

There were no confessions but they both knew. And it was okay; somehow it
strengthened their passion. One day they'd talk about it, but not
today. Today was for them alone.

The time gods cranked things up and the weekends-not to mention the weeks
in between-passed with dizzying speed. Jim did clean up the mess left by
Mr. Caughlan-and managed to keep Mr. Caughlan out of jail although several
other very high ranking officers did go. The company paid what it had
to-eleven million dollars-and was happy it wasn't more. Jim signed up five
more major clients and was appointed Executive Vice President.

Jimmy was promoted to supervisor of the largest group in his department and
found he hated the job. Somehow being responsible for thirty-seven
employees was not the same as being responsible for himself. Nevertheless
Jimmy excelled in the job and earned several rapid promotions until, at the
age of twenty-seven, he found himself an Assistant Vice President and
Manager of the Real Estate Department. He had more than four-hundred people
reporting to him and was making more money than he had ever dreamed he'd
make.

His father thought his heart might burst of pride and love.

On the Saturday after Jim turned fifty, a hot, sticky September weekend,
they met at the lake for a whole week together. Jimmy went down on Friday
evening to make sure everything was ready; Jim turned up around ten on
Saturday.

"Hi, Dad. Happy birthday." Jimmy put his arms around him and kissed him for
a long time. It had been almost a month since they'd seen each other.

"You're looking good, son," Jim said, holding Jimmy at arm's length and
smiling. "So how come you want to hang around with an old codger of fifty?"

"'Cause you're an old codger with a big dick," Jimmy laughed, groping
him. "And because I love you. Always have, always will."

They went into the house and Jimmy took his father by the hand. "Come on, I
want to show you your birthday present." He led him up the stairs to the
bedroom. "Okay," he said, letting go of his hand, "go look."

"Look where?"

"In there." Jimmy pointed to the bathroom.

Jim stepped forward and looked in. "Oh my God." The side wall of the
bathroom had been removed and a very large shower had been added on. A
shower with three glass walls and a glass roof. A shower big enough for
five. The opposite wall had been knocked out too and now there was room for
a double lavatory. There was also, where the old lavatory had been, a
trough urinal.

"Look here." Jimmy touched a button and part of the roof and the upper part
of the two side walls retracted, opening the shower to the outside. "And I
checked. All around the lake. Old Mr. Fireworks won't be able to see much
of anything, even with his telescope."

Jim didn't know what to say. He'd complained about the size of the bathroom
for so long that it had become a sort of joke between them. And now... He
wiped some moisture out of the corner of his eye. "It's beautiful, son." He
walked out, into the shower. "Beautiful." He slowly turned, looking at
everything. Even the towels were new and they were yellow, his favorite
color.

"Where did you ever find that?" He pointed at the urinal. "It's wonderful."
He unbuttoned his jeans and stepped up to it. Jimmy, licking his lips,
stepped up next to him and did the same thing. "This," Jim said, turning to
kiss his son, "is exactly what this place has always needed." He glanced
down and did a double take. "A mirror? Now where'd you get that idea?"

"A bar I went to a few times. The one there, though, is made of
mirror. Back, sides, bottom, all mirror." They were watching each other pee
and watching it from a completely new angle; they both began to get hard.

"I think," Jim said, his voice growing thick with desire, "I need a
shower. Will you join me?"

Jimmy pulled off his tee shirt and shucked out of his pants. "That was the
idea, Dad."

The spent a long time in the shower, quickly giving up any pretense of
washing each other's backs and finally rolling around on the floor with all
five shower heads beating down on them while they blew each other. It was
very satisfying all the way around.

Later, over a lunch of cold chicken and salad Jimmy said, "I hope you like
the new bathroom, Dad. I know I should have discussed it with you but I
wanted it to be a surprise."

"It was a surprise all right. A wonderful, unexpected surprise." Jim turned
serious for a moment. "And remember, son, this is your place, to do with as
you see fit." He held up his hand. "Oh, I know, we act as though it's ours,
and for the most part I think of it as ours, but it is, in fact,
yours. That makes the bathroom all the more wonderful."

"Thanks, Dad, but I guess I'll always see the place as ours. I've loved you
here. In fact, other than that one time in River City, when I graduated,
this is the only place we've ever made love. So it's ours."

Jim wiped moisture from his eye again. "Two times." He nodded at Jimmy's
raised eyebrow. "If you'll think back, we did it twice up there, once in
the middle of the night and once more in the morning, when you sat on my
dick and blew my mind." He reached across the table and ran his finger very
lightly across his son's lips. His voice dropped to a whisper. "You wanna
do it again?"

Lunch was forgotten for the moment and Jimmy did, in fact, do it again. He
balanced himself on his knees and rocked slowly back and forth, watching
his dad's eyes glaze over. Jim played with Jimmy's cock, holding it just
the way Jimmy liked and pushing him far out onto the edge of orgasm. After
seven years they both knew just how to do that, keeping the other one right
on the edge until it was time to shove him over and join in his
pleasure. This afternoon they held it back for a long time.

It was magnificent when they finally gave in to it.

Later, in the shower, Jim shook his head. Where'd you find all this stuff?
I haven't seen a trough urinal like that in years. Probably not since the
old 'Y'."

Jimmy threw a wash cloth at him. "My God, not only did you get to see your
dad naked, you got to stand next to him and watch him pee. I never got to
do that. Not until today anyway. And people wonder why I say I had a
deprived childhood."

"You want me to un-deprive you? Here." Jim stepped in front of him, held
his dick up and let fly with a hard, hot stream of urine, hitting Jimmy in
the pubic hair and then directing the stream slowly up and down the shaft
of his dick.

"Oh, Jesus." Jimmy's dick reared up and hardened, fast. Jimmy took hold of
it and began to stroke, so excited that it took only a moment before he
shot, his first white bullet hitting his dad just above the base of the
cock and then spattering out into his bush.

They stood as though frozen for a moment, each staring at what he had done
to the other and then, simultaneously, they began to laugh. They threw
their arms around each other and hugged and laughed. It was quite possibly
the best birthday Jim had ever had.

After dinner, sitting on the screen porch with birthday cake-two layers of
ice cream (coffee and chocolate) with butter cream frosting (vanilla mint)
since Jim hated real cake-and a very good champagne, Jim asked again. "I
really am curious; where'd you find that urinal?"

Jimmy smiled. "A friend put me on to it, guy in the real estate
business. That thing has a history, Dad, a real history. It's from the
men's room in the old Greyhound bus station in the city."

"You're kidding! The Greyhound bus station?"

"Yea. It took me weeks of scrubbing to get it clean and all the time I kept
thinking how many guys must have peed into it and how many of them maybe
jerked off into it. Can you imagine?"

Jim laughed. "No, I'm not sure I can imagine that many cocks. But it's a
great find, son, a great find. Who was it again who put you on to it?"

"His name's Doug. Doug Barber. He works over at Twentieth Century Real
Estate. He's a really nice guy and we ran into each other at a meeting one
time. We got to talking and I told him how I really thought one of those
old urinals would be great in the new bathroom. He called me a couple of
weeks later and said his company had the old bus station building in escrow
and, since the buyer was just going to tear it down, he'd gotten permission
to salvage the men's room fixtures. So there we were one night after work,
tearing urinals out of the bus station."

Jim laughed. "I knew there had to be a story. You just can't have something
like that without there being a story attached." He got up and went around
to his son's chair, kneeling beside it. "Thank you, Jimmy. With all my
heart."


-----------


The time gods stepped things up and the rest of the year passed very
quickly. For Jimmy it passed with some turmoil. Jim noticed that something
was wrong in November but let it go, waiting for Jimmy to talk about it in
his own time. It took until mid-February.

They were snuggled against each other in bed waiting for the wood stove
they'd installed two years earlier to warm up the room. Jimmy had been
restless all night and obviously hadn't slept well at all. Jim kissed him
on the nose and suggested coffee; his treat. That meant he'd run down to
the kitchen to turn on the pot and then wait, balls freezing, until it was
brewed and then bring it up in the thermos.

When Jim handed him a steaming mug of coffee Jimmy propped himself up
against his pillow and began talking. It wasn't a pretty story at all but
it wasn't an uncommon one, either. In fact, it was Mr. Caughlan all over
again.

Seven months earlier, when he'd been looking for financing for the bathroom
addition he'd been approached by one of his colleagues at the bank. The
man-Jimmy never did name him-had a deal. If Jimmy would direct certain
clients to a particular real estate brokerage firm, the firm would see to
it that Jimmy found his financing at a very favorable rate.

Jimmy had, of course, said no. His dad added the 'of course' part for Jimmy
had been sorely tempted. In the end his own bank came through with the
financing but at a much higher rate than his colleague had spoken of. Now
for the dilemma: the man had recruited one of Jimmy's employees, offered
him the same deal on a house and the man had taken it. Jimmy, of course,
was livid when he found out and fired the man on the spot. The man
threatened to sue for wrongful termination and Jimmy had had to tell the
whole story to the legal department. Someone there had leaked it and now
everyone saw Jimmy as a whistle blower and disloyal to the Real Estate
Division. Jimmy wanted to quit.

"I'm not sure you should do that," Jim said when the story was told. "If
you do, all your enemies will feel vindicated."

"I don't care. I'm uncomfortable and it's really miserable around the
office. I mean, my people all support me but it's those guys over in Loans
and Local Economics. They won't talk to me and if I walk into the coffee
room they all get up and leave. Damn it, I know I was right in firing Rod
and I know, sooner or later, this little scheme is going to fall apart but
I'm so damn miserable." The boy had tears in his eyes.

Jim set his coffee mug on the bedside table and looked his son squarely in
the eye. "Jimmy, this is your father speaking," he said very quietly. Jimmy
stiffened and his head snapped around; he'd never, since they'd agreed on
them years before, heard his father speak those words.

"Jimmy, you did the right thing and I can't tell you how proud I am of you;
I will support you in whatever you decide to do." They sat in silence for a
moment before Jim spoke again. "Jimmy, this is your lover speaking and I'm
just as proud of you as your dad is." That broke the dam and Jimmy cried
out all of his frustration and anger and fear. His dad held him in his arms
the whole time and when it subsided handed him a fresh cup of coffee.

"What will you do?"

Jimmy stared into space for a moment. "Go to work for Twentieth Century I
think. Doug has hinted several times that they'd take me on in an
instant. And from what I've seen they could use someone with my
experience." And that's exactly what happened. It took well into the spring
for all the details to be worked out but in April Jimmy found himself
working for Twentieth Century Real Estate, in the office next to Doug. They
started to become friends.

At the same time, Jim found himself taking on more and more
responsibilities for some of the largest projects the company had, even
some that should have been handled out of the Chicago main office. It was a
lot of work but he loved it. The fifteen hour days were pretty much a thing
of the past by now and that helped make it palatable. Besides, he had the
attention and respect of everyone at the top-from the board of directors to
the other Executive Vice Presidents. Things were going well and Jim was
enjoying a lot of status.


Comments, suggestions and criticisms gratefully accepted.
Greg
Jg.ps@gte.net