Date: Mon, 18 Jul 2011 18:17:38 -0700 (PDT)
From: jim ford <sojourn1950@yahoo.com>
Subject: TR's Tale Chapter Eight

On the way back to the house I told Bill all I knew about Jed. He didn't
say much. Seemed to be lost in thought. I asked what he thought about
Jed. He was as far away as I had been when they all laughed at me. Why
weren't we where Doc and David could at least see I wasn't the only one to
drift off. Bill didn't answer the first time so I just left him to his
thoughts.

By the time we got to Doc's drive Bill had seemingly recovered. What ever
had demanded his attention was apparently resolved. We joined Doc and David
still at the patio table. Both apologized for laughing at me. Once Doc
explained why, well even I thought it was funny. I couldn't remember what
had distracted me so.

The evening faded gently into night. Bill drank the last of the beer he had
been nursing, stood and said, "Tar, Doc I appreciate the dinner. I've had a
good time, but I have an early morning shift and I better get going. David,
in spite of everything, it was good seeing you again." Bill moved toward
the door and I stood to walk him out.

We didn't talk until he pulled on his jacket and zipped it up. "You know I
was serious about you staying the night."

He looked toward the door of the house and said, "I know and I would like
too, but like I said, I have an early shift and I need to get going. I do
appreciate the invite and I hope you'll ask me again sometime." He strapped
on his helmet, straddled his bike, started the engine and was gone. In
those couple of minutes between walking off the porch and his rumbling
exhaust fading into the night, I came to more fully understand the term
surreal. What the fuck had just happened?

Was I dumped? I almost laughed. I mean when he got here things seemed to be
going great and then...David showed up and I walked off and Jed was
insisting on a dinner date. In a daze I went back to join Doc and
David. They seemed to be enjoying each other's company. As I sat down they
both looked at me and their smiles faded.

Doc was the first to speak, "T. R., are you alright? Son, you look like you
just got kicked by a mule."

Something about getting kicked echoed in my head. I made a decision. I
turned to David and asked, "Do you know where Bill lives?" I think he
wanted to be embarrassed but he realized I was not asking in order to
condemn or berate him. He gave me directions. I told Doc not to wait up and
headed out to LBJ. I plugged the closest intersection to Bill's house into
my GPS and headed out. Bill lived four point seven miles away.

I began to think about why this was such a bad idea. I mean why? Why was I
chasing him? Why was I so bothered at being dumped? I don't know him well
enough to be hurt. It was more like I was pissed because he didn't offer me
a chance to agree or disagree. He just fucking dumped me. The more I
thought about it the more pissed off I became. By the time I got to his
street I was so pissed, I could bite nails. I counted three houses on the
right and turned into his drive.

I was surprised to see him on his bike still wearing his helmet. The engine
and headlights were off. He had enough of a head start to have showered and
been in bed. I was ready to drag his ass off the bike and give him a good
old fashioned ass kicking. Ok, well I was mad enough to try.

He had obviously seen my headlights plaster his shadow against his garage
door. He looked around and realized it was me. He took off his helmet and
stood beside his bike. He sat the helmet on his seat and took off his
jacket and waited.

As I walked up to him, I had to fight myself not to knock him on his
ass. It would have made things easier to be looking down at him and know
that I had his attention.

"What the fuck was that all about. If you wanted to dump me..." at this
point I pushed him backwards. "The least you could have done..." push. "Was
to grow a pair and say so." Both times I pushed he stumbled but regained
his footing.

I went to push him once more for good measure and he brushed my hands
aside, stepped in and swept my feet out from under me. He grabbed my shirt
and "guided" me to the grass. He followed me down and lay on top of me. My
hands trapped between our bodies. There was enough light to see those
perfect teeth shine through what my papa would have called a "shit eatin'
grin".

I'd like to tell you that I chose to lay under him, cool down and listen to
what he had to say...I wanted to hear him explain. When I quit struggling
and lay still he moved my hands until they were stretched above my head and
held in place by his hands.

Still with that grin he looked me in the eye and said, "I didn't dump
you. I was giving you some breathing room so you could decide if I'm the
guy you should be spending time with. I know I am, but you got to know it
too."

"Tar, it freaked me out when that asshole hit on you like I wasn't even
there. I wanted to drag his sorry ass out of that Land Rover and beat him
seven ways to Sunday. The bastard! I guess that, on top of David drooling
like you were an edible feast and he was starving. I don't know, I wondered
what you could see in me when you've got guys chasing you left and right."

"After showing my ass about us not being a one night stand, I felt like I'd
tied your hands and you didn't have the freedom to figure out if you wanted
David, or the bastard, or me. I left so you could have the time and space
to figure out who and what you wanted."

"Now, why are you here?" With that Bill twisted his head slightly and
leaned down and kissed me. It was soft, wet and warm. It was a kiss to make
me lose my place. I still was pissed... but it was nice. He broke the kiss
and spoke again, "Why did you follow me home?  He made the exact same
motion and kissed me again. Only this time it included a caressing
tongue. My lips parted and my tongue barely caressed his before he again
broke the kiss. "You're not the kind of guy who would want to be the center
of all this testosterone driven attention.  It ain't supposed to be the
cowboy chasing the cop." Another, longer, deeper kiss, "So, why are you
here, cowboy?"

This time I was ready I raised my head up to meet his lips and saw
stars. We had collided! He had twisted the opposite way I had
anticipated. Our heads butted hard. My head dropped back to the ground and
hit a small rock and I saw stars again. "Fuck!" When we bumped, Bill
released my hands and moved to get up. I brought my right hand down to
check my head as I raised it and managed to crack skulls with Bill; at the
same time my leg came up between his and contacted his balls.

When I sat up, Bill was in a fetal position clutching his groin and moaning
softly. I began to chuckle, and then laugh. I mean just earlier that day
the guy was thumping his balls himself and now he acts like he's about to
shit a cow. I stood up and laughed until he was recovered enough to
disparage one of my favorite activities. Why is "cocksucker" an insult when
having his cock sucked is, at some point, every man's goal?

I stood up and scolded him, "Well, it serves you right for dumping me like
that. You could have talked to me you know. Jesus, Joseph and Jesse, you
shut down and shut me out like I was a stranger you'd just met." I realized
that in fact we had pretty much just met.

Bill sat up. I offered my hand and when he took it, I pulled him to his
feet. Even as he stood he pulled me into his arms and kissed me. This one
could have been one of those in an old movie where they pan to the open
window with curtains undulating in a gusty breeze, except they would have
to find some visual or musical metaphor for a throbbing hard on...hmmm,
maybe Bolero! I could feel Bill had the same reaction.

He broke the kiss long enough to whisper in my ear, "Let's take this inside
the neighbors might want to call the cops or join in and I'm not eager to
share you with either option."

I must have nodded or given some sign of acquiescence because he was
guiding me toward his front porch. "Tar, I am so damn glad you're here, I
don't care what the reason is. Will you stay the night..." there was more
to what he said, it was just below a whisper and I didn't hear it.


His house was a small craftsman type bungalow. There were live plants on
the porch along with a porch swing. Somehow it occurred to me that most
homes in Texas probably have a porch swing. We entered a living room that
was at once masculine warm and cozy. The room was small but didn't feel
cramped. I saw a small dining room and an eat-in kitchen beyond. Where the
dining room and living room met a hallway led off to the right.

"Bill, this is nice."

He half grinned and said, "Thanks, I took a couple of design courses in
college. Bet you expected to wade through discarded clothes and pizza
boxes." I hoped my guilty blush didn't show up too clearly in this subdued
light.

He laid his helmet and jacket on the sofa, took me in his arms and scanned
my face. "God, you're a handsome man. I can't believe you're here."

He kissed me lightly on the lips and then led me down the hall. He pointed
out the bathroom as we passed. I followed him into a neatly appointed
bedroom. Somehow I expected a dungeon like atmosphere. There were no ropes,
slings, chains or whips. It was a comfortably masculine bedroom. The queen
size bed looked inviting. Bill began to undress me. I reciprocated. We
seemed to be in a mutual rush and wound up undressing ourselves.

Once naked, Bill led me to the bed and pulled down the covers. He lay down
and tugged on my arm to join him. I lay down facing him. I slid my arm
under his neck and pulled him to me. His eyes sparkled with hunger. I
kissed him. There was no smoldering, building passion.

This was all out no holds barred gonna cum soon no matter what happens. I
broke the kiss and sat up. I stroked the hair on his chest and tweaked his
nipples. I cooled down and was no longer on the brink of cumming. I took
his massive fun tool in my left hand and began to stroke it slowly while my
right hand brushed his nipples. His moans turned into guttural growls. He
slide around and tugged until we were in a sixty-nine position, with me on
top. I licked the precum that coated his glans and ran down the side of his
cock. I sucked and stroked while playing with his balls. Bill was raising
his head in order to take my cock into his throat. Once I realized the he
had no problem deep throating me I began to slide in balls deep and come
back out to let him breathe. He took control by pushing and pulling my
hips. He held my cock in his throat until his gag reflex kicked in. He
pushed bringing my cock out of his throat and mouth. He slicked up the
fingers on his left hand and took my cock back into his throat. He used his
swallowing muscles to massage my cock even as in slide in and out.

His spit-lubed fingers began to toy with my pucker. When he penetrated me I
came up off his cock. He had found an itch I didn't know I had. His finger
found my prostate and I tried to bury his cock in my throat. My ass rode
that digit like a carnival ride, twisting and undulating. When he added a
second finger I began working his cock in and out of my throat. I used
every skill I had to give to his cock what his mouth and fingers were
giving me. When he added a third finger, the itch he had found began to be
scratched. He worked those fingers like a concert pianist. Each time his
fingers pushed against my love nut, he would swallow my cock.

It was maddening. As I got closer and closer to my own end I began to focus
on his cock with a vengeance. I knew somehow his cock was connected to my
pleasure. I sucked up and down and stroked his cock while my left hand
tugged on his balls. My lips tightened the pull against his foreskin. My
tongue teased the sensitive frenum. I made sure to keep everything wet.

His fingers moving in and out and his throat milking my cock became too
much. I could feel my balls boiling, ready to flood his guts with my
load. His fingers in my ass made a connection with my cock in his throat
and I was gone.

My ass tried to bite off his fingers as I rammed my cock deep into his
gullet. Whatever I did or he did his cock tried to drown me with his
cum. His load was going down my throat and then his cockhead was unloading
in my mouth. I had to swallow or drown. In spite of my best efforts cum was
running out my nose and pooling around the base of his cock. We came close
to drowning each other.

Once I came I pulled my spit and cum slicked cock from his mouth. He gasped
for air and took some cum the wrong way. Bill leaped from the bed and
stepped quickly into the hall and to the bathroom.

I heard him gag and blow his nose. I could hear running water. I
listened. Everything seemed to be ok, so I waited for him to come
back. When he did he brought a warm wet washcloth and proceeded to gently
wash my face. At one point he put it against my nostrils and said, "Blow."
I did. He then used a towel to dry my face and wipe my cock clean. I said,
"Bill, no one has had me blow my nose since I was a child."

"Well, it was an act of self defense. I figure it might keep you from
snoring. Tar, you don't talk much about your folks. Do you miss them? If
they know about you, why didn't you just stay in your hometown?"

I couldn't resist teasing him, "Are you trying to get rid of me again?" His
response was to hit me in the face with a pillow. I grabbed the pillow and
stuck it beneath my head and got serious.

"Well, I came out to everyone just before I came here. So the smoke is
still settling. Most seemed to take it ok, my mom did great, I think she
may have guessed already. My Dad was real quiet about it. He hugged me real
tight and told me he loved me then spent the rest of the day by himself in
the barn. When I went out to call him to supper, I could see he'd been
crying. As we walked back up to the house he threw his arm across my
shoulder and told me he was proud of me. I guess things are going ok. I
called and told them about taking the job. So mom is going to forward my
mail. I reckon I will call like always about once a week. Living here, I
can go home for birthdays and holidays. As far as going back there to live,
I don't see that happening."Bill's eyes searched the room, as if he was
uncomfortable with my story.

Finally he nervously glanced at my face and said, "I'm not being a very
good host. You have been here almost a half hour and I haven't offered you
anything to eat, drink, smoke, or chew? Where are my manners? I told him I
was comfortable as I was. He excused himself and again headed down the
hall. Shortly he came back with two spoons and a pint of Ben and Jerry's
Chunky Monkey ice cream. We talked about family, college, high school, boy
scouts, music. Probably the biggest difference we had was that Bill liked
country music and I like oldies rock. The conversation was light and yet it
was the getting to know you better kind.

We had shared the ice cream until there was a single large chunk left. Bill
offered me some of the last. When my spoon touched the container he pulled
it away. With an evil grin he scooped up the remaining ice cream and took
it into his mouth. Taking my spoon, his spoon and the empty container, he
sat them on the nightstand. Then sliding around, he took my semi hard cock
in his mouth. I could feel the strangely cold yet almost burning sensation
travel the length of my cock. I steeled myself and refused to react. I
looked calmly into his eyes as if having cock frozen was an everyday
occurrence.

Bill proceeded to tease me by letting my glans press against the back of
his throat. Soon the ice cream had melted and Bill pulled off and asked,
"Want to put it someplace warmer?"