Seduction in Alabama
Copyright © 2010
By Lee Mariner
This is a true story depicting
homosexual acts between males. The names of the characters have
been changed, and the locations have been changed to prevent any
embarrassing comparisons.
If you are not of legal age in your locality to be reading this type
material or should you find the contents offensive, please leave.
This story is intended for the private enjoyment of its readers.
While readers may copy the story for their own private purposes,
they are requested to not reproduce, copy, archive or post it on any
other web side. The
Nifty Archives and its mirrors may post this story in accordance with
the Nifty requirements for posting of erotic materials.
Editing has been done by my friend, David, and for this, I am truly
grateful.
themariner@cox.com
Prologue
This story begins in July 1946, one month after my fourteenth birthday.
My parents had divorced when I was nine years old, and as part of the
conditions of their divorce, I was placed in my father's custody.
During the years
between their divorce and the ending of the war it was agreed that I
would
live with my mother during the months of June, July and August, and the
school months from September through May with my father. It was during
these
years that, I slowly and eventually learned that, I preferred men to
women.
Unfortunately, my experiences up until the time of this story had been
the
company of jerking off with school chums and one or two of the kids
that
lived in my neighborhood and some guys bragging about fantasy or actual
sexual conquest, we would never know. We all had seen the
pictures of men and
women having sex in some of the porn magazines that found there way
into
school
locker rooms, and all of us talked about sex, wondering what it would
be
like to fuck a woman. Most of my chums eventually did but, not me, I
was
more interested in what sex with another man would be like. I
wouldn't
learn until I was fifteen years old.
Chapter #1
I enjoyed the arrangement since it got me away, if only for a few short
months, from my stepmother whom my dad had married a few months after
the divorce. At Christmas time, I looked forward to the presents that
mother
sent, and on my birthday, she would send me several gifts. My birthday
was
in June; I would be sent to stay with her for the summer months after
school
was let out for the summer. She had sent several presents for my
fifteenth birthday but,
the real stunner hit me when she met me at the Greyhound bus station
with
a man unknown to me. During the winter while I was staying with
Dad,
she had married Arthur Quillen, an ex-Army major whom she had met
during
the war while she was working as a cocktail waitress.
Arthur was not a handsome man as someone thinks of being handsome. His
face was plain and seldom showed any emotions. He had the stoical look
of a man with both feet solidly on the ground and, as I later learned,
he brooked no nonsense. In short, he only spoke when he needed
to, and he was a
stern disciplinarian. I was not very fond of him but, for my mothers
sake, I maintained the pretense that I did.
That summer we lived in Mother's apartment. I wasn't very happy with
the arrangements since Arthur took up most of Mother's time, leaving
very little for me. When I was sent home, life was pretty much as
usual. Christmas arrived and went, there would be presents for my
fifteenth birthday and then a couple of weeks later, I would be on the
bus to stay with Mother. What I did not know was that my parents had
negotiated the transfer of my custody to Mother, and along with her
re-marrying, we were going to relocate to a small Alabama town that was
not very far from the Florida state line.
The train trip was exciting and, I conjured fantasies about what life
in Alabama would be like. My fantasies came crashing down when we
arrived in a town that looked as if it had stepped out of the pages of
Erskine Caldwell's novel, Tobacco Road. The town's main street
was concrete but the sidewalks were made of wooden boards like
those seen in old west movies, and they were elevated. Building
roofs extended to the edge of the
sidewalks and were supported by four by four wooden posts. There
were
several stores that would normally be found in a country town. There
was
one restaurant, two restaurant bar and grill's, a grain and feed store,
grocery
stores at either end of the street, a plumbing and air-conditioning
store
and next to it the Quillen Electrical Supplies store. Typical of a
sleepy
southern town with wooden benches in front of each store and, occupied
by various town residents.
On the outskirts of the town were four huge warehouses strategically
placed on either side of the railroad tracks. On the roof of each
warehouse there was a sign built on wooded stilts that loudly
proclaimed them as being the Alabama Cooperative Cotton Growers
Association. I later learned that each warehouse had it's own
cotton gin, and after the cotton was processed it was pressed into five
hundred pound bales stored within the warehouse until shipment. As it
had been in the years gone by, King Cotton still reigned supreme.
There was a small train depot a few yards from the cotton warehouses,
and there was an unpaved dirt road leading from the main highway past
the
warehouses to the depot. The dusty roadway continued past the depot to
several
ramshackle wooden houses that were not particularly impressive or
arranged
in any particular fashion. These, I later learned, were the homes of
the field workers. I
was engrossed in looking out the passenger car windows when I heard
Arthur's
gruff voice; "were here, Devon."
"Yes, Sir," I answered in an automatic tone of voice while thinking,
'yeah, we sure are.'
Removing my two suitcases from the overhead rack, I fell in behind my
mother who looked over her shoulder and asked, "Have you forgotten
anything, Devon?"
"No, ma'am," I answered.
As if not believing me, she checked where we had been sitting before
moving to the top of the iron stairs that descended to the wooden
platform of the depot. When I stepped down from the passenger
car, I saw Arthur being hugged by an older man whom I figured was his
father. After Arthur introduced him to my mother, he gave her a hug and
kissed her on the cheek. He gave me a quick cursory glance of
indifference as he turned toward Arthur and asked, "How was the trip?"
I was standing just behind mother as Arthur was speaking to his father
when suddenly reaching behind her and grasping my shoulder, he pulled
me forward. Mother interrupted what Arthur was going to say by saying,
"Mr. Quillen, this is my son, Devon."
Standing stiffly, I endured a look of disbelief as he looked at me,
mother and Arthur before asking in a tone of surprise, "That's your
boy? Arthur, you didn't say anything about your wife having a boy."
"Well," Arthur drawled, "I wouldn't say he is a boy, Dad, Devon is
fifteen years old and right sturdy to be called a boy," Arthur
answered, glancing at my mother before continuing. "I was so involved
in telling you as much as I could about Eunice that, I sort of
overlooked mentioning Devon."
'That's a pretty big oversight.' I thought to myself as Mr.Quillen gave
me a closer look.
Glancing at mother, he smiled as he said, "He's a right sturdy looking
young man, Misses."
I was peeved enough at that point that I was on the verge of verbally
defending myself when Mr. Quillen suddenly extended his hand. Gripping
mine, he said, "Welcome to Alabama, young fella."
I was flabbergasted by the sudden change in his demeanor but, I managed
to stammer, "Thank you, Sir."
"you're welcome," he replied, going on and
saying, "Elmer the depot
manager will send your luggage to the house Arthur, Mother has been
fretting ever since you called that you'all were coming home."
"How is mother doing, Dad?" Arthur asked as the three of them walked
toward a large black dust covered ninteen-thirty-nine, four-door Buick
with me bringing up the rear, struggling with my two suitcases.
"Your, Mother is doing tolerable well, Son, tolerable well." Mr.
Quillen answered in a subdued tone. "The doctors tend to her nigh about
daily and, she did brighten considerable when I told her you would be
coming home."
"I'm anxious to see her," Arthur said as his father opened the car's
trunk compartment.
Mr. Quillen took my two suitcases and placed them inside the car's
large luggage compartment. Glancing at his son as he growled, "I reckon
you
should be after all the years you've been away."
"The war had something to do with that, Dad."
"I reckon that might be true but, a note every now and then wouldn't
have hurt none," Mr. Quillen grunted as he started the car.
There was very little conversation other than an occasional remark
about someone having passed away or the crop wasn't looking to good
until Mr. Quillen suddenly, without warning, said, "I'll take you by
the store, and you can get one of the pickup trucks to use until you
make up your mind about whether you'll be buying a new car or one
that's been used. Personally, I'd be buying one of the new ones instead
of something made before the war."
I was sitting in the front seat beside Mr. Quillen, and for several
seconds the interior of the car was pregnant with silence from the
economical comments concerning a new or used vehicle plus the lack of
in-depth information concerning Arthur's mother. Air-conditioning in
automobiles was not ever thought of
in those days, and the interior was stifling. To avoid the dust
getting inside the passenger compartment, the windows were cracked only
an inch
or two for ventilation. I could feel sweat running down my back and
down over my rips from
my arm pits as well as another stream running down between the ridges
of abdominal muscles.. The cracked
leather of the cars seats felt like it was stuck to my under thighs,
and
the sweat flowing into my crotch made it even more uncomfortable.
I
had an intense urge to rearrange my cock and balls but out of fear of
being
seen by Mr. Quillen, I suffered hoping the others felt as uncomfortable
as
I was.
After we stopped at the Quillen Electrical Store and Arthur picked out
the better of the three pickup trucks that serviced the store, we
transferred the luggage and drove out of town to the old Steven's Farm
where we would be living. Mr. Quillen owned
the farm and tilled the land but, we would be living in the farm house.
The house and nearby barn were old but
sturdy looking. The clapboard siding of the house and the barn
had not been painted in who knows
how many years and there was no grass to been seen. Two large
cottonwood
trees were in the front and a fig tree in the back. Several feet
away
from the house to the rear of the property, there was a
small building with several bushes surrounding it. What iT was was
unmistakable, I had seen such a building
on my grandfather's farm in Kentucky, the out house.
When I saw it, I assumed that there was no running water in the
house
and, I was right. Water was supplied by an indoor hand pump at
the
kitchen sink. With the exception of brushing our teeth, and
washing
our hands and face at the kitchen sink; full body bathing would
be
done outside in a large galvanized wash tub. I wasn't really
concerned
about bathing in a tub but, I was concerned about my mother. She
must
have complained about the conditions to Arthur but if she had, nothing
was
done while I lived there.
It didn't take long for us to be settled into the farm house. Mom
and Arthur bought a new kitchen table with chairs for the kitchen, a
small
four drawer chest for their bedroom and mine in addition to accessories
and
curtains.
For the first week while Arthur worked at the store, I helped Mom clean
and arrange the farm house. She had a knack for making a dump
look
like paradise. The worst part about living in the country among
acres
and acres of cotton fields was the loneliness. Arthur had the use
of
one of the stores pickup trucks and we were stuck without
transportation.
Mom asked for a car, and Arthur bought her a nineteen thirty nine
Chevrolet
sedan. New cars were slowly coming on the market but they were
more
than we could afford. Used cars hadn't been driven that much
during
the war, and ours was in pretty good shape.
After Arthur left for work, we would clean the house before Mother and
I drove to the store. She would help in the stores office, and I
was a
sort of all-round errand boy. There was another boy working in the
store,
his name was Travis. He worked in the back of the store and in the
large detached
storage building behind the store. Travis was maybe three or four
years
older than me. He had smooth, good looking Nordic features, and a
well-built
muscular body. He might have weighed about one-hundred sixty pounds
and,
he was only a head taller than me. He had thick blond, flaxen
hair
and, intense blue eyes that seemed to twinkle when he looked at me. I
had
never seen a blue that matched the blue of his eyes except for pictures
of
huge blue iced glaciers that were in the National Geographic Magazines.
It was the second day after I had started working in the store that
Travis
was in mother's office talking with her, and she introduced us. We
shook
hands and, I was so nervous that my legs felt like rubber. He grinned
broadly
as we shook, and said, "It's good meeting you, Devon."
"Me too," I croaked.
I felt very uncomfortable, and Travis must have sensed it. He
gave
my hand an extra firm squeeze, and releasing my hand, he winked as he
turned
back to my mother saying, "Young Mr. Quillen asked me to tell you that
he
wants the order for the replacement GE Hot Water Heater to go out by
express
mail."
"Tell Mr. Quillen that, Ill be sure it does, Travis," Mother said in
her
soft voice.
"Yes, ma'am," Travis responded, and looking at me as he turned to
leave,
said, "If you need any help, Dev, I'm usually in the back."
"Huh, oh yeah, thanks," I stuttered, trying to gather my dumbstruck
wits.
I couldn't help staring after Travis as he walked away and disappeared
through
the doors leading to the back work room. My hand still tingled
from
where we had shook hands and, I could feel the heat rising in my groin
as
my cock started to swell. I was so intent on Travis, I didn't
even
hear mother until, tapping my shoulder she said, sharply, "Devon, put
you cap
on, and take this to the post office. Be sure you tell Mr. Evers that
it
is to go out by express mail, and don't forget the post office
receipt."
I felt hot all over my body, and I was sure she could not have helped
seeing my blazing red cheeks as I answered, "Wha...oh, yes,
Mother,
I will."
For several days after meeting Travis, my cock would get hard just
thinking
about him and wondering what he would look like naked. The first time
we
met, I was so stricken with how good looking he was that, I didn't get
a
chance to check out his crotch. We would see each other during the day,
and
he would wave and smile or call out "Hey, Dev. how you doing?"
My answer was usually a squeaky "Okay." He would grin, and then
return
to what he was doing.
I was still a virgin, and not really sure about how to approach someone
who
made me feel like so nervous or get as excited as I did every time we
spoke. Meeting kids in school was totally different than approaching
someone that excited me as much as Travis did. Unfortunately,
that
was one of the big reasons that I was still a virgin. I was
afraid to try speaking to someone
out of fear of being ridiculed or even hurt physically. Arthur
solved the
problem a few days later while we were at supper.
We were eating quietly when, Arthur, looked at Mother and said, "If you
don't need Devon for anything tomorrow, Eunice, I want to take him with
me. I've got a pretty big job down in Edisto just over the
state line and, I'll be needing his help along with Travis."
"There is nothing that important that has to be done, Arthur," Mother
replied softly. "I can handle what there is to do. Besides, he is
fifteen, and it will do him good to get out of the store for a little
while instead of hanging around with little for him to do."
I was hardly able to contain my excitement when, I heard Arthur say he
needed me to help him and Travis. Just getting away from the
store was break enough but to be working with Travis was really cool.
I was engrossed in thinking about what it would be like and what
might happen, and my cock was hard as steel when his sharp voice
penetrated the fog of fantasy. "Devon, do you think you can be ready to
leave at five o'clock in the morning?"
"Yes, Sir," I replied quickly, blanking off the erotic thoughts that
had filled my head."
"That is leaving at five o'clock, Devon, not getting up at five
o'clock."
"Yes, Sir, I understand," I replied. "I'll be ready when you are."
"See that you are," he said, glancing at me sharply.
On the following day Arthur and mother were up before dawn. After
calling me to be sure
that I was up, Mother prepared our breakfast. After eating, I was
impatient to leave. When we arrived at the
store, Travis was waiting at the front door. Arthur pulled up to where
he was standing, he put the truck into neutral and jumped out saying,
"Travis, drive the truck around to the back while I open
the doors."
"Yes, Sir," he replied looking in the cab and seeing me."Morning, Dev,
are you going with us?" He asked as he jumped into the front seat.
I could feel a twinge of anticipation in my groin, and I
prayed for my cock not to get hard out of fear of being
embarrassed.
"I reckon so, Travis, Arthur said something about you and him needing
me for
this job."
"He might be right, Dev, we've go some heavy lifting to do but from the
looks
of you, I don't think we'll have much trouble," he said, slapping my
inner
thigh and squeezing the soft flesh before running his hand down to my
knee.
My breathing reacted automatically, and I inhaled deeply almost gasping
when
he touched me. I felt my cock swelling, and a tingling feeling
spreading
over my body. For a moment, I was in a quandary as how I should react
to
such an overt action; but, instead of reacting physically even though I
wanted
to, I hesitated and said, "I lifted hay bales and helped my grandfather
on
his farm."
"From the looks of your build, I can see you did, and I'll bet you did
more then that," he replied, winking at me as he backed up
to the stores loading platform where Arthur was waiting.
I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, and I averted my eyes and
mumbled,
"I might have, and you probably did it on your dad's farm."
"Maybe, I did...more than once," he said, grinning and winking at me as
he got out of
the truck.
It didn't take very long to load the pickup truck with the new items
that
we were to install. Arthur was in the back of the truck waiting for
Travis
and me to bring each piece to him, and then he would situate where it
would
ride the best. When we were lifting the hotwater-heater from the
two-wheeled
dolly, I could see Travis's bicep muscles bulging from the strain and,
I glanced at mine
to see if they compared with his...they did, and a feeling of pride
swept
over me as we worked together. While Arthur and Travis were
loading the tools they would be using,
I was instructed to tie the load down. My boy scout training came
in
handy while doing this, and I blessed my scoutmaster for not letting me
get
away with being sloppy. When we were ready to go, I noticed my
step-father
checking the knots that I had used and when Travis looked at me and
winked, I felt good on the inside when Arthur didn't have anything to
complain about.
The trip to Edisto was not that long and, I was stuck in the middle.
Fortunately,
I could cover my crotch with my hands so my hardon was not visible.
Travis
had his arm across the back of the seat, and his elbow out the open
window
on his right. If Arthur hadn't been on my left, I wouldn't have minded
the feel of Travis's hard thigh rubbing against mine or the pressure of
his forearm
on the back of my neck. The pressure of his leg against mine seemed, at
least
to me, to be more than just the casual touching that would be normal
for
two people sitting as close to each other as we were. Occasionally he
would glance at me and wink while scratching the top of my shoulder
with his fingers. I wasn't an expert on how men interacted but, I would
have sworn scratching my shoulder and rubbing his leg against mine was
on purpose and, I have to admit it felt good.
The ride was really not that uncomfortable but, I was glad when we did
reach
Edisto and then the customer's home.
The house was two-stories with a covered porch. There were four
windows
with a wide wooden door in-between them on the first floor. The second
floor
had five windows, and they were aligned with the first-floor windows
and door so that they matched. The roof was gray slate and the
outside had at one time been painted
in what must have been a coat of white paint with green paint
on the window shutters and trim.
There was no lawn to speak of, just several pine trees and a very
narrow
strip of weed filled sand between the fence and the house. Except for a
forsythia vine, the one time wooden
picket fence that had been built on three sides of the house would more
then
likely have fallen.
I saw a short sort of roundish man
standing
on the front porch when Arthur pulled off the road onto an oyster shell
covered driveway.
He stepped off of the porch and walked to the truck as we were
getting
out. After Travis got out, I followed, standing with one hand holding
the door while Travis was leaning against the truck bed. We were
looking at the man walking toward us.
He was wearing a dirty white shirt, and broad black suspenders that
held
up dirty white trousers. He was unshaven and except for a thin
fringe of head hair, he was totally bald. His pants were pulled up so
tight
in his crotch that there was a small, hardly what could have been
called large, bulge visible on the left side of his crotch. He
was wearing scruffed up black high-up shoes with
no visible socks.
I was transfixed with what I saw and, amazed that someone could let
themselves
be so dirty and ungroomed. I couldn't help but wonder what the woman of
the
house or for that matter, the interior of the house might look like.
"Jesus," I thought out loud not realizing
that Travis had moved closer beside me. "He is the crudest person
I've ever seen."
"You can say that again, Kid. I wonder when he last took a bath,"
Travis said softly,
his hot breath flowing over my ear. "I sure wouldn't want to sleep with
him washed or unwashed."
When I heard him, I turned, and our noses were barely millimeters
apart. Pulling my head back, I stammered, "What?"
"You know, Dev, sex," he said softly, his brilliant blue eyes
twinkling. "I damn sure wouldn't want to be in bed having
sex with him. Jesus, I bet it stinks when his old lady opens her legs,
and
his cock is probably just as rotten as her cunt." He whispered as
he squeezed the cheek of my ass and patted it as he turned to follow my
step-father.
Arthur, shook hands with the dirty rotund man, and while they were
talking,
Travis stood a few feet in back of Arthur. I was still standing by the
pickup truck
when a large extremely fat lady emerged from the wide front door.
I
couldn't help but think that the door was just wide enough for her.
She
waddled up to where Arthur and the customer were talking, and Travis
turned
looking over his shoulder at me and grinning like a cheshire cat.
I returned
his grin, thinking we were probably thinking the same thing when he
groped his crotch and mouthed words that looking like he was saying,
"Oh shit." . If he had been doing white
face in a play, he couldn't have done better in expressing in mime what
he we both were thinking.
Arthur and the rotund man shook hands, and turning away, he moved to
where
I was waiting, with Travis following. When they had almost
reached
where I was, I let my eyes fall to where Travis had groped his cock,
and
while it wasn't huge, there was the faint outline of his cock extending
down
his left pant leg, and I felt my cock surge slightly. When I
looked
up, I was a twinkle in his eyes and he grinned and winked.
"Well now," Arthur said. "We
got
a break, Mr. and Mrs. Burlington were hoping we would be early, they
have
to go into town on some business that will take up most of their day.
I
assured them that wouldn't be a problem since I had already drawn up
the
plans that we would need to make the installations and re-wiring."
"Re-wiring, Mr. Quillen?" Travis asked, looking a little confused.
"Yeah, we've got to remove the old wiring and replace it with a higher
gauge
since the dryer and hot-water heater we are installing take a 220
current.
The washing machine is on 110 but that's no problem. I tried to
talk
Burlington into upgrading to 220 and install circuit breakers but, he
used
the same excuse lots of people use, they like fuses."
"Let the house burn down, and they will wish they did upgrade," Travis
grumbled
good-naturedly.
"That's their problem son, not ours...so, Devon you stick with Travis,
and
lets get to work."
It only took the unloading of the water-heater and the other machines,
and
Travis and I knew it was going to be a hot day. We had brought a
dolly
with us to help with the unloading but, the sandy ground made it almost
impossible
to use. The wheels even though balloon tires would sink into the sand,
and
pulling and pushing was worse than carrying them. By the time we got
them to where they would be installed, a blazing sun was high in an
almost
clear blue sky and sweat was pouring off of both of us. My
pullover shirt and the top of my pants were soaked with
the sweat running down my back, ribs and chest.I felt it running down
the crack of my
ass, and from my armpit over my ribs. Travis was in the same condition,
his
golden blond hair was darkened by sweat, and his pullover and pants
were
just as soaked as mine.
While Travis and I were unloading the truck, Arthur had crawled under
the house, and we could hear him cursing about floor
spacers and not enough room for conduit piping or any number of things.
Travis was breaking down the cardboard boxes and wrapping, and I
was stacking
it in the back of the truck to be taken back with us when we heard
Arthur
shout, "Jesus Christ, Travis, come here."
"What's the matter, Mr. Quillen," he called out as we went to where
Arthur
was standing, shaking his head.
"What's the matter you ask," he growled almost menacingly. "Was the
carton
damaged when you removed it from the dryer?"
"No, Sir, I don't think it was, in fact, I'm sure it was not."
"It had to be, Travis or the corner of the dryer wouldn't be damaged."
Travis and I both looked where Arthur was pointing, and there was
damage
where he indicated. Travis looked at me, and then said, "I'm sorry,
Sir,
I didn't see it."
"How about you, Devon, didn't you see the damage?"
"No, Sir, I didn't, and if you check the cartons, I bet none of them
are
damaged," I said, anger rising in the tone of my voice at the both of
us
being unjustly accused.
For a moment, Arthur's eyes blazed, and I braced myself for the rage
that
would follow. In the past he had gotten angry whenever I had
bucked
his authority and I was sure he was going to accuse me of what he
considered to be
impudence. He surprised me when inhaling and exhaling explosively, he
exclaimed, "Aw shit,
what's the difference, we have to replace it with another from the
warehouse."
Travis looked at me before very tentatively, he said, "It could have
been
hidden shipper damage, Mr. Quillen. We have received dryers and
washers
like that in the past. The manufacturer will damage an item while it's
in
production, and rather then repair it they bolt it to a wooden skid and
then
cover it with an undamaged carton."
We saw that Arthur was thinking, and glancing at each other we moved
into
the shade of the porch. After a few minutes, Arthur said, "you're
probably
right, Travis. I'll have to check with Dad, and see where we stand
with General Electric. In the meantime, you and Devon will have to take
the damaged one
back to the store and exchange it for a new one. Be sure and take the
carton
off
to make sure it's not damaged, and then wrap it in the furniture
blankets that we
use for refrigerators and be sure it is tied tightly for the trip
back.."
"Do you want us to go now or help you with the wiring first?" Travis
asked.
"Hmmmm," Arthur said as he drank a large cup of the ice water we had
brought
with us. "I hadn't thought of that, Travis. I tell you what, you guys
can
help me run the cable from the outside panel to the inside fuse box.
You
can hookup it up to the outside electrical panel and then slide it
under the house to me. I can feed it through the floor spacers and up
through the floor conduit piping to Devon and he can pull it into the
pantry closet in the kitchen.
After that is done, I can install the fuse box and finish most of
the wiring while you two are gone."
In his usual exuberant self, Travis said, "Hey, that sounds like a plan
to me."
After finishing and double checking the two-twenty wiring, Travis and I
loaded the damaged dryer into the back of the truck and tied it
down. We checked with Arthur to see if there was anything else
that might be needed. He admonished us to be careful and check
the new dryer closely.
Leaving his lunch with him, we started the return trip to the
warehouse.
TBC