Tag: fears

8Mar

The Locker – Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Saturday

8:21 p.m.

Dinner had been strange; different in a way he just couldn’t put his finger on. Every time he’d look over at Dakota he got this feeling that everyone else at the table was noticing and then like the perfect dufus he had to have a choking spell, that sure was a hit with Dakota’s mom who seemed so distant, so strange really. He couldn’t quite say why, but he was sure she kept looking at him as if to see if he was good enough for her son and yet at other times it was like she was feeling angry with him, upset that he was even sitting at their table.

It certainly wasn’t a dinner like he was used to. At his place his folks would talk, laugh, tell and ask things of him and each other, sort of like they were catching up or something, but Dakota’s folks seemed different. It was more like they were only there to fuel up, not to check up or anything. It was kind of weird for him and even Arizona was quiet which he didn’t think was possible and yet, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it but it didn’t just seem because he was there, that somehow this was normal for them.

Noah had tried to offer to help with the dishes but both Arizona and Rosalie, Dakota’s mother, refused his offer quickly. In fact he sort of felt like she really didn’t even want him there and he noticed a strange glance between her and Dakota as well which only made him feel more out of place. He really didn’t understand it but somehow it didn’t seem to matter much, as each time he would steal a glance at Dakota he would feel the strange glow in his body flare up. It was like he wanted to just reach across the table and grab Dakota and kiss him, and he could feel the desire inside, feel it burning into his body with each stolen look, each covert glance.

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13Dec

The Locker – Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Saturday

8:14 a.m.

Noah stared at his reflection in the mirror, knowing it was useless, the damn zit was still there despite the scrubbing and the constant application of that stupid zit cream stuff he used. He saw his eyes narrow as he stared at himself, wondering if he wasn’t being stupid, after all he was only 16 and you were supposed to have zits, just that why now? Couldn’t it have waited till next week to pop up? Christ Dakota wouldn’t want to kiss a face that had zits would he, but then he had barely had time to talk with him ever since he had shown up that night.

They had talked briefly since that night, and he wondered, staring at the mirror, if maybe he had been wrong, maybe he had only thought he had seen what he had seen or maybe Dakota had changed his mind? Maybe he had decided it wasn’t worth the risk but then he would have cancelled today, wouldn’t he? His head shook and he saw the fear in his own eyes, the fear that he had already failed to measure up to what Dakota had expected, but then, maybe he was just being stupid? Maybe he was just too nervous, expecting too much and maybe that was scaring Dakota off too? It could be, after all Dakota was, well, he was hot and he, Noah, wasn’t, so why should he be interested?

Christ he was feeling weird, his palms were sweating and he wasn’t going to meet Dakota till 4, and he leaned back on the wall, staring at his face, staring at the zit and way his face looked so ordinary. He sighed, knowing that it wasn’t Dakota’s fault they hadn’t had time together, after all he did have an image to keep up and Noah understood that. Last thing he wanted was for anyone to suspect anything about them, even if they already suspected him, he couldn’t let them get wise to Dakota. It was bad enough that some thought he was queer, Christ it would be impossible if they knew for sure.

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3Sep

Remembering (Epilogue)

Remembering

By Ian Kovnats (Gaystoryman)

Copyright © 2008 ? All Rights Reserved

Epilogue

Trent stared out the big bay window of the front room. He could see the horizon, see the orchard fields below. He sighed, as he felt the warm air blowing into the room from the opened front door. He turned his face, to look at the front stoop, to see the man slowly making his way down the ramp, towards the front roadway.

He felt a small twinge in his heart, as he saw how he moved so slowly, the pain of his injuries showing across his face, as he began to make his way towards the front gate. The mail sign was up, and there was no denying him. For several days now, Rob had made this journey, accepting the pain it gave him, refusing to let Trent go.

It was his choice, his decision and Trent wasn’t about to argue. He could see the determination on his friends face, knowing how much it cost him, knowing too that even now, several years after his injuries in Iraq, the pain was never gone. Well that wasn’t entirely true, least in his mind.

There were moments when it seemed like Rob had no pain, nor did he either. He had suffered no injuries, no scars covered his body as they did Rob’s, though his scars were within. He still could hear the General’s words, the scathing remarks, and his own equally harsh retorts.

It was a long time back now, but they still hurt. Yet, one day soon, he knew he’d let them go, forget them as they deserved to be forgotten, but not just yet. He may have aged in years, but in looks he had seemed to just get younger. He kept blaming Rob for that, because they were finally together, finally accepting of the love that they shared.

Moving to this valley had been hard, had cost him every penny he had saved, begged, or borrowed, but then too, Rob had done the same. Yet for him it had been hard, because Rob needed so much, even though he rarely asked for anything. Then that was Rob, he never did complain, and so they had bought this small little orchard in California.

He had expected some troubles, specially if the neighbouring people found out about him and Rob, which they were bound to do. After all, his Court Martial wasn’t exactly a well kept secret. Nor was Rob’s either, which had really hit the wires like a ton of bricks. It was bigger than if the Titanic had been sunk, all over again.

Still he had been surprised by how welcomed he & Rob had been. Oh there were a couple who grumbled, and who would never have him or Rob on their guest list, but then again, he wouldn’t have them on his. For the most part, the folks in the valley accepted them both, and while it had been a bit strained at the start, things had gotten a lot easier over the few years they had lived there.

Many had watched at how determined Rob had been. He didn’t act like any cripple they had ever seen, and while no one expected much, they soon came to realize that Rob was a force to reckon with. While the Doctors had said he’d never walk again, that the rest of his life would be confined to a wheelchair, Rob didn’t accept it.

And there he was, outside on his own two feet. Granted, he wouldn’t win any marathons, but he was lurching ahead, on his own. No wheelchair was in sight, just a pair of canes now. The crutches had disappeared six months ago, and Rob had vowed that the canes too would disappear. Trent believed him too, even if the Doctors were still a bit sceptical. But then, they didn’t understand the man, or his character.

Trent was just realizing it, himself, as he watched his friend slowly making his way down the hill, towards the gate. The small red flag of the mailbox up, showing they had mail. Rob was certain that today it would be there, that this was the day.

He smiled, realizing that he too was just as anxious. It was rather special, and frankly, he never thought he’d see this day come. Certainly not as a teenager, nor even after he had his first sexual experience, back on his eighteenth birthday, had he ever thought this day would come.

Looking back on his life, on his time both with and away, from Rob, he had to admit. The sex had been something else, specially that first time, but in all honesty, the sex lately, had been more than just a release. He couldn’t really explain it, it wasn’t like they had a lot of options either.

Rob had come back damaged, yet despite all that, the sex seemed to be as good, if not more enjoyable. Sure, they were limited, at first, and Rob liked to joke that it was the sex that was making him push himself, so that he could really get off. Course, Trent knew that each time they became physical, it was a hard choice for Rob. The pain, in moving, was real. It was a constant reminder of his service in Iraq, a constant reminder of his personal sacrifice.

Just trying to move his legs at times, to spread them apart, caused him pain. Certainly at the beginning of their living together, yet Rob never complained. In fact, he kept instigating it, wanting it, even though he had to have felt more pain than pleasure. Still, that was Rob, and who was he, to deny him that?

They had talked about it, even with the Doctors. That was a discussion he wouldn’t forget. Looking out at Rob now, he remembered how he had been sitting with the Specialist, when Rob out of the blue asked him when it would be okay for him to have anal sex. He had almost fallen off his chair, and the look on the Doctor’s face was priceless.

Still Rob hadn’t let him off the hook, despite his unwillingness to get into the details. Rob on the other hand, well he wanted to know if certain positions would cause harm, to his recovery. The Doctor was as white as a ghost, and given that he was an African American, that was one hell of a feat. Still, Rob had persisted, and when he got his answer that in all honesty the Doctor couldn’t say that it would cause any added damage, Rob had simply turned to Trent, and smiled.

Course he had also blurted out that Trent could pick up the Condoms on the way home, which had made him have a pretty bad coughing fit. The Doctor on the other hand, had glanced away, but you could see his own surprise.

Then that too, was Rob. As he had said afterwards, why should he feel ashamed of how he liked sex? It was a natural physical function, and as long as he wasn’t going to cause any more damage to his already damaged body, he was damned if he would pass on trying. Plus, as he pointed out, he had some new memories to try and make, which had ended any objections Trent had.

Thinking now of it, of coming back to their small little apartment, at that time. He was rather amazed at just how good of a memory that first time had been. Maybe it had been all the talk, the touching to position Rob, but he had to admit, it had been a memorable night of passion. One that certainly had rivalled their first experiences, when they had been eighteen, out camping.

Staring at his friend now, he realized just how special their moments had become. It was those earlier memories, that had brought them together, had brought them to this very point in their lives. Sex for him, had always been more of a physical thing. Least when it had involved other men, not Rob. Yet those times with Rob, before now, before his war wounds, had always been more than just a physical release. Course he hadn’t seen it that way, then. He sure as hell did now, as a smile crossed his weathered face.

Being an Officer, being in charge of other people’s lives, had taken its toll on him, but the news of his friends wounds, had sent him over the top. He had known, virtually the instant he had heard, that he couldn’t do it anymore, that he couldn’t handle that kind of responsibility. He also didn’t know how he’d handle life, if Rob wasn’t somehow a part of it.

Fortunately the Doctors then, had been wrong, and it seemed since too. Rob had made progress, but the physical act of sex, was vastly different. Trent realized that despite his advanced years, he looked forward to their intimate moments. He yearned for them too, like the time when Rob had been hospitalized, for complications.

God, how he had imagined the worse. How he had thought that somehow their sex had been the cause of it all, though it hadn’t been. Still it hadn’t prevented him from thinking of it, from vowing he would not press it. Yet, seeing Rob in that bed, again, had made him realize just how connected they had become.

That first hospital night, when he was still running a high fever, and under some powerful sedatives, how he had looked up at Trent, winked, and asked him to rub his itch. Trent had almost split a gut, because he knew exactly what itch Rob had wanted scratched. The guy was more of a sex pig, than he had ever thought one man could be.

What had made it so funny, was that the male orderly was in the room, and offered to scratch whatever was irritating Rob. Fact that he was rather cute, and had been the subject of an early discussion on how Rob wouldn’t mind a nice sponge bath from him, only added to the moment. And in typical Rob fashion, he had merely looked at the orderly, and told him that only his hubby could scratch that particular itch.

The guy’s face had been a study in changing seasons. From concern, to consternation, to sudden realization, to embarrassment. He was a nice guy, but you could see how his face dropped when it dawned on him exactly what Rob had been asking for. He had stared at him, then over at Trent, his lips quivering, his eyes fluttering, as he tried to figure out what to say, if anything.

He opted for nothing, and quickly left the room, with Rob trying to lift himself up, to stare at his butt as he swished out of the room. It was those moments, that really made what they had special. While Rob’s mouth was certainly getting them more notoriety than Trent was comfortable with, it really didn’t matter at the end of the day.

When they would lay together, side by side, and Trent would have to undress Rob. How they would talk about the day, about those little moments when the straight world had been turned upside down by a crippled queer. How he enjoyed his moments of watching their faces, at how their mouths would tremble, trying to say something, without being offensive.

At the very beginning, after Rob had been evacuated to Germany, for better care, Trent had thought it was simply his way of getting back. He had been surprised at how often Rob would let people know about who he was, about his homosexuality. It bothered him, because while the cat was out of the bag for him, too, he didn’t think it right to flaunt it.

Yet when he had casually mentioned it to Rob, it was what had set off their first real disagreement. Hell, it had been a knock em out, drag em down, battle royal actually. Oh, he could smile now, but back then, he didn’t see any humor in it. He had even wondered why he had thrown his whole military career away, on someone like Rob, but finally the shouting grew to a distant roar, and he began to actually listen to the words.

That discussion had been one for the books. The way Rob’s face had twisted in anger, his too. Never before had he felt such anger, such disgust too. There were things he had said that he instantly had regretted, but Rob wouldn’t let him off the hook either. He had pursued it, like a dog with a bone in its jaws. No way was he going to let it go, and now, well now Trent understood it better.

Course, when Rob had said he damn well needed to know where Trent stood on it, given how he was planning to spend his entire life with him, well it changed the whole argument. It also made him realize that in many ways, Rob had planned it that way. He was a calculating son of a bitch, at times, but then, maybe that was why so many respected him. He saw not just the next hill, but beyond the whole range of hills.

He knew that it would be hard for Trent, not the gay stuff, but what if Rob’s determination to walk again, didn’t work out? Could Trent handle that, could their relationship handle that? In some ways, the whole being gay thing, wasn’t what they fought about, but the feelings of guilt, of fear too.

Just like back when he had been eighteen, unwilling to admit he liked guys, that he wanted dick not pussy. Now it was the same, in many ways. Was he really willing to spend to his remaining years looking after a cripple? Was he prepared to have his sex life limited by braces, by broken limbs?

Yet each time he had thought about it, he too had wondered, but the memories, they were just too much, too overpowering. Still, Rob knew that too, making sure that Trent did, as well. It was all part of the whole transition, from military life, to one of domestic bliss, as Rob put it. Only thing was, domestic bliss had its pitfalls, its battlefields too.

At first he didn’t think he could handle it, making his private life, public. Yet with Rob, it was like, it didn’t matter, because he had him to come home to, to be with. Strange, because he had never felt so alive, as when around Rob. Specially after the trial, after what had been described as a brilliant military career had come to a close.

None of it matter, and yet sitting alone in that dingy apartment, after the final gavel of the Courts Martial, after the rendered judgement of his peers, it didn’t seem to matter. He had Rob, and Rob him.

They had lain on the bed, the hot stuffiness of the room making the shirts stick to their skin, when Rob had looked up at him, and just smiled. It was like the future didn’t seem so dark, so ominous. It was as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders, as Rob pulled himself up on the bed, so his back lay against the headboard.

What if it doesn’t get any better than this? Can you handle it Trent?

He had seen the look, seen the way he was being given a way out. Trent knew that look, had seen it many times, when he had even grabbed at it. As he studied his friend, and his friend him, he saw it all flash before him. The tent, the way the sleeping bags had been laid out for them both.

But there wasn’t any eighteen year olds spread out on them. Instead there was a wheelchair to one side, metal crutches next to it, and shiny metal braces on the seat of the wheelchair. He could see two old men, hair white for the most part, where there was any hair. It was them both, but not in the past, but the future.

He had shaken his head, to clear the image, but it persisted, as he realized that his mind was transporting him to what it might be, if things didn’t get better, if Rob didn’t manage to confound the Doctors.

It scared him, to peer into the possible future. Here he was, discharged, unsure what he would be doing at his age, with a cripple to care for. Maybe that was harsh, but it was the truth, and one thing he knew, the truth never stayed hidden for long. Could he cope? Could he manage the rest of his life, looking after someone who couldn’t look after themselves?

Not the sex, because that was what it would be, but the rest of it. The having to help him to the bathroom, and afterwards. The having to bathe him, to clean him up, because he couldn’t do it for himself. Could he spend the rest of his life, dealing with that, as well as all the rest? The medical bills, the medical crisis that would surely follow as they both grew older, could he deal with that, and still love him?

Looking at the vision, of what might be, he wondered if he could, and he felt a cold chill in his heart, despite the warmth of the small room. Despite his shirt being sticky with his sweat, he felt a coldness in his heart, as his eyes looked downwards, and across the room. There was the wheelchair, dark and forbidding, the crutches off to the side. Just as in his vision, but they looked dark, forbidding, as he turned his eyes back to his friend.

Already he had made sacrifices, to be with him. He had outed himself, had thrown his entire career away, and for what? Damaged Goods? That was what some would think, would believe, and yet, did he believe that? Was Rob damaged?

Sure, he had no feeling in his legs, his arms were barely strong enough to pull himself up into a sitting position, and while he had managed to wheel the chair for a little distance, he still couldn’t get around with being pushed. He might make it to the bathroom, but that exhausted him, least then it did.

The sun shone off some stones, blinding him for a minute, as he saw the struggling figure of the man, making his way down the road towards the gate. Yes, now he could walk, now he could manage a lot more than just wheeling himself to the edge of a bathroom 40 or so feet away.

Back then, they didn’t know what lay ahead. Back then, Trent had no idea what Rob could manage, or not. Neither did Rob, and the question had to be asked, the way out had to be given. He could see that now, see it then too. He knew Rob was just as frightened, but he was thinking of Trent, when he had asked.

Trent hadn’t answered Rob, instead he had simply stood up, and took off his sweat soaked shirt, tossing it aside, while unbuckling his belt and throwing his clothes off. His eyes had never left Rob’s, which seemed to grow wider with each discarded piece of Trent’s clothing.

He stood there, stark naked, as he stared at his friend. It was like yesterday, as he watched his friend make it to the gate now. His body had tingled, as he had stood there, seeing the way Rob’s face looked at him. Seeing how his eyes sparkled, as he moved slowly towards him. Rob had licked his lips, as Trent moved around the bed, to stand beside him.

The way his face looked up at him, as he towered over him. How he flinched, as he reached out with his hand, to tussle his hair, to run the back of his hand down his friend’s face. He could see it all now, as if he was there. How hot his cheeks felt, how flushed he was, as he let his hand move down, as he sat on the edge of the bed.

There was no mistaking the fear that existed either. Yet he seemed unwilling to let it stop him, as his hand moved down his friends face, to rest lightly on his chest, near one side of him. He could feel the irregular beat of the heart, feel him sucking in air, afraid to let it out, until forced to. The way his whole body seemed to be on edge, as if wound up tight, beyond its ability, ready to explode. Trent felt it all, as his hand rested there, as they looked at each other.

Yes the vision of the camping trip had been altered. There was a wheelchair, but it was still the same tent, still the same sleeping bags. So there was some added stuff, it didn’t change how he had felt that time when they were just eighteen, it hadn’t changed how excited he felt, being touched by Rob, or by him touching Rob.

Nothing was really different. Sure, time had marched on, things had changed, but so? They were still the same, older, more experienced, had more to share, so what if Rob couldn’t run a marathon anymore? So what if he needed Trent to shift his legs, to lay them out? It was still him, still the same man inside, and wasn’t that what had made him fall for him, in the first place?

He had let his hand move downwards, to run across Rob’s crotch, as he thought about it all, as he thought about how he had always liked Rob, how before that birthday party, he had been attracted to him. It wasn’t his good looks, wasn’t his lock of hair that he would wipe away, or how his basket would bulge at times.

It was how he felt after they talked, how he would lay next to him, on those sleep overs, and just be there. It wasn’t his dick, or his ass, it was him. It was how it felt to have his warm breath blow across his chest, or his face. It was how he felt each time he looked at him with those eyes, always sparkling.

That is what made him want him, made him dream of him when they were apart. It was how he was always watching Trent’s back, without it seeming like he was. His hand had stopped over Rob’s groin, and he began to unbuckle his pants, to let his hand slide underneath, as his eyes stared deeply into those of Rob. He could feel him, not just his hard penis, but the man himself.

It had made him shudder then, and it did again now. He felt the rolling tremor inside, just as he had back then, as he told him, in his own way, that it didn’t matter. The fear he had, seemed gone the instant his hand touched Rob’s penis. The very instant he felt his warm body, felt his heart beating, he knew he could manage whatever the future would hurl at them both.

If Rob never walked, if this was indeed as good as it got, he’d manage. It wasn’t some form of penance either, because he didn’t see it as an obligation. Just as then, he felt the excitement inside, felt the tingling as he undid the pants some more, as he pushed them open.

He breathed in deeply then, smelling his scent, his aroma. Just as then, he could smell it now, feel it waft around his nostrils, float deep down into his nasal passage to make his heart quiver with the excitement. Just as then, Trent could feel it all over again.

How good it had felt to touch him, to let his hand move down, and push the shorts down, so that Rob’s penis stuck up, fully aroused. His legs might not work, but that third leg had no trouble standing up. How it had felt, had trembled to his light touch. Trent could feel it throb, through the tips of his fingers, as he let them move up and down the hard pole. His eyes could see the little flickers inside of Rob’s eyes, as his fingers moved up and down, then around the head.

His eyes never left Rob’s, as his fingers seemed to know where to move, how to move, no matter in which way Rob’s cock jerked, or moved to his touch. It all seemed like they were connected in ways, that were impossible to be, but he felt it then, felt it now, and yes, he had felt it ever since. They were connected.

His body shook, just as it did that time too. Trent could feel the way his legs grew stiff, how his heart began to race, as his fingers just moved across the throbbing pole, at how they sensed the blood pumping through the organ, feeling every drop as it rushed past. It didn’t make sense, but he could feel each drop, feel its warmth, its very essence, and he could see it too, see it in Rob’s eyes.

The way he looked, how when his heart skipped a beat, he could see that too, see the chest rising and falling as his breathe became labored, became shallow, as his body reacted to his simple touch. Trent could hear his questions to, his constant question of if he was sure, if he was certain.

Yet as he heard the question being asked, his body was responding, telling him yes, soothing his frightened nerves, with reassurances, that no words could ever give. How calm he had felt, as his fingers moved down the hard pole, to circle the shaft, to feel its power, as it shook to his touch. How at ease he felt, as his body gave Rob the answer he wanted, the answer he needed to hear.

Closing his eyes, he could see it all again. See how the vision of the tent, switched from two old men laying on the sleeping bag, to two eighteen year olds, exhausted by the night’s passion. He smiled, as he felt his groin stir, as he felt Rob’s cum spurting through his fingers.

How neither of them seemed surprised either, as they just stared at each other, as Rob’s body shook, as his milk flowed. How he felt his own body shake, felt his own heart quicken, as it felt the hot jizz flow past his fingers. It was as good as if they had been having intercourse. The moment was right, for just what they had done.

How Rob’s chest had heaved, how his eyes had shone, as the last of his milk dribbled out. The way he had looked at him, had felt the calm entering his friend’s body, and mind. They never did speak about the ‘what if’ again, they simply didn’t need to. They had answered the question, the only way they could, with deeds, not words.

Trent heard his name, and he shook his head, to stare out at the front. There was Rob, at the mailbox, and he was waving the envelope. He smiled, as he left his post, to head outside. The blast of hot air assailed him, but he didn’t care as he jogged down the path, to his friend. Trent could see his eyes sparkling, see how his body seemed a bit more erect, a bit stronger.

Coming to stand in front of him, he saw the State Seal on the envelope. He smiled, as he held Rob’s hand, as he ripped it open, to pull it out. He saw the fancy writing, saw it all as Rob turned from looking at the certificate to look up at him. The canes were in one hand, suddenly fell to the ground, as Rob just looked at Trent.

It’s official now

Trent felt the tears at the corner of his eyes, as he saw the small grin on his friend’s face. It was like being eighteen again, as he leaned forward, and pushed the hand holding the certificate to one side. With his other hand, he lifted up his friend’s face, and stared into it.

Was there any doubt?

As he said it, he leaned forward and kissed Rob fully on the mouth. A car whizzed past, honking as it did, but he barely heard it above the roar of his heart. He felt Rob’s body pulse, felt it shake, as they held each other, tasting each other. The tent, the crackling fire, all of it was there, parading past them, as they clung to each other, feeling the satisfaction of having reached this moment, together.

The license lay between them, clenched in both of their hands, as they broke apart, and looked into each other’s eyes, for the millionth time. It felt right, now, just as it had back then, so many years ago. Rob smiled, as he held onto Trent. His body swayed, but he reached up, and wiped away that rebellious lock of hair, grinning as he did, recognizing the glint in Trent’s face.

We’re legal now

He couldn’t help but grin, at seeing the joy in Rob’s face. Deep down inside, he knew he too was just as happy, just as excited. At long last, part of their struggle was over, part of their pain was now gone.

You Non Coms, we have always been legal.

Picture Courtesy of UK Naked Men

from their videoArmy Medical

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Watch Army Medical Video at UK Naked Men.

3May

Story – Graveyard Shift with Dawson (pt.3)

Graveyard Shift with Dawson (3)

By Ian Kovnats (Gaystoryman)

Copyright © 2008 ? All Rights Reserved

Part (3)

Slowly the silence was becoming a bit much. He lay there, feeling a bit cramped from the position, and yet Chip didn’t seem to notice. His eyes grew a bit dark, as he finally moved, but it wasn’t what Dawson expected. Instead of reaching for him, or something, he reached down and pulled his underwear up over his crotch.

For a second, Dawson thought he saw a flash of disgust, of anger, but he couldn’t be sure, as he moved, to go sit in the only other chair of the room. It was as if suddenly he was with a stranger, as Chip quickly dressed, making a point of zipping up the pants. He barely looked at Dawson, and it felt so odd.

Just moments earlier he had the guy’s dick in his mouth, his cum had been dripping down the corners, and now the guy was acting like he barely knew Dawson. It was a total switch, and he was too tired to try and figure it out. He stood up, and thanked Chip for the coffee, and said he had to be going.

He had thought Chip would say something, to keep him from leaving, but instead seemed relieved that he was going. It didn’t make much sense, as he headed out of the apartment, with Chip several steps behind. It was like he didn’t want to get too close to him, or like maybe he had some disease. If he hadn’t been so tired, he might ask, but fuck it, it wasn’t worth the effort. Besides, he had gotten to suck him off, so it hadn’t been a total waste.

Heading home, he felt slightly pissed off. The more he thought about Chip, about how he had acted, the angrier he got. It wasn’t like he had asked to go up with him, or to have coffee. It wasn’t him that had started to talk about sucking cock either, and hell, the guy did seem to enjoy it, so why the cold shoulder? Okay, sure he was nervous, and maybe he was a closet case, but it didn’t give him the right to be rude afterwards.

He knew he would have to work with him too, as he was scheduled for tonight’s shift, which only made it worse. Dawson didn’t want his sex life to ruin his job, as it was a perfect job for him. The pay was good, the hours were what he wanted, and it did suit his needs, for now. Besides, it did give him time to whack off, when he had the right working partner, which obviously Chip wasn’t working out to be. Still, it was a worry, and he knew he would agonize over it all day, until he got to work.

Then he also knew he’d have to have it out with Chip. If Chip wasn’t into it, fine, but he wanted to make damn sure it stayed between them, wasn’t gossiped about in some twisted way. He had seen those rumours happen, and he did not want to be involved in that type of crap. The job just wasn’t worth it, and given how some of the others were, he really wasn’t up for their crap either, if they found out about him.

Opting to skip classes, he had a nice hot shower, and closed the blinds in his place, shutting out the pale glimmer of sunlight. Turning over, he still couldn’t shake Chip from his thoughts, as he set his alarm clock and tried to get some sleep. It had been a long night, and he had another late shift ahead. Maybe after some zee’s he’d be able to figure out just what really had gone down this morning. He was pretty sure that Chip had wanted it, had more or less asked for it, but he never had said the words.

Had he read him wrong? Had he maybe pushed his own desires onto him, and being his boss, did Chip feel the need to comply? Christ, that was all he needed, some stupid sexual harassment charge. God, he’d be fired in a flash, whether it was true or not, then what would he do? Not like he’d get a reference, and these days, you needed one of those.

Still, he was certain Chip had asked, in his own way. He also didn’t think he’d be the type to go running to the Boss, least not without clearing the air with him, or was he just hoping that was the case? Shit, what did he know about Chip, other than he was damn sexy, and that his cock tasted delicious?

What if he wasn’t 18? Shit, he had assumed he was, simply because he said he was just out of Grade Twelve, but fuck, what if he had been one of those accelerated student? No, no way could Chipper be one of those, the guy sure didn’t exhibit the brains one would assume an accelerated student would have. He had to be 18, and besides, he was a jock. Not like they were noted for brain power, least not the one’s he had ever dealt with.

Still it was a troubling thought, making his sleep rather fitful, so when he heard the ringing, he naturally reached over for his alarm clock. With bleary eyes, he stared at it, not willing to believe it was time to get up, and as his eyes focused, the ringing jolted him, making him lay very still. It was his phone, not the friggin alarm clock, and he quickly grabbed it, mumbling into it.

He couldn’t hear a thing, and repeated his greeting, still getting nothing. At first he thought whoever had called, had hung up, but then his mind cleared enough, and he was certain he could hear someone breathing on the other end.

Hello? I can fucking hear you breathing, who is this?

Still no answer, and he got pissed off. Bad enough to have had to deal with Chip, and now his sleep was ruined by some prankster. Fuck he hated kids, and their idea of a joke, as once more he yelled into the phone. With no reply, he yelled again.

Fuck you dip stick’ and hung the phone up. He lay there, panting a bit, realizing he was still on edge. Glancing at the clock, he figured he could still get some rest, before the alarm rang, and turning over, he pummelled his pillow, and laid his head down on it. Just then, the phone rang again, and he cursed, reaching over for it, answering it more calmly.

Hello

He listened, and again he knew he could hear someone there. Yet not a word, nothing, which was really pissing him off. Bad enough the asshole woke him up, now he was just getting him mad, as he yelled at the receiver, telling whoever to fuck off, and slammed the phone down. He then turned off his ringer, figuring screw it. Not like anyone important would call, and if it was, they knew where he lived, or how to get a hold of him later.

Trying to relax, to let the sleep come, he couldn’t help but keep thinking of Chip, and now the phone call. Suddenly he felt wide awake, as the thought came to him that maybe it was Chip calling, that maybe he was phoning to apologize? But if it was him, why the fuck didn’t he speak? Or was he too scared, too ashamed of himself?

Come to think of it, the guy had acted rather nervous, rather like he really was turned off by the thought of enjoying another guy’s touch, or worse, being sucked off by a guy. Something about the morning, how he had looked, made him wonder, if maybe Chip really wasn’t a straight guy, but queer, just not ready to admit it? Course he was no shrink, but then again he had felt that hesitation, that reluctance.

Christ, just what he needed, some closet case stalking him, or worse, hating him for it. There had been that case on one of the talk shows, where a guy had gone nuts because some gay guy had professed his love for him. Man, just what he needed, a nut job after him, and worse, he had to work with him later tonight.

Dawson stared at the phone, and at the alarm clock, thinking. It had to be Chip, but then he rather hoped it wasn’t. If it was, man he’d chew him out tonight. The anger was still there, but then he started to think. If it was Chip, it could get dicey at work. What if he had some of his jock friends come by work? Man, it could get really ugly, and fear was making him chilled.

He could feel himself breaking out into a cold sweat actually, as he kept thinking about all that could go wrong, all because he had sucked the guy off. Shit, it wasn’t his fault, the guy had wanted it, but then he had said he had only wondered, about some stupid saying. Okay, so he had asked him, and had gotten a nod, but he never spoke the words, never actually said ‘yes suck me off’ or anything like that.

Then there was no shaking the dread he was feeling, about the possible complications for work. He was the supervisor, if he wanted to, he could have Chip fired, so could he have somehow misunderstood Dawson? Could Chip make a case that he was merely nodding, so as to keep his job?

God what a mess, as he threw the sheets off, and headed for his shower. He needed sleep, but no way was he going to get any, thinking of jock boy and this morning. He needed to wake up, to think this thing through, to decide if he was going to even show up for work. Maybe he should call the boss, fake not feeling well or something. Hell, it wasn’t like he had ever really taken any time off before, even when he had felt like crap. The boss wouldn’t tweak to anything, unless Chipper had called him to complain. Course, the boss would be pounding on his door if he had, so as of now, he felt like it was still manageable.

That didn’t mean it would stay that way, as he let the hot water cascade over his tired body. He reached for the soap, and couldn’t help but keep on thinking of Chip. The guy was hot, no denying that, but he sure needed some lessons in manners. Christ, even if he hadn’t liked the blow job, he didn’t have to go all silent, all nasty looking.

The hot steamy water was gradually easing the tension in his body, and his mind. His hand soaped his body up, as he tried to relax, to ignore the fear that was gnawing at him. He really didn’t think it would become a problem, but better prepared than to be caught off guard. Still, Chip didn’t seem like the type to resort to violence, or in running to the boss. Course he could always deny it, make something up that Chip came on to him, to get a better recommendation or something like that.

He shook his head, letting the water do its job. No sense in spending more time worrying, as he felt the water spray against his chest, felt it sting a bit, as he turned the hot water up more. Dawson let the spray beat against his body, striking it until his mind ignored everything else, but the tiny darts of heat that soaked into his body. The tiredness seemed to go away, as he let his body just soak, desperately pushing aside the fears, the worries.

Once he got to work, he’d know the score. If the boss was there, well he’d deal with it then. If it was just him, then he’d know that it was Chip who had been phoning. Now if Chip showed up, well he’d just play it like nothing happened this morning, let the little jock sweat for a change, maybe wait and let him bring it up. Be a damn sight easier, and then man would he lay into him.

Even the hot water couldn’t stop his body from recalling the morning, nor how good Chip’s cock had tasted. He wasn’t the first straight boy he had ever done either, but certainly the tastiest. Plus, he had the look, that perfect blend of skin, muscles, and aroma. Kind of a shame to see it wasted on some fish, but hell, whatever turned the guy on.

Least he wasn’t going the clingy route that one of his earlier tricks had done. Now that hadn’t been freaky, just that it took him awhile to get him to back off. Like the guy was cute enough, certainly wasn’t a bad fuck either, but he just wasn’t Dawson’s type. After all, he did have standards, and while Mark was cute enough, he did like his partners to at least move around a bit, to show they were enjoying the sex, even if it was faked.

Still, Mark did have a nice ass, firm butt cheeks that were perfectly shaped. The way they looked as he would spread them apart, how firm they felt when he would put his hands on them, to stretch them apart, how he would push his knees against the firm thighs, to widen the legs, so he could enter him just right, was nice, but there was a damn site more to sex, that firm asses.

He found that while Mark appeared to like being fucked, the most he ever got out of him, was a few long drawn out grunts. He didn’t arch back, didn’t moan or whimper even. He just grunted, while he would pound his ass with his dick. In and out, and never one cry of pleasure, or pain. Shit, even the moment of penetration barely got a grunt out of the guy. And he had been Mark’s first fuck too, yet it was as if Mark was born to take a dick up the ass.

Least the way it slid in so easy, the way it glided in and out without even a whimper of pain, or joy. He had to either be born with a loose butthole, or had lied about Dawson being his first fuck.

Thinking about Mark, he felt a small little twinge at his groin. His hand moved down naturally, to squeeze his balls, to give his dick a bit of a stroke, as he let the warm water cascade across his face, making him relax a bit more. No doubt Mark was just full of it, and was nothing but one of those who pretended they were straight, but were doing every dick they could find. For some, maybe it was a bigger turn on, if the other was straight, but for him, he just didn’t give a damn.

He liked his men to show they were enjoying it, that they were into it. Like Chip had done while he had been on his knees, sucking on that dick. Now he certainly was straight, at least until he had his dick in Dawson’s mouth. Sure didn’t sound straight then, but fuck, the look he gave him afterwards, still gave him the shivers.

Dawson slapped the soap in the palm of his hand, trying to change his mind’s focus. Thinking of Mark was no good, but then if he was honest, not too many of the other’s he had sex with were memorable, least in the way he would prefer. Ronny, now he might be worth a quick pull or two, but nothing special there either.

Sure the guy had a nice dick, uncut too. Only trouble was he didn’t always wash his head good enough. Though he had solved that particular problem by making cleaning it a bit of their foreplay. Still, the guy didn’t lay there, and that was damn better than Mark, though Mark had a bigger cock. Still, Ronny groaned, he made noises that gave him a bit of a thrill, as he drilled his hole, or sucked on his pole.

Now the fun he had with him was worth a bit, but in the final end, Ronny was just like the rest. He wasn’t boyfriend material, that was for sure. A good lay when there wasn’t much else, and sure, he had a good tasting penis, after a nice bit of a wash, but that wasn’t enough to build a relationship on. Dawson wanted more, and it turned out, a damn bit more than Ronny was prepared to deliver.

For starters, he might moan, might shake a bit, but when he was done, he was done. There was no reciprocation, no turning over and doing Dawson. Once his cock head reared back, the foreskin drooping over it for a second, before it pushed out and fired off a shot of hot cum, that was it. No seconds even, not even a dribble after that first load came out. Not like he tried for more either.

Plus, soon as that first stream was gone, that dick was back to looking like a shrivelled up prune. Like, how could anyone be so hot, so aroused that their dick looked like a huge steel rod, then suddenly look like a new twig on a tree? It just didn’t make sense, and while he could handle a soft dick, it was like Ronny’s entire sex drive shrivelled up with the spent dick.

Hell, one second he would be panting, the next it was as if he had just spent the last half hour sleeping, recharging. His chest would stop its heaving, the instant his cum was shot. The racing of his heart, suddenly would be like a gentle purr of a cat being stroked. As for returning the favour, of even stretching a hand out to stroke Dawson’s cock, that was, like, so not happening, that it made him go soft almost as quickly.

Chip wouldn’t be that way, he thought, as he let the hot water rinse his body off. There was no doubt that Chip would be a real moaner, plus he’d be active. He would move, shake, jiggle, whatever, and he could just imagine how he would be as a top too. Man, it would have been nice to have found out, but that wasn’t about to happen. Not now anyways.

Towelling off, he felt a bit better. So much that he turned the ringer back on his phone, and almost had a heart attack as it shrieked at him. Just his luck, a call the instant he turned the ringer on. Grabbing the handset, while trying to hold the towel around his middle, he felt his stomach drop, as once more it was just some jerk, breathing.

As he was about to yell, he got the idea of turning the tables on the sicko, whoever it was.

ooh baby, that sounds so sexy, your hot breath, bet it would feel good on my dick, shit I can feel it now, the odd drop of saliva, hitting my stiff shaft, on the back of my hand, as I stroke my dick, ooh baby, breath some more, I am getting a hard on, come on big boy, breath for daddy…

The click gave him a chuckle as he replaced the receiver, and instead of turning the ringer off, he decided to hell with it. Let the fucker enjoy that, and hell if he called back, well, he had a few other ideas of how to have fun with the sicko.

Adjusting the towel, he went back to his bedroom, to towel off, and unwind. Maybe he could grab an extra hour before heading off to work, if he picked up a burger or something. Hell, he could always send Chip for something, as he stretched out on his bed. His dick was a bit hard, as he thought about the dip shit that had been phoning. Maybe he had scared him off, or maybe he’d call back, wanting more. If he did, well what the fuck, why not. It would be a good lark, and he could satisfy himself at the same time. After all, not knowing who was on the other end, was half the fun of phone sex.

Maybe he should think of that, for a job? Might be fun to get paid, to get other people all hot and bothered, and while doing it, get himself off too. He had seen the ads in the magazines, and why not, if the pay was good? Still, the whole idea of some stranger calling him was bugging him, and the more he dwelled on it, the more convinced he was becoming that it was Chip.

There was no doubt that his little bit of sex talk got whoever upset, you could hear it in the way the breathing suddenly stopped, surprised. Then too the click, as whoever it was, hung up. It wasn’t slammed down, but just placed down, and no way some pervert would do that. It had to be Chip, but why the fuck wasn’t he speaking? Was he trying to piss him off, or play some sick game?

Dawson closed his eyes, wishing he knew, wondering what tonight would bring. It was like the hot shower hadn’t helped, as he tossed and turned, wondering, dreaming. It was not restful, specially when his alarm clock buzzed, along with the phone. He stared at the phone, as he punched the alarm button, shutting it off.

He kept staring at it, as it rang, then reached over, to shut off the ringer. Screw it, if it was Chip, he’d find out soon enough, if not, well the creep could wait till he was ready to whack off. There wasn’t time now, as he grabbed his pants, and got ready for work. One thing was certain, tonight’s graveyard shift wouldn’t be boring.

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