Chapter Three

Mr. Garfield’s Package Part One

Peter set multiple alarms for the morning so he would make it to his parent’s house on time. By the third alarm, he was up and ready to go. After two hours of driving, he finally pulled into his family’s gated neighborhood. Stopping before the gate, he pushed the red button to call up the gate attendant. After a few seconds a boy came out in a ruffled uniform and a crooked hat. He moved towards the window, sharp blue eyes narrowing as he looked at Peter.

“Peter!” He said. “Is it really you?”

“It’s barely been six months, Sam,” Peter said chuckling. They both took a moment to look at each other. Sam hadn’t changed much since Peter had last seen him. He still had that sandy blonde hair, the blotchy stubble, the sharp jaw. A sparkle in Sam’s eyes began to shine as a memory flashed across his eyes. He put his hand on the top of the car.

“It’s been so long since you kept coming home with Laura almost every other day,” he said chuckling.

“Yeah it’s been awhile,” Peter said suddenly flooded with memories of Laura, his best friends in high school. He remembered the wood walls and the green carpets of her cabin-esque home. Her bright red hair springing out every which way.

“Some fun times with you guys. Always felt as old as you guys,” he said taking a moment to sigh. “And look at you now! You even got facial hair!” Peter laughed rubbing the brown stubble on his chin. “Only gone a year and you’re so much older than I remember.”

“And you’re eighteen now, that must be exciting,” Peter said.

“I feel I little more adult, but honestly it’s a lot of the same.” A car behind Peter’s honked. “Well, I guess I’ll see you about?”

“I’ll be here for three weeks, so you will,” Peter answered starting to drive off. “Nice seeing you!” Peter drove forward as the gate opened.

*               *               *

He pulled into his parent’s driveway and stared at the house. He didn’t remember it being so big. Who needed a house that big? After knocking on the door he entered the house, bombarded by many of his relatives. Many of them behaved like Sam did but took it to another level. Jesus, why did people have to be so sentimental, he thought.

Peter spent the afternoon surrounded by his family and relatives, telling tales of his adventures in college. He had to downplay some facts that had to do with a lot of cock and a lot of ass, and completely omit things like the rest stop. He knew how to keep a secret. He had to learn, otherwise, how else could he have kept porn magazines stuffed between the mattress and bed frame?

After the conversation died down, many of the relatives retired to their guest bedrooms. Finally, Peter was able to kiss his parents goodnight and retire to his old bedroom. His stuff sat still, remaining untouched. He lifted up his mattress to see if the magazines were there. Sure enough, they were. Peter sighed in relief, glad his mother hadn’t gone poking around.

He stripped off his clothing, glad to finally be alone with himself, naked. Getting under his old covers, he felt at home. He felt as if he had to masturbate quickly to get to bed so he could wake up early enough to catch the bus in the morning. Speaking of high school, maybe he’d go and visit in the morning.

Peter closed his eyes and cupped his balls in his hand, glad to finally be alone.

*               *               *

After visiting a few of his favorite teachers, Peter was prepared to go home, but he still hadn’t said hello to one last teacher, Mr. Garfield. Mr. Garfield had been Peter’s eleventh grade English 2 Honors teacher. He held a special place in Peter’s heart. When Peter fell behind in class which caused his grades to plummet; no other teacher offered any help, save Mr. Garfield. He was a savior, a confidant, someone Peter could tell everything to. It also helped that Mr. Garfield constantly gave Peter constant hardons during class. Damn, could the man fill out a suite.

Peter waited outside room 112, Mr. Garfield’s room, until class was dismissed for lunch. The bell soon rang and students began pouring out of the classroom. A few freshman gave him curious looks but a few upperclassman recognized him and smiled. At least some people remembered him. After everyone had left, Peter stood in the doorway, watching Mr. Garfield sort papers on his desk.

The man had grown a beautiful beard since the last time Peter saw him. It was well trimmed and maintained for a twenty-nine year old. Peter watched his bright red lips move as he spoke to himself. He had a habit of doing that. Peter knocked on the door.

Mr. Garfield looked up, mouth slightly open.

“Peter!” he said. Peter’s smile cracked open wildly as he walked towards Mr. Garfield, embracing the man in a tight hug. Mr. Garfield held him at arm’s length, looking him over “You’re so large!” Peter laughed.

“I’ve gotten a lot of that today,” Peter said still smiling, “And you’ve grown a beard.”

“Ah yes,” he said stroking the short bristles, “An attempt to appear a little older to the students.”

“Well you’re certainly not fresh out of college like you were when you taught me,” Peter said. Mr. Garfield laughed.

“Yes, of course,” he said. Then he pulled up a chair next to his desk and motioned towards it. “Came and sit, Peter, we can catch up till the end of lunch.” Peter took the seat.

“So tell me, how are you finding college in Brooklyn?” He asked, “how’s my alma mater?”

“It’s fantastic, and thanks again for helping with the application. I feel like I was freed from a cage and encouraged to flutter about, try new things.”

“And did you?” Mr. Garfield asked.

Peter began to describe Peter talked about Brooklyn College. He mentioned the clubs and the organizations. Even a few protests he went to. He found himself talking about the guys there, how they were infinitely more attractive there then in Virginia. He felt safe talking about guys with Mr. Garfield for some reason. He hadn’t done it intentionally. As he did, however, he noticed Mr. Garfield’s pants getting tighter. Mr. Garfield looked down and blushed.

“Oh, no no no,” he said. Trying to readjust himself. “I’m so sorry.”

“Mr. Garfield, I’m not a student anymore,” Peter said chuckling. “I turned eighteen last year, remember?” Mr. Garfield paused, thinking for a moment.

“Yes but people don’t just casually let their hardons show in public do they?” he said.

“Oh come on,” Peter said. “I was hoping we could start having a more mature relationship. We’re just two guys hanging out. We both get hardons. Why hide it?” As Peter talked, he scooted forward. He looked down at Mr. Garfield’s bulging pants. There was a small circle of precum darkening the fabric. “Mr. Garfield, are you wearing underwear?” Mr. Garfield looked down to see the spot.

“Oh, God. Well, actually, no. I don’t own any. Makes my life a little more sexy, don’t you think?”

“Oh, I do,” Peter said reaching out and placing his hand on Mr. Garfield’s firm stomach. He flinched at the touch, as if shot with an electric current. Peter slipped his hands below the hemline, feeling the bristly hair on Mr. Garfield’s tan skin. He reached for the base of his thick cock. Just as Peter made contact, Mr. Garfield pulled away.

“Peter, no. Not here. Not now. Lunch is almost over, look at the time!” Mr. Garfield stood up and Peter followed. They stood in silence until Mr. Garfield sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine, we can have a ‘more mature’ relationship as you said. When can I see you?” he asked.

            “Well, my family is throwing a Christmas party, maybe then?”

            “It’d be great to see your family again,” said Mr. Garfield, “I suppose I’ll see you then?”

            “I’ll be there,” Peter said. And with licked lips, Peter turned the corner and left.

 

Red Chocolate

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