Along the Garden Path

Jesse stood up, arching his back as he stretched, trying to work the kinks out of his lower back. His hands rested on the small of his back, as he leaned backwards, head tilted back. The soreness began to ease a bit, as he twisted his upper body around a bit, they eyes squinting at the bright sun that beamed down. He took a few deep breathes, as his body felt like it was a hundred, instead of the twenty eight years it was.

Slowly, as the pain eased, he let himself stand erect, staring down at his handiwork. The flower bed was nearly filled with the tiny shoots of flower stems, some nearly ready to bloom, other's just beginning to bud. The weather had been perfect for planting the bedding plants, and he admired his handiwork. Hopefully his client would agree, as he looked up, and over at the stone house in the distance.

It was one of those two story stone houses, built long before modern siding techniques were in vogue. Massive stones in a distinctive pattern, dotted the lower level, with huge bay windows that overlooked the rather large front yard area.

The second level used smaller stones, but each one was obviously hand placed, with a pattern in mind. Jesse couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship of the stone work, how each piece was fitted into the wall. They really knew how to build them back then, and he couldn't help but wish more houses were like this one.

Three large trees dominated the front area. In between two was the walkway to the front of the house, then the drive to the garage was also guarded by another tree. Shade of the front was enormous, from the large branches that poked out from the trees, and in one, he could see the remnants of an old tree house or fort. Must have been when the occupants had small children, though it was hard to imagine the couple inside, having kids.

She was a rather domineering type, very posh in her appearance, and her speech. Nothing was common about her approach, and she prided herself in using the proper names for the plants she wanted Jesse to use. In looks, you would never imagine her being attractive to any man, with the long thin face, the small beady eyes, but she had snagged someone.

Her manner wasn't mean, just snooty, but in a sort of, accepting way. At first he found her a pain, but she knew her plants, and she knew what she wanted. He learned to not argue, but simply do it her way, and so far, it had worked out. The addition of the bedding plants was not in character, but then nothing about the Willows seemed normal.

As he looked at the massive house, he could see the lace curtain in the main room flutter, and he just knew, that it was Mr. Willows. It had creeped him out at first, until he realized that Mr. Willows was like any old geezer, married to someone like Mrs. Willows.

While she looked, an acted like an old battle axe, he on the other hand seemed a lot younger. At a guess he'd figure the guy was at least sixty, but he had to be older, given that he was retired. Must be nice, he thought, to be able to just sit around all day, and enjoy the money, he obviously had.

The house was not a mansion, but it was well situated, and the land it sat on, well it was a darn site bigger than what some apartment buildings sat on. Not only was the front yard rather large, but the backyard was like being on a farm. Tons of space, dotted with trees all over, but well spaced.

In some ways it was a bit scary. Everything around the house looked so structured, so ordered. The way the trees were pruned, to how deep he dug holes for plants, were all carefully spelled out by her, with him, just watching. That too had been unnerving, and a couple of times, he had noticed how she would suddenly turn and stare at her husband, until he lowered his head, then mumbled something and left. It was as if, well, as if he was a trained puppy, being admonished for some trivial transgression.

Jesse stretched again, pushing his hands out from his upper body, pushing his hips just a bit forwards, while tilting his head back slightly. He yawned as he noticed the lace curtains flutter a bit more, knowing that Mr. Willows was watching. It was like that every Monday & Thursday, when he would show up to do the landscaping work.

In his mind, he didn't think he was what you would call handsome. Sure, he had a fit body, from working outside all his life, from bending and lifting, so sure he had a good toned body, but that alone didn't make, what he would call handsome. His face was usually covered with a day or two of growth, simply because he hated shaving. His hair was a bit straggly, though short.

Jesse hated his hair getting tangled in trees, or shrubbery, so keeping it short helped him. Plus, nothing worse than sweaty strands of hair falling across his warm face, which was often enough when the weather was nice. Working outside had its advantages, but it had also weathered his face a bit. There were lines around the forehead, and a few around his mouth, plus the small bags under his eyes, all made him think he was just ordinary, nothing to get excited about.

Mind you, his package was a different matter. He was uncut to begin with, and had been blessed with an above average sized dick, which the guys enjoyed. Least those he let unwrap his package, but lately, he had been a bit more selective. Not like there had been a ton chasing him before or now, but he just seemed to have a body language that said, 'back off', a bit more lately.

If he was honest with himself, he really had never been much of a sex demon. Not even as a teenager, with raging hormones. Least for him he never thought they ever got into the 'raging' category. He got horny, enjoyed jacking off in his bedroom, but the whole sex with another person, just never really made him any hornier, or excited.

As he once more surveyed his work, he couldn't help but wonder what Mr. Willows' story was. The man obviously took care of his body, and yet was so docile around her, that it seemed almost sterile. Mind you, the idea of anyone mounting that old prune, was well, not for the weak of heart. Still, it wasn't like she was bad, she did allow the kitchen door to be open for him, during his days working, and he was welcome to help himself.

That had surprised him, the way she had made it seem so normal, which really it wasn't. Sure, some of his clients did offer him coffee or a cold drink, but she had given him the run of the kitchen, including the 'larder' as she called it. At first he didn't get it, the meaning, which Mr. Willows had picked up on, explaining it to him, which did earn poor Mr. Willows a stern glare. Thinking of it, it was always that way, whenever Mr. Willows ventured a few unasked for words, or opinions.

The longer he worked for people, the less he understood them. Here was her husband, obviously not allowed a single original thought, while he, the hired help, seemed to have more privileges. Somehow he didn't think Mr. Willows got free run of anywhere, in the house, or out. He felt a bit sad for him, but that was the extent of it, though lately he had noticed how much more often, the lace curtains were fluttering.

Maybe the old guy was one of those closet queens, that had married out of necessity, and who knows, maybe she knew it too? Stranger things had been done, in an effort to hide one's sexual preferences, though these days, he didn't understand why they still kept hiding.

He had a few friends like that, but while they didn't like to broadcast their sexuality, get them into a totally gay environment, and man did they let loose. Must be all that pent up frustration, that made them so, well, obviously gay when among other gays.

Trisha was one of those, but the worse had been Sam. Talk about being a real flamer. The guy talked in such a shrill voice, yet if you were to meet him on the street, you'd swear he was some bass singer in opera. He had such a deep rich voice, outside of gay bars and parties.

Maybe Sam was an exception to the rule. The guy certainly was a sex-a-holic when out with other gay men, in a gay surrounding, yet put him in a straight situation, like at a sports bar, or restaurant, and you'd swear the guy was straight. Not just the change in voice, but his mannerisms as well.

He could talk about football, baseball, like an expert, and girls, you would think he had either had lots of female dates, or had memorized some medical dictionary. He could talk about tits and vagina's like any straight guy, but then he would drool when talking about uncut dicks.

One reason Jesse had never take Sam up on his offer to 'get it on' was his split personality. He just didn't know, if he was or wasn't, or what the end result would be. Though from what he had heard, Sam knew how to please a guy. Still it wasn't his thing, and honestly, not much was.

Maybe he was indeed 'older than his years' as one of his friends had told him, in a drunken fight they had, years ago. He still saw the guy, but their friendship had suffered a bit. He just never wanted wild sex, just once. That really was his problem, because he wanted it often, when he could get it. His problem was, not many could satisfy him that way, though his own imagination could.

Thinking about it all, he felt the hunger pains in his belly, as he also felt the need for a quick wank. It was like some strange ritual for him, but whenever he craved food, he also craved a bit of a pull. Call it weird, but he did enjoy having a full stomach, and laying back and giving his dick a bit of a pull. Not always to orgasm, which he liked to save till before bed, but he liked to stroke himself, to get himself close, and then stop.

In his mind, he rather thought it helped him be more awake, more passionate about whatever he was doing, whether pruning a tree, or organizing some bedding plants. Maybe other's wouldn't understand it, but then, he really didn't care what 'others' thought. He was his own man, and as he made his way long the cobblestone pathway to the kitchen door, he hoped that Mrs. Willows had gotten more of that sliced meat.

He also wondered if he'd ever understand people like the Willows. They were the type who obviously had money, yet didn't laud it over people. She was precise in her desires, and he could see her directing poor Mr. Willow into position for sex too, which made him grin.

The idea of those two engaging in sex had to be like watching some bizarre Broadway play. Her coolly giving him directions, how to move, what to touch, when to penetrate her, was how he saw them acting. Still in some ways, he was rather like that too, in that he wasn't afraid to tell his partners what he liked. Difference was, he didn't give them instructions, not like he imagined she did for poor Mr. Willows.

Entering the big kitchen, he called out, announcing his presence into the house. He thought he heard a door close, but other than that, nothing. Typical of them, as he had yet to ever get a reply, still it was all part of the normal routine.

As he rummaged through the big double door refrigerator, he wondered how two rather thin people could have such a well stocked larder. The inside was always well stocked, with packaged meats, to fresh foods that always seemed to change. It was convenient for him, because the selection was a damn site better than his own refrigerator.

His eyes lit up as he saw a nice tasty treat, and as he began to gather the goodies up, he also started thinking of where he'd go to enjoy his snack. The back area had many secluded spots, where he could munch on his lunch, and give himself a few good strokes.

There was the little spot behind the small group of bushes, just before the little stream, or maybe where the two Oak Trees stood. They really were one tree, that had somehow split into two a bit up from the one massive trunk. The thick trunk could hide two of him, and the heavy foliage was ideal for preventing anyone from seeing him, from the back of the house.

It also gave him good warning, of anyone approaching. One critical criteria in selecting a spot. He grinned as he pulled back from the refrigerator, his hands laden with taste treats. Using his knee, he pushed the door closed, and as he turned, his whole body stiffened.

The image of the man, standing there, staring, shocked him, and his hands shook, as a few packages rocked and slipped to the floor in a loud slapping sound. His mouth was open, because it was Mr. Willow, but he was dressed in nothing but a rather expensive looking housecoat.

'That looks tasty.'

Jesse saw how his eyes were not staring at the collection of goodies in his hands, but was aimed right at his crotch. He felt his face turning a bit red, feeling flustered as he stammered out a short mumbled affirmative.

'I wouldn't mind a taste, it does look good.'

It wasn't just what he said, or that he was staring directly at Jesse's crotch, that made him begin to sweat, but how he said it. How he licked his lower lip as he said how good it looked. There was no mistaking his real intent, which made Jesse nervous.

'Uh, yeah, I can, I can make you one, if you would like.'

'Oh, I would indeed enjoy a taste. I so rarely get to sample such delightful things. Margaret really does keep me from enjoying such simple pleasures.'

Jesse really didn't know what to reply. He was feeling the sexual innuendo, feeling the older man's eyes still fixed to his crotch, as he bent over, picking up the dropped packages. As he turned, to place them on the counter, he couldn't help but hear the man sucking in his breath, as he stared at Jesse's butt.

It was flattering, but also he sensed dangerous. He didn't know why, precisely, but he thought he was about to get in over his head, as he laid out the food, and began to make enough for two. He could feel the eyes following his every movement, mostly how his hips and buttocks moved, as he quickly put together two sandwiches.

Jesse knew it was risky, but the old guy interested him. There was no doubt he had nothing on under his rope, and it also was obvious that he was excited. He had no idea how old he really was, but somehow his own body seemed interested. Least the stiffening of his own dick seemed to be saying as much.

He nearly sliced his finger, as he cut the sandwiches in half, his mind distracted by the idea of the old guy and him. At the same time, he couldn't help but feel a bit worried. The idea of him and old man Willows, was one thing. The possibility of being caught by Mrs. Willows, was something he really didn't want to even imagine, let alone incur.

'You know, Margaret has gone to her garden club meeting, she won't be back for hours.'

He had said it so softly, and it was almost as if he had been reading Jesse's mind. He had been thinking of where she was, at what would happen if she had caught him and Mr. Willow.

Finishing the sandwiches off, he turned around, noticing that Mr. Willows had moved in closer. He could smell a hint of cologne, that reminded him of his father. It was Old Spice, which made him relax, just a bit. It was familiar, but as he handed the plate to Mr. Willows, he was once more suddenly on edge.

'It is so nice out, why don't we take these out, to the old Oak Tree by the stream. Makes a nice spot for a bit of a picnic, don't you think?'

The way the man was looking at him, taking the plate but staring directly at Jesse's crotch, left no doubt in his mind, that he was being propositioned. Strange, he had always thought the old guy was Queer, but now he knew for certain. He was hesitant, as he thought it over.

He liked the job, and if Mrs. Willow ever found out, he'd be toast. Still, the idea of having a helping hand or so, wasn't exactly displeasing. Okay, so they guy was old, he didn't look it. His body was lean, his face was rather kind looking, and well, he did feel rather sorry for the guy. After all, he was married to her.

'Okay, why not? I could use a break.'

'Really? Oh that would be so nice. I do so enjoy a change from routine, don't you?'

'Yeah, I guess, but I really don't have a lot of time.'

'Oh I am sure it won't take long, you'll have plenty of time to finish the bedding plants, besides I'd say you are almost done now.'

There was no slipping past this guy. He might be old, but his mind was obviously very sharp, and he was certainly horny. As he grabbed his plate, and headed to the door, he couldn't help but notice how loose the robe was bound, nor how aroused the older man was. He could see the head, poking out a little, as the man quickly took his plate and began to follow Jesse. How his eyes were staring at the firm buttocks, at how they seemed to sparkle with excitement.

In a sense, it felt flattering, pushing down his anxiety about the whole thing. He still wasn't all that certain about what would happen, or if anything but having a little lunch, would happen, but it was feeling rather nice. The idea of an older man touching him, or him touching the older guy didn't repulse him, as so many of his friends would feel. For his own part, Jesse really didn't care much about age, just as long as the sex was good. Not like he had a ton of experience with guys Mr. Willows' age, but close enough.

They had given him some surprising moments too, as they seemed more intent on enjoying every second of being with another man, especially one much younger than themselves. Still, he wasn't so sure about Mr. Willows, as well, he may look in good shape, you never really knew.

The walk down the back area, towards the Oaks was more or less silent, though he could feel the excitement growing. Then too, he could feel Mr. Willows' eyes focused intently on him. It did feel good, he had to admit, as they reached the tree, and sat down to stare out the stream.

Mr. Willows took his eyes off Jesse to gaze out, then turned his head to look right at Jesse. His gaze was directed at the full package, and his plate was off to one side, as he just stared. The odd flick of his tongue betrayed his calm appearance, that made Jesse smile a bit, as he took a bite from the sandwich.

Turning to his older companion, he smiled, asking if he wasn't hungry. The reply made him choke a bit, as he realized Mr. Willows was not exactly the bashful man he had thought.

Collecting his thoughts, he managed to swallow what was in his mouth, and put the sandwich down. There was no need to guess, as he smiled at Mr. Willows.

'You don't waste time do you Mr. Willows?'

'I am 72 years old, young man, I don't have time to play parlour games. Never had the opportunity when in the Service, or when I went into Private Life, and since retiring, well, being my age, one simply can't afford to, whether one has the desire to, or not.'

'I guess, so uh, you certainly do know what you want.'

'Oh I do, and frankly, I have hope for much more, but for now, well, I know how you younger people are, so for now, that will do just nicely, if you are so inclined to oblige and old man, and your employer.'

The last words were said softly, but they had that hint of menace that was unmistakable. He felt a bit angry at that, yet the man had such a nice smile on his face, as he had said it, that Jesse couldn't help but just want to ignore the implied threat. Mr. Willows hadn't needed to threaten him, as he was quite willing to do as he had asked. Mind you, he had expected a bit more, still, the implied threat did rather excite him too.

Maybe it added to the whole thing, but he couldn't help but feel attracted to the older man, who sat next to him in an expensive housecoat, totally nude underneath. Jesse could see his dick too, as it tented the one side of the robe, and it did rather turn him on. Strange that, as he smiled at the man, and began to stare at the man's crotch.

His one hand, moved down to slowly rub at his own crotch, while his eyes looked directly at Mr. Willows groin. Jesse could feel the man's eyes on him, hear him suck in some air, as he moved his hand around his crotch, pushing at his rather thick bulge. Funny how hard he was, already, how he felt a dull ache between his buttocks, as he moved the hand up. The fingers playing with the waist, then popping the button of his jeans. Jesse heard him suck in his breath, holding it, while his fingers tugged the zipper, slowly pushing it down.

He moved his legs apart, slightly, as he let the pants open to expose his underwear. Jesse was wearing his boxer shorts, the light blue pair, that seemed to widen Mr. Willows' eyes while Jesse pushed the pants open a bit further.

Jesse closed his eyes, as his hand massaged the thick lump under his shorts. His chest ached a bit, as he let his fingers prod and push at his stiff dick, while his legs spread apart wider. The pants holding them from going too wide, as his hand moved under the shorts, to take hold of his throbbing pole. He heard the older man sucking in his breath, heard his panting breath as he continued to stroke his hard cock.

The fingers pulled at the foreskin, bringing his head out from underneath. He could feel it tighten, as his hand stroked the shaft, wiping the pre cum around the hot head. His own eyes felt the hot sun burning his face, the sound of the tree branches swaying filled his ears, as the hand moved slowly up and down.

He pulled the thick shaft out, hearing the quick intake, the short gasp of surprise, as he felt the waistband slide under his dick. Jesse pulled the cock upwards, until he felt his balls come free from beneath the shorts. Another quick gasp as he slowly stroked his cock. The oozing pre cum wiped over the thick head, as he leaned further back against the tree, just enjoying the warmth that surrounded him.

His body stiffen, as the strokes became a little faster, as his fist tightened its hold around the blood gorged shaft. The ache in his balls grew, as he let his mind free to enjoy the sensation of warmth and motion, that flowed upwards, from his dick. He was slowly going into that zone, as his body trembled a bit, when he heard the piercing cry. It was hers, as she called for Henry, which had to be Mr. Willows' first name.

Opening his eyes, he saw the look of terror on the man next to him, and then as his body came down from its natural high, he could hear the voice calling again, more insistent, more shrill as panic seized him.

Mr. Willows had a finger to his lips, and a sharp angry look to his face, as he stood up. He indicated that Jesse was to stay as he stepped out from behind the tree trunk, tightening his rope around his thin frame. Slowly he made his way up from the little stream, answering the shrill voice as he ambled along. Jesse noticed how old he looked, as he made his way to the house, and he waited.

Hearing the door close, the sound of voices were gone though he could hear the frantic beat of his heart. Jesse slowly tucked his semi erect penis, back into the shorts, zipping up his pants. He waited several minutes before he peered out from behind the trunk of the tree, making sure the coast was clear.

Gradually he managed to work his way back around, to the front, and once more concentrated on the bedding plants. The panic in his heart slowly went away, as the afternoon wore on. He didn't know what else to do, but felt relieve at narrowly escaping detection from Mrs. Willows. Still, the feeling he had, of Mr Willows enjoyment watching him stroking kept coming lingering. He knew that when he got home, he'd have one hot session. Too bad that Mr. Willows wouldn't be there to see it, as he began to pack up his tools.

As he did, he noticed the lace curtains flutter from the main bay window. Somehow, he knew that it was Mr. Willows, and couldn't help himself. He stretched his arms outwards, pushing his hips forward a bit more than normal, feeling rather horny. The curtains moved a bit more, as he finished his stretch, and somehow, he just knew there would be a second try. He also began to wonder, what Mr. Willows had meant, when he said he wanted more.