Life goes on…
Zeke looked up from the Accord he was doing a routine service to the first bay. A Town Car sat silent, hood popped open but raised. It looked forlorn without Buddy there to work on it. Buddy had retired, his last day the previous Friday, and sometime over the weekend Zeke knew Buddy and his wife left Haines Junction for south Florida. TJ was in the office on the phone and once finished, would come out and do the service on the Town Car.
Zeke wondered how long TJ could operate with just the three of them. Steve was good, but not as good as Buddy had been and the two of them could never keep up with the workload. He wished Oliver liked to work on cars. He knew it was a foolish idea for Oliver was doing what he liked on the farm near Lincoln across the Ocmulgee River. It was a thirty-minute drive, one that had at times seemed twice as long.
Oliver rented a small one-bedroom apartment on the east side of town that allowed him to drive out to 319 eastwards until he could pick up 31 and cross the river to the small community of Lincoln where the family’s barn and produce stand were located. It had been three months since Oliver moved to Haines Junction and started his new job. Three months of them dating and having many in the small town stare at them and gossip behind their backs. Zeke thought he would be more worried about it, but Oliver didn’t care, ignoring the stares and crass comments, and Zeke found it easy for him to do too. Oliver gave him the strength to face those that judged him.
Looking over at the Town Car waiting for service, he recalled what Buddy had told him just before he left for the final time. Zeke, you have to live your life. It was something obvious but to hear it reinforced the importance of it. He looked back at Steve hoisting an early 80s Cadillac to do a brake job.
TJ came out of the office, moving to the front of the Town Car, raising the hood. Zeke looked over seeing TJ staring at the engine as if it were some alien technology.
“Is something the matter?” said Zeke.
“Huh? Oh, no, Zeke, I was just thinking about Buddy should be doing this not me.” The tone was jovial, but the expression told a different story.
“Yeah,” Zeke replied, turning back to the Accord to put oil in it. As he filled the engine, he glanced over and saw TJ bent over the front of the Town Car loosening the alternator to remove it. “Have you received any replies to your ad for a new mechanic?”
TJ worked the socket wrench quickly, wasting no time. Without looking up he replied. “Yes, a few. A guy is coming in tomorrow to talk.”
“Do you think he will be a good fit?”
Zeke didn’t need to say what he was thinking. He was worried about someone coming on board who was homophobic, someone who would cause him trouble. TJ stood up and looked over.
“Zeke, don’t worry. The guy is young, fresh out of a program of a community college in Dothan, no that’s not right. It’s Enterprise.”
“Alabama?”
“Yes. His dad has a shop in Abbeville.”
“He’s not going to work with his dad?”
“Evidently not. I didn’t ask. I figure it is best to leave any family issues alone.”
Zeke nodded and turned back to the Accord, knowing the truth of it, for TJ had not once made any derogatory comments about Oliver or asked anything other than how he is and is the farm position good. Never anything personal. And the guy coming in was young, meaning he could be less homophobic than someone older, but then again, there were his classmates who called him faggot every chance they got.
“Dammit,” TJ exclaimed.
“What is it?” said Zeke as he closed the hood on the Accord.
“The parts store sent the wrong alternator. This is for a Ford Crown Vic, not a Lincoln.”
“You need me to run and exchange it?”
“You know what; it’s almost noon. Let’s lock up and go get lunch at the Hamburger Shack, then go by the parts store and exchange it. Steve, are you up for lunch?”
“Sorry TJ, I’m meeting Linda for lunch,” said Steve, referring to his wife.
“Zeke, it’s just the two of us,” said TJ.
“Sounds good. I’ll call the auto parts store when we’re on our way to have it ready for us. Which model is that?”
“09 model year with the 4.6-liter V-8.”
TJ sat opposite Zeke, their drinks setting before them waiting on their food. They had arrived early enough to beat the usual lunch crowd, seeing people gathered at the front ready to be seated.
“It’s really strange not to have Buddy around, isn’t it,” said TJ.
“Yes. I keep looking for him in the shop.”
“Well, things change and, in a few weeks, hopefully we’ll be back to normal and Buddy will be just good memories.”
“There’s that faggot, Zeke…” someone said while walking past and Zeke and TJ looked up at the same time to see who had said it.
Zeke saw it was someone from his class, he felt his face flush with embarrassment.
“Zeke, forget it,” said TJ.
Zeke looked at TJ as he exhaled heavily then nodded in agreement.
“It’s just hard sometimes, you know. Some never letting it go.”
“I have no idea what it is like for you, but I trust things are better now.”
Zeke smiled, knowing TJ was referring to Oliver. “Much better.”
“Gentlemen, your order,” said Kathy, one of the waitresses. She had been a year ahead of Zeke. “Zeke, how’s it going?”
“Good. And you? I heard you got married.”
“Yes, I’m a Johnson now,” she replied, smiling back.
“He’s from Tifton?”
“Yes. I heard you are finally seeing someone.”
“I…yeah, I am.”
Kathy smiled. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I know how some are talking. But I hope you’re happy. Everyone deserves some happiness in this life. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to it. Let me know if you need anything.”
As Kathy walked toward the kitchen, Zeke turned back to TJ seeing him smiling. “See, not everyone is an asshole,” said TJ. “Now, let’s eat so we can get that part and back to the shop.”
Dinner and a movie…
Zeke was in the kitchen chopping carrots for the salad when Oliver came in the back door. Zeke turned to say hello and gasped. “What happened to you?”
“I fell and cut my arm on a piece of rusted metal,” said Oliver, his left arm bandaged from the elbow to the wrist.
“Oh no, sit down, sit,” said Zeke moving to him. “Does it hurt?”
“Some but I’m on some really good pain killers.” Oliver grinned from ear to ear and Zeke wondered just how good those pain killers were.
“I’ll get dinner finished and we can eat. You probably need to get home and rest.”
“Can I stay here tonight?”
Zeke smiled. “Yes, of course. I’d like that.”
Zeke got dinner finished and on the table. He relished every evening he could spend with Oliver. The sense of normalcy, making dinner and then sitting around the table talking about their day.
“What do you know about the guy coming in tomorrow to talk to TJ?”
“Not much. His dad has a shop in Abbeville, Alabama, and he just finished courses at some community college.”
“Sounds like a perfect candidate.”
“I hope. We’re slammed with work.”
“People just trying to keep their old cars running a little longer.”
“Can you blame them; have you seen what a pickup truck cost?”
“As long as the Highboy runs, I’m not looking,” joked Oliver. “And you have to keep it running for me,” he added in all seriousness.
Dishes drying in the rack, Zeke sat next to Oliver on the sofa. Oliver had a movie loaded in the old DVD player; one they had watched before. He knew it would be predictable, something comforting for the two of them.
Oliver hit play and the movie began, the opening scene unfolding on the screen. They settled next to each other, feet propped on the coffee table, ready for the movie to take them to another place.
When the final credits rolled across the screen, Zeke was on his knees between Oliver’s legs sucking his cock. He wanted to pleasure Oliver, show him in some physical gesture how much he loved him. He hadn’t been able to say it yet, but he could show him.
He moved his mouth on the cock, up and down its length. Oliver moaned with pleasure as he tongued the shaft, then the head. It made Oliver shiver with the manipulation. He stroked it while licking the balls as they drew up tight in their sack.
“Fuck; Zeke!” Oliver exclaimed.
Zeke moved back to the cock, burying it in his mouth. He sucked until spit dripped from his chin, then he stood up. Cargo shorts and boxers fell to his ankles and his cock stood out fully erect. “I’ll be careful, but let me,” he uttered as he gently straddled Oliver. His cock pushed against the chest as he got into position. He held Oliver’s cock and eased his ass down to it. He rocked back and forth, rubbing his ass over the wet head until he felt Oliver push upward. Then he eased down, ass stretching to take it. He felt the head slip into him, and he held still adjusting to the penetration.
“Zeke,” Oliver whispered. He leaned forward and kissed Zeke on the neck then down the chest visible to him with the unbuttoned shirt.
Zeke felt the warm kisses, and he tilted his head back and sank the cock deeper into his ass. Then he began to move on it. Up. Down. Over and over, slowly building up his pace. Hands came to his waist, gently holding him as he fucked his ass on the cock.
“Zeke,” Oliver uttered.
Zeke increased his pace, his arousal pushing him. A need for release drew near very quickly. He wanted to Oliver to come inside him, to put a load into his ass, and he moved on the cock to get him off, knowing he would come soon.
“Keep going. Don’t stop,” uttered Oliver.
“Come for me. Come inside me,” said Zeke as he moved on Oliver’s cock.
Oliver pushed back against the sofa while shoving upward as Zeke moved down on the spurting cock. He took his own cock and stroked it with urgency. As Oliver tried to push upward, he sat on the cock stroking his own. His release built quickly and he leaned back and roped cum up Oliver’s chest.
It was unusual to Zeke. Normally when in bed, Oliver held him, but on this night, it was the other way around with him gently holding Oliver. He felt the body relaxed, then the breathing changed, and knew Oliver had drifted off to sleep. For a time, he enjoyed listening to the soft breathing and the comfort in holding him. Was this what it was like for Oliver, he wondered as his eyelids grew heavy.
A New Day at the shop…
Zeke had Thomas Gibson’s Tahoe in the bay, hood up, running diagnostics to determine why it was going dead at times. Thomas Gibson said when idling at an intersection, sometimes it just shut off. He stood by the fender in lieu of in front of it so he could keep a watch out front. The guy coming to talk to TJ was due to arrive any minute and his curiosity was getting to him. He worried the guy would be like most of his classmates. He could picture the guy calling him a faggot in the shop whenever they crossed paths. It would make the job miserable, and he would end up searching for a job elsewhere.
An old Cherokee pulled up, parking in front of the office. It had a lift kit on it and all-terrain tires. There was a cargo rack on top with the spare tire mounted in the middle of it. The driver’s door swung open and Zeke moved to the back of the Tahoe and watched the driver climb out.
The guy moved around the rear of the Cherokee, nodded at Zeke, and entered the office. Zeke had sized him up trying to get the measure of him. He looked like he was about five foot seven or eight with an average build. But what stood out the most was the red hair visible around the ballcap.
Back at the front of the Tahoe, the read-out indicated a sensor on the fuel system wasn’t working properly. He made a note of it and headed to the office to tell TJ so they could do an estimate and call Thomas Gibson.
He entered the office to find TJ and the guy sitting in the small waiting area, TJ in the side chair, the guy on the sofa. They laughed at something said as he came behind the counter.
“Did you figure out what is wrong with the Tahoe?” said TJ upon seeing him.
“Yes, it’s that fuel sensor you suspected. I’ll hop on that Malibu while you guys talk.”
“Thanks, Zeke.”
Zeke saw the guy look his way, green eyes sizing him up. He knew the guy wondered if they would be working side by side. He didn’t linger, grabbed the keys to the grey Malibu and headed out. He would put it in the first bay and leave the Tahoe in the last one. Steve was in the middle bay doing a brake job on Sam Iverson’s Toyota.
Zeke finished the Malibu and pulled it back into the parking lot. He headed inside to get the keys to the Explorer that needed brakes. As he entered the office TJ was behind the counter and the guy leaning on it from the front side.
“I just need the keys to the Explorer,” said Zeke as he came up behind TJ.
“You’re finished with Malibu?” said TJ.
“Yep, and when you’re finished up, I’ll bring my notes to you,” Zeke replied as he took down the keys for the Explorer.
“Before you go, let me introduce you to Woodrow McGraw. He’ll be starting on Thursday.”
“Call me Woody,” holding out a hand to shake.
“Zeke; nice to meet you and finally get some help around here,” he joked, taking the offered hand. I hope so, anyway, he thought, as they shook. “Well, I better get back to it. TJ, let me know what Mr. Gibson says about the Tahoe.”
“He’s going to repair it. He doesn’t have a choice since he doesn’t want to trade it yet. I’ll call and let him know the cost and get his approval but get ready to replace the sensor.”
“Okay,” Zeke replied as he headed back to the shop.
A few minutes later, Zeke saw Woody cross the parking lot to his old Cherokee. He wondered what Woody was really like. He got the sense Woody would be agreeable; someone he could work with in the shop. He hoped that was the case, turning to get back to the Explorer.
Zeke grabbed a shopping cart and pushed it into the produce area, Oliver by his side. They were out of some things and wanted to get the ingredients for chili, the two of them hungry for a pot of it. They moved around the display fixtures picking up the items they needed.
“So, this Woody fellow starts on Thursday,” said Oliver.
“Yep.”
“You think you will get along?”
It was obvious what Oliver was referring to. Zeke looked over and shrugged. He turned back to the peppers picking out those he wanted, ignoring the look from Helen Baker who pushed a shopping cart past them.
“How old is he?” said Oliver.
“I think he’s twenty. TJ said he did a two-year program at the community college.”
They moved out of the produce area, heading down the aisle for condiments.
“Is he married?” said Oliver.
Oliver was drilling down to the fundamental issue. Is Woody straight and married and therefore would probably view a gay guy in a very negative light.
“I don’t think so. There was no ring, but it wasn’t brought up.”
They got to the end of the aisle and swung along the back wall for hamburger meat. Oliver picked up a pack and put it in the shopping cart. They cut back into the next aisle.
“We need flour and sugar,” said Zeke.
“We’re low on salt, so let’s grab some,” said Oliver as he picked up a bag of flour.
They made their way across the grocery store until moving down the last aisle, getting butter and cheese. Back at the front, they got into a line behind a young woman with two kids. The youngest child stared at them until the mother told them it was rude and to stop. She looked back apologizing, then moved up and started to unload her shopping cart.
“When we finish here, we need to swing by the drugstore. The doctor sent a prescription for me to pick up,” said Oliver.
“Okay,” Zeke replied as he set the yellow till divider behind the woman’s items and started putting their items on the conveyor belt.
The drug store sat at the corner of Main Street and Third in a building that had always been a drug store since its construction in 1929. For the last eight years it had been operated by Jessica Sheffield, Kathy Johnson’ mother. She had bought it from Terry Gilmore when he was ready to retire after operating the drug store for over thirty years.
Zeke maneuvered into a space in front, and they got out and crossed the sidewalk entering the drug store. The bell attached to the door rang and everyone inside looked over to see who was entering. Most frowned upon seeing Zeke and Oliver but Jessica smiled from behind the counter of the pharmacy located behind the checkout counter, the areas positioned on the left side of the store with the sales area extending across the front along the right side. Keith, Kathy’s brother, came out of the back and nodded a greeting toward them then began to ring up Cheryl Wilson.
“Who’s that?” said Oliver.
“That is Kathy’s brother. He was in college, but I guess he has finished,” said Zeke as they came up behind Cheryl. Zeke knew Oliver was curious about a guy as attractive as Keith. He had once been curious too, knowing there was no way someone like Keith would have anything to do with him. There was four years between them, an eon in grade school. He looked at the older, more mature man, about five-foot eleven with a muscular build. Like Kathy, Keith had dark brown hair and blue eyes, a trait inherited from their mother.
“Hey Zeke, and you must be Oliver,” said Keith as Cheryl moved away with her purchase.
“Yes,” Oliver replied.
“Hey Keith,” said Zeke. “Did you finish college?”
“Yes, so now I’m working full time with mom.”
“I’m surprised you came back. I figured you would go somewhere bigger with more to do.”
“I thought about it, but when I kept waffling mom told me how well she was doing and said I could come back. She wants to retire early and make dad take her traveling. So, what do you guys need?”
“I have a prescription for my allergy meds,” said Oliver holding out the prescription.
“You want to wait? It’ll only take a few minutes.”
“We can wait,” said Zeke.
Keith carried the prescription to the pharmacy area and began to fill it himself as his mother kept working on other orders.
“We saw Kathy the other day. I hadn’t known she was married,” said Zeke as he browsed the greeting cards.
“Brad Johnson; he’s from Tifton. I played against him when in high school.”
Zeke knew Keith played baseball in middle and high school. “He’s your age?”
“No, he is two years younger and just one more than Kathy.”
“She seems happy.”
“She better be happy, or I’ll go kick his ass.”
“Keith,” said Jessica without looking up.
“Sorry,” Keith replied, smiling at Zeke and Oliver, giving them a wink.
Keith came back to the register and rang up the prescription. As Oliver used his debit card to pay, Keith kept looking at Zeke then over at Oliver. The reader cleared the charge, and Keith slid the small white bag across the counter. “Thanks guys,” said Keith.
“Thank you,” said Oliver as he picked it up.
Zeke and Oliver turned to leave.
“Hey guys,” said Keith.’
“Yes?” said Zeke.
“I was wondering…would you guys like to go for bar-be-cue one afternoon?”
“Huh?” Zeke replied.
“We’d like that,” said Oliver. He sensed it; how Keith wanted to talk to them. “When would be good for you?”
“Today works for me. I get off at six and could meet you guys there.”
“Okay,” said Oliver.
“Great,” said Keith.
Zeke and Oliver entered the restaurant a few minutes before six, knowing Keith wouldn’t arrive for ten minutes or so, the time it took to close the store and drive over. They checked in with the hostess and took a seat on one of the benches in the small foyer area to wait.
“Are you sure?” said Zeke. He was still questioning what Oliver had said when they left the drugstore.
“99% positive,” said Oliver.
“But you’re not 100%.”
“Never be sure if someone is gay or straight until they demonstrate which it is.”
“But not what they tell you?” joked Zeke.
“You know what it’s like, so yes, for a lot of guys will lie about it.”
Zeke looked out in time to see Keith drive past in his 4Runner looking for a place to park. “He’s here.”
As they waited for Keith to enter, a Cherokee pulled into the parking lot, taking a space just vacated. Zeke watched as the driver’s door swung open and Woody came strolling toward the door. “There’s Woody,” he uttered, more to himself than to Oliver.
“I see him. Is he eating alone?”
“I don’t know. He can’t be made many friends in town.”
Keith came to the door in time to open it for Woody, who entered before him.
“Hey Zeke,” said Woody.
“Woody,” said Zeke.
“Hey Keith,” said Oliver, Zeke and he coming to their feet.
“You know each other?” said Keith, looking at Woody.
“He just started at the shop,” said Zeke.
“Who are you meeting?” said Oliver to Woody.
“Oh, I’m by myself,” said Woody.
Oliver saw it, the way Keith looked at Woody, and he wondered if it was advisable to invite Woody to join them. Then Keith resolved the conundrum for him.
“Would you like to join us?” said Keith.
“I won’t be imposing?” said Woody.
“No, we’re just catching up since I got back.”
“Where were you?”
“College, getting a degree in pharmacy.”
“Is it three or four for dinner?” asked the hostess as she came up to them.
“It’s four,” said Oliver.
“This way,” she replied, leading the four of them across the dining room.
Zeke noticed the judgmental stares and frowns as they crossed the room, and he worried about how Woody and Keith would react if confronted with being seen with him and Oliver.
“Is it like this all the time for you?” whispered Keith, coming up close to Zeke.
“Yes. All the fucking time. Are you sure you want to be seen with us?” said Zeke giving Keith an opportunity to bail on dinner.
“Yes,” said Keith.
Zeke smiled at how Keith seemed undisturbed by the stares. He glanced over at Woody wondering if he had any realization of the situation, seeing him and Oliver talking about something that was making them smile.
The hostess led them to a booth in the back dining room, one in the rear corner, and Zeke was relieved to see it would provide privacy and the ability to ignore the stares of anyone in the room that disproved of Oliver and him.
As the waiter took their drink order, brought the drinks, then took their food orders, they talked about mundane aspects of their lives as a way of getting to know each other. Their food arrived and Zeke knew they had been skirting the issue of his relationship with Oliver. He could see questioning looks from Woody and Keith acting like he wanted to ask about it.
Zeke knew sooner or later Woody was going to find out. Someone in town would tell him, make some derogatory comment about him working with a faggot. Keith had to know, and it made him wonder if Oliver was right. Why else would he risk being seen with them.
“Oliver, how has it been getting settled here and…being with Zeke?” said Keith.
Keith had put the issue before them and Zeke noticed the questioning stare of Woody and the look from Oliver that told him it was time.
“Can we clear the air?” said Zeke.
“Yes,” said Keith smiling.
“Woody,” said Zeke, getting his attention. “You’re going to find out sooner or later, so it might as well be now. I’m gay and Oliver and I are in a relationship.” He turned to Keith. “And I think you knew that already.”
“Yes,” Keith replied.
Zeke never looked at Keith, he kept his eyes on Woody to see how he was going to react. At first there was a surprised look, then a slow smile formed.
“So, it’s true,” said Woody.
“You’ve already heard?” said Oliver.
“Yes, from my landlord and someone in the grocery store. They told me to steer clear of you.”
“But you joined us for dinner.”
“Are you gay?” said Keith.
For a long second the table was quiet. Zeke and Oliver looked from Woody to Keith, who stared at Woody waiting on a response.
“Keith. I don’t think you should be asking—” said Zeke, until interrupted by Woody.
“Yes. Are you?”
Keith smiled and sat back, relaxing his posture. “I’m surprised my sister could keep it a secret, but yes.”
Silence. A few seconds of complete silence, then Keith and Woody began to laugh, followed by Oliver and Zeke.
“That is why Kathy seemed so friendly toward us,” said Zeke.
“She wanted to acknowledge you guys but was afraid if she talked about you, she would fuck up and out me,” said Keith.
Until finished with dinner, the four talked about what it was like, Oliver telling of his move to the region and Zeke talking about being outed in high school. Keith told them of his coming out in college in his sophomore year and nearly moving to Denver with a boyfriend who broke up with him before he committed to the move. Woody told them of his being outed right after high school and his father still having issues with it, but they were talking through it.
And Oliver and Zeke saw how Woody and Keith talked differently to each other, at times suggesting dinner or going to a movie. There was another connection being made, and they enjoyed watching it unfold before them. It was reassuring to see other guys who were gay and coming together. They were not the only ones in town, and it gave them hope for a better life in the small town.
“We got this,” said Oliver, grabbing up the check, putting his card with it, and handing it back to the waiter.
“Thanks,” said Woody and Keith in unison.
Woody found himself following Keith across the parking lot, not realizing Keith was parked just a few spaces further down. He hoped it was because Keith wanted to talk to him, invite him to dinner one night, or maybe just hang out. He found Keith so attractive it was intimidating. Taller and more muscular, and friendly. Friendly enough to make him think there was a possibility.
“Hey, I was wondering…maybe if you wanted, we could, like—” Woody stammered, until Keith interrupted him.
“Go on a date? I’d like that.”
“Really?”
Keith laughed as Woody turned red in the face.
“Of course. I thought it was obvious I find you attractive.”
“What about tomorrow night?”
“It’s a date. I can come pick you up, say around seven. Where are you living?”
“I’m still living at home in Tifton. I haven’t moved into the apartment I signed a lease on. Why don’t I just meet you somewhere?”
“Come to my home and we can ride together. Give me your cell phone number and I’ll text you the address.”
Woody tried to control himself, but he grinned at having a date for the next night. It seemed impossible. To have met someone and have a date so quickly. A fairy tale by every measure he thought as he gave Keith his number.
Oliver followed Zeke through the back door into the kitchen. He pushed Zeke against the kitchen counter, pressing his body against him. He pushed against the ass until his cock stirred while kissing the back of the neck. He slipped the uninjured arm around the waist and held him tight as he moved around the neck to the ear.
“You want to fuck,” said Oliver in a playful tone.
“Yes,” Zeke replied breathlessly.
Zeke pushed Oliver back, took him by the hand, leading him to the bedroom.
Zeke stripped Oliver, touching and kissing each newly exposed flesh. He tongued the nipples, nipped at the skin of the stomach, and sucked the cock until it was fully erect. When he stood before him, his shirt was unbuttoned down the front and his jeans and boxers puddled around his ankles. His cock was half hard and it flexed when Oliver took it in hand. He let his shirt slide down his arms to the floor, then he guided Oliver to his bed.
Oliver sat against pillows stacked against the headboard and Zeke moved over his lap. Zeke rubbed his hardening cock across the chest, then he tapped it on the lips until Oliver went from smiling to holding his mouth open for it.
“Fuck,” uttered Zeke as he eased his cock into the mouth.
Zeke held still watching Oliver move on his cock until he was shivering from the manipulation, then he worked his hips slowly, sliding his cock through the lips held tightly around it. His arousal increased until he was breathless and struggling not to fuck harder, to shove his cock down Oliver’s throat. Instead he slipped his throbbing cock from the mouth and eased his ass down Oliver’s cock until it pressed against his tight hole.
Holding Oliver’s cock with one hand, he held Oliver’s shoulders with the other and let his weight carry him down. His opening stretched letting Oliver penetrate him. The head, then inch after inch of the shaft until he had over half of it, and he held still adjusting to the penetration.
“I love you. Do you know that?” said Zeke.
“Yes,” Oliver replied and he took the hand from his shoulder and kissed it.
Zeke eased down further on Oliver’s cock until seating fully on it. He hesitated only for a few seconds, then he moved on the cock. Upward, then down, over and over, working his ass on it until moving in a steady rhythm. His own cock rubbed slickly over the stomach, and it shuddered him, the fullness of penetration and his own cock rubbing against Oliver. He leaned back until resting on one hand and he worked his ass faster, slamming it down on Oliver’s cock as he took his own in hand and stroked it until his hand was a blur.
“Fuck. Zeke,” Oliver exclaimed.
“Do it. Come in me,” urged Zeke. He tilted his head back, slammed his ass down on Oliver’s cock, then shoved upward, thrusting his cock through his fist, and he came, cock ejaculating thick ropes of cum up his chest and stomach. As it spurts wad after wad, he slammed his ass back down on Oliver’s cock and ground down on it until he felt Oliver trying to push upward.
Oliver cried out and pushed his upper body against the headboard as he pumped cum into Zeke’s ass.
Date Night.
Woody followed Keith into the hotel, Keith not wanting to go back to his home and Woody still at his dad’s over in Tifton. Woody knew his dad was still struggling with him being gay and there was no way he would tolerate him bringing someone home. So, he followed Keith into the hotel where they would have a night alone.
Dinner had been perfect. More than he could have hoped. Keith talked of coming out in college and how his mother and sister had been so supportive and his dad coming around, admitting it had been more about not having grandchildren than Keith being gay. He talked about how he got outed to his dad, an innocent comment that gave him away. There had been arguments, at first so badly it led to him staying with his grandmother for a week, but over the last few months, things had been getting better.
They had just finished their meal when Keith asked if he would spend the night with him.
Keith secured the door as Woody moved into the room. He stood staring at the king-size bed feeling nervous and excited. Hands slipped around his waist. Lips touched the back of his neck, then moved to his right ear.
“I’m glad you wanted to be with me tonight,” Keith whispered.
Woody tilted his head to the side and back as lips moved along his neck and up the side of his face. The hands held him tight, then one moved up his stomach and over his chest. He reached back and put both of his hands on Keith’s thighs. They pushed against his hands until crotch pushed against his ass, and he moaned.
The hand on his chest moved down, over his stomach to his crotch. Fingers manipulated his cock, making its response increase. He pushed against the hand, then pressed his ass against the crotch. And he moaned and inhaled air as if short of breath.
Keith guided him to turn and they kissed. Keith worked the buttons of his shirt free and rubbed his bare chest and stomach, then slipped a hand into his jeans, behind his boxers, the fingers raking over bare skin, through his pubic hair, then along his growing cock.
“Fuck,” Woody uttered breathlessly.
Keith guided Woody to the bed to his back, and he took each leg by the ankle and dragged him playfully to the edge of the bed. He rubbed his cock alongside Woody’s cock and over the nuts, then he raked it across the ass.
“Fuck, do it. Fuck me,” said Woody.
Keith pushed through the tight opening and slowly, gently, sank halfway into the ass. He held still as Wood clutched at the bed and gasped for breath. After a minute, Woody looked up at him breathing hard through the mouth.
“Fuck me.”
Keith began to work his hips, the familiar push and tug of cock through the tight opening. He built up his pace, fucking faster and faster until hips were smacking noisily against ass. He fucked with wild abandoned unable to control himself. He wanted to fuck Woody until he came. He wanted to fuck him with every inch as fast as he could. He wanted this fuck to be physical, and he fucked until sweat ran in rivulets down his face and torso.
“Don’t stop. Keeping fucking…fuck…fuck…me harder,” Woody stammered.
And Keith kept fucking. Fucking as hard as he could. He fucked until he could no longer hold back, and he shoved into Woody’s depths and jerked and shuddered with his release.
Keith manhandled Woody on the bed until he was up at the head of it and he straddled the waist. He raked his dripping cock across the chest then down the stomach as he eased his ass down on Woody’s cock.
“Fuck; what are you doing?” said Woody.
“What does it look like,” Keith replied playfully as he eased down all the way on Woody’s cock. He worked his ass on the cock, then began to move upward until the head nearly slipped free, and he eased back down, all the way taking every inch. He fucked his ass on the cock until Woody was trying to push upward.
“You like being in my ass?” said Keith.
“Yes,” Woody replied breathlessly.
“Show me,” said Keith bearhugging their bodies together and rolling to his back. He had Woody between his legs and cock buried in his ass. “Come on Woody, fuck me. Fuck me as hard as you can.”
Woody fucked. Fucked hard. He slammed his cock into Keith’s ass. Every thrust inward had hips smacking against ass. It was too much, far too much stimulation after getting fucked himself, and he soon buried his cock inside Keith and kept trying to jam it deeper as he pumped out a load of cum.
They lay across the bed, quiet at times, then talking about their real desires and wants. They touched and kissed and caressed each other until fully erect and they fucked again. Keith sitting on Woody’s cock, then Woody folded beneath Keith, legs so tight to his chest it was hard to breathe as cock hammered his ass until filling it with another load of cum.
After showering away the sweat and cum, they collapsed in bed, sleeping until the next morning snuggled together.
Accusations.
Zeke came out of the large retail store that had everything under one roof. Clothing, electronics, garden center, toys, drugstore, and what he came for, the grocery section. He hated the place for its large size, how most of the things he came for were in the back, and how it had driven so many other retailers out of business. There were a few small grocery stores hanging on, but the traditional stores were long gone, the market now monopolized.
There were a few things needed for the cookout the next night that Oliver forgot to buy. A clove of garlic, coarse Kosher salt, and cream of mushroom for the broccoli casserole. He strolled through the nearly empty parking lot, for it was near eleven, the time the store would close for the night and a time when most were settled in for the night. Oliver had gone to the other side of the store to get a can of paint, telling him he would meet him out front since the store was broadcasting their closing over the speakers.
“Faggot!”
The voice was to his back and Zeke turned to see who had said it. It was Jordan Duncan. A year older and one of the bad boys of their school. He looked drunk or high; Zeke couldn’t tell for sure for the next thing he knew Jordan was charging toward him.
“Leave me alone!” Zeke exclaimed as he tried to back up.
Jordan was moving too fast and had caught him off guard. A fist came at him. He staggered back from two blows then fell because he blacked out for a second. He felt paralyzed, stunned by the attack.
“NO!”
It was Oliver’s voice. Zeke opened his eyes to see Oliver punch Jordan in the face knocking him to the ground, then Oliver was grabbing up the bag and taking his hand. “Come on, Zeke, let’s get out here.”
“Hold still,” Oliver said gently.
Zeke had winced and pulled back when the cotton swab touched his cheek where it had been bleeding.
“It stung more than I expected.”
“I’m almost finished,” Oliver whispered.
Zeke knew Oliver was whispering in an attempt to control his anger. He could see it in the face.
“Your eye is turning black,” said Oliver.
“My first black eye,” Zeke joked trying to calm him.
“It’s not funny. If I hadn’t been right behind you when that asshole jumped you…”
Oliver’s voice trailed off and Zeke knew he was thinking the worst. Thinking of all the stories of gay guys getting beat up so bad it put them in the hospital.
“Jordan always was an asshole to everyone,” said Zeke.
A knock on the door and Zeke looked at Oliver wondering who would be at his door at this hour. Oliver looked at the door, and it was obvious he was thinking the same.
“You expecting guests?” said Zeke in a humorous tone.
“No,” Oliver replied sharply as he stood and went to the door. He swung it open to reveal a sheriff in uniform standing at it.
“I’m Sheriff Bailey and we’ve had a compliant you assaulted someone—”
“I assaulted someone?” Oliver interrupted. He turned to Zeke. “Zeke, come here.”
The sheriff saw Zeke come to the door, a bandage on the cheek and the eye above turning blue. He exhaled heavily.
“I see,” said Sheriff Bailey.
“Do you?” Oliver replied sharply, his anger surfacing.
“Oliver,” said Zeke and Oliver visibly calmed. Zeke came into the door frame. “Jordan jumped me in the parking lot and Oliver happened to be close enough to stop him.”
The sheriff scratched his forehead, then looked at Zeke. “I’ve got a report I need to close out. Can you come down tomorrow and make a statement?”
“Zeke, they’ll lock you up if you go down there. They’ll never take your word over someone else,” said Oliver coming back to the door.
“That’s not true,” said Sheriff Bailey. “Zeke, we know Jordan Duncan and we’re not going to charge someone for defending themselves.”
“You believe me?” said Zeke.
The sheriff nodded. “Look, I know why it happened and what people say, but I’m just here to uphold the law; that’s all.”
“Can I come at lunch: we’re busy at the shop.”
“Why don’t I swing by the shop and get your statement. It won’t take long.”
“Thanks Sheriff. I’m there at eight.”
“I assume you’ll press charges against Jordan.”
“I…don’t know about that.”
“Zeke, do me a favor. This is not the first time I’ve dealt with him. Press charges and with his record we can put a stop to it.”
“You would do that?” said Oliver, sounding surprised.
“It is not my place to judge; it is my place to just enforce the law, but I think we can put Jordan Duncan behind bars for a hate crime,” Sheriff Bailey replied. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said to Zeke. He started to move away from the door and stopped. “Is it true Jessica Sheffield’s son is dating that new guy at your shop?”
“Yes, sir,” Zeke replied.
Sheriff Bailey chuckled shaking his head. “What do you know,” he uttered and walked away.
Oliver closed the front door and watched Zeke go to the sofa. Zeke suddenly felt exhausted and he dropped down on the sofa.
“Are you okay?” said Oliver.
“Yes. It’s just…I feel exhausted.”
“Everything is finally hitting you. Go on to bed and I’ll clean up out here and go home.”
“NO, don’t go. Stay with me.”
“Okay.”
Setting the Record Straight
Zeke pulled into the parking lot of the repair shop and climbed out his Chevy as Oliver pulled in next to him. Oliver had called his boss about having something come up and would in after lunch.
They entered the office to find TJ behind the counter looking at his monitor, knowing he was going through the day’s work log. It was constantly changing. Zeke had seen three cars in the parking lot that had been dropped sometime after they closed the day before.
“Good morning,” said Zeke.
“Good morning, TJ,” said Oliver.
“Good—” TJ looked up, surprised to see Oliver, then he looked upset when he saw Zeke’s black eye and bandaged cheek. “What happened to you?”
“We had gone to pick up a few things and when I came out before Oliver…Jordan Duncan jumped me in the parking lot.”
“What? Did you…never mind, I guess you did for there is Sheriff Bailey pulling in.”
“He wants a statement but I’m afraid it’s our word against Jordan’s,” said Oliver.
“What do you have to do with it.?”
“I punched him to get him to stop and pulled Zeke away. The bastard called the sheriff and said I jumped him.”
“But everyone around here knows Jordan is a thug.”
The door swung open and Sheriff Bailey came in carrying a notepad. “TJ, fellows, how is everyone this morning.”
“Sheriff, you don’t honestly think Oliver jumped that Duncan boy, do you?” said TJ.
“Everyone just relax a minute. I just need to get Zeke and Oliver’s statement and hopefully Zeke to sign a compliant.”
“You think I didn’t start it?” said Oliver.
Sheriff Bailey chuckled. “You people think all I do is ride around and write a few speeding tickets. I went to the store this morning when they first opened and got the security camera footage from the parking lot out front. That Duncan boy is a real dumbass for he chose to jump you where the camera was focused the best. He jumped you, then Oliver comes in to stop him and takes you away. Pretty open and shut case, I hope you pursue it,” looking at Zeke.
“I’ll sign a compliant. I’m sick of this shit,” said Zeke.
“I’m sure you have had enough, so let’s get the worst of it off the streets.”
Thirty minutes later, Sheriff Bailey and Oliver were pulling out of the parking lot. Zeke left the office, cut past the break area for a cup of coffee, then into the shop to find Steve and Woody waiting on him.
“What happened to you?” said Woody.
“Why was the Sheriff here?” said Steve.
“I…huh…got jumped by Jordan Duncan last night and the sheriff was here to finalize his report and get me to file a complaint.
“Jesus,” said Woody. “How did you fight him off?”
“That’s why Oliver was here, he did it,” said Steve, suddenly seeing the whole picture.
“Yes, and last night Jordan actually called the sheriff saying Oliver jumped him,” said Zeke. He smiled at the two guys.
“What?” said Steve.
“But he was caught on the security camera and the sheriff has it.”
Steve and Zeke laughed as Woody looked at them wondering what was so funny about being jumped.
Routines
TJ went into the shop to see Steve and Woody look his way wondering what was up. Zeke was bent over the front of an old F-250.
“How about we go for bar-be-cue for lunch. I think the shop can afford lunch.”
Steve smirked, shaking his head. “Sorry boss, I have to meet the wife, but thanks for the invite.”
“I can go,” said Woody, and he turned to look over at Zeke who wasn’t paying attention. “Zeke?”
“Yeah,” said Zeke from under the hood.
“We’re going for bar-be-cue. Let’s go wash up.”
Zeke stood and looked over, realizing TJ was waiting for his response. “Okay.”
The restaurant was busy, the wait staff rushing from table to table and people lined up waiting. TJ, Woody, and Zeke waited their turn talking about the vehicles they needed to get to that afternoon.
“Three for lunch?” said Emily, a girl from Zeke’s high school class. He saw how she looked at him. At first with disdain, then her expression changed. He had some of those in line give him a similar look and knew it was the black eye and bandage on his cheek.
“Yes,” said TJ.
“Follow me,” said Emily, and she headed across the dining room to a table near the back and set menus and a rolled napkin with utensils in three places. “Justin will be your waiter.”
They took a chair and sat down. Emily turned to head back to the hostess station, then she stopped and came back to the table next to Zeke.
“What happened to you?”
“What do you care,” said Zeke.
“Zeke,” said TJ.
Zeke knew TJ meant well but he was tired of the constant ridicule. Emily stood still waiting for his response.
“Jordan Duncan jumped me last night.”
“Did you press charges?” said Emily.
“Yes.”
She nodded. “Good.” Without waiting for Zeke to reply, she headed to the front.
Zeke looked at Woody and shrugged because it surprised him. He turned to TJ and saw him smile.
“A baby step in the right direction,” said TJ.
Zeke looked up to see Justin Walker approaching. They had been classmates, but never friends for Justin had been one of the jocks, popular and always hanging out his buddies, others on the football or baseball team and the girls that pursued them. Seeing him waiting tables confirmed Zeke’s impression that Justin got through high school with his popularity and now found himself struggling.
“I’ll be—” said Justin, coming to an abrupt stop. “He looked at Zeke and winced, then back to TJ and Woody. “I’ll be waiting on you; what can I get for you to drink.”
Justin brought them their drinks and took their order. As with Emily, he began to walk away and stopped, turning back to the table. “Did someone jump you?” he said to Zeke.
Zeke saw he didn’t look glad of it, instead had a look of concern, which troubled him for some reason. “Yes; Jordan jumped me last night.”
“He always was an asshole.”
“I figured you would have been glad he did it.”
“Zeke,” said TJ.
Zeke looked down trying not to let his frustration show. He looked up when he realized Justin was still there.
“I guess I deserved that,” said Justin and he turned heading back to the kitchen.
“He looked sorry about you getting jumped,” said Woody.
“Maybe,” said Zeke.
Justin brought their food, refilled their glasses, and when they had finished, brought the check to TJ. TJ looked at it, seeing it was for only two meals, then up at Justin.
“Is there something wrong?” said Justin, looking uneasy.
“No, nothing is wrong,” said TJ. He laid his debit card on the tray with the check and handed it back to him.
Coming out of the restaurant, TJ fell in next to Zeke as they crossed the parking lot heading to his Tahoe. “That boy only charged us for two meals.”
“What?” said Zeke.
“I think it was a small gesture to say he was sorry.”
“I doubt that.”
“Whatever,” said TJ, knowing he had to let Zeke think upon it.
It was midafternoon and everyone was focused on the vehicle they were repairing or doing maintenance. No one saw the black Mercedes pull into the parking lot parking near the street in the first space, nor the man in a dark grey suit walk to the office.
TJ came into the shop.
“Zeke!”
“Yes, sir,” Zeke replied, climbing out of a Dodge he had been replacing fuses beneath the dash.
“There’s someone here to see you.”
Zeke entered the office to see a man in his late forties, maybe early fifties, hair turning grey, wearing a simple grey suit, white shirt and a patterned red tie. He looked at him wondering what he wanted.
“I’m Everett Allison, an attorney with a group who pursue hate crime cases. The sheriff said we should talk.”
“Yeah…okay.”
Zeke arrived home to find Oliver getting out of his truck.
“Hey, you just get here?”
“Yep. How was your day?”
“Strange. Really strange. Come in and make me dinner and I’ll tell you about it.”
Zeke led Oliver to the bedroom wanting to forget all that was happening. He wanted to forget the slurs and bullying, the attack by Jordan, and how some were reacting, suddenly having a conscience. He just wanted to be with Oliver, the two of them within his bedroom. He pulled Oliver to stand by his bed, and he pulled and tugged at the clothes until he had him naked. Then with Oliver watching him, he stripped. Shirt tossed on the floor. Jean over a chair, boxers kicked into a corner. He moved to Oliver and pressed their bodies together as he kissed him. Hands touched him, moved up his sides and around his waist, pulling them tight together. His cock flexed in its confinement between their bodies, and he pushed it against Oliver.
Hands spread his ass cheeks, massaged them, and cupped them while pulling crotch against crotch. Fingers slipped between his cheeks and rubbed up and down then centered on his tight opening. He moaned into Oliver’s mouth, then he shivered when a finger penetrated him. It worked his opening, loosening him. Then two fingers stretched him open, then three and he worked his hips, pushing cock against cock and ass back on the fingers working inside him.
“Fuck me. Fuck me, Oliver. I want to feel you inside me.”
Oliver guided him to his bed, and he lay back on it. He raised his legs and held them spread apart. Oliver moved close, rubbing his ass with a hard cock. It tapped his own cock, smacked against his ass, then pumped over his loose nut sack. He was going to beg Oliver to stop teasing him. He wanted to feel that cock inside him. He looked up to see Oliver staring back. As they stared at each other, cock penetrated his ass.
Once again, they moved as one, fucking to the point of exhaustion.
They settled down, still naked, warm body against warm body, knowing sooner or later they would fuck again before morning.
“Do you still feel weird about your day?” said Oliver.
“No,” Zeke mumbled, already half asleep.
Oliver smiled and snuggled against him.
9 Months Later.
Zeke came out of the courthouse and headed down the steps. He was shaking and on the verge of tears. Oliver was right behind him, and following them was TJ, Woody, and Keith. He got to the sidewalk and stopped. He didn’t know where Oliver parked and he stood there looking up at the sky.
“Zeke,” said Oliver coming up behind him. “It’s over. Jordan is going to jail. What’s the matter? You won.”
“I know, but…I don’t know. I guess I expected him to walk, for the judge to toss the case on some bullshit technicality.”
“Zeke,” said Oliver as the others stood a few feet away. Zeke turned to him and Oliver reached out and hugged him. “You won. You won.”
Zeke relaxed against Oliver, and he smiled. He had won. Not just the case against Jordan, but with how life was going for him. Oliver moved in and they had been living together long enough to have a routine in their daily lives. Keith and Woody were still dating, and some in the town were beginning to speak to him.
He had always thought to have true happiness as a gay man he would have to move to a city that was more tolerant, but as he rocked in Oliver’s embrace, he realized happiness could happen for just two country boys too.
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