This story is dedicated to Andrew Hollerand.
This is a work of fiction. It is, however, based at least in part on real people and a few actual events. Many of the conversations represented here took place. Having experienced the joys of being outed in public by another myself, I have taken the liberty of changing the names and altering the events enough to hopefully prevent anyone from being embarrassed.
As always, this story is intended for an adult audience interested in Gay erotic literature. If you are not of legal age--that's eighteen in the US--or are offended by depictions of homosexuality or what homosexuals do when you're not around, then I strongly request that you find another place to surf. This story remains the property of the author and may not be reprinted in part or in whole without my permission.
Love and a wet kiss, SoQueer.
It was one of those days that you get in the deep south in early June. The only thing higher than the temperature that morning was the humidity. I had gone to the convenience store around the corner from my parents' house both to get something cool to drink and to get a break from the chores they had lined up for me.
"Fuck!" I heard a deep male voice yelling. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" I looked around to see what was going on, and over by the compressed air machine I saw a guy in overalls on the back of a pickup truck bent over a rotor tiller and having obvious problems. He was about my age--seventeen--and I could see the brown skin of his shoulders glistening in the summer sun. I walked over and stood close enough to hear him muttering under his breath, "Ain't no fuckin' farmer. This is a crock of shit!"
"You need a hand with that?" I asked him. He spun around and stared me down. The fire in his blue eyes made me swallow hard. "You need some help?" I asked again.
"Not unless you know how to get me out of this god-forsaken cesspool of a town," he shot back sarcastically. He stood up straight and bushed a mass of straw-colored hair out of his eyes. "Yeah, I could use a hand. I can't seem to get this damned thing to work right."
I climbed onto the back of the truck and stood on the other side of the tiller from him. I quickly ran my eyes over his body. He was wearing an old pair of overalls and no shirt. His tan was even darker up close. His bare shoulders were well defined without too much bulk. "The name's Mark," I said, and stuck out my hand at him.
He took my hand in his and gave it a firm, practiced squeeze. "I'm David. David Fambrough. I'm spending the summer at my grandma's. She wanted me to see if I could get the tires on this old tiller pumped back up so I could do some yard work for her. I got one of them done, but the other one doesn't seem to want to cooperate. It's popped off the rim and I just can't hold it right or something."
"Let's see if we can get it together. I'll hold the tire and you pump it up." I leaned over and took the tire in my hands and positioned it on the rim. David picked up the air hose and started trying to fill the tire with air. As he leaned into the work our arms brushed up against each other. His sweet, musky scent filled my nostrils and made my head spin. I felt myself sweating, not only from the summer heat, but from his body heat, as well. He was radiating heat and it washed through my body in waves. From time to time our cheeks would brush together in the struggle with the tire, and I had to fight the urge to turn and kiss him.Eventually the tire caught on the rim and filled with air. David sat back on the truck fender and wiped the sweat off his face.
"Whew!" he exclaimed. "I sure am glad you came along. I was ready to throw that thing off the back of the truck and high-tail it out of here. Thanks, Mike."
"Uh, it's Mark. And your welcome." David blushed. It made his face even more beautiful. "Sorry! Mark."
"It's OK," I said. "I'm used to it . The names are similar. A lot of people make that mistake. Hell, half the time my mother calls me by my brother's name. I've gotten to the point I'll answer to anything."
David laughed. It was a good, deep laugh--one that was filled with life and promise. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Sometimes you wonder which one of you they want." A cloud seemed to pass across his face. "Yeah, it makes y'wonder."
I knew I had to change the subject. "You say you're here for the summer?" I asked.
"Yeah," he answered with a sigh. Wrong question, I thought.
"This your truck?" I asked. He looked up at me with an odd look in his eyes. The expression on his face suggested he couldn't decide whether to answer the question or tell me to fuck off.
"Nah," He finally answered. "It was my granddad's before he died. My grandma keeps it locked up in the barn. She's letting me use it while I'm here. It's a piece of shit, really. Runs like crap."
"Hey, at least you got wheels under you. I'm still taking the sneaker express," I said, pointing to my shoes. David laughed again. I knew then I wanted to make him laugh and laugh often. His laughter was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard.
"Hey, listen, I, uh, I gotta get back to my grandma's place and finish up," he said. I tried not to let my disappointment show, but I guess it got through anyway. "Maybe I'll see you around. Thanks again."
"Yeah, sure. Anytime."
We jumped down out of the truck, and he climbed in behind the wheel. He turned the ignition, and the engine eventually fired up. He was right: The truck was running pretty bad. He dropped it in gear and started to pull away and then stopped. He sat there for a minute breathing though his mouth as if lost in some thought or other. Finally he turned and looked at me. "Uh, Mark," he yelled over the loose manifold. "Is there anywhere to go swimming around here?"
I walked over to the truck door and stood close enough that my crotch brushed against the hot metal. "I always go out to Beasley's pond." I answered. "If you'd like, I could take you out there sometime. You doing anything this afternoon?"
"Looks like I'm going swimming," he answered with a big grin on his face. "Where you want to meet me?"
"Why not right here, say about three thirty."
"Let's make it four. I got a lot to do back at the house."
"Great," I said. "I'll see you right here at four." I stepped back from the truck and he pulled away. I watched as he drove off and continued standing there watching even after he was long out of sight. After a few minutes of standing there in the hot sun the sights and sounds around me started coming back into focus. I was standing in the middle of Boston, Georgia, in broad daylight with a hard on in my shorts the size of Texas...Definitely something to give all those blue-haired ladies an item to talk about at the next Methodist Social. I bent down and picked up my soda. It was hot now, but I didn't care. My mind was miles away in a beat up old truck.
I jumped when the car horn sounded behind me. "Marky!" I heard my mother shouting at me, "Get in this car right now, Mister!" I turned and crawled in the cool leather seats. She was lecturing me again. We used to have long conversations about everything, but now she only seemed to want to preach at me. I gave the obligatory "Yes, Ma'am" at appropriate intervals and tried to look repentant. I had 'skipped out on my yard work' and she was 'worried sick because I didn't tell her where I was going, blah, blah, blah, blah.' It was always some variation about how worried I made her. If she only knew.
"I'm sorry. Mom," I said as her sermon lost steam. "I didn't mean to be gone so long. I came over to get a soda, and I ran into this guy who needed some help with a tire. The time just got away from me, that's all."
"I worry about you, Marky. You're my baby, and Mothers have a right to worry about their babies." I tried not to roll my eyes. It was over, and I was none the worse for wear.
I finished my chores, ate a late lunch, and took a bath. As four o'clock approached I found myself growing increasingly restless. I couldn't understand why I was so nervous. There were butterflies in the pit of my stomach, and my hands wouldn't stop shaking. I had never felt like this before. I knew I had a thing about guys, but I couldn't understand why this particular guy was making me feel so strange. All I could think about was the fire in those blue eyes and the sound of his laughter. I kept telling myself he was nothing special and that we were only going for a swim. In the process I tried on every piece of clothing I owned.
At four-twenty I walked out the door over my mother's protests. I figured I'd catch hell later, but I was willing to go through any hell she could give me if it meant I could hear that laugh again. I cut through my neighbor's yard and made a bee-line for the convenience store. Two minutes later I walked through the shrubbery surrounding the parking lot only to see David's truck sitting by the air machine. I hopped in beside him and said, "Hi."
"Hi, yourself. We ready to go?" He asked.
I told him the directions and we took off. Along the way I pointed out different houses and told him brief stories about some of the town's more colorful characters. David sat silently driving. Occasionally he would nod and smile, but try as I may, I couldn't make him laugh. As we left the town behind us and neared the turn-off to Beasley's Pond he looked at me with a grin on his face and said, "You're a regular gossip, aren't you?"
"Yeah," I said, taking the bait, "and I can't wait to get back to town to talk about YOU." David gave a grunt. It wasn't a laugh, but at least the ice was breaking.
The truck rounded the last bend, and the pond came in view. Beasley's pond was set in a small meadow surrounded by an old-growth pine thicket. It was well secluded and spring fed. Although the water was ice cold, it was deep and clear. It the middle of the pond stood a small inland with one cypress tree on it. It was my favorite part of the place, and I had tied a rope around one of the lower limbs so I could use it to swing out over the water.
"Damn," I heard David whisper. "This place is spectacular. How many people come out here?"
"Just me now. My brother used to come out here with some of his friends, but they're all gone off to college. The people who own it are old and don't leave the house much any more. I come back here as often as I can."
"It'd be a great place to get laid. I'll bet you and your girl do it back here all the time."
"No," I said, wanting to say that there wasn't any 'girl'. "You're the only person I've brought here."
David turned his head and looked at me. That odd look was back, like he was looking at someone else. My heart was beating so fast I was sure he could hear it. Did he know, I asked myself. Was he regretting coming out here with me?
"Let's go get wet," he said, and jumped out of the truck.
I climbed out of the truck and stripped down to my cutoffs. I looked over at David and he had his pants halfway down his thighs. "You bashful, or something?" he asked.
I was mesmerized. "Uh, No!" I replied, "I'm Sleepy! Yesterday I was Dopey. Maybe tomorrow I'll be Grumpy." I shucked off my shorts and underwear in one movement. "Ta-da!"
David laughed. "I meant, let's swim in our drawers, Dick-wad, but OK, if you want to!" and he pealed off his briefs. I was dazed. He was perfect. There wasn't a blemish or freckle on him. His body was perfectly proportioned. His skin was an even shade of brown except at the waist--his waist was creamy white. Above his cock he had a shock of brown hair that set off the fullness of his groin. I felt my cock jerking to a swift erection.
"Race you to the water!" He yelled, and he took off running for the pond. I quickly caught up with him and beat him to the waters edge. (I'm short, but I'm fast). We both dove in the pond and made our way to the island. The shock of cold water cooled down my excitement, and I laid down in the sunshine on the grass next to him.
"Man, I needed this." David said. "It ain't the beach, but it's great just the same."
"You go to the beach often?" I asked. "The beaches near here are the pits."
"I live on the beach. This is the most water I've seen since the day after summer vacation started." David rolled over facing me. I tried not to be too obvious in checking out his naked body. I had to look out of the corner of my eye, but what I could see was making my heart beat faster. He reached down and scratched between his legs. I felt the blood rush to my face as I looked up to see he had caught me looking. "Lets go back in," he said as he sprang nimbly to his feet.
I followed David in the water. We approached the coldness slower this time. I stood there behind him admiring the way his ass cheeks moved from side to side as he waded out into the deep. The contrast between the whiteness of his tan line and the rich brownness of the rest of his body made his butt glow. I quickly moved far enough out in the cold water to keep the raging hard on springing from my crotch from embarrassing me any further.
All of a sudden I felt cold water splashing all over me. We dove into each other in a fierce water battle, whooping and hollering as only seventeen-year-olds can. For a half hour or so we wrestled in the shallows, each trying to best the other, each hold lasting longer than the last. Even with the cold water's numbing effect I could feel my manhood stirring to life each time our legs wrapped around each other. David seemed so sure of himself and so at ease with me! I felt my cock throb to its full length as he held me, that perfect body pressing against me, his legs intertwined with mine, his heat seeping into me, and his face so close to me--I wanted him. I wanted him to hold me and give me his warmth.
I knew if this kept up he was bound to notice my erection, so I pulled free of him and swam towards the truck. By the time I pulled myself up on the sandy bank my erection had subsided enough to be presentable. I walked over to where I had dropped my towel and wiped the water off my face. The warm sun felt good on my back, but it only reminded me of his warm body pressed up against me in the cold water. I heard David splashing his way on shore behind me. I turned and looked at him over my shoulder. The cloud was back.
"You OK?" he asked.
"Yeah," I lied. "I just needed a breather."
David walked over to the truck and got something out from behind the seat. He walked over to me and handed me a tightly rolled joint. "Fire it up," he said.
David climbed on the hood of the truck and sat down. I debated whether I should pull on my shorts, but he was sitting there in all his naked glory. I told myself it would look funny if I didn't do the same, so I climbed up and sat down next to him. I lit the joint, took a toke and passed it over to him. We sat in silence as the smoke filled our senses with heightened awareness.
"You ever had a shotgun?" he asked me.
"No, but my dad has a pistol."
David threw his head back and roared. "A 'shotgun' is where someone blows air through the joint backwards, and you inhale." He positioned himself so his face was in front of mine. " Relax, Dude, I'm not going to kiss you, or anything," he said and he cupped his hands around my mouth. I inhaled quick and felt a rush of thick smoke fill my lungs.
But my mind was exploding. "Not going to kiss you," he said. "Kiss you!" Yes! Kiss me! I thought. My face tingled where he touched me. The weed was having its effect on me, and I could feel my perception of time changing. It seemed as if he were moving in slow motion, as if his hands were lingering on my face in a gentle caress.
"Damn! That's some good shit!"
"Thanks," he said pulling away from me. "It's my last one. I was saving it for...well, for a special occasion. This seems like a pretty special occasion, don't you think?" He was smiling, but the cloud was still there.
"Yeah," I answered, absentmindedly trying to figure out what he was saying. "Let me do you!"
"Huh?" He asked, jerking around to look at me again.
"Let me try that thing with the joint on you. I want to see if I can do it."
"Oh! OK. Just dry your lips real well and put the joint in your mouth backwards. Then cup your hands around my mouth and blow softly."
My hands trembled as I drew close to his face. He took my wrists and drew my hands to his cheeks. I let my fingers gently graze his face as I positioned them for the hit. I drew close to him, turning my head slightly as if I were going to kiss that fabulous mouth, and started blowing smoke for him to inhale. The rush of being this close to him was getting me higher than the joint. His heat was drawing me into him.
He laid back and let the smoke do its work. As he lay there with his eyes closed I let myself have a long look at his incredible body. He was built for sex. Everything about him was wet dream material. Even his feet were a turn-on. High or not, I wanted him. David was the most beautiful creature I had ever beheld. I took my time looking him over. When I realized my cock was stirring again I made myself look away. The light reflecting off of the water was making the trees seem to shimmer. They feel it too, I told myself.
" Mmm. Thanks for bringing me here," David said as he sat up. "This place is wonderful. It's so quiet. It's so far from everything. I love it."
And I love you, I thought.
"Have you ever spent the night out here?"
"Yeah, but it's been a few years. The last time was a couple of nights before my brother left for college. We set up our tent on the island and fished all night. The misquotes nearly ate us alive."
"I'd like to do that some time," he said. He was looking out over the water. I couldn't help feeling his thoughts had little to do with me or this place. "You know, just you and me. Damn, Mike, it'd be great!"
"Uh, it's Mark."
"Huh?" he asked absently. His eyes were fixed on the cypress tree on the island.
I guess it was the weed, but I was hurt that he couldn't remember my name. "My name is Mark, not Mike!"
"Shit!" David exclaimed and got down off the truck. He walked over to the edge of the water and squatted down. The angle of the sun cast a huge shadow of his dick under him.
I got down and walked over to where he was and squatted beside him. "I'm sorry, David. I shouldn't have said anything. Don't let it bother you."
"It's not that," he said softly. "Mike was my brother. You...remind me of him."
"Was?" I asked gently.
"He died six months ago. That's why I'm here living with my grandma. My parents were sick of looking at me so they shipped me off to live here. They said it was just for the summer." His voice was trembling now. "Hell, I know the truth. My mother packed up everything I own and sent it with me. Every fucking thing!"
I stood up. So that was the cloud...and the key to everything. He was here, naked beside me, because I reminded him of a ghost. My chest hurt at the thought of him seeing someone else every time he looked in my direction.
"This morning, when I turned around and saw you standing there beside the truck, I nearly freaked. You could be Mike's twin." I could see David out of the corner of my eye. He was standing beside me now, and he was facing me. "I know you aren't him, Mark. He's gone, and he's not coming back. Even if he were here, now, I'd still want you to be here, too. I miss him, but I want to be with you. I don't want anything to fuck this up--not Mike, not me, not even you. This is too perfect!"
My head was spinning. Did he say what I thought he said? I turned to face him, and I looked him in the eyes. That fierceness was back, and I felt my soul burning for him. My dick was rock hard, but I didn't care. I just stood there looking into the cool fire of his blue eyes.
David moved closer to me and put his hands on my bare shoulders. Slowly, ever so gently, he pulled me close to him. His strong arms wrapped around me, and one hand found its way to the back of my neck. Before I could realized what was happening he was pulling me into a kiss. At first I just stood there in shock. As my confusion subsided I melted into him, my arms wrapping around him. I sucked his tongue into my mouth and tried to bury mine in his. His heat ran through my body in wave upon wave as he squeezed me closer to him, his groin grinding into me with relentless fury.
My hands began exploring his tender flesh. My fingers played with the soft, downy white-blond hair growing on the back of his neck. Slowly I explored the ridges along his spine, letting my hands drift down to the two dimples at the base. I flatten my palms around his waist and moved down to cup his lovely ass cheeks. Fine blond hair grew along the edges of his crack, and I toyed with the twin globes of his ass cheeks, pulling and rubbing my way into the moist warmth hidden inside. Slowly and carefully I began to massage his opening.
David crushed his crotch into mine and ran his tongue deeper in my mouth. His cock felt like hot steel pressed against my belly. The savage fire burning within him was driving us both on. Our bodies bucked wildly, the sweat that poured out of us lubricated the ravenous pounding of our steel-like rods against each other. Each touch, each breath brought us new delight. David's thrusts began lifting me off the ground. I wrapped my legs around his and rode his thrusting torso like a bucking pony. His legs quivered under me. Suddenly, it felt as if molten lead was blasting out across my belly. He was cumming. My beautiful man was cumming on my stomach. I couldn't hold it any longer. I climbed even higher on him and shot my wad across his broad chest. I sucked hard on his tongue with each spasm.
We slowly slid apart. I dropped down onto my own feet, and our kiss parted. David just stood there, gently holding me in one arm and running a hand tenderly along my jaw. I couldn't stop looking into his eyes. The clouds were gone, and their color now was a pure, clear blue. His gaze dropped to his chest. "We're a mess...and it's getting late," he said. "Lets go get cleaned off. I need to get back to Grandma's"
We swam around for a few minutes and then dressed in silence. All the way back to town he seemed to be somewhere else. In a way, I was grateful for his quiet mood. My emotions were much too raw, and I didn't want anything to spoil what had just happened. And yet, I longed to hear his voice. I craved his laughter.
It was twilight by the time we got back to the convenience store. David pulled up to the air machine where we had met a few hours earlier and turned off the engine. He sat there looking at the steering wheel until I got out.
"Thanks." He looked at me for the first time since we left Beasley's Pond.
I told myself that this was the big 'it'. I was being given the brush-off, I thought, and I felt my temper flare. How dare he give me the most incredible experience of my life and then have the audacity to act ashamed. "Yeah, well, it was great." I was getting mega pissed. "See ya around, I guess."
"Where do you live?"
"Huh?" I said, a little off guard.
"Well, I thought we might, you know, go get a pizza or something sometime..." He sounded so child-like. He looked up at me with a scared look in his eyes.
"Yeah!" He said eagerly.
"How about Friday night, then? I live in the white two-story next to City Hall* on Main Street." I wasn't going to give him a chance to back down now. He opened this door, and nothing was going to stop me from going through!
"Six o'clock OK?"
"Six o'clock this Friday, then. Don't forget..."
"I won't. I promise!"
I got out of the truck and for the second time that day I stood there with a hard on in my pants watching him drive away . My reputation was shot to hell, but at least it was dying a good death. I knewthen and there that I would face this and more just so I could be next to him.
* For all my gainsayers: City Hall in Boston is currently located in the middle of the block in the downtown business district (I can hardly write that without laughing!). It was moved to its current location back in the Eighties. The house in question burned down several years later and its last owner died a couple of years after that. I never lived in the house. I've used it so no one could say I owed them a royalty!