Mike meets Hank
I packed my bag for my trip to Jackson; Andrew was staying back as he was still getting settled into his new job. I stopped by the bookstore to see if they had any of the books written by H.N. Walters. They didn’t, so I had them order the last one he had written.
I got to Jackson by noon on Friday and had lunch with mom. I spent the rest of the day reading some of the articles written by Mr. Walters. I did like the way he wrote and the subjects that he wrote about. I prepared my list of questions for the interview that I would be conducting the following morning.
I arrived at the address Chuck had given me about 5 minutes before the scheduled time. I was greeted at the front door by a man with thinning white hair and a goatee, he was using a cane to steady himself. I introduced myself as he invited me into the house. We sat at the kitchen table; he handed me a cup of coffee and told me to call him Hank. As we settled in for our talk, I thought to myself, that Hank must have been a very handsome man in his younger days. He still had beautiful blue eyes that sparkled as he smiled. I can’t explain it, but I felt as if I had known Hank all of my life.
It was one of the easiest interviews that I ever had conducted. I would ask one question, and he would just talk for minutes without being prompted. I of course asked him about the big stories that he covered and the famous people he had talked to. He told me about the awards he won for his writing and showed me several scrap books that were filled with highlights of his 60-year career.
I moved on to asking him about his books. He told me the two dealing with civil rights were written about a friend of his that had experienced it firsthand. The two true crime stories were from actual cases that he had covered for the paper. I could tell that he was passionate about the subjects that he had written about.
When he talked about the two books about civil rights, he became very animated, as if he was reliving that time in his life. Even the true crime books caused a change in his emotions. It was clear he connected with the victims. He went on for hours and I enjoyed every one of his tales. I was glad that I decided to bring my recorder instead of trying to take notes. Before I knew it, we talked for over three hours. I felt like he was winding down on his career highlights.
“Where did you grow up?” I asked.
Hank’s mood suddenly changed, “I moved a lot when I was a kid. My parents died when I was young, so I just sort of drifted between aunts and uncles.”
He didn’t offer any additional information as he had done with every other question I had asked. I found that strange.
I asked, “What about school? Did you attend high school or college?”
He simply said, “Just a little high school, I needed to work so college wasn’t an option.”
Again, he kept his answer short, not elaborating. I could tell he was starting to get a bit uncomfortable; I tried to put him more at ease by starting to tell him a little bit about myself.
I said, “I was a little bit more fortunate, I had the chance to go to college. Even though I grew up in a very small town full of small-minded people.”
He perked back up a little. He asked, “Where was that?”
I continued, “It was a small town in the northwest corner of the state. Westburg, I lived outside of town in a house on Mulberry Road.”
I thought I saw him flinch a bit, and he turned a little pale.
He stood and put his coffee cup in the sink, “Well we have been at this a while. You probably need to get going. I think you should have enough for your story.”
I took the hint, “Yes sir, I think I do. I want to thank you for all your time, and I wish you a long and happy retirement.”
He walked me to the door.
I sat in my car for a minute and thought that Hank ended the interview quickly. What did I say? I backed out onto the street and headed back to my mom’s house. I drove past a car just sitting about a block away. I saw the driver watching me drive away. When I was down the street, I watched in my mirror as the car started and pulled into the driveway that I had just left. My mind was racing. What was going on? There seemed to be something that Hank was trying to hide from me.
I spent the night with mom and Aunt Janet and drove back to Memphis the next day.
Andrew greeted me with a kiss and asked, “How did the interview go?”
I sighed, “It went good for the most part.”
I saw the look on my face and said, “But…?”
I shrugged, “I don’t think I got the whole story. When I asked about his life before he started to write for the paper, he just shut down.”
Andrew said, “Well, maybe he didn’t have a good childhood.”
I nodded, “I guess, he did say his parents died when he was young and he moved around a lot.”
He said, “There you go, it’s just something he doesn’t want to talk about.”
I said, “Yeah, maybe you’re right. He really was a fascinating man.”
I started to write my article about Hank. He was a great writer and had a long career. I think I wrote a story that I felt honored him in the appropriate fashion. I was still bothered by how our meeting had ended, it just seemed unfinished.
Questions Remain
I finished saving my story to my disk so that I could print it off at the office in the morning. Andrew had also been working on some paperwork for school; he was finishing about the same time. He came up behind me, put his arms around my shoulders and kissed my cheek.
He purred, “Hey sexy, how is your article coming?”
I smiled, “I just finished it. I will give it to Chuck in the morning. How about you? How is your work going?”
He kissed the top of my head, “I’m finished too. What would you like to do now?”
I raised my eyebrow, “Well, I have a couple of ideas.”
Andrew pulled me to my feet, and we shed our clothes as we walked to the bedroom. We soon were locked in a passionate kiss as our hard cocks rubbed together. Andrew reached down to stroke my engorged member, I was only too happy to return the favor.
Andrew broke our kiss and said, “As much as I love kissing you, I really want to taste your cock now.”
I grinned, “I was just thinking the same thing.”
I flipped around so that I was staring at Andrew’s one-eyed monster. I licked my lips, then licked the drop of precum that had formed. God, he tasted so good. We now both had our mouths full of each other’s manhoods. Moans and slurping sounds filled the room. Even after all the years we had been together, we still acted like sex starved teenagers every time we made love.
As I was sucking Andrw’s cock, I worked a finger into his warm moist pucker. He of course, let out a few groans to signal his approval. I added a second finger and found his sweet spot.
Andrew released my cock from his mouth and said, “Oh God Mike, I need your dick inside me right now.”
I let his cock out of my mouth with a load pop. Andrew rolled onto his back and pulled his legs up into the air. I sighed as I stared at his beautiful brown pucker. I needed a taste. I leaned down and ran my tongue along the crack causing Andrew to moan again. He spread his legs as wide as he could and I went to work on that hole. I stroked his cock as I forced my tongue in as deep as I could.
Once I thought I had his hole good and wet, I positioned myself so I could make my aching cock happy. I stared into those beautiful brown eyes as I slowly buried my sword in Andrew’s sheath. Once my nuts were resting against his ass cheeks, I leaned in for another kiss. I always loved fucking Andrew in this position, the look on Andrew’s face as we made love was priceless.
Andrew wrapped his arms around my neck as I started to piston in and out. The walls of Andrew’s ass wrapped around my dick, and I was in my happy place. From the look on his face, Andrew was in his happy place too. Our lips remained locked together as I increased my speed, sending shivers up and down my spine.
I felt Andrew’s breathing quicken, I sensed he was getting close. I felt that familiar tingling in my own nuts and knew I was in the same condition. Andrew let out a groan and I felt his hot seed gluing us together. The contractions of his ass muscles gave my cock the squeezes it needed to send me over the edge. I let a final grunt of my own and filled Andrew with my baby batter.
I went limp on top of Andrew as we continued to suck face. My slowly deflating cock slipped from his cum filled hole and Andrew lowered his legs.
I broke our kiss and said, “I really love you.”
Andrew grinned, “I love you too.”
I gave him another kiss, “How about a shower?”
He smiled, “God, have we been together so long that we think alike?”
I chuckled, “I sure hope so.”
After our shower, we changed the sheets, and we were soon snuggled in each other’s arms and fell into a deep sleep.
I arrived at the office the next morning at the same time as Chuck. He asked how the interview went as we walked in.
I said, “It went well for the most part.”
He asked, “What does that mean?”
I sighed, “It went well while we were talking about his writing. But as soon as I asked about the years before he started working, he just quit talking.”
He shrugged, “Did you get enough for the article?”
I nodded, “I think so. I’ll print the first draft out for you, and you can let me know what you think.”
While Chuck was reading my article, I got a phone call from the bookstore letting me know that my book was in. I told Chuck I was going to run downtown to pick it up. He had finished reading my article and had made his notes by the time I returned.
He said, “I think you have enough to run the article. It was just supposed to be about his career not a complete biography.”
I sighed, “I know but I feel like I haven’t finished the story. There is something missing, it just doesn’t seem complete.”
Chuck shrugged, “Well, I am going to run the article as is. If you find anything else, we can always print a follow up.”
This Sounds Familiar
I started reading the book written by Hank as soon as I got home. The writing style seemed very familiar to me, I just assumed that it was because I had just read all of Hank’s articles. Hank’s other books were true story, documentary type books. This one was more of a novel set in an earlier period. The further I read the more it seemed that I had read it before. It was set in the 1920’s and followed two teen boys as they navigated their way into adulthood in a small rural town. I was about 1/3 of the way into the book when Andrew got home, I put the book down for a few minutes so we could tell each other about our day.
Andrew asked, “What are you reading, a new book?”
I said, “No, it was actually written about twenty years ago, by the guy that I just interviewed last weekend.”
He asked, “Is it any good?”
I nodded, “Yes, it is.”
Andrew sat down next to me, “What’s it about?”
I showed him the summary on the back cover, “It’s about two teens in the twenties.” I told Andrew all about the characters and where they lived.
Andrew chuckled, “Gee, if you tell me that one of them was black and one was white, then I would ask you if you were reading Walter’s journal again.”
I was stunned, “Jesus Christ Andrew, how the hell did I not see that?”
It had been over a year since I found any new information on Walter; I had sort of put that project on the back burner. I opened my desk drawer and found the journal and started to compare the two books. They were very similar to each other, the only exception being the sex scenes were left out of the published book. Hank had toned down the feelings between Wilber and Elliott, the two main characters in the novel. But you could tell it was a special friendship. Andrew and I kept reading the book looking for what happened after the point that the journal stopped. Just like in the journal, Wilber’s father died, but it was in a work accident, not a fire. Wilber and Elliott then ran away together. The book continued with all the events that the two endured, mostly having to do with the discrimination toward blacks that was prevalent at the time.
Andrew asked, “Mike, what did you say the name of the guy who wrote the book was?”
I said, “Hank Walters. Why?
He handed me a slip of paper, he said, “Look at the receipt you got with the book.”
The receipt listed the author by last name, first. Walters, Hank N.
I looked at Andrew and said, “Walter Hankins, damn it Andrew. I was talking to Walter.”
Andrew said, “Shit Mike, what are you going to do now?”
I said, “I am going to go back to Jackson, I have to talk to him again.”
I called Chuck at home and told him what I had found out and told him I was taking tomorrow off so I could go see Walter.
He chuckled, “Yeah, go ahead kid. It doesn't sound like I could stop you if I wanted to.”
I sighed, “Sorry, I guess I am telling you and not asking, huh?”
He said, “That’s ok kid, go ahead and get your answers.”
I hung up the phone, “Andrew, will you go with me?”
He smiled, “Sure, I would love to meet Walter. I have a couple of days off coming to me, I’ll just call my boss to make sure it is ok.”
I barely slept that night, my mind was racing. If I knew that Walter would be awake, I would have driven to Jackson right then. We left shortly after 8 am and were pulling into Walter’s driveway by midmorning.
I rang the doorbell. Walter answered the door, “Mike? What are you doing here? Didn’t I give you all the information that you needed for your article?”
I said, “Yes, I have finished the article. I just have a few more questions I want to ask you… Walter.”
He waved his hand, “I told you Mike, call me by first name.”
I took a deep breath, “I did Walter. You are Walter Hankins, aren’t you?”
“What would make you think that?” he snapped.
I reached into my bag and pulled out his book and the journal, “Mostly this.”
Walter stared at the journal, “Where the hell did you find that?”
To be Continued…
