Manley Paint – Part 5
Friday, May 16th, 1958. Sunnydale, CA.
It was bright where I found myself. Sunlight filled the room, where it had been full night a moment ago. I was in a kitchen with blue wallpaper – it had yellow flowers. I tried to orient myself, to understand where I was. Thoughts started trickling into my head. Memories that weren't mine. Bobby's life up to that point was taking over. Within moments, I was just a speck at the back of his mind, along for the ride. I could see what he saw, feel what he felt, and even think what he thought.
Bobby had a book open on the table in front of him. To the casual observer, it would look like he was reading, but he was far too keyed up to focus on the book. He was finally back home, and about to see the people he'd been missing the most since he'd left for college in the fall. The kitchen table in his brother's house had a direct view of the driveway, and Bobby wanted nothing more than to see Butch's cherry red Chevy pull in.
Bobby's brother, Hunter Jacobs, was the only person in Bobby's normal life who knew his secret, and that's why Bobby was there instead of back at home with their parents. There were too many questions at home, but Hunter knew better than to ask. He already knew the answers. Hunter wasn't exactly the pinnacle of support, but he was the type to let you see to your own business so long as it didn't hurt other people. Hunter wasn't exactly following an accepted romance path himself, dating a black woman, so he knew better than most what it was like to be with someone everyone told you was wrong. Hunter also knew that my desire for men, while making me an outcast, didn't actually cause harm to other people, as long as they were willing.
Butch was willing.
Butch's car finally pulled into the driveway, and Bobby nearly knocked the chair over getting up. He bolted out the door, barely remembering to lock it as he left. He jumped into the car, which took off as soon as his backside hit the seat.
"You look great, college boy," Butch yelled out over the wind noise. The top was down and a normal conversation would have been impossible. Bobby looked Butch over and his breath caught. From what Bobby had seen from the window, Butch had been in a suit, fresh off of work. Below, on the other hand, was a different story.
"You got some for yourself?" Bobby asked, knowing the answer.
"You said how much they get you going," Butch replied, "how could I resist? If I had known how much the greasers got you worked up sooner, I would have bought some a long time ago."
Bobby had never heard the word 'fetish' before, and he never would in his lifetime. But, if he had, he would have known immediately that that was what he had. His was for button-fly jeans. Butch knew, though. Butch had his own set of fetishes, and he was more than willing to exploit Bobby's if it made the sex hotter.
^^^
Something shifted. I was seeing the same things, but from a few feet to the left. Butch had taken over. He checked out Bobby and loved what he saw. The nineteen year old freshman was in a tweed blazer with a pressed white shirt. His cream trousers were a thin summer weight, so even though they were loose, the way they fell showed off the contour of Bobby's slim legs perfectly.
Butch reoriented his focus onto the road and made a left turn, not noticing that Bobby had moved closer. He felt his shirt being moved back to reveal the fly, and then felt Bobby's finger slide along the outside, slowly, from top to bottom. When he looked over, he saw Bobby give a shudder of pure pleasure. He grinned, outwardly. Inside, his heart was bursting into song. Bobby was everything to Butch, but he knew that Bobby had a life ahead of him, a life away from Butch and Sunnyvale. He had to make the time he had with Bobby count.
^^^
I was shifting again, this time across town as someone else took over. His thoughts came into my mind and I knew his name was Richie.
Richie took a deep sip from his malt, reveling in the scents of the drive-in – hamburgers, fries, and the underlying aroma of car exhaust. The last smell only added to the experience for him. The best part, however, was Petey in the passenger seat.
"This is the life," Petey sighed, just loud enough for Richie to hear, but deliberately soft enough to not be heard by any of the teenagers around them. They never knew who could her them, especially with the windows down. "Too bad none of this is real."
"You say that, but here we are doing it," Richie replied. "Even if this only exists for us one night a week, that doesn't make it any less real." He wanted to reach out and touch Petey to reassure him, but not there, not where everyone could see.
Petey was quiet for a while as he ate, staring off into the distance, away from the drive-in. They were in the last parking spot. "I'd give it all up for you," he finally said out loud.
Richie knew. That's why he kept a level head for the both of them. They were both married, both with daughters mere weeks apart, and Richie was the only one keeping both families in tact. Being the grown-up was exhausting sometimes. As much as he loved Petey, the man's romantic feelings were going to get both of them into more trouble than Richie wanted to deal with.
It's why he invited a new person to join them.
"So...," Richie began, then paused, not sure of how to bring it up. "There's a new guy in our church."
"Ok?"
"He's like us," Richie continued. "I invited him to the group tonight."
"I only missed one week of church," Petey said. "How could you have learned that about him so quickly?"
"He came to lunch with Jan, Beth and I after church," Richie told his lover. "There was a lot of eye contact. When the girls went to the restroom, I asked him. He said it was true." Richie didn't mention to Petey that the new guy had also played footsie with him under the booth, or that he was none too subtle about his attraction to Richie, which was why he had gotten the invitation to lunch in the first place.
"So you're hoping he can find someone in out group he likes?" Petey asked. Richie nodded. "My cupid, he breathed, with a half smile that made Richie swoon. That smile was why he continued trying to keep everything together for the both of them.
^^^
Flying back across town again, into the driver's seat of Butch's car, I settled back in to see through the man's eyes.
Butch pulled into the parking lot of his business, Manley Paint, but there was a truck he didn't recognize in a spot down the line. It was after hours and no one was scheduled to be there for anything. Butch knew, because he had made sure of it before he left earlier. As they got closer, he saw there was a man in the truck. "There's someone waiting for us," Butch pointed out to Bobby. "Stay in the car while I find out what's going on. Lock the door after I get out, and be ready to drive off without me if you have to."
"You know I'll get out to help you if you need it," Bobby replied.
"No. If he's here to fight, you could end up getting yourself killed." Butch shook his head. "If this guy is trouble, you run."
I jumped back to Bobby.
Bobby agreed out loud, knowing full well he wouldn't listen if the worst happened. He watched Butch get out of the car and walk down the lot to the truck, taking the time to admire the way the jeans moved along Butch's backside as he went. He tried to stay focused on business, but it was too captivating a sight. Butch stayed on the passenger side of the truck, since the driver had his windows down. Bobby was relieved about that, since it meant that Butch wouldn't have to leave his line of vision.
There was a brief exchange of words, then Butch nodded, and started coming back to the car. Bobby let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. Butch was actually smiling, which raised Bobby's curiosity. The back and forth movement of the fly on Butch's crotch as the man got closer raised something else of Bobby's.
"He's one of us," Butch said as he got close enough to speak normally. "Richie invited him." It was certainly the best scenario that could have resulted from the exchange. Bobby relaxed and got out of the car.
He watched the man get out of his truck and come toward them as they walked to the entrance of the building. The man was tall and athletically built. Not as muscled as Butch, more of a track and field type. He was well groomed with his dark brown hair perfectly combed and his shirt and pants fitting him like they were designed specifically for his body. Butch had a tendency of stretching his clothes with his physique, while Bobby's always looked somewhat baggy in the mirror.
When they reached the front door of the factory, the new guy reached them. "Bobby Jacobs," he introduced himself with a smile. "And you've met my, uh, friend, Butch Manley."
"Lance Goodman," the man replied with a dashing grin, straight from the movies. Lance wasn't hard to look at in the slightest. In fact, if not for Butch, Bobby thought he could be interested in Lance.
Back into Butch again. I was getting whiplash in the brain from all this bouncing around.
Butch had a hunch from the way Bobby looked at Lance, that he was just as aroused by the man as Butch was. He knew who Lance looked like to him, but he'd never say it to Bobby, since it would turn his lover off, maybe for the night. Lance looked remarkably like Hunter, Bobby's brother. They both were tall, dark-haired, and had those dashing chiseled features of a Hollywood actor. He was undeniably sexy, but Butch had one feature he worshiped above all else, and it was time to check that out.
He told Bobby to lead the way to the lounge, and had Lance follow. Butch checked out the man's rear end as he walked. It was nice, proportional, average. Butch's eyes then wandered farther to Bobby's. Bobby may have been skinny, but the way his ass stuck out behind him made Butch's mouth water. He felt himself hardening at the prospect of playing with it later, of entering it. It wasn't just an ass, it was an art exhibit.
The three of them walked down the dark hallways, but Butch didn't dare turn on the main lights, in fear that someone might investigate why people were in the factory past closing. Manley Paints was in Butch's name, but it didn't quite belong to him in full. If anyone caught them, there was a chance he could lose everything. The factory was actually a property of his brother-in-law's family, only available to Butch because of his sister. When the family met Butch, they took an instant liking to him – said that he had the soul of a businessman. Not long after, they asked him to take over the paint factory. If he did well with it, there would be more opportunities for him in the future. After several years of success, he became co-owner, and was allowed to change the name of the factory. Of course, no one in that family, his sister included, suspected who or what he was when he wasn't working. They just assumed that the reason he wasn't making a family was because he was so invested in the business.
Bobby led the three of them back to the employee lounge with the expertise of someone who had been there countless times. The break room was where their secret club always met up before grouping up for the evening. Lance was close behind Bobby, but to his left, so his right hand touched Bobby's ass with each swing. Butch knew Bobby would like it, and that was enough to turn Butch on. Inside the lounge, Butch took a seat on the two person love seat, and Bobby sat next to him, touching him in as many places as possible, but forcing Lance to take a different seat. Bobby placed a hand on his lover's thigh.
"How exactly does this club work?" Lance asked. "Do I just join in or do I wait for someone unattached to show up? I don't want to misstep on my first night."
Butch smiled. Lance was being courteous and asking permission , which was all Butch had been hoping for. "Bobby, you know what you want to do right now, so why don't you enjoy yourself with it while I have some fun with Lance." Bobby grinned and slid off the couch, moving to a position between Butch's legs. "Come sit with me, Lance," Butch told the other man.
As Lance moved to the spot on the love seat that Bobby had abandoned, Butch could feel the first gentle caresses of Bobby's hands against his legs. He took a quick gasp of air as his passion was ignited.
"Are you sure you want me involved?" Lance asked tentatively. "If you two are a couple, I wouldn't want to make things bad between you."
Butch gently took Lance's hand and placed it against the center of his own chest, feeling Lance's palm pressing the buttons of Butch's shirt into his chest. "I will definitely need time later for Bobby and I to be alone. I've been waiting months for this night. But Bobby isn't mine, and I'm not his. The directions of our lives just don't allow us to be a couple, so we just accept that and enjoy what little time we can spend together."
"Is that true Bobby?" Lance asked, but Bobby's eyes were glazed over with lust and he wasn't paying attention to anything else but Butch's lower half.
Butch reached out and grabbed the lapels of Lance's sport jacket pulling him in slowly but firmly for a kiss. Lance's hand was still on Butch's chest, and all it would have taken was a small push of resistance to stop Butch, but there was none. Lance was accepting, and their lips met. Lance's lips were soft – not as soft as Bobby's, but still nice. He also didn't kiss like Bobby. There was a desperate energy to Lance, like someone who had been denied for far too long. Butch wondered if Lance had ever been with a man before.
I jumped back into Bobby's mind, which was clouded over with lust. I knew the feeling, having just been there with my beautiful stranger. I suspected the fifth ghost was Lance, but there were differences in demeanor between Lance and my stranger that I couldn't quite put my finger on. It was like a different demeanor altogether. Butch had noticed that Lance and Bobby's brother looked the same. Could it be that I was with Hunter? But wasn't Hunter straight? I was confusing myself with not enough information, so I paid attention to Bobby's point of view again.
Bobby took a deep breath. The scent of the denim made him hard as a rock inside his own pants. He ran his hands along Butch's thighs, lightly caressing the soft fabric. To his hands and mind, it was the feeling of everything sex was and ever could be.
He traced his fingers along the inner seam of Butch's legs. Every little bump between the two rows of stitching made his breath catch and his pulse jump. It was like an erotic trail. Bobby pulled back and reached for the start of that trail, down at Butch's ankles, and he slowly traced the journey from the bottom, stopping for moments in the deeper valleys, just to feel the jeans cup his fingertips. He let his fingers glide further up over the calves, sliding past the knees, and back up the thighs, where they met at the top in a perfect square. Bobby gently pressed the square, bringing a small moan from Butch.
Bobby wasn't sure if the moan was from what he had just done, or from what Lance was doing. It didn't matter. At that point, Bobby was making love to the Levis, and Butch was only along for the ride. Bobby ran his finger along the flap that covered the buttons of the fly, feeling the hardness of the steel beneath the denim.
He leaned in closer, drawing his face toward Butch's crotch. He ran his tongue under the button flap, allowing his lips to slide under the fly as well. The denim was especially soft against that most sensitive flesh of his lips. His cheek touched Butch's thigh, and it sent his mind reeling with pleasure. He had to touch the jeans to his face more! He nuzzled his head between Butch's meaty thighs, stroking his skin against the fabric with a frenzied fervor.
Without warning, there were hands around his head, pulling him back. The fog of lust slid away painfully and he stared up into Butch's eyes. "Sorry, Bobby, but the others are here. It's time to move on. Don't worry, we'll return to this."
I was stunned, sitting there in the corner of Bobby's mind. The boy had lost all control, all sense of himself, lost completely to passion. The ghost Bobby made a lot more sense to me now. As strange as I'd thought his fetish had been before I came to the abandoned factory, it was clear now that it was a bit of a mania. A switch flipped in Bobby's brain when those jeans were close to him, and it really didn't matter what guys were inside.
Still, my heart sank knowing what I was going to experience. These were all real people to me now, as alive as I was, and yet, I already knew they were dead men.
^^^
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