Obtaining Tommy part 1
I was in back using the pumice soap to get the grease off my hands when Frank yelled to me from out front.
"Have a good weekend, Boss!"
"See ya, Frank." I shouted back.
Frank works in the garage for me. He usually skips out of work at the end of the day and washes up at home. He drives an old, beat up Chevy that he doesn't give a damn about. A little grease in the interior won't faze him. But I wash myself meticulously at the garage, and always change out of my grimy coveralls and into my street clothes before leaving. My car is my baby-- grease or scuff marks anywhere on the body or interior are unforgivable, and anyone who marks up my precious will face my wrath.
After scrubbing up and changing into my shorts and tank top I went around the garage making sure everything was locked up before turning out the lights and locking the doors. I'd bought this place 5 years ago with what I'd managed to save working in other garages, plus a little cash my pop had left me and a loan from the bank.
When I found it it was a pretty run-down service station owned by an old man who didn't have the energy or the funds to make something decent out of it. The downtown location was excellent, though, and the state of the building meant I got it pretty much for a steal. It took a lot of work to get the place in shape- most of which I did myself. But I'm damn proud of the place, right down to the shiny sign above the building: Becket Auto Clinic. (That's me, Jason Becket; Jase to my buddies.)
I've got 4 guys working for me total. Frank was the first I hired. He's smart with cars, and a nice guy-- for an out-of-shape breeder. I heckle him about that, and he jabs back about working for a primadonna nancy boy. It's all in fun. Frank's an accepting man, and he doesn't have any problems with gays. Business has been good from day one, thanks in part to me being one of only two auto clinics listed in the local gay pages. And not to sound like a conceited jerk, but I'm pretty sure a lot of guys give me their repeat business because I'm some nice eye-candy as well as a damned good mechanic.
I won't pretend I'm not aware of how I look. Hell, I've put a lot of effort into making my body healthy and powerful. Genes gave me a six foot three frame, deep blue eyes, chestnut hair, dimples, and a hairy body that responds very well to exercise. Braces when I was 14 gave me a terrific smile, which I use frequently and am complimented on often. Thousands of hours lifting weights, working out, and working on motors has given me some pretty big arms (a former boyfriend liked to call them the `big guns'), a very muscular chest with washboard abs, a strong beefy ass and thick muscular thighs and calves. I've been blessed in other ways, too. (Let's just say I fill out my jeans, front and back, very nicely.)
I was just glad this day was over. We were busy this week, and I got in early to work on the transmission of a Chrysler I didn't have time to get to the night before. I was tired, and to make things worse it was a pretty hot day. Summer's last gasp, most likely, since it was already mid-September. After all that hard work in the heat I was feeling pretty rank and I needed a proper shower. Still, that didn't stop me from taking the scenic route home with the top down.
My baby is a '64 Mustang convertible. Over the course of a year and a half I'd poured my sweat and soul into that car rebuilding it. I'd rebuilt the engine and done all the bodywork myself-- even did the re-upholstering. Charcoal gray exterior with an off-white top and interior. This car is my pride and joy. I've been known to spend whole Saturdays cleaning out the engine and keeping it purring like a kitten. It's also a major babe magnet--for both sexes.
When I got home I could hear Arkadyevna barking inside. (Yeah, so I'm a sucker for Russian literature. Ju st because I'm a muscle-bound auto mechanic doesn't mean I'm dumb like a rock.) I didn't have time to sneak home during my lunch break and the poor girl had to hold it in patiently since her abrupt walk early that morning. When I opened the door she bounded out and did a kind of four-pawed dance around me before jumping up and trying to lick my face. All was forgiven, it seems, and that just made me feel like more of a heel for having left her cooped up all day. A nice long romp at the park was the only thing that would clear my guilty conscience. I laid a blanket down in the back seat and Arka hopped in. She loves it back there. A convertible is dog heaven. No need to stick her head out of any unnecessary windows.
When we got to the park there was still plenty of daylight left, though it had taken on an orange glow as the sun began its long descent into the horizon. There were some kids playing over by the playground, with a happy-looking couple sitting nearby along the fountain watching them. Out in the field were a handful of guys playing catch with a football. Other than that the park seemed pretty quiet for a beautiful Friday afternoon. Arka wasted no time finding a nice-sized stick and dropping it in front of me.
For most dogs this is simply a game, but Arka isn't most dogs. She's one smart customer with a wry sense of humor. The stick is a taunt. She's saying, "Who's gonna wear out first, tough guy?"
I succumbed to her challenge, picking up the stick and running. I didn't have to look back to know she was hot on my heels.
It wasn't long, between running, chasing, and play wrestling, that we found ourselves near the football tossers. I took a few opportunities to check them out. Two of them were your standard, average, boring frat boy type. But the third boy... I had a hard time taking my eyes off that one. I kept stealing glances at him, memorizing that beautiful ass and handsome face. Arka wanted to go sniff around the pond, but I enticed her into staying nearby with me so I could continue to check this boy out. Definitely my type--he looked like he was 21 or so, no more than 5'9", slightly curly blond hair, a fantastic smile, nicely-proportioned legs dusted with a light amount of faint golden hair, and capped off by that fantastic ass. I wouldn't say he was thin--more like lean. Although he wasn't bulky it was obvious his small frame was well-muscled.
Arkadyevna is a keen little mutt, and sensing my attentions had shifted from herself to the boy, she promptly set out to investigate the competition.
"Arka, come on girl. Leave the men alone," I called out to her, but it was no use. She was dutifully ignoring me now. After briefly sniffing Sexy Boy she took an interest in their game of catch, and began energetically chasing after the ball as they tossed it around. This got a laugh out of them and they continued to throw the ball, but more slowly and lower, making Arka think she had a chance of catching it. It was an impromptu game of Pickle- dogs vs. humans. I jogged over to break it up.
"Sorry," I apologized while looking Sexy Boy in the eye. "She's got a lot of energy and likes to play fetch. She's friendly." He had a pair of soulful brown puppy dog eyes. I could look into those for a long time, but I pulled my gaze away to look at the other two guys.
"Hey, don't worry about it, bro. She's got spunk! What's kind of dog is it?" one of the others asked.
"Blue-blooded mutt. I rescued her from the shelter."
"What's her name?" asked my Sexy Boy.
"Arkadyevna when she's been bad, Arka the rest of the time." He gave me an odd, quizzical look. I've seen it before. He's thinking, "Arka-wha?" It's definitely a little more exotic than Fifi or Spot. "I'm sorry she butted in like that. We'll get out of your way." I nabbed Arka by the collar as she passed by, starting to turn and leave them be.
"No!" Sexy Boy interjected. "It's ok. She's having fun. Why don't you stay and throw with us? She can chase as much as she likes." He had a nice timbre to his voice, and seemed almost earnest that I stay. I was starting to pick something up on the gaydar with this boy. "I'm Tommy, and that's Gary and Paul," he said, pointing to the other two in turn.
I hesitated. "I'm Jase. You sure you don't mind?" They all three looked 20 or 21. I'm 29--an awkward age when you're just that little bit too old to hang out with the college kids, and that little bit too young to hang out with the 30-something crowd. I wondered how the other guys would feel having an "old" guy hanging around.
"Nah, it's cool, bro," Paul answered. "Hey, with you around we could play a little 2 on 2 touch now. You up for it?"
I smiled back at Paul, and looked at all three of them as I answered with a cocky grin on my face. "I wouldn't want to show you little boys up. I played receiver at State."
"Bring it on, Old Man!" Gary laughed back. "You're a big guy. We'll team you with Tommy to even the playing field." There was no argument that Tommy was the smallest of us, while Gary and Paul were both about 6 feet with slightly more powerful builds, though nowhere near my stature.
"Hey!" Tommy responded indignantly at the implication.
I leaned in towards him with the sexiest grin I could muster and raised my eyebrows innocently. "It's their loss, Tommy. They're gonna find out soon how hard it is to catch a guy with a lean and fast build like yours. I'll throw and keep `em off ya." He responded with a shy grin and a nod, and his cheeks were a little more pink than they were a moment ago. Dang if he wasn't just the sweetest thing when he blushed!
We agreed where the end zones and boundaries would be and squared off against each other. Tommy and I had possession first, and on the call he took off past Gary and Paul while they scrambled to cover us. They tried to keep him covered, but just as I had suspected Tommy was lithe, graceful, and fast. He could turn on a dime to shake them and outrun them both. Occasionally I'd almost forget to throw him the ball because it was beautiful just watching him move.
It didn't take long before our game of touch football denigrated into a game of tackle. Arka was bounding around with excitement at all the fun, and would occasionally howl for the victors of each play. After Tommy got clobbered a couple of times we decided to switch roles. Gary and Paul had their work cut out for them trying to take me down after that. During one play I even had them both hanging onto an ankle each as I dragged them slowly down the field for a touchdown. I vainly hoped Tommy was impressed by my prowess. When I turned to smile down the field at him I saw he was watching me intently.
The sun had long gone down and we were having trouble seeing the ball in the twilight when Gary finally called the game. "I promised my girlfriend I'd take her out tonight," he offered as apology. Tommy and I teased him for looking for an excuse to end his and Paul's humiliation. Tommy and I were ahead by 42 points.
"Yo, I concede, bro! I concede!" Gary laughed, punching my arm. "I should have known how it was gonna turn out when the Hulk ended up on the opposite team!
"Hey, I took it easy on you lightweights! Besides, Tommy was your real threat. You two goons trying to take me down and all the time he's got full movement down the field! He racked up most our points." As I said this I casually laid my left arm around Tommy's shoulders. Looking down at him I said, "Put her here, partner," and high-fived him with my right hand. He grinned that toothy smile up at me that I was beginning to get used to.
Paul turned to Gary. "Hey bro, if you're going across town can you give me a lift home?"
"Sure, bud, c'mon. I got 30 minutes before I gotta meet Michelle and I really need a shower. You ok, Tommy?"
"Yeah, I'm good. I'll see you guys back at school Monday." (I knew from banter during the game that the three of them were friends from the community college here in town.)
"Alright, T. See ya, bud. Hey Jase, it was nice meeting ya. I want a rematch, though!"
I laughed. "Not enough punishment, Paul? Anytime, bud. I stand on my record. I got nothing to fear from you two goons!" They smiled and shook their heads at my playful cockiness, and after one last scratch behind Arka's ears they headed off the field towards the parking lot on the opposite side of the pond.
Arka, Tommy and I were left standing there on the field in the increasing dark. The children and the happy couple had long since gone, leaving the park eerily quiet, with just the sound of traffic off in the indistinct distance. My arm was still around Tommy's shoulders. Tommy was watching Paul and Gary walking off and getting into Gary's car. He seemed almost nervous to look at me now that we were alone. I took the opportunity to drink in the sight of him. He was still holding the football, and the way he held it seemed sensual to me just then. Youth and innocence exuded from him. He was such a beautiful boy.
Finally I broke the awkward silence. "You have a ride home?" He looked up at me briefly, but couldn't quite look me in the eye. "Yeah, I'm parked over there," he said, pointing to the lot where my Mustang was parked. There was only one other car there, a beat up old Honda Civic from the looks of it. Standard college kid wheels. We stood in silence for another few seconds before Arka let out a loud yawn. We both chuckled.
"I'm feeling about the same myself. And I must stink pretty bad- I haven't had a shower all day," I said, suddenly conscious of how I smelt. I wondered if Tommy found it offensive. Just then I could swear I saw him inhale discretely. He hoarsely croaked out something that could have been a "nah" but I wasn't sure. Inwardly I smiled to myself, being pretty sure I had his number now.
With a little nudge I started steering us towards the parking lot. Tommy didn't say or do anything about my arm which was still around his shoulders, and I had no intention of removing it myself. If he liked the scent of me, as I suspected he did, I thought it only kind to allow him to continue discretely smelling me. We walked slowly, casually, with Arka in tow. We were in no rush.
"So what are you studying in school, Tommy?"
"Business," he replied simply.
"Yeah? I majored in Business at State once upon a time. It's useful- not like an English degree," I joked. He chuckled a little. "It's helped me out a great deal. I don't have to hire a manager for my garage- I can take care of all the office details myself."
"You own a garage?" he asked, looking up at me. I took the opportunity to look into those soulful brown eyes again.
"Yup. Becket Auto Clinic downtown. I put my degree to use while still being able to get my hands dirty."
"Oh, I know where that is," he answered. "It used to be a dump, but it looks real good now. You did a good job fixing it up." And then out of the blue, "Did you really play for State?"
"Yes," I chuckled, grinning at curiosity. I mussed his hair a little. He didn't seem to mind. His golden locks were soft and silky. I could have run my hand through them forever, but it was only a second or two. I felt easy with him, like I'd known him much longer than just a couple hours. I suspected he felt the same, though he had a reticent demeanor around me now that Paul and Gary were gone. Possibly he felt a little intimidated by my size. "I was on scholarship. It was the only way I was gonna get an education. Pop didn't make enough to pay for me to go."
"We don't have much, either," Tommy replied. "That's why I'm at the community college. I wasn't the greatest student in high school, so I didn't get any academic scholarships. I was good at soccer, but nobody seems to give out athletic scholarships for that."
"You a junior now?" I asked.
"Senior."
"How old are you?"
"22. How old are you?" he asked while looking at me sideways.
"29. You look a bunch younger than 22, little bud," I teased.
"Yeah? We'll you look 50, old man," he shot back. He lightly tapped me in the stomach with his fist to show he was teasing.
"Oof! I'm wounded!" Well, not really. He was responding to my flirting, and I was feeling like a million bucks for it.
I was starting to feel the pressure of our parting. I was attracted towards him like I'd never been attracted to another man in my life- and that's saying a lot for someone who's played the field as much as I have. But I could also tell already that Tommy had a terrific personality, too. He was fun, he was a little bit shy, and came off as a very sweet guy. There was also a subtly submissive air about him that just pushed all the right buttons for a top guy like myself. I really wanted to see him again. Heck, what I really wanted was to take him home with me right then! But I could tell Tommy was the kind of boy who deserved to be courted a little more slowly than that. It was then, as I was looking for some kind of an opening, that he looked ahead as we were reaching the parking lot and noticed my own car for the first time.
"Wow! Is that yours? Holy cow!"
"Yup. Rescued it from the brink of oblivion. Took me over a year to fix it up."
"I'm not a car guy but I know that's a Mustang," Tommy said, walking around the car inspecting it. "What is it? A '66 or something?"
"'64. Or, more accurately, a '64 1/2."
"Wow," he marveled again. "It must be great having a car like this. I always wanted a convertible myself, but, well, you know. I haven't got that kinda money. One day, though..."
He stood next to the Mustang, moving his hand gently across the curve of the hood. I moved up behind him, reaching past him with my left arm and resting my hand on the hood not far from his. I left a little room between us, but not much. I was letting him know I was interested. He could move away from me to the right if he wanted, but instead he turned around to face me.
"Yeah? Well, maybe I'll have to let you give it a spin sometime," I said while looking down at him. He didn't answer right away. Instead I thought I saw him inhale, as if he were secretly sniffing me again. The faintest of groans seemed almost to come from him then, but he quickly covered it up by speaking.
"That would be nice," he said.
I flashed him a brilliant smile.
I suddenly looked up, pretending as if an idea were just occurring to me. "Hey, you know... tomorrow's Saturday, and I have the day off. And I hear the weather's going to be just as nice... What'dya say? Are you really up to taking this baby for a spin?"
"Are you kidding? Well heck yeah! That would be really awesome! Oh wow!" He was having a hard time controlling his excitement at the idea. I smiled at the thought of being able to make him so happy while satisfying my own need to see him again at the same time.
"We can take it out on the highway, head up to New Hampshire and tool around on the back roads there, let you really put her through her paces."
He finally looked up at me eye to eye. "I'd really, really like that, Jase."
Hearing him say my name sent vibrations through me. I was already semi-hard in my boxer briefs, and if we stood close together like that any longer I was liable to take him right here on the hood of the Mustang. As sexy as that thought seemed, I knew it wasn't the way I'd really like to have him. I moved around to the side of the car to let Arka into the back seat. "Why don't you give me your phone number and I'll give you a call in the morning?"
"Sure. Do you have a pen?" he asked.
"Let me check," I answered, rummaging around under the seat in search of one. All I found was a pack of gum. "Hmm, I'm not sure I do. Why don't you tell it to me and I'll try to memorize it."
"It's ok; I think I've got a pen in my car." He trotted off to his Civic and I followed him. He unlocked the passenger side door and rummaged inside the glove compartment before quickly producing a pen. "I don't think I've got anything to write on, though," he said, frowning.
"Sure you do, right here." I offered him my wrist to write on. He smiled shyly and tentatively held my hairy, muscled forearm with his graceful hand while he pressed the ink into my skin. 383-4689. The number was just as quickly imprinted into my mind as it had been inked into my skin. I couldn't forget it even if I'd wanted to. He held my arm for a few extra moments after writing his number down before letting go.
"Thanks for inviting me to play ball with you, Tommy. I had a great time. And so did Arka," I added, looking briefly over my shoulder towards where Arka sat snoozing in the back of the Mustang.
He smiled, and opened the car door and got into his Civic. "What time tomorrow, Jase? I mean, you know... just so I know when to be ready for you?"
"How's 10 o'clock sound? I'll give you a ring and you can tell me how to get to your house." "Ok, great. I'll be ready!" He started up his car. It was loud-- he needed a new muffler. I filed that little bit of information away for future use. Maybe I could offer to fix it for him. It'd give me another excuse to see him again beyond tomorrow.
"Have a good night, Tommy."
He gave a little wave, and with that he drove off. I watched his tail lights move off down the drive, and then turn onto the main street and disappear. I walked back to the Mustang and got in. "He's really something, isn't he girl?" Arka gave a sniff of approval before rolling over onto her side in the back seat.
Usually I head into the city on Friday nights and hit the clubs, but tonight it didn't seem to be necessary. Thoughts of the beautiful Tommy floated around in my head, and he by far eclipsed anything I'd ever find in the bars. And even though we'd only just met, in the back of my mind I was forming some long-term intentions involving him, assuming he was interested me. (And I planned to employ every last ounce of my charms to make sure that he was.)
Instead I headed home, fixed myself a light dinner, showered and shaved, and watched a little bit of television. Afterwards I lay in bed for a bit reading a worn copy of Herodotus. Arka snoozed quietly at my feet. I tried to focus on the text, but I had to admit defeat when I realized I'd reread the same paragraph about five times without absorbing a word of it. I couldn't stop thinking of Tommy- the thought that I would be seeing him again had me excited with anticipation.
I reached over and put the book on the nightstand and turned out the light. I lay there thinking of Tommy's body--they way his tummy looked when his shirt rode up as he jumped up to catch a high throw, his shy way of looking at me, his ass in those shorts that showed it off perfectly, the golden hairs on his sexy legs. Without realizing it I had my hand in my boxers and was slowly squeezing my large dick.
I began to imagine Tommy in more sexual situations as I started jacking myself. I wondered what he would look like naked, what he would look like sucking my dick, how his ass would feel when I fucked him... But the sexiest thought of all was of what those silky golden curls would feel like resting on my chest as we fell asleep together. Before I knew it my balls were churning out a thick load of cum out onto my hairy chest and stomach. I used some tissues from the nightstand to clean up before rolling over and trying to get some rest, but even still I had a hard time getting those images of Tommy out of my head.
More to follow... [Feel free to send comments to nshairytop@excite.com. This is my first attempt at writing for Nifty. Be gentle on my ego. The story is only just getting started so there is no real sex in it- yet.]