Super Jeff

The following story is a work of gay fiction. If the subject matter is offensive to you or you are too young, please exit now. This work is the property of the author and may not be reproduced without permission. John Tucker, JETjt@aol.com

SUPER JEFF

Chapter Six

CHRIS' POV

The day went as Jeff had planned. After our tiring run we dug into the rest of Jeff's schedule. Honestly, he had far more to do than I. Besides golf and the dreaded workout, Jeff also had his piano practice and lesson as well as his English lesson. Part of the break time for me was spent resting, recouping from Jeff's athletic schedule. The rest was spent reading Nifty stories. I took my last golf lesson and afterward we practiced hitting the ball, as well as taking some time learning how to get out of sand traps. By the late afternoon I was tired. Our last planned activity had been our workout. By the time we'd finished and rinsed off in the shower, immersing myself into the hot tub sure felt good to my aching body. The hot dip was followed by another cooling off shower, then into the sauna for another heat-up. A quick plunge in the cold pool brought me back to full alert before we dashed into the shower a final time, covering our bodies with warm spray and then building up a good coating of suds before rinsing off. My skin had never felt so squeaky clean. All of this was done naked which was almost overload seeing Jeff nude and would have caused an obvious problem had it not been for my physical exhaustion.

Returning to the house we got dressed for dinner. Jeff's folks had come home during our time in the gym building and by the time we descended the stairs, they were preparing themselves a cocktail.

"Would you guys like anything?" Dr. Jeff asked.

"What do you have that's good for muscle pain?" I answered with another question.

"I have just the thing if you're not going out this evening," he promised as he chuckled.

"We're staying home," announced Jeff. "Fix me whatever you have in mind for Chris."

"Two rum-and-cokes coming up," Jeff's dad responded as he moved to the back of the bar and started making the drinks. When he was finished he handed them to us.

"Mmmm! Hey this is pretty good," I complimented the bartender.

"I thought you'd like it," Dr. Jeff replied. "It's a good starter drink."

We chatted with the `rents about our day as we sipped our drinks. It was not long before I felt a warm calmness seep through my body. Soon afterward I started giggling at things that were being said, even though I'm sure they weren't that funny.

"It's nice to know we have a cheap drunk in the family," Jeff kidded.

The words struck me hard as I thought of my dad. The smile went from my face and I placed the empty glass back on the bar, vowing to never drink again. Jeff noticed my abrupt change in attitude and immediately knew what was wrong. "I'm sorry Chris," he said apologetically, "Guess I hit a nerve."

"It's not your fault," I responded, "what you said just reminded me of my dad."

"All the more reason to be sorry," Jeff declared, not letting himself off the hook.

"I'm just going to have to get used to it," I said. "I can't let that SOB ruin my life."

"That's the spirit Honey," Dr. Mel chimed in.

"Yes," Jeff's dad added, "You're ours now. My lawyer filed the irrevocable guardianship papers today. You never have to see your Dad, Mom or siblings again unless you want to."

"Really?"

"Yup," Dr. Mel said with assurance. "It's all done."

"Congratulations Bro," Jeff said smiling as he gave me a more than brotherly hug. I'm glad that Dr. Jeff offered me his hand in congratulations next. A hug at that stage would have revealed my reaction to Jeff's full body press. Getting myself quickly under control, the hug from Dr. Mel was without incident.

"Since the formalities are out of the way, I guess you could call me Dad now," Dr. Jeff offered.

"Uh... If you don't mind sir, I'd rather call you Pop. That way I won't be reminded of my sperm donor."

"I'd like that," my new `Pop' replied.

"I suppose that you calling me `Mom' is out of the question too," Dr. Mel surmised.

"No Ma'am," I responded. "I called the lady that gave me birth Mother' more than I did Mom.' I used the term Mom' only when I was talking about her with other kids, never to her face. I'd like to call you Mom."

"I'm glad," she said. "I never liked the term Mama' which was just about the only other choice. Its a child's term and is okay for the very young, but not for a practically grown man."

I smiled at the thought when Jeff asked, changing the subject, "When do you leave for Europe?"

"Tomorrow at noon," Pop replied.

"Do you need a ride to the airport?" Jeff queried.

"No, I'm having a limo service pick us up at 9 AM. I wasn't sure what your schedule was and I'd hate to ask you to change your plans," the older Jeff answered. "I presume you have plans?"

"Yes Sir," SJ said, "But we'd have gladly changed them. Tomorrow is Chris' first round of golf."

"That's more important than playing taxi for us," Mom declared. "You boys have a good time. Just make sure that you let Frank know if you're not going to be around for meals."

"I'll remember, even if Jeff forgets," I kidded.

"Hey bro!" Jeff responded with a light punch to my shoulder. "That's your big brother you're maligning!"

"What's a brother for if not for a little misalignment?" I asked with a happy wink, knowing that I'd slaughtered my response.

Pop and Mom laughed at our antics as Frank appeared.

"Dinner is served," he announced. "I took the liberty of preparing a nice going away dinner. I wanted you to remember what you'll be missing in Europe."

"I'm sure it will be great," Mom assured Frank as we moved into the dining room.

"I was startled by the table! It was beautiful! The best china, sterling and crystal gleamed on the stark-white linen tablecloth. Black napkins were arranged in peaks at each white plate which was encircled with a black band and gold border. Matching white and black accessories, such as two candelabra, white and black coasters and white and black butter dishes were place around the table. In the center of the table was a white and black bud holder from which sprang a half-dozen red roses. It took my breath away."

On each plate was a small menu card written in script:

First Course

Micado Soup en Croute

Second Course

Seafood Terrine with Sauce American

Third Course

Champagne Sorbet

Fourth Course

Filet Mignon and Mesquite Grilled Prawn

with Asparagus and Julienne of Carrots

Tomato filled with Northern Beans

Galette Potatoes

Fifth Course

Trio of

Chocolate, Vanilla, and Raspberry Mousse

Served with Sauce Famboise

"What is all this stuff?" I asked Jeff in a half-whisper once we were seated.

"I'm not sure about it all," Jeff admitted, but most of it is just pretty food. I know that the soup is a soup with oriental vegetables in a chicken stock with the top of the bowl covered with pastry, then baked. It's pretty good."

"The second course is a seafood salad of some type," he continued. "The sorbet is a tiny formed dab of solid frozen slurpee. It's supposed to `cleanse the palate' from the dressing on the salad, getting your mouth ready for the main course. Filet Mignon is, of course, steak, and the prawns are just big shrimp. The rest are just vegetables and are there to round out the main course.

"The dessert is a flavored mousse which is a foamy concoction. I'm sure it will be pretty because Frank loves screwing around to make dessert as pretty as possible.

Jeff had it down pat. It was all wonderful! Each course was served separately and was accompanied by wine for those that wanted it. I just asked for grape juice when it was offered. I'd had enough liquor earlier. The dessert was as pretty as it was tasty. It was served on a plate. In the middle of the plate was a small cylindrical tower' of chocolate just a bit larger than a small frozen orange juice can. The front of the cylinder had been carved out so that you could see inside the cylinder. Inside was another cylinder of freestanding mousse in layers of chocolate, vanilla and strawberry. Around the plate surrounding the chocolate centerpiece was an artist's dream. Squirted on the plate were brown vines' of what looked like liquid chocolate with some of the vines encrusted in leaves of green hard sugar, and the others ending in raspberry halves. It was almost too pretty to eat, but once I tasted it, I couldn't put down my spoon.

Frank reappeared after we had eaten the last course, asking us if we'd like coffee. We all thought that it would be nice, especially me, because at my old home I was never offered any. Mom and Pop ordered regular coffee, but suggested decaf for Jeff and me to prevent it from keeping us awake. That was fine with me, but I can tell you that after today's workout, I felt I could sleep on a brick!

Frank brought in the coffee and was greeted with a round of applause by the diners.

"Great meal!" Pop complimented the chef. "I'm sure that we'll miss your cooking while we're in Europe."

"It was wonderful," Mom added.

"I liked the dessert the best," I blurted out.

Everyone laughed, but I could tell that Frank was pleased.

JEFF'S POV

The dinner was filling even though the portions were not large. I mean, three asparagus is not exactly vegging out', so to speak. After coffee, the rents excused themselves saying that they still had packing to do. I don't know how that could be true since Frank had spent a good part of the morning making sure they had all the proper clothing ready. I guess it doesn't matter, because it was good to be alone again with Chris when we weren't busy doing something.

"I'm really impressed with your swing," I commented, thinking about our golf outing planned for in the morning.

"I didn't think it was noticeable," Chris responded with a grin.

"Oh I like that swing too," I retorted. "I was talking about your golf swing."

"Oh, that's disappointing. I thought you were gonna start talking dirty! I was getting all ready."

"Hey, if I'm gonna talk dirty to you, it sure as hell is not gonna be at the dining room table. I have a room much better equipped for the hoped-for result," I challenged. "It does remind me of a joke though.

"I didn't know you were a jokester amongst all your other talents," Chris responded. "Tell me."

"Well," I began. "There was a guy who really wanted a Harley cycle. He'd wished for one all his life, but he didn't have enough money for a new one, so he checked the ads in the paper. He wanted one that was perfect in every way though, so it took a while before he found the perfect bike. The black paint and chrome glistened and no oil, road tar or other foreign substances marred the gleaming surfaces. He bought the bike, but was so impressed with the bike's condition that he asked the former owner how he kept it so spotless. The guy took a tube of Vaseline out of his pocket and said, `I keep this Vaseline and a rag with me at all times. If I go out and see that my bike has been rained on, I immediately take out the Vaseline and polish it up. Since you have my bike now, I won't need the Vaseline so I'm giving it to you.'"

"The buyer thanked the seller and pocketed the Vaseline, announcing that he was taking his new bike over to his girl friend's house to give her a ride. When he arrived there, she rushed out to see his bike and said, I'm so glad you came just now. We've been invited to my parents' for dinner. I know you've never met them.' We can kill two birds with one stone,' the guy said. `I was going to give you a ride, so we can use my bike to go to your parents' house'."

"On the way over, the girl said to her boyfriend, `Oh there's one thing I need to tell you. My parents are a bit strange. Whoever talks at dinner has to do the dishes, so don't talk whatever you do'."

"The guy thought that it was weird, but didn't say anything. He understood though when he walked into the house. There were dirty dishes everywhere! The living room had dishes, dishes were stacked in the corners of the dining room, the kitchen was awash with dirty dishes."

"The dinner was nice, but strange since no one talked. It bugged the guy so much that he decided to put it to a test once they had finished dessert. He grabbed his girlfriend, threw her on the table and had his way with her, right in front of her parents."

"No one said a thing."

"It bugged him even more so he grabbed his girlfriend's mother and threw her on the table and ravished her as well."

"No one said a thing."

"When he had finished with the mother, he looked out the window and saw that it had been raining on his bike. He pulled the tube of Vaseline out of his pocket.

"His girlfriend's father took one look and shouted, `Okay, I'll do the damned dishes'!"

Chris cracked up laughing. I was so pleased to see his cute smile. Maybe he was getting over the trauma of being rejected by his parents.

"What do you want to do tonight?" I asked.

"I don't know I'm so tired and sore," Chris answered. "I feel that every time I move something hurts."

"Maybe we could just chill out and watch a movie or something," I suggested. "We're also invited out later to the beach at Huntington with a bunch of my friends if you want to go."

"I'm not sure about meeting your friends yet," Chris said. "I vote for the movies.

"It's still early so we have time to do both if we want," I informed my new brother. "I've got probably 200 movies. Some are VHS and the newer ones are on CD's."

"I probably haven't seen many of them," Chris responded. "If it wasn't on TV, I doubt if I've seen it as my parents never had the money for a movie theater."

"You've never gone to a movie theater?" I asked in shock.

"No," Chris replied looking downcast.

"Let's go to the movies tonight then," I suggested.

"Are you asking me for a date?" Chris asked with a sly grin.

"Well... yes, I guess," I stammered.

"I accept," Chris replied. "How will we know what's playing?"

"We'll go to one of the multi-screen theaters," most of them are playing everything that's new. The only problem is what time the feature starts. You can only go in at the beginning. It seems weird but my parents told me that when they were little and they had theaters with only one screen, you went whenever you wanted. You might get there in the middle of a picture, so you watched the ending, then afterward watched the beginning."

"That's really strange," Chris agreed. "I guess it worked though."

"We can go whenever you like," I offered. "We'll buzz by the theater, and if the movie we want to watch is not starting for a while, we'll go over to Cart World and race in some gocarts until it's time for the movie."

"That would be so cool," Chris said enthusiastically. "I've never done that either."

"It's time for your education then," I said. "Grab a sweater in case it gets cool, and we'll go."

Chris' POV

The movie was great! We had about 45 minutes before it began so after we paid for the tickets we went to the gocart place. What a blast! Even though I had a driver's license, I had rarely driven as we only had one car and my dad had it most of the time. The only time I got to drive it was when he wanted to stay home and mother wanted or needed something from the grocery or drug store. It was fun to drive something that went fast and you didn't have to worry about it breaking down.

Returning to the chosen movie we went inside and after loading up with popcorn, drinks and candy, sat together in the back. I couldn't believe how much we spent at the refreshment stand. It was more than the movie tickets! Jeff must have been showing off for me, buying all that food, or something because I still felt pretty full from dinner.

Sitting away from others we settled back, digging into our snacks, waiting for the movie to begin. I was stuffed by the time the lights dimmed and the previews came on. I couldn't believe how huge the picture screen appeared and how great the sound-system was. I knew that we had a theater room at `home' that was a smaller version of the movie theater we were in, but I never imagined that a real theater would be so great. I'd only watched movies on the 21-inch TV my parents had.

Halfway through the movie I felt Jeff's hand on mine. I turned my hand over and Jeff enveloped it with his own. For the first time I felt connected with my handsome friend. I still couldn't believe that Jeff was attracted to me, but there it was; my hand in his. I looked at Jeff's face and he was wearing a shit-eating grin as he stared straight ahead. I had completely lost track of the movie and sat there enjoying the closeness I was feeling.

When the lights finally came up, Jeff released my hand and we filed out of the theater.

"Wanna try the beach?" he asked.

"I'd rather not," I replied. "I'm really kind of tired and if we're playing golf in the morning we probably shouldn't stay up too late."

"I guess you're right," he conceded. "I'll call my friend and tell him we'll get together another time."

"You're welcome to go by yourself," I offered. "You'd probably have more fun without me."

"Not on your life Chrissie," Jeff said smiling. "I don't know if I've told you, but I savor every minute I spend with you. I've never felt this way with any other guy."

"I haven't either," I confessed. "I sure never thought I'd ever find someone as wonderful as you."

"Now who's trying to get into whose knickers?" Jeff asked with a soft laugh.

"Can't fault a guy for tryin'," I philosophized.

"Be careful what you wish for," Jeff warned. "I've never wanted anyone like I want you. I'm almost afraid to start something because I know I won't want to stop."

"I know," I agreed. "I feel the same way and it scares me."

By this time we were nearly home. Jeff reached up to the visor of his car and pressed a button. I could see down the street that the large iron gates were swinging open for our entry. Jeff pulled up the drive and drove around to the garage, pressing another button, causing the garage door to roll up. We parked and entered the house, hand in hand. Even though it was only 11:00 the house was quiet and dark with only the night-lights lit. Jeff didn't turn on the lights but crossed the dimly lit spaces to the large stairway going to our rooms. When we reached the doorway to mine, Jeff pulled me close and kissed me softly on the lips.

Separating after the long kiss, Jeff said smiling, "I'm glad you kiss on the first date."

"I hope you'll respect me in the morning," I kidded back.

Jeff laughed then turned serious.

"Chris, tonight was the best time I've had in a long time. Thank you."

"It was more than a treat for me," I replied." I got to experience a bunch of things I'd never done before, but the best part was being with you. I feel like I'm in a dream."

"If it's a dream, then I don't want to wake up," he replied. "You don't know how much I want to spend the night with you, but for now I guess we'd better just kiss and say good night. We've only known each other a few days, and I don't want to scare you off."

"I'm sorry I'm such a coward," I said. "Every fiber of my being wants to sleep with you, but my mind is still in turmoil. Thank you for being patient."

"I'll wait as long as I have to," Jeff promised. "I just want you to know that for me, this is not just lust, though there is plenty of that. I think I'm falling in love with you."

"I feel the same way too. I just can't believe it's real yet," I explained my reluctance. "These past few days have been like a dream. I just want to be sure that I'm not going to wake up and find you gone."

"I'll give you time, Chris. What I'm feeling is not going to go away. Goodnight Babe. Sleep tight. The next voice you'll here will be me waking you up for golf."

"I can hardly wait," I said looking up and the ceiling.

"I can tell," Jeff laughed. "Goodnight again."

With that, Jeff moved in and laid a killer kiss on my lips. At that moment I was ready to do whatever he wanted. Instead he pulled away, gave my hand a final squeeze and walked reluctantly toward his door.

• • • We arose early the next morning, and slipped downstairs after dressing to grab a bite before heading to the Club. Mom and Pop joined us before we were finished, and we wished them a fun time on their European trip. They gave us hugs and told us to have fun while they were gone before pushing us out the door.

8:00 AM found us standing on the first tee at the club. Jeff had bought me shoes, a golf glove, and had borrowed his dad's clubs for our outing. I was equipped with golf tees, golf balls, a digger to fix divots, and sported a new golf hat. The early morning fog was lifting and we were the fourth group to tee off, but the only one as a twosome. We had arrived 45 minutes earlier and had spent the time warming up at the driving range and had putted a little on one of the practice greens.

"After you," Jeff offered when it was time to hit.

I stepped up to the tee box, planted a tee with a ball on top, and stepped back to address the ball. I took a practice swing as Jeff had shown me, then stepped up to the ball. On my first swing I missed the ball completely. I was completely embarrassed.

"If you don't hit the ball, it doesn't count," Jeff assured me. "Relax. Don't try to kill the ball. The object is to hit the ball in the middle of the club. Remember all your practice."

I looked down the fairway. It looked so far down to the green. I gulped, addressed the ball and took another swing. This time I hit the middle of the ball with the edge of the club, and it squirted down that fairway about 30 yards.

"You could play that," Jeff observed, "but I think it's time for a mulligan."

"What's a mulligan?"

"It's a free shot. When you're not playing serious, the players agree on having one or two mulligans a round. Hit again."

I put another ball on a tee and swung again. This time the ball flew. It traveled maybe 160 yards, barely landing on the short fairway grass."

"Not bad," Jeff observed as he took my place on the tee box. He placed his ball, addressed it with his pre-driving routine, then swung. The club whistled through the air, striking the ball in the center of the club and driving it into the center of the `short grass'. The ball looked like it was going into orbit! It took off in a slow swoop, then kept climbing, finally dropping almost from sight as it landed 300 yards down the fairway.

"Not bad," I kidded back in awe.

"I've been practicing," Jeff commented with a wink.

We returned to the cart and headed off for our round. By the time we were through, I was thoroughly humbled. I had shot 105 and Jeff had scored a 74. In spite of my feeble showing, I had had a great time. Jeff was constantly encouraging and coaching me without being critical, even when I had a bad shot. As we drove the cart to the drop off area, he looked at me with a huge smile.

"I can't believe how well you played," he complimented.

"Yeah I scared a lot of ground squirrels," I retorted.

"Hey. Don't put yourself down. I've played with guys who have had years of experience but shot no better than you did on your first time out. Sure we have some work to do, but I'm really encouraged by how well you're doing. I've known guys that have taken several months to break 100. Look how close you came on the first time. If your putting had been just a bit better, you would have broken 100 easily."

"I'm glad you think I did well Jeff, but I felt awkward the whole round."

"That will change. Believe me," Jeff countered. "I'm sure I didn't break 100 any of the first few times I played. Of course I started off at a younger age."

"How long have you been playing?" I asked.

"Since I was seven," Jeff replied.

"Yikes! You've been playing over 10 years?"

"Yep," he responded. "Though I predict that you'll break 90 before the summer's out, and maybe score better than that."

"I guess that means more practice on the driving range, huh?"

"Every day, Babe. Every day."

I thought I would faint.

JEFF'S POV

That Chris is something else! Not only is he cute, he's talented. I don't mean just in writing either. I sense a latent athletic talent that I must see realized. I hope I don't wear him out pushing him.

The previous night was phenomenal! I wasn't joking when I told him how much I enjoyed it. What happened to my heart was unexpected though. I mean, I thought he was cute from the beginning, and he turned me on, yet last night was the first time that our hearts really spoke. I knew that falling for him would complicate my life, but my heart didn't listen to the reasoning of my head. I just knew that he had captured my heart and I vowed somehow to get him to feel the same way about me. He seemed to be falling for me too, yet had a fear or reluctance to get more involved. It had me a bit baffled.

His performance on the golf course was more than I had hoped for. A 105 on a pretty demanding course is not bad for a casual golfer but is almost unbelievable for a first timer. I think watching me hit was a bit intimidating for him, but I assured him that he was playing much better than I had ever expected. It was true too.

I could see that by the time we were done, he was tired. He had complained before we teed off that his muscles were still sore, but I was not surprised that they would be after the regimen that I had set up. I knew it would take a while. Athletic skills have to be built on a lot of practice. I was sure that being a skilled lover took practice too. I couldn't wait to start finding out!

Returning home I suggested that we should shower, then Chris could rest or do whatever he wanted while I practiced the piano. When I finished, I looked into his room. He was dead to the world. I let him sleep, waking him only when it was time for dinner. During the evening we watched a movie in our theater room and went to bed early after repeating the hand holding and kissing from the preceding night. Sunday is a day of rest and we took advantage of it by sleeping in until almost 10 `clock. We went out for brunch, then took a ride up the coast before returning home to just hang-out for the rest of the day. That night I asked Chris to spend the night in my bed. He paused and thought about it, then declined. I was disappointed, but not heartbroken. I'd only known Chris a week, I reasoned. I shouldn't expect too much, too soon.

The next week started off as planned and the schedule I had set up was adhered to without fail. Chris made rapid progress in his athletic development. We even took some time to shoot some baskets and throw a baseball around a bit. He wasn't very good at first but picked up the techniques with minimal instructions. I was surprised and pleased, and told him so. He seemed to be eating it up so I stepped up the pace. `This boy is gonna be an athlete,' I promised myself.

On Wednesday afternoon while I was practicing the piano the phone rang. Frank answered the call, then announced that it was Mr. Jepperson, the Principal from our school.

"Hello, Mr. Jepperson," I said into the receiver. "I'm surprised to hear from you. What can I help you with?"

"I'm glad I caught you," he responded. "I was afraid you might be away on vacation."

"We hope to get away before school starts," I replied, "But as of now, we're just home, working out and practicing golf." "I'm sure your leadership on the golf team will bring honor to our school as well as your leadership in our student government," he said. "Now for the reason for my call. As you might know, I work during the summer at the Boys' and Girls' Club camp at Big Bear. It just starts this week. One of our counselors broke his leg this morning and is `out of pocket' for at least three weeks. His friend who is also a counselor took him home and won't return until his friend is well enough to come back too. It's put us into a real bind. I called you, hoping that you might know one or two students from our school who could fill in for three weeks."

"Wow! That's too bad about the accident." I responded. "Let me check around. Give me your number and I'll call you back before noon tomorrow. I'll do my best."

After reciting the number, Jepperson added, "The pay is not too good. It's $100 travel money, and $80 a week for three weeks."

"I'm sure that the biggest advantage is the good experience," I countered, "not the money."

"That's what we promote when we hire counselors," he responded. "I'll wait anxiously for your call."

"Thank you sir. I'll try not to let you down." I hung up the phone and pondered his request, racking my brain to think of someone who might be interested.

"Who was that?" Chris asked entering the room after descending the stairs. He'd been reading in his room while I practiced.

"It was Mr. Jepperson from our school."

"The Principal? What could he want at the beginning of the summer?" Chris asked.

"He runs a Boys' and Girls' Club camp at Big Bear. One of the counselors broke his leg and his friend, who was also a counselor, took him home. Mr. Jepperson is short two counselors and called to see if I knew anyone who might fill in for three weeks."

"Did you tell him that we'd do it?' Chris asked.