"Nice place. You got a pool?" Keith asked.

"No, I'm afraid not," I said.

"We used to skinny dip over Gary's. I like swimming naked. Freedom is what it's about. Letting it all hang out so other dudes know what you got."

"Yeah," I said, remembering when I was younger and did things like that with the boys I went to school with so I could see what they had.

We sat drinking our beers and except for an occasional period of wandering throughout my lower floor, Keith seemed content with staying in the living room and making small talk. During one excursion he picked up the pictures as he came to them and studied the people in the frames.

I became nervous when he picked up Ben's picture and stared deeply into it for an endless amount of time like he thought he would find something hidden if he looked long enough. He sat it back down without commenting but I could see the question on his face.

He sat at the dinning room table and we talked most of the way across the two rooms for a few minutes. He talked softly and it was difficult hearing what he said, especially when the drawl kicked in. He walked into the kitchen and came right back out once he had gotten up from the table. I was starting to think he might be setting me up for a future visit, when I wasn't home. I watched him walking back into the living room as he sipped from his beer.

"That's the one that lived here with you, right?"

His words were cautious but there was a curiosity he couldn't hide. He nodded at Ben's picture in case I wasn't sure what he meant. He leaned back in the easy chair where Ben used to sit and waited for me to comment or not. He seemed ready for whatever I might say.

"Yeah, that's him. He left a few months ago."

"You were together a few years?"

"Three."

"You must of cared for each other quite a bit. I went with a chick eight months one time, but I'm younger than you."

"Yeah, I never went with anyone for any length of time when I was your age. No one at all actually. I didn't know what I wanted back then."

"Played the field?" He observed. "Or you were afraid to say what you wanted?" He asked after a short lull.

"More played stupid. I wasn't convinced I was ... I mean it isn't like I didn't know what I felt but if I didn't act on it I thought I could convince everyone else I felt something else. The catch is I always knew the truth about myself. In spite of all the lies, I knew what I was. Wasted a lot of energy trying to convince others, and I don't think they really cared. I don't know I fooled anyone," I said, not knowing why I went into such detail.

"You dated girls?"

"In high school. Not in college."

"You date guys in college."

"Later on. Not at first. I mainly studied as strange as that may seem. I didn't like many guys I met."

"No, if that's what you do it doesn't seem strange at all. You've done well? Nice house and all. Nice things. You're having a good life."

"Yeah, good life," I said, not bothering to try to sell the idea.

It hadn't been good since Ben left me, mostly work.

"Can I ask you something personal?" He asked, leaning forward in the chair and looking at me closely.

"Sure. Why not?"

"Why don't you change clothes. Get out of that rig of yours and into something more comfortable. That's got to be a killer after all day in it. I'll go sit with you while you're change. I don't steal nothin' from no one what don't deserve it. I'm here for the beer and the company is all. Why don't you get comfortable? It'll be more fun for both of us if you do."

"I guess I would be more comfortable. I left the house before seven this morning. Just too tired to change if you want to know the truth."

"Wow, that's a long day. It's close to eight now."

"Fridays are a long day for me."

"I'd say."

"I'll need to go upstairs if you want to come along."

"Sure. Let me get a fresh beer just in case if you don't mind. You want one?"

"No, I'm still working on this one. You help yourself, Keith. You don't need to ask."

"It's good beer. It's got more flavor than what I usually drink."

"What's that?"

"Whatever I can get. Believe me, it isn't usually Sam Adams. I appreciate it."

"I don't like the regular beers," I said.

"Is he cute," he asked, losing me for a second as we went upstairs.

"Your friend? The one in the picture down there? Guys all look a like to me. I was wondering if that's what you think of as cute."

"Yeah, Ben was hot. He was beyond cute."

"I'm way thinner than him though," he said apologetically.

"He gained weight toward the end. He was way thin when I met him. Shorter than you."

"Oh, cool," he said seeming delighted. "I'm not too tall?"

"Too tall? No way. You're built nice. I like taller guys."

"Cool," he said.

We chuckled again and he followed me to my bedroom. It occurred to me that I didn't know the boy and I had no idea what kind of a person he was, and I had him in my house wandering around all over the place. And yet I felt I did know him. I knew enough about him to sense he was harmless and basically honest if you didn't deserve otherwise. I was quite curious about him but as close as he stayed, I thought he was curious about me as well.

He was searching for life as I had, only he was searching the streets and back roads of life and I had searched the corridors of higher learning. The luck of birth had seen to it that I would get a fine education if I could pay attention long enough. I suspected that the luck of Keith's birth saw to it that he was fed fairly regularly if not three times a day. I saw him being guided by men that sat on the front porch in soiled T-shirts sucking down beer after beer and handing around a whiskey bottle that was gift wrapped in a brown paper bag. His drawl told a long story, as did the words he chose for himself.

"You sleep with him here? That guy?"

"Ben," I said.

I'd met Ben when he came in for a job placement. He knew I was gay from first glance. I was still working on the concept at the time. I tried the bars but they were filled with guys I didn't want to know. His warm smile and lack of interest in anything but my baby blues left me breathless. He gave me his phone number and said I should call any time if I could find a position that was right for him. Neither of us thought he was talking about employment. In a few weeks he was positioned in my house, cooking my meals and doing my laundry for me. Chores I hated and he loved.

"You hungry?" I asked, getting out of my shirt and realizing I had offered him nothing to eat.

He walked all the way around my bed, never taking his eyes off it. His fingers dangled down and touched the crochet bed cover my aunt had made for me when I first bought the house. He looked at it as though it was the most amazing thing that he'd ever seen.

"Yes, I am," he said, once he was done with the needlework and looked up at me.

"My Aunt Marie sent that after I moved into the house. Lovely isn't it? She was always crocheting when I was around her as a boy."

"Yes, lovely," he repeated. "I always slept with a gray wool navy blanket as far back as I can remember. Until I left home a few years back. My father clipped it from his military days. Said it was a small price for the sacrifice he made."

"Do you want to go out or maybe order pizza?"

I was pulling on a pair of jeans as he turned to think about the question. He made no bones about checking out my body. He waited for me to start fastening my pants before he answered. I thought we could have gotten it on just then by the way he let me see him looking at me. He seemed unperturbed when I failed to take him up on his obvious interest.

"It's up to you. You've worked all day. If you want to stay in that's fine or if you like going out to eat, that's good too. I'm easy as long as there's beer when we get back. You like massage?"

It was a throwaway line that wasn't lost on me.

"Giving or getting?" I said, not letting him see my rising interest. "I don't know much about giving one."

"I'm good with my hands ... in all respects. Get on your stomach and I'll show you what I got."

Just before I dropped down on the bed he derailed my train of thought.

"Try the floor. Looks clean. It's better on a hard surface."

I bet, I thought, letting mind sink toward what I suspected was our destination.

His knees were on either side of my waist right away. His thumbs dug into the area near my backbone just below my neck. His fingers gripped down into the hollow near my collarbone. He worked his hands hard but never hard enough to be completely uncomfortable. Feeling him on top of me raised my temperature several notches as he shifted while he worked.

"You have a nice build for someone your age," he said.

"I guess. We used to play tennis and jog, Ben and I. The guy in the picture."

"I remember his name. I play tennis. I'm not very good. Do you have an extra racket?"

"He only played because I played. Yeah, his racket is in the utility room with other things I don't like to look at."

"Golf clubs? Bikes? Weights? In-lines?"

"We did ride bikes. I've always wanted to play golf but I've never had the time. It's silly because I do laundry every weekend and see the stuff anyway. I should get rid of it."

"You keep hoping he'll come back for it, right? Maybe want to get it going again because alone ain't as easy as together, right? Most things we do for a reason, wouldn't you say."

His fingers kept working as his chest leaned warmly down toward my back. He worked his way out to my shoulders and up on my neck before working his way down my backbone until he reached the top of my jeans. I felt his fingers feeling just below my belt line.

"I could do better if you got naked but it's way too early for that. I played golf with an old guy I lived with for a few weeks once. I wasn't very good but he wasn't much better. It's an interesting game if you do boredom well. At least you do it outside."

"What happened to him?" I asked, listening to the inflection in his voice.

"He wanted to play with someone else after a while. I was in the way. It's like that with old guys. I mean they don't seem to want anyone to stay around for long."

"You've been around," I said.

"Never said I hadn't. I been where I needed to be, I guess. If there was something to find out I wanted to find out about it. I've always been that way. Gets me in trouble some times but I never done no one no harm."

"What I meant was you are pretty smart. Experienced. You've done things."

"First time I heard that word aimed at me. Most people think I'm pretty dumb."

"You know a lot of things. You can't be stupid if you know the kinds of things you know. Book smarts aren't always how you measure intelligence. Practical experience teaches you many things. Some of the most important things you need to know about life."

"Amen to that," he said, standing up over me. "I try to learn about everything if I get the chance. As long as someone don't yell at me I can hold my own."

"Like massage," I said. "How many guys know how to give a good massage?"

"Yeah, a guy picked me up one time who was a physical therapist. I thought that was pretty damn neat. He showed me this stuff. He's the one who said I got good hands. He should know about a thing like that. It being his business and all, you know. Roll over on your back sos I can do your front. Even you out some. Wouldn't want you walking crooked on me."

"Ah, you think you should? I feel fine now. That was nice, Keith."

"Look, everyone gets a bone. It ain't no big deal. Not usually anyway. I told you I got good hands. You're pretty uptight about the sex stuff, huh?"

"No! I do fine with sex," I said, trying to sound confident even though I wasn't.

"Look, this isn't about the sex stuff. It's about us getting to know each other, you know. I figured you'd enjoy it after a long day and it's kinda personal without us like grouping each other right off."

"It's just that I don't know you that well. I don't want you to think I do this with everyone I meet," I said in my best rational. "I don't."

"You're afraid of being touched? What did you bring me over here for if you weren't thinking we might hit it off? You got to learn to let loose when you can. People don't know how to enjoy themselves these days."

"It's just that you're so direct. I'm not sure how to deal with that."

"You'd prefer I lie to you? It's about relaxing. What are you afraid will happen if you let go a little? I ain't afraid to let go. Now, am I going to do your front or not?"

"I don't know," I said, not having an answer. "I feel like I'm nineteen and you're thirty."

"Good, roll over on your back. I'll do your chest for you."

I reluctantly rolled over. He straddled my waist and immediately went to work on my shoulders and chest. Each of his thighs hugged mine firmly and the expanded portion of the front of my pants rested on the spot up between his legs as he worked on my chest. As he moved his hands around my body his body shifted suggestively on me. I noticed the swelling in his pants and it just got me going even more. He worked carefully but avoided my eyes.

"I'm glad you aren't like Gary," he said. "When I touched him, for any reason, he had to get right to it, you know. I mean I couldn't hug him or touch his arm when we didn't have to do it right away. It's the only way he'd let himself be touched. After a while I just didn't try. I'd never have done this for him. He'd a been trying to climb up my ass by now."

"You said to let myself go. It sounds like he let himself go," I said, trying to offer some insight. "Gary's the guy with the pictures?"

"Yeah, you got it, but he wasn't about letting himself go go, that's thinking every touch is about sex. Letting yourself go is enjoying what you're doing while you're doing it. Gay guys have a lot of trouble with that."

"I don't understand," I said.

"If I like someone I touch them on account that's the way I am. It's the way my family is. We're always hugging and kissing on each other. Not so much my old man maybe, but the women and all my cousins and me. It's the way we are. If I don't like someone I don't touch 'em. I avoid it so they don't get the wrong idea because I don't' want to be doing it with no one I don't want to be doing it with, you know."

"That sounds reasonable."

"Because I touch you and get turned on from it, even when I turn you on too, doesn't mean I got to get right down on you or we'll all die or something awful will happen. Some times you let it go and just ride along knowing you got it for each other. Take your time getting to the main event, you know. Get it up and let it stay that way so the guy you're with knows it's for them. You can know it and just be turned on together. I don't know how to explain it any better than that. It sounds stupid when listen to myself."

"No it doesn't. You said it perfectly. I never thought of it that way. I guess I do feel that way. I like feeling this way."

"What way?" He asked.

"What way?" I asked, getting lost.

"Say it out loud why don't you? Don't repeat what I say to you. Admit it out loud once. Let yourself go. Let me know about it why don't you?"

"It's almost an obligation if you get someone hard. I don't know why I feel that way. I've done it when I didn't want to just like you said. Just because the other guy got hard and he made me feel obligated to take care of it for him. Speaking of sounding stupid, how stupid is that?"

"See! You're beginning to feel it."

"I've been feeling it ever since I picked you up."

"My dicks hard too and I'm done. No big deal, see? You got a nice body, The Don. I like guys with some meat on them. You lift weights or something?" Keith asked, standing up over me and arranging himself so it was straight up in his pants instead of pushing out in his right pant leg like he let it do before.

He kept his hand on it until he made sure I was watching the operation.

"I go to Holiday Health Spa out on Central Avenue. We passed it right before we got back on the Beltway."

"Yeah, I know where that is."

"I lift a little. Nothing big. Just to stay firm."

"It looks nice on you. You're not skinny like me."

"Thanks," I said, thinking I should be the one flattering him.

I put on my shirt as he turned to go back down stairs. I ordered pizza and we drank another beer while we waited.

"Let's watch a movie after he leaves," Keith suggested.

"Sure."

"Great! Any fucking doggy style?" He asked.

"Yeah, lots of that."

"Rimming?" He asked, turning up the beer bottle.

"One is all rimming," I said.

"Can we watch that first?" He asked, shaking the empty bottle to see if there might be a few drops left. "I like to watch the guy's faces when they're gettin' at done to 'em, you know. I could shoot just watching. Are you cool with that?"

"Sure," I said.

He used his hand on the front of his pants and held tight so I could see how it was still up and outlined by the material. He didn't look to see if I was looking this time. He seemed to be looking for himself as he felt the entire length in careful increments. His legs had spread wide open and he looked totally at ease with me sitting there observing his appreciation for himself.

"I like feeling it when I'm stiff. You like to jerk off?"

"Sure!"

"Do you get that excited about everything you like?"

"Keith, I don't know what to say. I've never had anyone ask me about it. What would you like me to say?"

"I got to get real about what I like. Try it on. See if it fits me or not. I'd say something besides sure maybe."

Keith got up and I watched him carry the empty bottle toward the kitchen. I watched him coming back from the kitchen and I suddenly realized he was way hotter than I thought he was. It wasn't just his looks that drew me to him. There was something quite refreshing about him. I'd never met anyone that got right to the point faster than he did. He might not have been Albert Einstein but he was no body's fool.

As he walked it left an impression on his pants that I couldn't ignore. While I stared at his third rail, he stopped in front of me and extended his hand with a cold Sam Adams in it while my mind wondered.

"I like beer but I don't like drinking alone."

I blushed because I knew he knew exactly what was on my mind. He smiled and went back to the easy chair to make it easier on me.

We waited for the pizza in silence as I went over the movie list in my head. "Bottoms Up" would be the feature presentation for the evening.


Send Rick an email at quillswritersrealm@yahoo.com

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"Keith's Pictures" Copyright © 2002 OLYMPIA50. All rights reserved.
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