I’d known I was gay since high school, but until I met Charlie, I’d never done a gay thing in my life. Living in a small Mid-west town, where everyone goes to the same church, everyone has Sunday dinner, and everyone knows everyone else’s business, exploring one’s sexuality can be problematical, to say the least.
I was twenty-five, almost six foot, with blue eyes, brown hair, and the kind of tan you can only get from spending long days on a tractor. I had my own place in town, but I still worked on my parents’ farm, so I was lean and strong, the kind of guy any girl would want, as my mother constantly pointed out. I had all kind of excuses, of course, but I don’t think she really bought them, she just pretended to, for everyone’s peace of mind.
I remember the exact moment that I first saw Charlie. I was coming out of the hardware store with a bag of nails and a bundle of cedar shingles under my arm. Some of the siding needed to be replaced on the old farmhouse and I finally had a free moment to get started on it. I glanced up as Ben, the town mechanic, drove his tow-truck past on his way to the garage, hauling a dusty black Camaro behind him.
Seated in the truck’s passenger seat and looking about as glum as a barn cat who missed the morning milking, was the most attractive man that I had ever seen. His black hair was long enough to keep falling into his eyes, which were the brightest, most startling shade of green that I’ve ever seen. He had high cheekbones and full lips, and while his hands were too large and his fingers too long to call them ‘girl’s hands’, they were clean and soft, no calluses, no dirt. I watched them drive past, a strange flutter in the pit of my stomach. I tried to ignore it and went on to my folks’ house to fix the siding.
That evening, I walked from my place to the local bar. Our town only has the one, and there isn’t much else to do after the work is done. I found an empty barstool and ordered a beer, letting the noise of nearby conversations and the clacking of billiard balls wash over me.
You always see in movies, when the stranger walks into a bar and the place goes silent. That didn’t happen here, but there was a noticeable shift in the atmosphere. Friendly laughter was replaced by snickers, easy conversation by tense whispers. I glanced over my shoulder, saw the handsome stranger standing in the doorway, and quickly turned back to stare down into my beer. My heart started to pound as the guy came over to the bar and sat down, leaving just one empty stool between us. Jimmy, sitting at the other end of the bar, got up and went to a table on the other side of the room. I knew I should probably leave, too, before people started getting ideas about me, but I felt like I couldn’t move.
The stranger ordered a beer and I sat silent as Duncan, the bar owner, filled a glass three-fourths of the way full and charged the guy twice as much as my drink had cost me. If the guy got the hint that he wasn’t welcome, he didn’t let it show. He sat there, drinking his beer while the room buzzed with spiteful conversation, words like queer and faggot and cocksucker flying through the air. I don’t know how he ignored it. The hostility wasn’t even directed at me and it made my skin itch.
Finally, he finished his beer, got up from the stool, and left. After the door had shut behind him, there was a momentary silence, and then the room exploded with harsh laughter and jeering. I couldn’t take it anymore. I drained my glass and headed for the door. I stopped to talk to Ben, the mechanic, about getting my folks’ tractor tuned up, and that was when Jimmy and his friends slipped out of the bar ahead of me.
When I got outside, I glanced around, looking for the stranger. I’m not sure why. I doubt I would have spoken to him, but I was curious, even though I was more convinced than ever that I could never let on that I was gay. If he was staying in town until his car could be fixed, there was only one place he could have headed. We have only one motel – a dumpy, six-room building on the edge of town – and I headed toward the flickering sign several blocks away.
I was past the alley before I heard a sound, not much different than one a kicked dog might make, but I knew it hadn’t been a dog. I knew exactly what it was, and my blood went cold as I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and looked back at the dark space between the back of the bar and the hardware store. I thought about walking away. I didn’t need trouble, but the cry came again, twisting my gut into a tight knot.
I knew I couldn’t take on Jimmy and his three friends in a fight, so I did the first thing that came to mind. I started shouting at the top of my lungs. “Sheriff! Sheriff Hauser! Over here! I think somebody’s being murdered!”
The sheriff was nowhere in sight, but it had the effect that I’d hoped. I heard cursing and the clatter of trashcans being knocked over, and when I peered down the alley, it was empty, except for the motionless figure lying on the ground. I rushed over, crouching down beside the stranger, and checked him for a pulse. I didn’t get a chance to see if he had one or not; he jerked away from me, his arm lashing out and nearly knocking me back on my ass.
“Take it easy,” I said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m here to help.”
“Why would you want to help me?” he asked, his voice soft, but tight with pain.
”‘Cause you need help,” I said. “Now c’mon, we better get out of here before those guys come back.” If Jimmy stopped to think about it, he’d realize that the Sheriff was home having dinner with his family that time of night. I didn’t want to be there if that happened. I grabbed the stranger by the back of the jacket and hauled him to his feet. He was several inches shorter than me, with a slender build. I could have carried him if I had to, but luckily he was able to walk, although not very fast and with a significant limp.
I considered the motel at the other end of town, and then my place, just a block away. If nothing else, I could drive him to his motel, although if Jimmy decided to finish what he’d started, that would be the first place he’d go looking.
I tugged on the guy’s arm. “C’mon, my place is closer,” I said. He stopped, looking up at me, his bright green eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“Why? So you can finish beating the shit out of me, or because you think I’m some kind of whore?”
“No, neither,” I said. “I just– It’s not right, the way people have been treating you. I’m sorry and I just want to help.”
He regarded me for another moment, his gaze moving slowly down my body. “I see,” he said. “What, are you queer, too?”
“No!” I said, louder than I’d meant to. I glance around to make sure no one was around to hear.
The guy starts laughing. “That’s a big, fat ‘Yes’ if I’ve ever heard one,” he said. “I bet being gay in this town is pure hell.”
I started to argue that I wasn’t gay, but there was no point. “It would be if anyone knew,” I said. “Now, do you want to come back to my place and get some ice, or do you want to try to make it to your motel before Jimmy and his friends find you? Doesn’t matter to me either way.”
“Sure, let’s go to your place,” he said. I gestured across the street and he took a pained step down off the curb. I kept an eye out for Jimmy, or anyone else, for that matter, but we made it to my house without being seen. It’s a crappy two bedroom with a crumbling foundation and peeling paint, but the rent is low and I don’t have to live with my parents.
With a groan, he lowered himself into one of my wooden kitchen chairs. I turned on the overhead light and finally got a good look at the damage Jimmy and his buddies did. The guy had a split lip and an angry red mark on one of his sculpted cheekbones that would definitely turn into one hell of a shiner before morning. I got some ice out of the freezer and wrapped it in a hand towel. He pressed it against the side of his knee, where a dark spot of blood had soaked through his jeans.
“Here, I got something for that,” I said and headed into the bathroom. I returned with a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a tube of antibiotic ointment, cotton balls, and a handful of bandaids. Setting everything on the table, I step back. “I’ll let you get cleaned up,” I said. “Yell if you need anything – I’ll just be in the other room.”
“I might need help getting my pants off,” he said, struggling to stand up without using his injured knee. I gave him a hand, but when he started to undo his jeans, I turned and headed for the living room. “Hey, where’re you going? I’ve got boxers on.”
“I- I just– I don’t even know your name.”
“I’m Charlie,” he said. “And you are?”
“Evan.”
“Nice to meet you. Now, can I get some help or not?”
I hesitated, then walked back over to Charlie and helped him work his jeans down around his ankles, trying to keep the stiff denim from scraping over the gash in the side of his knee. Out of breath and pale, he collapsed into the chair again, a slight tremor in his hand as he reached for the alcohol.
“I’ll get it,” I said, taking the bottle out of his hand kneeling down on the floor in front of him, wetting several cotton balls. He hissed in pain, drawing fast, sharp breaths through his teeth as I washed the wound. “Sorry,” I said and blew on it, the way my mother used to when I’d come home with a scraped elbow or knee. I smeared the ointment on the cut and had to use two bandaids to cover it. “All done,” I said, finally glancing up. I made the mistake of looking at his crotch, where his cock was tenting the front of his boxers. I quickly looked away, feeling my face heat up.
“Sorry,” he said, but made no effort to cover himself. “It’s been a while since I had a handsome guy on his knees in front of me. Have you ever sucked cock before?” I didn’t answer. I was torn between getting the hell out of there and seeing what would happen if I stayed. “Must be hard to find a piece of ass in a town like this. How far do you have to drive before you feel safe? Fifty miles? Seventy? Do you ever feel safe?”
I swallowed hard and shook my head.
“Have you ever been with a man?” he asked, his voice low and soft, somewhere between a whisper and a purr. I shook my head again. I tensed as he reached out, but I didn’t pull away as his smooth fingertips grazed the curve of my jaw. His touch was electric, making my heart race and my cock harden. He slipped his hand around to cradle the back of my neck, slowly drawing me toward him. I could have stopped him, I could have pulled away, but I didn’t. I let him pull me close, my hands resting on his thighs as I leaned forward, his lips finding mine and slowly stealing my breath.
I’d kissed my fair share of girls in high school – if I hadn’t I’d have been outed in a heartbeat – but this was as different as night and day. I could smell him, the manly musk of his skin and the fresh scent of aftershave, his lips hungry and demanding as he coaxed my mouth open and slipped his tongue in beside mine, heedless of the swollen cut on his lip. His hands combed through my short brown hair, stroking my neck as he groaned into my mouth.
He drew back, his skin flushed and eyes dark. “Have you ever done that before?” he asked. I shook my head. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No,” I said.
“Do you want me?”
“Oh, yes,” I whispered.
“You got a bedroom?”
I helped him out of his shoes, socks, and jeans, both of us hastily stripping off the rest of our clothes as I led the way down the short hall to my room. I had a pile of clean clothes on my bed, waiting to be folded and put away, but I swept them off onto the floor and turned to face Charlie wearing nothing but my tighty-whities, my cock straining against the thin cotton. I could do nothing but stare as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and worked them down, letting them slide down his legs. He kicked them off and took a hobbling step toward me, his stiff rod swaying back and forth. Suddenly nervous, I licked my dry lips.
“Come here,” he said quietly. “Get on your knees and suck my cock.” Then he smiled at me. “Please.”
I don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous, but I crossed the room and sank to my knees in front of him, licking my lips again as I considered the thick pole staring me in the face. The tip is already slick and shiny from the precum oozing out of the slit. “I’ve never done this before,” I warned him.
“Don’t worry about that,” he said, reaching out to run his fingers through my hair. “Just relax and do what feels natural.”
I leaned close and gave the head an experimental lick. Charlie had a strong, masculine flavor, but I thought I could get used to it. I opened my mouth and wrapped my lips around his shaft, hollowing my cheeks as I slid down his cock, feeling the ropy veins against my lips. It moved, twitching against my tongue as I tried to see how much I could take before I gagged. I was surprised to find that most of it fit without trouble, and if I wrapped my hand around the base, squeezing and massaging as I began to bob my head, I could work the entire length.
Charlie groaned, his hips twitching, and he curled his hand into a fist in my hair, moving slowly and deliberately as he pulled out of my mouth and thrust back in again. I let him, unexpectedly turned on to have him fucking my face. I moaned as his thick shaft filled my mouth again and again, my free hand shoving down the front of my briefs and freeing my aching cock. I jerked fervently, wanting to cum when he did, but then he suddenly pulled out, his chest flushed and his cock twitching as he gasped for breath, but did not cum.
“Up,” he said. “Get on the bed.” He followed me, stripping my underwear off as I climbed onto the bed. “Do you have lube?” I shook my head. “Bummer. I wanted to pop that sweet cherry of yours–” He grabbed my ass, squeezing my cheeks in his elegant hands. “But I know something else we can do instead.”
He stretched out on his back and we got into a 69, with me above him on my hands and knees, my head facing his feet and my knees spread on either side of his shoulders, my hard cock dangling above his face. He grabbed my hips and pulled them down, his tongue flicking against my cockhead before he swallowed me down, sucking and slurping as his hands gripped and kneaded my ass, his fingers teasing my hole. I’d always been too embarrassed and afraid to touch myself there, afraid that if I got caught, it would get around that I was a fag, so to feel his silky fingertips circling my tight pucker, I almost lost it then and there.
I captured his cockhead between my lips, swirling my tongue around the rim before taking him deep. He moaned, the sound vibrating through my cock, and I sucked harder, sure I wasn’t going to last much longer. I worked his balls with one hand, then, feeling daring, I slid my fingers down and stroked them along his ass crack. He responded by spreading his legs wide, and I paused in my sucking to peer at his rosy hole. Rubbing a fingertip across the pucker, I felt it flutter and soften.
I let Charlie’s cock slip out of my mouth, something primal, instinctual, burning with in me, driving me to grab his hips and lift them up, bringing his pink hole close enough for me to trail my tongue across it.
“Oh, fuck!” he gasped around a mouthful of my cock. Encouraged, I began licking his hole for real, pressing my lips tight against his ass to suck on the puckered opening before shoving my tongue inside him. He grunted, his cock jerking as he came, striping his stomach with thick strings of jizz, his soft hole clenching with each powerful wave of orgasm that washed over him. I wanted to be in that hole, to shove my cock deep into his ass and blow my load, to feel his muscles clench around me as I fucked him deep and hard. My hips jerked with a mind of their own as I plunged my cock into his mouth, imagining that it was his rosy entrance. He moaned around my aching meat and began to rub his fingertips against the spot just behind my balls.
I shouted in surprise and pleasure as I came, my hips snapping forward as I gasped and shuddered, my body wracked by waves of ecstasy. Charlie swallowed and licked my cock clean before gently pushing me off of himself. I collapsed onto the mattress, rolling over onto my back and rubbing my hands over my chest. I was still shuddering inside, my nipples tingling. I hadn’t realized that a guy’s nipples could tingle. I glanced over at him as he grabbed a handful of tissues out of the box on the nightstand to clean the cum off his stomach.
“What did you do to me?” I asked. “I’ve never cum that hard in my life.”
“Really? All I did was stimulate your prostate.”
“Well, it felt amazing.” I decided that I might have to risk trying it on my own when I jerked off sometime.
He gave me a crooked grin. “If you liked that, wait’ll you feel my cock in your ass – it’s even better.”
“I thought you said you couldn’t ‘pop my cherry’ without lube,” I said with a frown. “You won’t find lube in this town, or this county, for that matter.”
“Don’t worry, I always bring lube when I travel. It’s in my suitcase, back in my motel room.”
I started to smile, but something occurred to me. “Jimmy and his friends could be waiting for you.”
“Then we’ll just have to wait until we’re sure they’ve given up. And I know just how to kill the time.”
I gasp, a startled laugh escaping me as he engulfs my half-hard cock in his hot, wet mouth. I could definitely think of worse ways to spend an evening.