Chameleon 7
Chameleon
By Mickey S
If you are under age, or live in an area where reading stories that include sex between males is illegal, or if you're not into this type of story, please leave. This is a fictional story and all characters and events are a figment of the author's imagination. My thanks to Tim and Drew for all of their help. The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at NJMcMick@yahoo.com.
Chapter 7
Over the next week Dad and I settled into an armed truce type of existence. It was somewhat like the way things had been when I was in high school, but with an edge of hostility. We didn't talk a lot and when we did it was about the farm and how Dad could help get things done. He refused to give in to his disability and insisted on helping out with the animals. I put a chair just outside the gate to the chicken yard so he could walk from the house, sit and rest, then feed the chickens and collect the eggs, sit and rest, then walk back to the house. That was the easy part. The cows were harder work. First, it was a longer walk to the barn so he had to rest up quite a while when he got there. Then, although he could sit while milking it was more physical exertion, so he had to take it easy. We found that he could milk two cows while I took care of the other four. He was frustrated that he kept getting tired out but he could at least feel he was doing his share.
Declan came to check out Dad on Wednesday and Friday. I made sure my schedule of chores allowed me to be at the house for his visits. Repeated exposure to him made it easier for me to keep from drooling, as Dad had put it, but I still enjoyed the view. He was so pleasant, natural and friendly that I began to relax around him. I couldn't imagine why I'd been so intimidated by him in high school. Maybe it was because his good looks made me weak in the knees and I was afraid people would notice. Or maybe it was because he was so confident, so comfortable in his own skin and I was so uncomfortable in mine. Probably it was a little of each.
Friday afternoon the cable company sent two men to hook up the house. When I'd left home cable TV wasn't available on our road because the population density was too low to make it profitable. But with the small subdivisions at either end of the road there were now enough houses to make it worth their while. The installers not only wired the living room and all four bedrooms for cable but installed a Wi-Fi router so we'd have wireless internet access anywhere in the house.
I was finally able to check my email. Livy had sent me a file with all of the pictures she'd taken at the farm. She'd cc'd Karen at the agency so I went to the web site to see which if any of them they'd used. While they'd shown a preference for the shirtless, jeans shots they had posted two of the nude shots as well - one taken from the rear feeding the chickens and looking back over my left shoulder and another from the side sitting on the low stool, milking a cow.
My nephew was due to arrive on Monday so I called Karen letting her know I'd be available for work again starting Wednesday. I figured I'd give him a day to get familiar with the house and farm. I again asked Karen if she could find me some dates in North Jersey and also mentioned that middle of the day dates would work into my schedule well. The less time I had to spend commuting the better, and it would be easier to explain my job to Dad, Teddy and whoever if I wasn't working evenings all the time. I had to stick with the public relations/event planner idea. I'd told that to too many people to change it. But now that I was home for good, or at least for a while, I'd be faced with more questions about the specifics of my job.
Sunday evening Dad and I sat on the front porch having a drink - Dad, a Jack Daniels on the rocks, me, a snifter of Remy. The doctor hadn't said anything about alcohol when going over Dad's diet but I figured a nightcap couldn't hurt. Also, Dad hadn't given me as much trouble over his dietary restrictions as I'd thought he would so I didn't want to limit him any way I didn't have to.
"That trout tonight tasted almost as good as if I'd caught it myself. Where'd you learn to cook like that, Silas?"
"Don't you remember giving me hell for spending so much time hanging around Ma in the kitchen when I was a kid?"
"Sure, you were always underfoot, getting in her way."
"I wasn't in her way. I was watching and learning. And I've taken some cooking courses in the city over the years. I like to cook."
"Just another one of your fleeting fancies."
"No, it's not. I'll be the first to admit my interests come and go, but this is one I've always had. Living alone I don't get much of a chance to cook so I'm enjoying this."
"So you think maybe you'd like to be a chef?"
"No, right now I find cooking to be creative and therapeutic. I think that cooking full-time for an endless string of strangers would ruin it for me."
"Therapeutic?"
"Yeah, sometimes I find I lose myself in it and whatever was bothering me when I started is gone by the time I'm done."
This was the closest we'd had to a real conversation all week and it was nice. No tension, no attitude on either side. He was more mellow than at any time since I'd come back home. I decided that since we seemed to be getting along it might be a good time to bring up a sensitive subject.
"So, have you given any thought as to what you're going to do about the farm?"
"What would you do?"
"Well, Barbara and I have discussed it a little. We know you wouldn't even consider selling and I wouldn't like that either. But even though you've been able to do more this week than I thought you would you still won't be able to handle the animals yourself. And there's no way you could even begin to take care of the crops. So we thought the best option would be to sell the cows and rent out the fields. Then you could use the money from that to hire a live-in housekeeper, someone who would cook for you and keep an eye on you."
"What about you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you could take care of the animals, work the fields, cook for me, just like you're doing now. No need to have strangers all over the place. Of course, I'd pay you somthing."
"Dad, you know that wouldn't work. First of all, my job is in the city, my whole life is there. I'd have to give all that up if I came back here permanently. And if you didn't have income from renting the land I don't see how you could pay me."
"Don't worry about money. I'm not destitute. And you haven't mentioned your job or your so-called life in the city once in the past week so I wonder how important they are to you."
"I just assumed you wouldn't be interested in that. Besides, we'd probably kill each other before too long if I stayed here."
"You may be right about that." He sipped his drink and we were quiet for a minute. "But when I asked before what you would do I didn't mean what you thought I should do. I meant what would you do if the farm were yours?"
That was an interesting question, one that had occurred to me a lot in the two weeks I'd been home. Every time I saw another area that was getting overgrown, or had been neglected, I thought about how I'd fix it up. The buildings all needed painting. Too much land was unused. I'd probably add a few cows. The hen house could hold three times as many chickens as we had and the eggs could be sold at a farmer's market. With more animals I'd plant more corn and alfalfa for feed. And maybe some sweet corn to sell as well. And I'd greatly expand the vegetable garden. There was a booming market for organic foods and everything we'd always done was organic. Dad had a firm rule against using chemicals, or poison, as he called them.
Dad let me ramble on and on without interruption. He nodded now and then though I wasn't sure if he was agreeing with me or dozing off. By the time I'd wound down it was nearly dark.
"You've got some good ideas, son. Some I've had myself, some interesting new ones."
"It's hard not to get ideas when I think about the farm. It's ingrained in me."
"Of course. You're a Willson, in spite of your city life. Well, I'd best get to bed. Five o'clock comes earlier for me now than it used to."
We got up and went into the house. He headed for his room and I went into the kitchen where I washed his glass and added another shot to mine. Then I went back out to the porch and lost myself in thoughts of the farm.
Teddy's flight was due in at four in the afternoon, not very convenient for either traffic or the farm schedule. Aunt Mary came to the house to stay with Dad at two-thirty. The plans were that she would fix dinner there for all of us. Uncle Frank would take care of his cows and then come help Dad with ours if I wasn't back in time.
It was a few minutes to four when I parked in the garage across from Terminal C. The arrivals monitor told me the fight was landing and that baggage would be on carousel 2. I made a quick pit stop in the men's room and then headed to the baggage carousel. There was a crowd three deep surrounding it so it took me a while to walk all the way around looking for Teddy. He didn't appear to be there yet. I was just about to circle again to double-check when I heard my name called.
"Uncle Silas!"
I turned and Teddy was approaching from the direction of the escalators. He looked pretty much the way I remembered him but a couple of inches taller and twenty or so pounds heavier. He looked a lot like his father had when he was dating Barbara in high school. It wasn't a look that did anything for me, then or now.
"Teddy, I was afraid I'd have trouble finding you in this crowd. It must have been a full flight." Actually the board said the luggage from three other flights was also on this carousel but I was already struggling to make small talk.
"I guess. It was okay."
I held out my hand to shake and he hesitated before he took it.
"You're a fag, right?"
What a family! I was glad I'd gone with a handshake rather than a hug.
"The word is gay, Teddy. And don't worry, it's not contagious. I think we'll get along better if we show each other some respect."
"Whatever." He shrugged. "As long as you keep your hands to yourself I don't care what you do."
"You don't have to worry about that. You're not at all my type."
He seemed a bit put off by that and walked over to the conveyor belt to look for his luggage. I decided to leave that up to him. After a few minutes he hauled a large bag off the carousel and worked his way back through the crowd to me. Apparently that bag and his knapsack were everything. I tried to make conversation as we walked to the parking garage.
"I had wireless internet service installed in the house the other day. The guy said if you need any help getting your computer to work with it he could come back."
Teddy sneered. "We've got wireless at home and I'm the one who hooked it up. It's only old farts like you that need the geek squad to do simple things like that for them."
I'd been hoping to use the hour in the truck on the way to the farm to renew my acquaintance with Teddy, for us to get to know one another a little better. The way we were starting out I was glad when he put his ear buds in and turned up his iPod before we'd even left the airport. He put his head back, closed his eyes and didn't say a word the whole trip home. It looked like it was going to be an even longer and tenser summer than I'd expected.
Traffic was horrendous the whole way back. It had taken me an hour and twenty minutes to get to the airport but it took well over two hours getting back. It was six-thirty when I pulled into the driveway. Dad and Uncle Frank were just leaving the barn. I was pleased to note that Teddy's meeting with Dad and Uncle Frank wasn't any warmer than with me. Maybe it was just his way. That didn't mean it would be any better a summer, but at least I might not be stuck with a rabid homophobe.
Teddy was pretty silent over a delicious dinner of roast chicken, mashed potatoes, peas and carrots. He didn't seem to like Aunt Mary any more than the rest of us but he had no objections to her cooking. He filled his plate three times. I had a feeling his appetite was going to cost me more than his minimum wage salary. He was pretty focused on the food until Dad and Uncle Frank started discussing possible chores for him, among them painting the shed and hen house and clearing some brush that was encroaching on the orchard.
"Whoa, what are you guys talking about? I thought my job was supposed to be baby-sitting. That's what I agreed to when I said I'd come out here."
"I'm no baby and it's best you learned that right from the start. I'm your granddad and the boss around here and you'll do as I say. The doctor doesn't want me to be alone because of my goddamn heart so when Silas has to leave for work you have to be here. But that's only gonna be a couple of times a week from what he says, so you'll have plenty of time on your hands. There's lots of work I've had to let slide lately. Silas has been busting his butt getting the place back into shape and I expect no less from you."
That was the longest Dad had talked in one stretch since he'd been home and it winded him a little. He had to take a few deep breaths to catch his breath but it was clear he'd made an impression on Teddy. I didn't know what shape Dad had been in the last time Barbara's family had visited but it was clear Teddy had expected a bedridden invalid. While Dad had slowed down he was still a cantankerous, demanding man.
The next morning I gave Teddy a tour of the farm. He claimed he already knew his way around but he'd been ten the last time he was there. How much could he have taken in and remembered.? Also, I wanted to point out all of the possible chores that could be done. Since he wasn't enthusiastic about doing anything at all I thought I'd give him his choice. Any help he gave would be better than none. And if he was the one choosing maybe he'd complain less.
After lunch Dad went into his room for a nap as he'd been doing every day since he came home and I asked Teddy if he had any preferences for chores.
"Sorry, I can't do anything today. I've got plans."
"How could you possibly have plans? You haven't been here since you were ten and you don't know anyone east of the Mississippi."
"Sure I do. As soon as Mom told me about coming here I started a 'Stuck in Sussex' group on Facebook. It's got fourteen members already and two of them are picking me up in a few minutes to show me the town."
"You can't just run off with anyone you meet on the Internet. That's dangerous." Even I didn't go out on dates until they'd been thoroughly checked out by Ed.
"Chill, Uncle Silas. They're kids, not mass murderers. Besides, you'll meet them when they get here."
A few minutes later a car pulled into the driveway and sure enough there were two teens in it, one boy and one girl. They introduced themselves as Tom and Jessie. I talked to them for a few minutes and came away liking them a lot more than I liked Teddy so I let him go. Not that I could have stopped him. If anything he'd be a bad influence on them. I'd have to start him on his chores the next morning.
For the next couple of days a grumbling Teddy helped me for a couple of hours in the morning but took off with Tom and Jessie right after lunch. He usually came back for just long enough to eat supper and then was gone again until close to midnight. By the end of the week it was clear we had to lay down some ground rules. I'd talked to Barbara on Friday to find out what she had told him he'd be doing at the farm and also to find out what her rules for him at home were. She confirmed that the only required chore she'd given him was watching Dad while I was away. His curfew at home was midnight so at least he was policing himself in that regard. I didn't mention his new friends but apparently he'd told her about them. It turned out Babs had gone to high school with Jessie's mother and had called her the day before so as far as she was concerned Teddy's new friends were okay.
I still wanted to talk to Teddy about farm chores so I brought it up over supper on Friday.
"I talked to your mother yesterday."
"Rattin' on me? I suppose you're gonna file a weekly report on my activities, especially those you don't approve of."
"No, not at all. I just had a few questions for her. You'd already told her about your friends and she's okay with them so as long as you're in by twelve so I don't care what you do on your time.'
"Real generous of you," he mumbled.
"And she said the only job she gave you was keeping an eye on Dad when I'm away, so that's all you have to do around here if you don't like the chores."
Teddy grinned but Dad sat up.
"There's no way he's living here as part of this family if he's not going to help out around the place."
"Take it easy, Dad." I turned back to Teddy. "Now, the deal is that you get paid $8.00 an hour. You worked six hours this week so that's $48.00. Most weeks I'll probably go into the city to work two times, so that'll be 12-14 hours. Throw in a couple of hours for shopping and errands around town and you'll be watching Dad maybe 16 hours a week. That comes to $128.00."
"No fuckin' way! I gave up a forty-hour-a-week job to come here. That's what I've gotta get paid for."
"Of course, if you want to work forty hours there's plenty to be done around here. It's your choice. In fact, if you want to work longer hours and make even more money that's okay, too. It's entirely up to you."
"You can't make me do this! That's slave labor. I'm gonna call Mom."
Teddy got up and stormed out of the room. I looked at Dad and he smiled at me.
"You handled that real well, son."
I wasn't surprised when Babs called me the next day.
"You're not really going to make Teddy do farm labor are you?"
"I'm not going to make him do anything. I know this is his summer vacation but I'm not going to pay him to do nothing."
"How about if you pay him for the time he watches Dad and I pay him the balance?"
"He's your son and you can do anything you like, but I think you're spoiling him. And our agreement was that we'd split the cost of him watching Dad, so you have to pay half of that in addition to whatever you want to pay him to do nothing."
"Then it's costing you next to nothing and you're the one benefiting. That's not fair."
"It's what we agreed to, sis. And I'm perfectly willing to come up with pay for twenty hours if he works forty."
"You're as bad as the old man. Let me talk to Teddy and see what he thinks."
In the end Teddy agreed to work a total of thirty hours, including his baby-sitting time. He wasn't happy about it but he could still sleep late and get his time done by lunch.
Monday morning when I called Karen she had a date lined up for me.
"Your wish is my command, Silas. I've found you a daytime date in New Jersey. How's that?"
"Sounds good but it depends on what the date is."
"A doctor in Wayne wants to play doctor with you."
"What does that mean?"
"Exactly what it sounds like. You know it's totally unethical for a doctor to fool around with his patients and this one assures us he never has. But he's always had a fantasy about being able to do just that. So you'll go into his office as if you were a patient when the rest of the staff isn't there and he'll have his way with you."
"And what might his way be? We're not talking about body modification are we?"
"Sometimes I wonder how someone in this profession could be so vanilla. No, we're not talking about anything really kinky. Just an in-depth, erotic physical examination. It's a win-win for you. You get paid and you get your annual physical for free. How bad could it be? How's Wednesday at two?"
"It's a good thing I didn't object."
"His office closes at one on Wednesdays so by two the staff is gone."
"I haven't worked in over a week so I might as well get it over with."
"That's the spirit!"
Wednesday morning Teddy and I went to work scraping the shed getting it ready for a new coat of paint. He wasn't enthusiastic but as I was doing the same work he couldn't complain much. We were hard at work when Declan pulled in. I called him over to introduce him to Teddy.
"Another fruitcake," Teddy said as Declan walked to the house.
"What are you talking about? Declan's straight and he's a great guy."
"Get real. He's a guy, he's a nurse. Fruitcake."
"You've got to stop thinking in terms of stereotypes, Teddy. I'm pretty sure Declan's straight."
"Whatever."
After lunch Teddy went back to work and I went upstairs to shower and get ready for my doctor's appointment. I was actually able to tell them the truth, or close to it, that I was going to the doctor for a physical. When I left Dad was up from his nap, sitting on the back porch where he could keep an eye on Teddy and Teddy could keep an eye on him. I was pretty sure Dad was well enough to be left alone for brief periods but until the doctor okayed it I didn't want him on his own.
The address I'd been given was a large medical office building on Hamburg Turnpike. The directory in the lobby told me the office I was looking for was on the third floor so I took the elevator up. The door was locked but when I rapped on it a tall, slim blond man in a white coat came to let me in.
"Hi, I'm Dr. Davenport. You're Silas Willson?"
I nodded and shook his hand. The one thing about this date that made me more nervous than anything else was that I was using my real name for the first time. Of course, the client was, too, and he probably had a lot more to lose if anyone found out what he was doing. But this was more than a date, it was a real physical, Dr. Davenport was not going to charge for his exam but he was going to send me to a lab with an order for blood work. In order for my insurance to pay the lab they had to have the real information on me. I'd suggested to Karen that we skip the blood work but she said that since I was due for a physical anyway (the service insisted that all escorts be checked out regularly) we were actually saving the insurance company money by using a doctor who wouldn't charge for his services.
The doctor had me fill out all of the usual forms and as I finished them he assembled them into a file. He then led me down a hall to an examination room.
"Please remove all of your clothes and have a seat. I'm sorry that we're all out of paper gowns but I've turned down the air conditioning so you shouldn't be cold. I'll be right back."
He left the room and I undressed. The last time I'd had a physical I'd been allowed to keep my boxers on under the robe but this was a different kind of exam. Once I was naked I looked around. I never knew whether they wanted me to sit in the chair or on the examining table. I chose the table and the paper cover crackled under my butt. I was sitting only a few seconds when the doctor came back in. His eyes registered approval.
"No hair, I see. That's good, it allows me to see all of your skin."
He took my pulse and blood pressure then began to check me out from the top down. He looked into my eyes, ears, stuck a tongue depressor down my throat as I said 'Ahhh' and felt the lymph glands in my neck. He then worked his way down my body, listening to my heart and lungs, probing my abdomen, testing my reflexes.
Finally we got to the good part, the examination of my private parts, which is where I assumed this exam would become a little bit different. He did the usual 'turn your head and cough' to check me for hernias and then gently rolled my balls in his hand to check for suspicious lumps or bumps. The gentle rolling quickly became firm squeezing which didn't stop until I gasped and doubled over in pain. He let go and smiled.
"Did that hurt?"
"Yes, very much."
"Good, it was meant to. Nothing wrong there. Now please turn around and bend over the table so I can check your prostate. You may find this a bit uncomfortable."
Yeah, right, like I'd never had anything as big as a finger up my butt before.
He lubed up a finger and not very gently stuck it up my ass. I could feel him rubbing my prostate with his fingertip.
"Ah, there it is. Normal size and texture. How does this feel?"
"Okay, I guess." I didn't know whether he was referring to his finger stretching my sphincter or the rubbing of my prostate. To tell the truth they both felt pretty good.
"Just okay, huh? How about this?"
He removed his finger and then reinserted what felt like two fingers together, then did it again with three.
"I'll bet that feels better, doesn't it?"
"Yes, it does."
"We'll have to follow up on that. Sit up on the end of the table."
I did as he instructed and he took two stirrups from underneath and stuck them into the end of the table. He had to shift me around a bit until he could get my feet up into them and that left my butt right on the edge with my asshole exposed. He took a nasty looking metal instrument from a drawer and pulled a chair up between the stirrups.
"This is a speculum. It's used for opening orifices gradually."
"I really don't think I need that. I haven't experienced any problems down there."
The doctor looked disappointed but put the instrument away.
"Maybe next time."
He wasn't done with my ass though. He used his fingers to play with my hole some more and then opened a case on the counter and took out a medium sized butt plug, not at all medical looking, and inserted it in my loosened hole. He pressed something and it started to vibrate. His manual stroking of my prostate had caused my dick to plump up a bit and the vibration added to it.
"We'll see how you react to a little of that. In the meantime, I want to check your gag reflex."
He unzipped his fly as he walked around the table. He lowered a flap at the head of the table so my head was no longer supported and hung back over the edge. Upside down I could see that he'd pulled his erection out of his pants. Like him, it was long and slender. He tipped my head back, opened my mouth and inserted his rod. He pushed in until he reached the beginning of my throat, pulled out an inch or so, and then pushed in a little harder, breaking through into my throat. I'd been able to deep throat thicker cocks than his so it didn't take much of an effort to relax on my part, especially with my head tipped back that way. He pushed in until his balls were resting on my nose and then lightly ran his fingertips over the front of my neck, feeling how he was stretching me.
He then began to slowly pump in and out of me, pulling back until just the head of his dick was in my mouth and then thrusting back in.
He leaned over me, picked up a tube of KY from the table and squirted some on my now very stiff and dripping dick. He leaned on the table with his left hand for stability and smeared the lube all over my shaft with his right hand. He stroked me in time with his thrusts into my throat and in no time I was ready to come. I held back as it was the client's right to come first. I tightened my throat muscles each time he pulled out, milking his dick. He groaned and thrust all the way in and stopped, his dick throbbing as it shot his load deep into me. He pulled out just as his orgasm was ending so I was able to taste the last few drops.
Without a word he went around to my side and began stroking me in earnest. This time when I felt the pressure building I let loose. Just as I began to shoot he placed a specimen cup at the head of my dick and captured every drop of my load. I had an idea that he might down it as one would a shot of booze but he just put a lid on it and set it on the counter.
"We might as well do a semen analysis while we've got the specimen."
He cleaned both our dicks and that was the end of the exam. On the way out he gave me an order for lab tests.
"While you seem to be in very good health I think we should definitely follow up on this exam. You should come back again in a few months. I'd like to do a more in depth exam of your anus and rectum, and I didn't really have a chance to do much with your penis this time either."
"Well, you know how to get in touch with me when you think I should come back."
I was relieved that the whole experience had been pretty tame but on the way home decided I would prefer not to see Dr. Davenport again. In addition to the speculum that he had wanted to use, I saw a few more instruments in the case he had open on the counter. In addition to a couple of large dildos and a butt plug much larger than the one he had used in me he had several metal rods of various sizes which I recognized from online porn as sounds. I wasn't interested in having any of those instruments inserted into any of my orifices. After all of my years as an escort very little shocked me but I was still a pretty vanilla guy.
TBC