This work is a product of the author's imagination. Places, events and people are either fictitious or used fictitiously and any resemblance to real events, places, or people, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
The author retains full copyright to the material, and sincerely hopes you like it!
If you have something to say about it that isn't flaming me then email me at: Caleb graemefj@iinet.net.au
IT'S JACK I FEEL SORRY FOR
Yeah... well... It's Jack I really feel sorry for. I'm sick to my guts of everyone going around saying, "Poor Tony.... It's a real shame." Poor Tony! Ha! Let me tell you, I've known Mr Tony fuckin' Patrick from way back... way, way back. His father worked for my father, for Crissake. "Good morning, Mr Jeremy," he used to say to me. Yeah, he called me Mr Jeremy - Tony's father - old man Patrick: my father's driver. So you could say that Tony Patrick and I grew up together. He used to mow our lawns for a bit of pocket money - scrimp and save. That was him all over. "Dad," I'd say to my father, "you don't have to pay Tony so much. His father's our servant. He should be doing it for free. Be grateful he's got the job." But no, my father said a fair day's work should get a fair day's pay. So Tony got money for work that he should have been pleased to do for us for free. Typical!
But like I said, it's Jack I feel sorry for. How could a man like Jack enjoy the company of a wuss like Tony Patrick? He was a wuss even when we were at school together - always with his nose in a book with those big goggles he wore, like an owl. And he didn't play real sports like I did - football and ice hockey. No, it was high diving for him... High diving! Who cares about that? And have you ever heard him speak? He had a stutter you could drive a truck through. I really tried to help him with that. Got him to fill his mouth with pebbles and practise talking, but he whined to his father who told my father who made me stop helping him.
Now, I know for a fact that the only reason he went to that crappy college was because he won that scholarship and was too rat-shit mean to spend some of the fortune he'd saved to go to a decent college like the one I went to. I asked him to change to my college as my friend. "C'mon, T," I said, "why do you want to go to Outer Hicksville U instead of an Ivy League college?" He just said, "I can't afford it." Like his old man wasn't ripping off mine for years. He had money. Just too fuckin' mean.
I made the biggest mistake of my life when I introduced Jack to Tony. I admit it... the biggest mistake of my life. You may not know this but Jack was a football jock at my college.... All the coeds would go moist when Jack was around.... And a lot of the guys too, let me tell you. Hell, even I fooled round with Jack. What a fuck machine! Jack would fuck anything that moved - man, woman or fluffy sheep. I invited Jack home to my place on the Spring break. We had a fuckin' hot time. Jack was banging my butt every chance we got.
Course Tony fuckin' Patrick was home too, in his father's little shack on our property. My old man let them stay there for free. Jack was having trouble with his grades, so I got the brilliant idea that Tony could coach Jack. I expected him to do it for free - I mean, he was our servant - but Jack insisted on paying him. That's what made him change his mind. He was always on the lookout for ways to make money during the break. Jeez, what a tightwad!
Even so, Tony didn't seem that eager to help. Just like him. Standoffish. But after I made a bit of a fuss, he said he would, so Jack would take his books down to Tony's house every afternoon at the end of the day and do a couple of hours before dinner. Then we'd have the night to go to parties or maybe fuck. Sometimes both. Yeah! Jack always wanted Tony to come, but Tony stuck up his nose at this - not good enough for him!
One night Jack hadn't returned and I wondered what had happened to him. I suddenly thought that he and Tony were fucking. Shit I thought. So I crept down to the house. There were no lights on. So much for study, I thought. But then I heard someone talking. I got closer and I saw them both on the porch. Jack was lying down on the porch swing talking - steady like. Tony was seated a fair way from him in one of those cane porch chairs, just listening to him. The lights of an occasional passing car flashed on his glasses. Fuck! Jack must have been bored out of his brain. I called to him and reminded him of a party we were going to, and he stood up and said, "Sorry. The time just seemed to slip away." Then he turned to Tony and said, "Thanks, I really enjoyed it." Tony just said "'Bye," and went inside.
I said to Jack as we went up to the big house, "You know, you're real polite to that tool. He doesn't appreciate it. What the fuck were you talking about, anyway?"
Jack said, "Nothing much. I like talking to him."
I said, "Obvious you did all the talking. It takes him an hour to get a sentence out." And I laughed. Jack laughed too - a bit. He said, "He's helped me a lot. I think I'll probably pass."
"Good for you," I said, and we went to the party.
I gotta hand it to that four-eyed shit. Jack passed with flying colours.
Next semester I hardly saw Jack at all. He was always too busy to come to parties with me. Occasionally I would bump into him at a party, but he was always leaving to study.
I got bored with college. Dropped out and went to the west Coast where I had a great time. Dad wrote to me and told me that Tony had taken up some sort of scholarship with the navy. I laughed. His ass will never recover from that and the only skill he'd learn is how to suck cock. I lost touch with Jack. In L.A., I went into business with this guy making porn vids and we raked it in. After about five years we sold the business and I was rolling in it. I decided to go back east so I drove there, taking my time and fucking my way across the good ol' US of A.
When I got home, dad read the riot act to me and insisted that I settle down in a real job. He had some very old-fashioned ideas about working from the bottom up but I thought that was stupid since he owned the business and I was the boss's son. He'd set up a new construction company and I was to meet the manager. I agreed and you could have knocked me over with a feather when the works manager turned out to be Jack. He was real pleased to see me and he shook my hand violently with a large paw. He seemed to have grown and filled out. From my porn days, I could judge his body like an expert and he looked GOOD. He had muscles on muscles and a huge bulge between his legs. While he showed me round the place, we talked of old times and it ended up with him inviting me home for dinner.
I dunno what I expected - maybe pizzas or something. Boy, was I surprised. Jack lived in a great apartment overlooking the bay, but what surprised me most, what made my jaw drop to the floor, was that Jack was living with fuckin' Tony Patrick. Yeah, that's right. Good ol' Jack was a windjammer and was pluggin' Patrick's butt.
Mind you, now that I think back, wouldn't have minded having a piece of that butt myself. I mean Tony looked good, and I mean good. The navy must have done things to him. He was real lean and didn't wear those big jam jars any more - just small slick wire framed glasses, and when he opened his mouth to speak, his stutter was gone. He smiled when he saw me and shook my hand. Hell. Who did he think he was, shaking my hand like that? The bastard seemed to have forgotten that his old man worked for mine. So I said, "hey, T-t-t-tony, my man. Lookin' good." He just smiled and said, "It's good to see you, Jerry." and we all sat down to dinner.
I could tell that the conversation was going to be real dull. I mean, what could those two talk about, so I started telling them about my time as the king of porn in LA. Jack was real interested. He laughed a lot and I could tell he was getting hard. Shit, his life must've been dull. Fuckin' Patrick didn't laugh much, just smiled and every now and then tried to change the subject to sports or something. Sports! Him? Anyway, Jack said Tony was training hard and the Olympic trials were coming up. I laughed. What a joke. "Olympic trials?" I said, "What in? Ballroom dancing?" Jack laughed but Patrick just smiled. I noticed he didn't try to talk about sports again.
When we finished eating, Tony said he had to turn in. Training or something. Yeah, right. I didn't care. Jack and I cracked a bottle of Southern Comfort and settled back to shoot the breeze. I told him more about my time in LA - you know, the real interesting stuff - and as the night wore on Jack was getting harder and harder. He kept trying to adjust his cock and balls when he thought I wasn't looking. Anyway, he broke the party up, saying we had to work tomorrow. As I left, I grabbed his boner and said, "Have one for me." Jack looked nervous and said, "Not tonight. Training tomorrow." Yeah. It's Jack I feel sorry for. The little shit was obviously holding out on him.
Much as I like Jack, I gotta say he was a shit boss - always on my back. "Jack," I'd say, "Chill out." But he continued like that, always carping and criticizing. I guess my old man, his boss, was on his back. Anyway, after a couple of weeks, I quit. I didn't need the money or the hassle, and after I quit, I got on much better with Jack.
I surprised him one Friday evening by calling round to his work place to get him to come out with me - you know - visit a few bars or something. Jack seemed real eager and straightaway phoned Tony on his cell. There was some hushed urgent talk and he hung up and said, "Right. I'll just grab my coat and we'll go." As we jumped into the car, I said, "Why did you ask T-t-tony for permission? You're your own man, aren't you?"
He said, "I didn't. I wanted him to come, but he couldn't."
"Or wouldn't," I said.
He said, "No. He's got to train. He's started night training."
"Still got to master the cha-cha, has he?" and I laughed.
He gave me a funny look. "Trials in a month," he said, but I lost interest in what he was saying and I began telling him about what I had in store for him. His bulge really looked gigantic as we drove down the highway, and I knew I wanted to renew my acquaintance with that meaty schlong.
We had a good time. Jack got real drunk and let me play with his cock on the way home. I dropped him off at his apartment and he rolled out of the car and practically crawled up the front steps. He was shit-faced. It was real funny.
The next time I saw him was the last time I saw him.
I came home one afternoon from a great couple of days in the country, and found out that dad was giving a party. Great, I thought. I like parties, even my old man's parties which are a bit stuffy. At least there'd be plenty of free booze. While I showered and dressed, all the guests were arriving, and I saw from my bedroom window, a snappy little sports car roar up the drive. Looked like an Alpha or something. Shit, and I saw Jack and Tony fuckin' Patrick step out. What were they doing here?
By the time I got downstairs, the party was in full swing. There were some hot looking people there, so different from my old man's usual crowd. I saw Jack standing by himself nursing a drink. I went up to him, stood real close, and fingered his bulge while I talked to him. He sidled away, looking a bit embarrassed. "Who are all these guys?" I said. He looked at me real funny. "Your father's giving a party to all the athletes going for the Olympic trials next week."
"No shit?"
"All these. Every sport you can think of." I looked around carefully noticing all the great bodies - chicks and guys. It was a bit of a shock when I saw Tony Patrick in the middle of a group. They were all trying to talk to him and he was grinning like a maniac, and they were all laughing at his jokes. I glanced at Jack. He was looking at Patrick with a funny expression on his face, kind of sad.
"Looks like he's forgotten you, Jack m'boy," I said.
He looked downright miserable. "I guess...I guess ...it was only to be expected."
I grabbed his balls again. "Hey, big guy. What's up? Don't sweat it. With this equipment you'll get any chick you want...... or guy " I added quickly.
He looked at me hard. "There's only one I want," and he took a deep gulp of his scotch. Fuck! I Nearly creamed my jeans at that. I gave him a meaningful grin and started to unzip his fly. He freaked out.
"Are you crazy?" he said. "What are you doing?" And he pulled away from me and escaped into the crowd. I knew I could reel him in any time I wanted him, so I went and got a drink. I saw my father staring at me so I gave him a cheery wave. He beckoned me over.
"Yo, dad," I said. He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me aside.
"I saw you with the Landon boy. Behave yourself."
"Hey, dad," I said, "Jack looked like he needed a bit of company, that's all."
Dad gave me a suspicious look. "As long as that is all. Now. Leave him alone and let him enjoy his Tony's triumph."
I looked at him blankly. "What triumph?"
Another funny look, this time from dad. "What sort of rock have you been living under? Tony Patrick is a shoo-in for a diving gold medal."
That came as a real shock for me. Fuckin' Tony Patrick - an Olympic gold medallist. No way! I looked real hard at the crowd around him. Jack was now standing beside him and they were holding hands. I felt anger and contempt. Fuckin' fags! I looked at dad.
He was looking at the two of them. "Henry Patrick is a lucky man," he said, "He has a son to be proud of."
"Dad, he's a fag! Jack Landon is fuckin' the shit out of him."
Dad just looked at me - like I was a piece of shit. Then he turned away and went to join the party.
The party went on for hours. Everyone got a bit wild. I prowled round the edges getting madder and madder. No one seemed to know who I was - in my own house. Some of the chicks I danced with got a bit excited when I told them I'd grown up with Patrick, which only made me madder. Even Jack looked like he was having a good time though I could see he was getting drunk. He never could hold his liquor. Come midnight, and Jack was propped up against a wall. The lights were low so I made my move.
I went up to him. "Hey Jack," I whispered, "I got some good shit upstairs if you're interested..."
He looked at me, a bit like an owl. "Upstairs....?"
"Yeah. Come on." I led the way across the room and we started up the stairs. Jack stumbled a bit and said loudly, "The fucking step moved..." and he laughed. I laughed too and looked back to the party. I could see Tony watching us. He wasn't laughing. Yeah, I thought, that's wiped that smug smile off your face. I smiled at him and took Jack's hand and dragged him up the stairs.
When we got to my bedroom, Jack stood swaying slightly and swigging on the bottle of scotch he'd brought with him. I got out my stash and rolled one, lit up and passed it to Jack. He started puffing away on it, bottle in the other hand so I got busy. I unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants and his tighties. His great big prong sprang free. What a sight! He fell back on the bed with his legs apart and his feet still on the floor. I dropped between his monster thighs and started to chow down on his schlong. He lay there, dragging on the grass. Then he started giggling, real drunk. I stood up and shed all my clothes. I was going to have that giant dick up my asshole and Jack had no choice in the matter. I slobbered on his knob again and tugged at his big furry balls. Then he struggled to his feet, threw away the bottle, and ripped off the rest of his clothes. With the joint still in his mouth, he picked me up and threw me on the bed face down, with my ass hanging over the edge. He stepped behind me and rammed that monster right in me - to the hilt. And then, in - out, in - out, he fucked me like a maniac, all the time puffing on the joint. I loved it. He kept fucking me not stopping. I blew after about thirty seconds but he just kept going - a real fuck machine.
He didn't hear the door open but I did. I turned my head and there was Tony Patrick looking like a stunned mullet. I hooted with laughter. He said, "J-j-j-jack!" but quiet like. Yes. His stutter was back. Jack froze in his tracks, and pulled his dick out with a loud slurp and backed away from me. I waved my backside at Patrick. "C'mon, Mr Champion Patrick - join the party." Tony turned deathly white and left the room and slammed the door.
I was rolling on the bed with laughter. Jack ran to the door, his big schlong dribbling and flapping about. I laughed as hard as I could. Jack fumbled with the door handle and couldn't open the door. He slapped on the door yelling "Tony, tony!" Finally he got the door open and ran out.
"Hey Jack," I yelled, "you forgot something." Jack came hurtling back, cock ahoy, and started scrabbling around for his clothes, and hopped around on one foot after the other trying to get dressed. Then he was off. I could hardly move from laughter.
I got up from the bed, and looked out the window, just in time to see Tony roar down the drive in the sports car with Jack running on foot behind him. I was also in time to see the sports car smash into the stone gate post and burst into flames
Everyone says "Poor Tony ...His diving career is over." Yeah, like it was much of a career to start with. He was in a coma for two days, with Jack at his side for every second. Rather say "Poor Jack..."
My dad had a long talk to Jack, with Jack crying and snuffling all the time. When Patrick left hospital, Jack was with him and they went away to live ... God knows where. My dad had paid all the cost of their relocation. I never did find out where they went. Dad was a real shit about the whole thing. I told him don't blame me because a chauffeur's son never learned to drive. Dad got into a real snit and gave me the old "Never darken my door again" speech and I haven't spoken to him for five years.
I think about Jack a lot. I reckon we could have been real friends if it hadn't been for fuckin' Tony Patrick. Jack is now tied to a cripple. It's Jack I feel sorry for.