No Greater Love
By
Justin Balancier
I was looking over the paint colors at the local hardware store and had narrowed it down to about three different shades of blue.
"What cha painting?" A stranger's voice with an unusual accent, said to me.
Never straying from the paint samples nor looking up, I replied, "A spare room." "Well actually a guest room which is a horrible color and needs some help". "That's what I'm painting"
"Baby blue, I think that is nice" the stranger said to me.
He had an interesting way of talking. His voice was deep and sexy sounding like a James Bond character actor.
I turned to face him. `Holy crap' – I thought to myself. This dude was fine, yes sir, mighty fine. I tried not to stare but it was difficult. He was really hot looking and I couldn't help myself. I sensed a bit of sarcasm in his voice. His charisma however spoke for itself. I suppose that could be either a good or a bad thing. I wasn't actually bothered by it.
"What's the problem pal? Don't you care for baby blue?"
"The color is okay. "Yeah, I like all shades of blue, but I don't think I'm the baby blue type."
"That is an admirable point." "No, you certainly are not the baby blue type." he said, looking me up and down.
I was bothered by how forward he appeared to be. In fact, I wondered if the baby blue comment was meant to be an insult. I didn't know him, and I didn't give a damn anyway. Still, if first impressions count, I liked what I saw.
I found a blue paint that looked decent to me. I added some brushes and rollers and was all set with my purchase.
The salesman was a chubby short man with course black hair and a beard. He really loved his job. It was easy to tell because he knew every answer when it came to paint. He even helped me calculated how much paint I needed to do the job. "It's not a big room", he said. "A gallon should be plenty with a bit left over," Then the salesman shook the paint can for me and it was ready to use.
And what happened to the stranger?
Beats me. I looked around and he had left. He vanished as suddenly as he had appeared.
Humph, I thought "How unlucky can I be over a can of blue paint." It was nothing to be concerned about. Sure he was good looking, BUT – now just forget it
Before I go any further, I should tell you a little something about myself. My name is Michael and I answer to both Michael and Mike. I recently turned thirty and I am blessed with several physical assets of masculine quality. I mention this because I am as self-centered and completely into myself as was the handsome stranger I saw in the hardware store.
I left the store and put the painting supplies in the cab of my truck. Five minutes later, I was out of the parking lot and on my way down Cherry Drive.
Cherry Drive was the main artery running through the suburbs where I lived. Almost all the side streets eventually crossed Cherry Drive which took you directly into the city.
I didn't live that far away, so before going home I stopped for lunch at a fast food restaurant called "Gale's Place." The restaurant was also located on Cherry Drive.
Gale's Place was a small neighborhood restaurant where middle class families and working folks would go to chow out. It was not fancy but the food was good. It was clean, casual, and the employees were all young and friendly.
I was in the mood for a plump juicy burger, fries and a drink. I maintain a healthy diet the majority of the time, but there are moments when eating crazy' can be fun. I found it difficult to understand why a big juicy burger was considered junk food.' Yes, I know. It's the fat and cholesterol that concerns people. So what!!
It was the lunch hour and the restaurant was crowded. Most of the tables were taken, but I found a small vacant table against the wall which seemed to be perfect.
"Mind if I share this table with you?" said a man's voice with a foreign accent. He was holding a tray and touching the back of an empty chair.
"Nope – it's all yours." I answered barely looking up at him.
"Thanks," he replied. "Boy it's crowded in here today."
"I know, today's specials are fish fries and they're really popular." I told him.
So tell me, as he put his tray down on the table. "What shade of paint did you finally settle on?" "Was it the azure or the aqua blue?"
I recognize him immediately which wasn't difficult to do. I replied. -"Baby Blue." "I'm surprised you remembered me buying paint"
"Oh, there isn't much that I miss when it comes to some people. You see, knowing people is my business." "Ahhh, baby blue is a good choice. I knew it, Yeah, a good choice,"
He stuck out his hand and said to me. "I'm Alexsander, spelled with the letter s."
"Michael," I replied, shaking his hand.
"Humm, Alexsander - That is a good name."
The name is Romanian. It is actually Russian but very popular in Romania." he elaborated
"Are you from Romania?"
"My parents are from Bucharest, but I was born in the US."
Alexsander had a firm handshake and from the way he acted, seemed to be very attached to his own ego. He came across as Alpha' in a strong way. Yes indeed – A very strong way. By Alpha' I mean comfortable with his behavior, but assertiveness is not necessarily a bad thing. The way he looked and spoke was awesome for lack of a better description.
I have been around men with charisma before. Being a bit of a jock myself, I felt at ease with him. I believe he sensed my approval. Alexsander was excellent being who he was and there was no way one could doubt it. I wanted to see where the conversation was headed.
We must have lingered about an hour or more over our burgers and we talked and talked about things in general. We didn't really know each other, except for the introduction. However, to on-lookers in the restaurant, we stood out like brothers or family.
"I like your accent," I told Alexsander. It fits your personality and sounds sexy.
"That is weird you like it." He said to me. "I don't think I have an accent. But people tell me that I do. My parents came to America before I was born. I have and older sister and we were both born in Colorado. At home our family spoke only Romanian and we (my sister and I) didn't learn English until we went to school. I think learning English as a second language, left me with a slight Russian accent. It's cool."
Alexsander said he was a mechanic and worked mostly on auto transmissions at a Ford dealership in town. That seemed a little hard to believe because he didn't fit the mechanic mold. But who's to say what fits anything.
He told me that he moved to California from Colorado with a young boyfriend who eventually left him to parade as a Versace model. He accepted a magazine position in Los Angeles.
"Whoa, a Versace model. Humm, he must be quite a looker." I said to him.
"Yes, but he is pure `fluff' and I never could please him."
"How so?"
"He behaved like a wild kid and his friends were severely fruity acting. "You know the `fuck you girlie' type. When he hung with them he was such a fuckin fairy. That is not my idea of a boyfriend.
"Well sometimes, it's a mighty painful business being young. If he doesn't drug out or screw himself to death in Versace thongs, he should be all right." - I commented, wiping my chin and rolling up a soiled napkin.
"Maybe - but painful or not, it's true. The little pervert didn't like much about me. For example, he didn't like my clothes or the way I spoke. But he did slobber my body, after he got my clothes off. The little princess was all over me like a fly on a chunk of watermelon."
"Phew, watermelon huh; I should warn you. I like watermelon."
Alexsander continued - His name is Devin and he made fun of my accent and lots of other stuff that I don't care to talk about. Sexually for me, he was a dud. He was a lousy fuck and skinny. Feminine acting and couldn't suck cock worth a dam in my opinion. I guess I was attracted to him because he was so pretty. What a fucking mistake that was. I had to find out the hard way that he was not what I wanted."
"Hey, enough talk about me big guy." "How about you?" "Do you have a boyfriend that you care to talk about?"
"Well nothing quite that glamorous. I've been living alone ever since my roommate moved out over a month ago. He was not a boyfriend though, only a roommate."
Humph, "Not a boyfriend!!! – c'mon now that is hard to believe."
"I don't know why, I'm not into boyfriends."
"Really? – huh!!" "Hey dude, don't check yourself out, believe me you're hot."
"You won't get an argument from me." I replied, taking a big gulp of my Pepsi and peeking over the top of the paper cup.
I suspected that Alexsander was giving me a line as long as opening night on Broadway. I went along with him and let him play his silly game. It was a standoff that I played very well.
I'm not sure how old he was, but it didn't matter. Probably around thirty where life begins. Or does life really begin at forty? Regardless of the numbers, he was certainly a package.
Alexsander had magnetism that was more outgoing than I would expect from a new acquaintance. Although I shouldn't have been surprised, since he was an aggressive male. Just the same, I liked the assertiveness about him. I figured I could simply separate the bull shit from the reality. And I expected plenty of `bullshit'.
"So Michael, "Could you use a good painter?" "I would really like to help you."
"Are you a painter also?"
"No, but everyone knows how to paint. So if you need help. I am available. It's a volunteer effort dude, and I'm your man."
"Volunteer effort, huh?"
"Yep, you heard right, `it's all volunteer work,"
"Now, why would you help me paint a room?" I asked.
"Wait!! - No-no, let me guess." "You are an attention-seeker looking for something, or maybe a clandestine rapist looking for praise. "You probably are both," I let slip out in a friendly way.
"That is very good Michael – very good. `A rapist'? That's not likely. You are vastly perceptive but also very mistaken about the second part."
"Humph, that is entirely possible. So tell me where I made a mistake. That is, if I even made a mistake?"
"Okay," I will." "Your observation of me is slightly valid but mainly hot air." He held a wet straw between his striking white teeth and bobbed it in front of my face. His eyes were so intense that it felt like he was looking right through me." I am not who you think I am," he said, flashing a smile that would melt ice.
I must have appeared uncomfortable because he leaned in and whispered across the table...
"Are you afraid of me? Maybe you should take a closer look." He said laughing.
"That's nuts, afraid of you? – hardly." I assured him.
"Ahhhh, yeah, a-huh – if you say so," Alexsander mumbled.
I stared deeply into his handsome face. I have never been known to be shy and I am strongly confident in my masculinity. So, I asked him straight out.
"What's the catch? Are you `hitting' on me? You want something from me. Is it sex?"
"Am I hitting on you? - Now what kind of a dumb question is that? - Am I hitting on you...? I don't need shit like that." He barked back.
He rolled his eyes and continued to express himself still bobbing the straw between his teeth.
"Do you think I am working this hard only to run my hand over your chest for a cheap thrill? Is that what you think?" He said almost scolding me and defending his Alpha status. "The truth is Michael, I want to get to know you, even if it takes some baby blue paint to do it."
The real Alexsander was becoming apparent and he was being honest. The stuff I called `bullshit' didn't sound like rubbish any longer. We had dueling personalities for sure, but someone had to pull back a little for us to click. I didn't know if I was the one to do that, but I was willing to try.
"You're serious Alexsander, aren't you?" I asked.
"For sure Michael." "I am trying to do just that. ...get to know you," Alexsander cleared his throat and rested his chin on the back of his folded hands. He winked at me with a soft twinkle in his eye.
"Do you think I am getting any place? He asked. "C'mon dude, I can't do it all myself. Let's have a little help here. "Yah all gotta cooperate."
That struck me silly and I started to laugh. We were having a real guy moment. I giggled to the point of feeling foolish.
"Yah all gotta cooperate"..."you're fuckin funny." - I said to him
Here we were, two grown men giggling like school girls. I didn't care who was looking at us and Alexsander didn't give a damn either. We seemed to be connecting.
"Phew... Are you always this good?" I asked him, trying to compose myself.
Nooo, he answered. "Sometimes I am better"
"I knew it."
"Knew what...?"
"You are using your charisma."
"Damn straight Michael, but that is who I am." "You are rich in charisma yourself, I can see it." "Really, trust me." He said.
It was arousing to hear Alexsander chatter away. He was absolutely good looking and had a remarkable bod from what I could see. I liked everything about him. He was clean cut, had a terrific mouth and a beautiful smile. He had grown a trimmed mustache around his mouth and he looked delicious. His hair and eyes were dark brown almost black. I tried to visualize what he looked like naked. I simply couldn't imagine anyone throwing him away, to strut around in Versace underwear. Well, maybe for a centerfold picture in GQ, I might think about it.
Alexsander was masculine, polished and gentle. It was uncanny how much we were alike. He remained looking at me and our eyes locked for a passing moment.
My dick was rising in my pants under the table and I wanted more. Oh yeah, for sure I wanted more. My leg brushed up against his. I wanted to leave it there, but I pulled back. I did not want to start any `cutesy stuff' in the restaurant that I couldn't handle. My heart was actually racing with excitement, but I was determined to remain resilient.
What spiked my curiosity about him was completely sexual. I had no interest in his education or IQ. I simply wanted him naked and lying under me.
I am not a boyfriend sort of guy and finding a partner is not on my `to-do' list. Having Alexsander worship the hell out of me – now that's another story. I could really get into something like that. And to be honest, that was pretty much what I thought about.
We left the restaurant together and decided to `hang out' for a while to see what the day would bring. We left our vehicles in the parking lot and crossed Cherry Drive rapping and joking around with each other as we waked along. I had a new friend and it felt nice.
Alexsander talked about the glamor of being a grease monkey working all hours. He said that it made him happy to please his customers. There was a hidden meaning there but I never caught on to it. Little did I know that I would learn about it later.
I told him I worked as a landscaper spending my summers outdoors as much as possible.
"So you lift trees and dig holes. I see where the muscles and trim bod comes from – all that exercise and physical work."
"It helps, but I also like going to the gym." I told him.
"Good for you. I seldom hang around a gym anymore."
"Why did you stop going?"
"Oh, I moved on to bigger things. The old guys, mostly yesterday's faggots, would act friendly and touch my butt. You know the out of shape senior dudes that smile and run their tongues over their lips. That makes me uncomfortable as hell. Although I may do it myself someday when I get old. The younger skinny rejects would take long showers hoping to suck some cock and find a boyfriend. I got tired of seeing all those little fuckers." I don't need that shit.
"That's happens a lot Alexsander, but it's easy to deal with."
It is only harmless play and I enjoy the attention. I like seeing a faggot on his knees with water running over his head while he services me. That puts me in charge of the little cocksucker and I feel powerful. That sounds terrible but they are getting what they want.
What I hate is being followed around by some dude who doesn't take `no' for an answer. They pop up every place I go. Yeah, I really hate that." I told Alexsander.
"How about if somebody waves a C note in front of you? Can you deal with that" He asked me.
"Yeah, of course I can and I am worth it. Still it bothers me to take money like a common whore, but I've done it"
"I remember one `fruit bunny' who was a screaming mother fucker but a good cocksucker. After a while, he was asked not to come back to the gym, so he would suck guys off in their car. He was really good at milking cock too." I added.
"You look good Michael." Alexsander said, giving my bicep a husky squeeze. "I see a degree of quality here" and touched me once more.
"Thanks"
"Believe me, it's my pleasure, pal. I'm only telling you the truth." "You look good"
"Should we keep talking about our gym experiences?" He asked as we walked along avoiding cracks in the sidewalk with every step.
"Oh, I don't care."
"Yeah, let's not then, forget the gym."
"Okay"
"Yeah, okay"
"So tell me more about the ditches that you dig!!"
"NOT ditches – planting holes for trees and shrubs."
"Oh yeah - shrubs," - RIGHT."
Sounding a bit sarcastic, I asked. "Okay Alexsander, tell me how you satisfy your customers."
"OUCH" – "I walked into that one" He blurted out and gave me a little tap on my arm."
Nothing more was said about our jobs. We were getting along well and I sensed a connection waiting to happen. I didn't want a steady boyfriend but I wasn't going to let Alexander get away without first tasting the wine.
A few minutes later, as we walked along still avoiding the sidewalk cracks, I stopped in front of a large stone building. Two huge concrete planter boxes by the entrance were overflowing with dark green vines and bright red summer annuals.
"This is where I live."
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Are you going to show me the room you want painted?" "The gallon of baby blue is waiting back there in your truck."
"Oh, I was only joking about volunteering. I don't need any help. Come in tho, and we can grab a beer." I anxiously blurted out.
Once inside Alexsander plunked himself down on the sofa. He didn't seem interested in seeing the apartment, so I didn't go there. Instead, I went to get a couple of beers that were chilling in the fridge.
Alexsander leaned back in the middle of the sofa with his legs spread apart like a football player waiting to be called on to the field. He had a hot-looking body and there was no missing the bulge he sported between his legs. He carried himself well and had masculine attraction fit for a champ. For sure, I could understand dudes wanting to touch his ass. His body was so beautiful. He had low slung hips and his butt curved around forming two perfect globes of flesh. As for the rest of him, just use your imagination. I kid you not. He was Romanian perfection.
I handed him a beer – no glass. He took a sip from the bottle, leaned back again on the sofa.
"Take your shirt off Michael! - I'd like to see your chest." He demanded.
= = = = = = = = = == = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = == = = = = = = =
Part 2 follows (Don't go away, things are heating up and sex rules everything.)
Our heroes become devoted to one another. Their existence revolves around sex and more sex. Nothing shocks them. Eventually evil attacks Alexsander.
Justin Balancier - Jbalancier9@yahoo.com – comments very welcomed.
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