Someone to Watch over Me
Warning:
This story contains scenes of love and sexual interaction between males of consenting age. If the reading or possessing this material is illegal in your country, state, province, county, municipality, etc., please leave this site immediately and do not proceed further. If you are under the legal age to read this, please do not do so. It is not my intention to offend anyone or to get you in trouble.
The author retains the copyright, and any other rights, to this original story. You may not publish it or any part of it without explicit authorization from me.
This is not my first attempt at writing fiction. My longer stories on Nifty include: "Always and Forever" (March 25, 2004), "Jacob and Jacques" (May 30, 2004), "Zeke" (August 29, 2005), "Tales from Bentonville" (November 16, 2008), and "Second Chance" (September 24, 2010) under "High School" in the gay male section. There are a few short stories also: "Brad and Alan's Canoe Trip" (April 22, 2004 under "Camping", "Of Angels and Dragons" (November 8, 2008) under "Camping", "A Christmas Tale" (December 22, 2009) under "High School", "Brazil Affair (October 1, 2010) under "Beginnings", and "Seth's Gift" (October 10, 2010) under the Science Fiction/Fantasy category.
I am now listed on Nifty under the category of "Prolific Net Authors" which will make it easier for you to access earlier stories. Some of these stories are also posted at: www.storylover.us along with those of other writers that may interest you.
My only reward for contributing to Nifty is your emails. Please write if you like the story. Please include the name of the story in the title of your email because my email service sometimes puts them in the "spam" file.
Finally, thanks and hugs to Tom and David who edit for me so that there are fewer mistakes! They not only proof-read, but make other valuable suggestions.
David (dlee169@hotmail.com)
Someone to Watch over Me Chapter 1
On a Friday evening in September, Doug Hartke was cruising along a street in a neighborhood known for offering all kinds of illegal and illicit diversions. In the next block, there were "ladies of the evening" as his grandmother would have euphemistically labeled them. A couple of blocks over was a suspected crack house. Marijuana was available on almost every corner. Heavier drugs were readily accessible to those with the right connections and sufficient money.
This particular street was not especially dangerous. Here, a few men were leaning against storefronts in tight jeans showing off their packages. It was this variety of pleasure that Doug was looking for. Possibly he'd find someone to cuddle with - someone who wasn't street-hardened and cynical. Fat chance! Most of these men had been in the business too long to be anything else. Maybe Doug should have checked craigslist instead. Perhaps he'd have found someone more innocent. But guys who posted there often stood you up. Maybe he should have tried to hook up at a club, but clubs were not his scene.
He was about to give up when he spied a nervous-looking young man in the shadow of the only tree on the block still struggling to survive in this concrete jungle. The guy certainly looked like the proverbial "boy next door" - possibly too young to be legal. Doug drove around the block trying to decide what to do.
On his second pass, he pulled up to the curb near the tree and put the passenger side window down. The young man walked over, giving him a shy smile.
"Can I do something for you?"
"Get in and let's talk. How much do you charge for `helping me'?"
"You a cop?"
"No. Are you a plant?"
"Huh?"
"You know, an under-age guy helping the cops arrest dirty old men like me."
"No! Besides, you don't look dirty or old."
"Good answer. But you'll have to provide proof of your age before we do anything."
"If I show you my ID, you'll have to show me yours."
"That's fair. Is this a new twist on I'll show you mine if you show me yours?" Doug chuckled.
The kid smiled at his joke and pulled out his driver's license. It had his picture and listed him as Paul Cage. From the birth date, Doug was able to place his age at 20 -- almost eight years his junior.
After looking at Doug's license, the young man ran down the list.
"I'll give you a hand job for $25. A blow job is $60, but I don't swallow. You can have my ass for $150, but I don't do bareback," the young man said.
"What if I want you in my bed all night?"
"I've never done that. What's it worth to you?"
"I was thinking maybe $200."
"I don't know. What would I have to do?"
"Whatever I want you to."
"That's not much money for all night."
"I'll cook you dinner and make it a pleasant evening. You can always say `no' to anything that you don't like. I'm not going to rape you!"
The young man thought for a few minutes before answering. That much money would help buy the books he'd need next term. A home-cooked meal would be great. The guy looked safe enough. Of course people said that serial killers were known to be charming on first meeting.
The guy probably could afford to pay more given the clothes he wore and the car he drove. If his home was on a par with those, it could be an enjoyable time. But Paul had to think about next semester's bills. He was doing this for money, not pleasure -- though having sex with this guy could be both. He could ask for more, but he'd only figured on making $60 to $80 that evening.
"Uh, could you go a little higher?"
`I wasn't planning to pay that much in the first place. I could pick up a guy at one of the clubs for free and do him until breakfast," Doug answered.
"Okay, I'll do it for $200. But that means no kinky stuff and I only get fucked once."
"As I told you, you don't need to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. I'm not into stuff like spanking unless it's play, and I'm not into S&M at all. Dress-up fantasy is cool."
"Okay," Paul said with a sigh of relief. "So what's for dinner?"
"That depends on your taste. I was planning to make chicken with artichokes in a mustard and wine sauce to put over pasta. I can make a green salad and I have a crispy baguette loaf that I made after work."
"That sounds awesome!" Paul exclaimed. "How did you learn to bake and all that?"
"I cheat. I make the dough in the bread-maker and finish it by hand. I set it up with the timer so it's ready for the second rising after I get home. You get inventive when you like to eat well, but don't care to pay restaurant prices all the time. I think you'll find that I'm a pretty good cook for a tech nerd."
The young men rode in silence most of the way to Doug's house. Paul was trying to figure out exactly which direction they were headed in case things got weird and he had to find his way back alone. He didn't want to get lost. He kept watching for street signs and bus stops. He had to be careful.
They eventually pulled into a long driveway which made a right angle turn toward an attached four-stall garage. At the press of a button, the door closest to the house went up and Doug pulled the car in.
"Is this like the garage for the whole condo?" Paul asked.
"No, it's all mine. This is a single-family house."
"That Solara convertible is yours?"
"Yeah."
Paul continued to be impressed as they walked into the house.
"Is your wife out of town?" Paul asked as he surveyed the clean, beautifully appointed kitchen.
"No wife, just me."
"You shouldn't be alone. You've got looks, great stuff, and probably a well-paying job. You'd be a great catch for any chick."
"I'm not into chicks and I haven't had time to meet anyone special. Most guys my age aren't into settling down yet. They still want to lead the college life of boozing all night and sleeping half the day."
"College isn't like that if you want to succeed," Paul insisted.
"I take it you know from experience."
"I'm doing pretty well, but I don't have time to party. My job takes up quite a bit of time when I'm not in classes or studying."
"You turn that many tricks in a week?" Doug asked in amazement.
"No, I'm a waiter in a restaurant during the week. I do this other stuff occasionally to help pay the bills. The tips for waiting tables are pretty good, but I'm always living on the edge financially."
"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I'm not implying that you're a whore."
"I guess I am; I do it for money..."
After dinner, Paul helped Doug clear the table and put things away. He wondered if he'd be expected to have sex on a full stomach. He wasn't looking forward to that, but he'd have to do what he was asked if he wanted the money. He was thankful when Doug suggested that they turn on the gas log in the fireplace and listen to music while dinner settled.
"I have show tunes, jazz, classical, some golden oldies, but no rap or hip-hop." Doug said.
"Um, I like most music. Do you have "Rent"?
"Sure, but just the Broadway version."
"That's cool."
Cuddling with Doug in the cozy family room was a pleasant way to spend an early autumn evening. Paul nearly forgot why he was there. But it all came flooding back when the disc ended and Doug suggested that they get ready for bed.
Paul was instructed to shower thoroughly and wash his hair in the main bathroom down the hall. When he was done, he was to put on the black silk boxers that Doug handed him and come to the master bedroom where they would sleep.
Doug showered in the master bath and put on boxers that were exactly like the ones he'd given to Paul. He was lying in the king sized bed with the lights turned low when Paul came in to join him.
"Wow, this room is at least as big as three dorm rooms. Your closet is probably bigger than my room. I've got a little one, but at least I have it to myself."
"You antisocial?"
"Nah, I just like being able to jack off looking at gay mags without being caught. People in college are usually more tolerant than in high school, but I want to be careful."
"So, you're gay; this isn't just a business?"
"Yeah, I'm gay."
Doug turned out the light and lay on his back. He pulled Paul over toward him so that he was on his side with his head resting on Doug's shoulder. It felt comfortable to both men.
Paul wasn't sure if he was supposed to make the first move or if he'd be in trouble if he did. Doug had told him that he needed to follow instructions, but he was confused as to what that might entail.
As they lay there, Paul began to daydream about what his life could be. In his fantasy, Doug was his lover/partner and they were simply spending an ordinary evening together.
Then he thought about how different that was from reality and it made him very sad.
Doug had assumed that his young companion had fallen asleep until he felt something wet on his chest. Paul made no sounds, but it was obvious to Doug that what he felt were tears.
"You want to talk about it?" he whispered.
"I'm not sure. You'll think I'm an idiot."
"Try me."
"I wish we'd have met under different circumstances. You're a really nice guy and I'm a whore."
"I'm not judging you. We all have our reasons for what we do and we all have baggage. Besides, who's the guilty party -- the one selling his body or the one buying it?"
Doug kissed Paul on the forehead and asked him to lie on his side facing the edge of the bed. Then Doug wrapped himself around Paul's back and told him to relax and go to sleep. Paul did as he was asked, eventually. For several minutes he wondered if he was going to get forcibly fucked the minute he let his guard down.
About 8:00 a.m., Paul awakened with a start, momentarily wondering where he was. Then it all came back in a flash. He wasn't naked and his butt didn't hurt. He hadn't been molested in his sleep. He wondered if his host was displeased with him. More importantly, he figured that he wouldn't get paid since he didn't perform. Oh well, it had been a really pleasant evening as he'd been promised. He could get used to this.
An urgent need to pee forced Paul out of bed. He was debating on his next move when Doug entered the room bearing a tray with breakfast for two.
"Man, I feel like royalty. I'm not used to being waited on. I should be serving you instead of the other way around."
"It is my pleasure to wait on you. You get to do enough of the other side at the restaurant I'm sure. I'll bet some of the customers can be a royal pain in the ass."
"Yeah, some. Not to make a pun out of pain in the ass, but I haven't earned my money."
"Didn't you do everything that I asked?" Doug smiled.
"Yeah, but..."
"I agreed to pay you $200 to be in my bed all night and do whatever I wanted. What I wanted most of all last night was to have you in my arms. Sometimes I like to fantasize about having a real relationship. I hope you're not offended. I'm sure you're a great lover."
"Don't you even want to see what you've paid for?"
"I can wait. By the way, what do you have planned for the day?"
"I need to get to the library to do some research for a paper that's due in two weeks. I don't like to put things off."
"You don't do that from your laptop in your room?"
"I would if I had one. I can't really afford that right now -- someday..."
"Okay, I have a thought. You can use one of my computers and do it here. I have a few things to take care of too. There's no reason we can't do them together, unless you'd rather get the hell out of here."
"I'd love to stay, but I need my flash-drive and some other stuff."
"We can get them and come back."
Doug found a new toothbrush for Paul to use and soon they were standing side by side at the twin sinks in the master bath getting ready to face the day.
Paul felt sad again that he was not the kind of guy that Doug would want to take home to meet the family. Damn! Why had they had to meet like this?
Paul's cell rang about 2:00. He had been so engrossed in his research that it had startled him. His boss wanted him to fill in for one of the waiters who'd called in sick. That was a likely story. Travis was conveniently sick almost every Saturday night. It was a wonder that he ever got scheduled at all! Paul hesitated to go in on his only full weekend off that month, but the symphony crowd would be there tonight and they tended to be generous tippers.
Since he'd followed Doug back with his own car, he wouldn't have to beg a ride back to campus. He wished he could spend a second night here, but that wasn't going to happen. He'd have to say his goodbyes pretty soon so he could go back and change.
"Here's your money," Doug said as he handed Paul a wad of crisp twenty- dollar bills.
"Thanks. I really don't deserve it; I didn't earn it."
By way of answer, Doug kissed Paul passionately on the lips. It was enough to leave him breathless.
"Could I persuade you to come back when you're off? I can't afford to pay you more I'm afraid, but I'd enjoy your company if you're interested."
"Sure. I'd love to come back."
"Let me find you an opener for the garage door. I'll leave the backdoor unlocked so you can let yourself in."
Author's note: I plan to post about once a week toward the end of the week. This story will likely run for around 12 weeks.
Thanks for reading. I hope you'll let me know if you like it.
Dlee169@hotmail.com
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David