Tourist Motor Court

TOURIST MOTOR COURT - 1 by Paul Daventon

Disclaimer

In the early part of the twentieth century, when motor vehicles were becoming plentiful, forward thinking individuals figured that those motorists would often want to find a place they could stay overnight to continue their journey the next day. They didn't construct fancy motels and inns as are frequent today. The first 'motels' usually contained a number of small cottages near the office facing a courtyard, and were called tourist courts.

These cottages were separated from each other by a distance for more privacy. I, personally, remember at a very young age staying at one of these motor courts with my parents and my sister in the late forties, while traveling on the early Pennsylvania Turnpike. At the time I believed it a wild exciting adventure, sleeping in a cabin-like structure away from home..

The Motor Court of which I write is a left-over, still functioning in the present day. I'm sure the residents are quite different from those in the forties. Travel though time with me to see how they wound up through there in Johnston City, a fictional city in a work of complete fiction, all characters are fictional and do not represent any living person.

All the usual restraints apply to this story. This story contains male/male explicit sex. If you don't like that, or are under 18, please leave.

Chapter One

Pete Johnston stood by the highway, looking over the property he had inherited in front of him. He saw the many trees, large maples and oaks in the two acre woods behind the cottages. The deep greens and shadows made a perfect backdrop for them. Right off the road was the office of the Johnson Motor Court to Pete's right. The driveway curved in a circle running past each of the eight cottages, a cement driveway in good shape in a semi-circle, then opened at the other end back onto US Route 30..

The office was much larger than the regular cottages. That building included the main living quarters for the owner, or manager. The office itself led to a living room, dining room and kitchen and two baths, one for the bedroom, and another half bath for guests when necessary. His main focus was on the office and cottages, how much better they looked than when he first saw the Motor Court. Those eight cottages had been run down, the paint peeling and the white trim looked shabby. Now they were sparkling white, deep red roofs, each one holding one room, closets and baths. In the cottage rooms were two beds, queen-sized, and tables, a couple easy chairs and such.

Johnston's Motor Court was situated in Johnston City, Ohio, a small city in the flat lands of northwestern Ohio, a farm town of maybe 15,000 people, with a feed mill, a small church- related college, schools, and the usual bars, gas stations, churches in their isolated spaces. Quite a few developments made up the living areas. In a five miles area around the town, approximately 20,000 more people worked those farms, mostly growing corn, wheat, soybeans and some businesses. The square in the middle of the city where the county court house sat was surrounded by four streets and many stores and shops. Grown trees shot up lining the streets all over the city. All in all, a standard farm city of the Midwest and northwest Ohio.

Pete was a tall, slender man, nice looking though having an air of being a roamer. After he graduated from school, he took off, left Johnston City for good and began some years of floating from job to job, town to town. He'd had some friends in Johnston and one uncle, but no one close to him. And he stayed a loner until three years ago when he began working on a farm. After those three years, a lawyer managed to find him in Knoxville, Iowa.

Pete was thinking of three months ago, the reason why he'd come back to Johnston City.

He'd been working as a hired hand on a farm near the city of Knoxville, Iowa, keeping himself alive and in fairly good shape. His wants were few, his basic needs fulfilled since he had a good place to sleep, his meals with the family and he made friends with the farmer's sons. Those boys were 18, 13, 9 when Pete was contacted, and all were good-lookers. All three had blond hair, blue eyes and darker eyebrows and lashes. Three brilliant smiles and bright flashing teeth showed their inner goodness. They were friendly, but didn't get too close. He assumed they had been warned about hired men. They weren't body builders, but had great natural bodies, helped by farm work.

The phone call from the lawyer was great news to Pete. His uncle Peter Johnston, from Johnston City, Ohio, had passed away and had left his estate to Pete. He had hardly known his uncle, a businessman in the city his great-grandfather had founded, and Pete had no idea of what his estate would amount to.

"Mr. Warren, I'm in Iowa and I don't have enough money to get to Johnston City. Could you advance me some from the estate?"

"Yes, Pete, I guess I can. It will come out of my own pocket, but I know you will pay it back. I will send it by Western Union to the Post Office in Knoxville. Can you get it then?"

Pete looked at the farmer, Jacob Stone, and told him what the lawyer said. "Could you take me into town tomorrow morning? I'm sorry to leave you and the boys, but my uncle has left me his estate and I have to get to Johnston City to pick up whatever I inherited."

"No, Pete, it's all right. We've loved having you working here, I know the boys will be unhappy, but if you must, you must. If you ever need somewhere to go, we'll always welcome you back. We'll call to see if the money is in tomorrow and we'll take you in. I'll give you what we owe you then, too." He looked around, seeing the boys sitting around the room, not happy. "Why don't you pack your belongings, too, I know there is a bus going out early tomorrow and we'll wait with you, maybe have some breakfast together. The boys would help you pack, I think they'd like that."

"Mr, Warren, that will be fine. I should be in Johnston City by Thursday, I think I remember where your office was. Thank you so much."

"I'll be waiting, Pete, I'm so happy I found you. Be careful on your trip."

"I will, thank you for finding me. Bye."

The boys, Ted(18), Tom (13) and Bobby (9) followed Pete to his room in the back part of the house. By the time they reached the bedroom, Bobby was already crying.

"Petey, don't go." He rushed into Pete's arms, pushing him back on the bed. "I don't want you to go. I love you." His arms wrapped around Pete, holding him fiercely so he couldn't go.

"Pete, we'll all miss you," Ted said, embarrassed, but still with courage enough to say, "We all love you, Pete. If we had the money, we'd go with you." Tom and Ted sat on the bed beside Pete who was still in the grasp of Bobby. "You have taught us so much about being good, being strong men and loving each other." By then he and Ted were also crying, something they probably hadn't done since they were 5.

Pete's throat was tight, clogged, but he managed, "Ted and Tom and Bobby, I do love you guys, you are wonderful. I'm sorry I have to go, but I do. I have no idea what my uncle's estate might include, but I hope it will be plenty." Pete smiled, and ruffled each boy's hair, "Maybe it's a lot of money and I'll come back see you.

"This is my uncle's old address which should still be good, and you can write to me if you want. I'll send a card to you when I know my address. Okay?" He gave the address card to Ted.

All three boys were hugging Pete, sobbing and sniffing. "Okay, Pete," Ted got out, "we'll wait til we hear from you." They released Pete from their clutches, smiling a little.

Bobby's eyes were still dripping, "Petey, I do love you and you better write to us, or I'll come and give you a whompin'." The other boys laughed at the thought of little Bobby giving Pete a whompin'.

Since the family was used to getting up early, they all got to bed soon after supper. Pete had undressed to his white briefs, setting out what he'd wear in the morning. He decided to shower before getting in bed. He felt tired, but eager to get moving, worn from the mental anxiety of the day. He shed a few tears to think he had to leave the ... 'his' ... boys. The four of them had great times together working and playing.

Pete loved seeing the boys naked, something they did often. He had the feeling they did it because he like to see their bodies. He always commented when he realized one of them had gotten more muscle, or finally got some hair. Bobby waited unhappily for his own hair to come in, but it hadn't, his pubic area was as bare as ever. He was so jealous of Ted and Tom's big cocks and bag, underarm hair and with Ted, a little on his pecs.

Pete never saw Tom and Ted aroused with a woodie. Even though he would have loved to play with all of them, he never would do that with minors. And that's what they were, except Ted..

After finishing his preparations, Pete gratefully slid onto the queen sized bed, on the cool sheets and soft pillow. He relaxed, exhaled noisily and spread his limbs out.

His mind had gone into neutral, his nerves were sending no messages. His thoughts were almost on nothing. Occasionally his almost still body would jerk with a slight movement of an arm, a finger or toes. Even that soon stopped, the room stilled and his world was at rest.

Pete didn't have any idea of time, but just a few minutes later he felt a small body crawl under his sheet and curl up against his body. He immediately knew it was Bobby, the small boy putting his arm over Pete and one leg on top of Pete's crotch. Neither Pete nor the boys had ever gotten that close, to touch each other. Never. But here was Bobby.

"What do you want, Bobby, can I do something?"

"No, Petey, I just want to sleep with you tonight. Is that okay?"

Pete wasn't sure how this would work out, but said yes. Then his hand brushed over Bobby's buttocks and Pete realized that the boy was naked. That they'd never done either.

'Oh, well,' Pete thought, 'it's his last night with me so why not.' He tried to sleep.

Just a minute or two passed and Bobby pulled Pete's arm and hand behind his body, ending up with Pete's hand on Bobby's buttocks while his body pulled closer to Pete's.

Bobby was in ecstasy, for three years while Petey had been living there, he had wanted to sleep with Petey. He also thought his father probably didn't know he and Ted and Tom usually slept together naked. Ted had learned much from a neighbor boy who had explored sex stuff with him. And he taught his brothers as soon as he could.

Pete wasn't asleep when he realized that two more bodies had crawled in the bed, Ted on his right and Tom on his left, squeezing Bobby between him and Pete.

"Ahem," Pete cleared his throat," I guess I should invite the whole family to sleep with me on this last night. Right?" The three boys thought that was very funny and began to laugh as quietly as they could. That was not very quiet.

"What's so funny." Pete though it was an honest question.

Tom finally spit out, "Pete, we just couldn't imagine our father in this bed too. There wouldn't be enough room."

Pete considered, "I guess I'd better not invite him, okay?"

Pete was feeling trapped, but trapped in a wonderful dream of his. One that he'd often had during his stay as hired hand. He felt Ted move in closer until Pete felt his hard cock against his leg. Since Bobby was between Tom and Pete, he couldn't feel anything there. So Tom's next move was to grab Pete's rigid cock inside his briefs. He felt it gently, trying to gauge the length and size. He became frustrated because of the underwear and lifted Bobby on top of Pete, then pulled Pete's underwear down and off his feet.

"Guys, I don't think we should do this. Really. I have never approached you because you are minors and young men whom I love and admire. I guess you figured out that I would like this, and, yes, I would, but .... it not right. No matter how much you think you have matured, you are still just boys. I am 32 years old, much too old for you. Let me explain. When I was in high school, some friends and I played around, jerking off and a little sucking, but that ended when I left school. Not that I didn't want it, but I didn't want it that way. When I find a man for me, he will be near my age, we will not play around until we have decided to be together forever. In other words, we would be partners, companions for life.

"Remember this, you three are the most handsome boys I've ever known, you have beautiful bodies, even Bobby." They laughed and tickled Bobby. "But, men, and you will all soon be men, I will never forget you and hope we can see each other again."

"But, Pete, we just want to sleep with you on your last night here in our house. Please." Ted was pleading for the trio, begging him to recognize each of them as friends of his and as individuals, three separate young men, close but still different.

Pete sat up, spreading his arms wide, "Come on in, accept my love on my conditions and lets get some sleep." Three boys madly fought to hold the biggest piece of Pete they could.

Ted spoke out, "One other thing tonight, Pete, you have never interfered with us, with our minds or with our bodies. You have seen our penises, but never our cocks and that's what he'd like to show."

Ted stood beside the bed, Tom went to stand by him and Bobby ended up between those two. Pete's eyes bulged out, wide and staring, all three cock were hard as rocks, and they were big. Ted's was 6" or so and Tom's stretched to 5 and ½ inches. They were thick with large heads that were already dripping. Ted and Tom lifted Bobby up until his dicklet was even with the others dicks. His little prick was maybe three inches long, about as big as a little finger. But it was hard. No kidding, hard as steel.

"Gentlemen, let me congratulate you, those are magnificent organs, you should be proud of them. And believe me, your wives should feel privileged and special that you have them. I don't know how your sexual role will end up being, but I would tell you to play with each other, but when you get to that point, find you a good woman and love her and keep her. Have loads of children to love you all of your days and theirs." He stared at those gorgeous cocks, wishing he could feel them in his mouth, and suck them dry. "Now, if we're sleeping together, that's all we'll do besides enjoy having us together my last night. I love you guys and always will."

Pete got out of the bed, showing his own cock, 7" and thick as a silver dollar, and the four of them came together in a tight hug. He knew they were crying, as he was, too, but he thought they needed to hold each other and him, too.

They resettled in the bed. Pete tried the best he could to touch each one, just hugging their bodies to him. He knew his cock would never go down that night, but it was worth it to be with these boys he loved dearly. He didn't go near their cocks or balls, that was their property, not his to play with.

At dawn, the boys and Pete untangled so they could get up, flood the toilet, all at the same time and they watched as Pete washed and shaved, used underarm deodorant and slapped shaving lotion on his face. Bobby got the underwear Pete would wear and held it out until Pete could get his legs in the holes, then Ted and Tom were allowed to pull the briefs up to his waist, carefully around his penis and bubble-butt ass. Pete did allow one bit of playing when Tom wanted to stuff Pete's soft cock and balls down into the crotch.

Ted had a T-shirt ready to slide over his head and shoulders while Tom got the khaki's on his legs and up to his waist. He grinned widely as he felt it was necessary to put his hand in Pete's crotch to be sure his precious parts would not be caught by the zipper. Then he zipped.

Tom and Ted each took one side of Pete's cowboy shirt, sliding Pete's arms into the sleeves, then fit it to his body. Bobby got to push the snaps on the cuffs and on the lower part of the shirt itself. Bobby also got to unzip Pete's pants while Tom and Ted pushed the shirt tails down under the pants. This time, Bobby got to push on Pete's prick, which was getting a little hard, while the others zipped the zipper. Bobby was really smiling, excited he got to do that.

"Well, let's get some shoes on the guy," Ted suggested. Pete was wondering what got these guys going, especially when Ted and Tom each took one foot and one sock. He couldn't believe they were giving his feet a massage, their strong fingers gently pressing on the hard feet. Once they were finished and Pete had a huge hardon, Bobby's job was to get Pete's cowboy boots on his feet. He had a little trouble at first, trying to put the left shoe on the right foot. Once that was straightened out, he succeeded well.

Pete looked around, then noticed his jacket on the bed. "I'll need that two." Not for the first time he was worried that the piece of clothing would be ripped in three pieces.

"Guys, if you will let me put on the jacket myself, I will ask for a big hug from each of you."

After the jacket was set, Pete lifted Bobby to stand on the bed. Bobby didn't waste any time getting his hug. Pete held him tightly, rubbing his back and little butt. He wished he could hold him in six or seven years.

He turned and Tom held up his arms, pulling Pete to him. Pete could feel Ted's woodie with his own erection, both pushing against each other. "Bye Petey," Tom whispered, "I'll miss you forever. I love you." Pete gave him an extra strong hug and whacked him on the butt. "Yes, and I admit I'll be jerking off thinking of you for that long at least. I love you too."

When Pete turned to see Ted, his face bright red, his head down and tears on his face. Pete moved to grab him, both gripping the other with their strongest grip. Again two erections pressed together, forced by will together. "Petey," Ted whispered, his lips on Pete's ear, "I wish we could have made love, and I'll wish that forever. I'll love you that long." He kissed Pete on the lips.

Bobby burst out, "Hey, I didn't get to do that, come back Petey." Pete gave Bobby a hard kiss, and then another hug with Tom and a hot kiss too.

"Boys, we have to go, you Dad will ..... "

"Boys," their Dad yelled, "It's time to go."

Pete finished packing and the boys carried down his baggage. They took him into town and got a meal out for everyone. That really surprised the boys. It must be a big deal to him because Mr. Stone hardly ever had them eat out.

They ate together, talking about the funny things that happened, especially when Pete tried to milk a cow who didn't want to be milked. She had kicked him through to the next week, the boys said.

After the group of the Stone family, all four, and Pete, just one, had finished a good breakfast at Bob Evans, Jacob asked Pete to walk with him for a little talk.

"Pete, I know you realize that we'll all miss you terribly, I will, too. You have become part of the family, and, like Bobby said, if you don't keep in touch, we'll all come to give you a whompin'"

Peter suddenly realized that Mr. Stone had heard them last night. "I'm so sorry, Jacob, I was just trying to build them up ... "

"Shut up," Mr Stone said with a smile. "Pete, I shouldn't have listened, but I knew for sure they would want to sleep with you. I do know about their antics naked in their own bed, but I don't think there is anything wrong with it. Good experience. I honestly don't think any of them will be gay, but, what will be, will be." He put his arm around Pete's shoulder, "But, Pete, I have a strong idea that you would have loved nothing better than to have had sex with them," he held up his hand as Pete started.. "and I must give you all the credit for staying away. You are a wonder, Petey, with convictions and strong beliefs. I thank you with all my heart." He pulled Pete in a strong, almost frenzied hug, "I devoutly wish I could keep you for them and myself. If you ever need us, please just call. And I mean that!" Looking Pete in his brown eyes, he pressed forward to give Pete a kiss, a father to son, kiss which Pete happily returned.

"Thanks, .. uh .... Dad, one of these day I just may need you, keep a light in the window."

At the bus station Pete got on the bus and took a seat where he could wave to them, each of them were either crying or bravely held back the tears. He waved as long as he could see them. He also had tears running down his cheeks.

On the bus that first night Pete was sitting next to a man about his own age. He noticed that the man, Regis, had a wedding ring on his left ring finger, but he never mentioned a wife. They talked quite a bit that evening, about themselves and jobs they'd had. They both tried to sleep that night, and Pete slept until almost dawn, maybe 4 am. The two men had put a blanket over them, covering their whole bodies.

Pete didn't realize that Regis had awakened the same time he did. Pete was lying in the seat on his right side, facing the window. Previously, they had raised the arm rest between their seat all the way, so had no obstacle to getting closer. As they slept during the night, Regis had moved directly behind Pete. When they awoke, Regis's left arm and hand rested on Pete's hip, slowly moving toward Pete's front side.

Immediately, Pete knew what Regis wanted to do, he wanted sex. Wonder if he doesn't get any at home? Pete had no scruples against sex on the bus with a stranger. He'd been hard ever since the boys had slept with him the night before.

So, Pete turned back toward Regis a bit, centering his crotch underneath Regis's hand. After Pete had turned, he opened his pants and pulled down the zipper. Finally, he pushed his pants and underpants down to his knees.

Emboldened, the other young man pressed on Pete's crotch. He jerked his fingers back when he felt Pete's naked cock and balls, open to his touch. Pete was really getting excited. He needed sex bad, and wanted it all. He reached behind him to Regis's pants. Regis quickly undid his belt and button, then unzipped his pants which fell to his knees too.

Pete searched wildly for the cock, and found a large, hard as nails poker out from Regis's crotch. He pumped it, moving the velvet skin back and forth, rubbing the pre-cum over his cock head, driving it wild.

Pete then moved his buttocks back toward that cock, needing it up his ass as fast as possible. He soon felt the big glans pushing at his anus, trying to break through the sphincter to enter the rectum.

With a mighty jerk, Pete forced the cock into his sheath. He was breathing hard 'cause there was pain, but he figured if he worked on it he'd soon feel Regis's pubes on his buttocks. They tried hard to be quiet, but Pete made some fairly loud moans. He hoped the people in seats near them would figure he was dreaming.

Regis wrapped his arms around Pete's chest, ramming his pelvis into Pete's buttocks and thus his ramrod to the depth of Pete's chute. He loved it, loved the feeling of being filled with the huge cock, tight and fixed on reaming out his rectal orifice. Regis had opened Pete's shirt and raised his t-shirt so he could pinch and toy with Pete's nipples, large, dark areola with quarter inch pointed nubs. He wanted to suck them, but not enough room under the blanket.

Finally, Regis began his final impetus toward shooting, he shoved in, pulled out a little and held it while his life force began to fill Pete's rectum, pumping and drowning in the juices there.

Pete felt the warmth of the hot fluid on the tender, sensitive sides of his intestines. He knew he'd been well loved. Regis relaxed while his body retreated from his erotic high and Pete waiting for Regis to withdraw from his anus. Pete shoved some paper napkins between his buttocks and sat back on the seat. The bus was still quiet, no one moving around.

Regis sank down on his knees in front of Pete's seat, spreading his knees as Pete spread the blanket over him. The young man between Pete's legs grabbed Pete's still hard cock, aiming it toward his mouth, caressing the glans with his tongue.

Pete arrived in Johnston City as planned, on that Thursday morning, a little early to dig up Mr. Warren, his uncle's lawyer. As he walked around the town square, lots of trees and stores on all four sides with the green and four streets in between.

He thought of his activities with Regis on the bus, man, when Regis sucked him, he came with a storm and thunder in his heart and cock. He had gotten so aroused when he'd said goodby to the Stone boys in his bedroom. He sure loved them dearly, wishing he could love them.

He found a greasy spoon restaurant, but thought, 'Well, it won't be the last time, neither.' While he was eating breakfast, not a bad one, he couldn't help feeling sad and miserable. He knew it had to be done, but he'd hated to do, leave that wonderful family. They had been so good to him and the boys had wiggled themselves into his heart, a heart which was not broken, but badly damaged.

"Pardon me, are you Pete Johnston?"

Pete looked up at a man, in a suit and tie, about 50, looking just like a lawyer. "Yes, I am, are you Mr. Warren?"

"Sure am, Pete, glad to see you. Let me get some coffee and I'll be back." Obviously Mr Warren was well known in the restaurant, he served himself and returned to the table.

"Glad you could make it, Pete, unfortunately I didn't find you soon enough for the funeral. Your uncle was cremated so there is no grave. I have the remains in a box in my office, I'd sort of like you to take it with you." He smiled at Pete. Pete understood. Put the old man where he belongs.

"Are you finished now?"

"Yes, Mr Warren, I'm ready to go." He pulled a five from his pocket and laid it on the table, the tab was just $3.50.

"By the way, Pete, my name is Henry, I wish you would use that."

"Sure."

Henry was showing Pete his uncle's will, page after page of tiny writing which he'd never be able to decipher.

"Henry, could you just explain it to me?"

"First, Pete, you are the only heir that I could find. He had left money to some people, but they are long dead. You are the only live one." He grinned, "Am I ever glad I found you, it would have been a real mess and I'd have a headache if I hadn't."

"I don't know of any other relatives. My parents died years ago and they had no siblings, I had no siblings and my great uncle had no siblings and no children. That sort of cleans it up."

"Okay, well here we go. You know the Johnston Motor Court out on Route 30, out past the college?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Your uncle owned that, though he didn't do much with it the last few years. It is a little run down but could be picked up with some work. If you were to run it, being a Johnston, I think you'd have easy sledding. The place has an office and owner's cottage first, then there are eight small cottages around the circle. Could be fixed up nice."

Pete smiled at Henry, "That sounds good to me. It would be nice to be back here in Johnston. Don't know that I'd recognize many people." Inwardly, Pete was jumping for joy, he will be the owner of a motor court. But, could he run it, by himself?

"Pete, there is a Peter's house, but that really belongs to the bank since it had two or three mortgages on it. There is some value to it, but the bank will take that. That's about it."

Pete was disappointed because he had expected some money. How could he keep going long enough to finish repairing the motor court?

"Oh, well," Henry said, surprised, "I didn't notice this codicil here. This is actually for you, Pete, he left you his favorite car, it's a 1970 Rolls Royce, in mint condition, so you could sell that and make a lot of money there. That's a good deal." Henry had been worried about Pete but that would help him. He liked Pete even though he had left under a cloud of suspicion, nothing ever came of it.

Henry pulled a set of keys from his desk drawer, "Petey, these are for the Motor Court. I'm sure you can stay there while you are getting settled. I'm pretty sure that the utilities are still on there and the bills have been paid." He thought a moment, "Oh, Pete I forgot, there is some money in Peter's checking account which will be yours. That's what has been paying for the utilities." He stood, "Come on, Pete, let's go to the bank and see what's there."

Half an hour later, Pete and Henry walked from the bank. Pete had a book of checks in his hand and a smile of his face. Peter's checking account had over $5000 in it, which now was Pete's. In the bank Pete had written a check for the money Henry had sent him in Iowa.

"I can't thank you enough, Henry, you are a good friend." He grinned, "At least I hope you are my friend."

Henry put an arm around Pete's shoulders, "I sure am, Petey, yes, we are friends. Anything you need, just let me know. I was a good friend of your uncle, and you are so much like him."

They were walking back toward Henry's office. Pete remembered, "I need to go back to the bus station to get my bags. Could I ask you to take me out to the Motor Court after that.?"

"Why, sure, Pete, come back to the office and we'll head out there."

After Henry went to his office on the second floor of the building, Pete decided to walk around the town's center, see what he could see. He could get the bags anytime. Pete sauntered around the square, if you could go 'round' a square. He giggled to himself. 'That was silly.'

He looked at the various stores as he went by. Some stuff he could use, but he didn't have any money at the moment.. 'Geez,' he thought, 'I didn't get any money for me. I'll have to stop at the bank later.' He smiled and the sun warmed his face, since it was mid spring the temperatures have been cool.

"Hey, is that you Petey?" Pete turned, some had called to him. He had been walking by a used car lot and the salesman on the lot was calling. 'Who is that?' he squinted. As the man came walking toward him, he did recognize the walk. He smiled to see Butch Kenton, the big fullback on the high school football team. He hadn't seen Butch for fifteen years or so.

"Hi, Petey, it is you?" Butch stuck out his hand to be shook.

"Hey, Butch, good to see you. It's been a long time." He was surprised that Butch now was gone to fat so much. "How you been, Butch?" They patted each other on the back. Butch's back was soft, if there were still any muscles there, he couldn't feel them.

"Oh, pretty good. Been selling cars here for ten years or so. How about you?"

"I've been traveling, Butch, just came back from Iowa since my uncle died. The lawyer couldn't find me in time for the funeral. I guess I'm back for a while."

An idea popped into Pete's head, seeing all those cars and trucks.

"Hey, Butch, could you do me a real favor. Do you really know cars and trucks?"

"Sure, Petey, I've been selling lots of them."

Pete decided to trust his old friend, though they hadn't been close. "I came into town from Iowa on a bus and I don't have a car or anything .... and I don't have much money, but I will need something. Can you find me a decent pickup, Butch? One that will run good and not fall apart in two weeks?

"Sure, I can, Petey. What are you going to be doing?"

Pete thought he could tell Butch what had happened. "Butch, I inherited my uncle's Johnston Motor Court, such as it is. So I'll be running that as soon as I can get it spruced up, you know, paint and some repairs."

"Hey, that's great, Petey, your uncle took good care of it until the last couple of years. It shouldn't be too bad. I haven't stayed there for years, I'm married now and have two kids, two boys, Petey, I'd be pleased for you to meet them and Mildred."

"I'd like that, Butch."

Butch got a sad, concerned on his face, "You may not of heard, Petey, we had another boy, now about 14 who ran away and we've never found him. We're so sad." The way he said it told Pete they really didn't care, one less mouth to feed.

"I'm sorry to hear that. What was his name."

"Kenton."

Pete thought, Kenton should be his last name. "Uh, Butch, what was his first name?"

"Oh, his name was Tim." Not is, but was his name. They had given up even hunting.

Butch looked around his lot. "Come here, Pete, I want you to look at this pickup I just got in. It's a beaut." Butch led him to a black, Ford 150 pickup, all cleaned up, looking snazzy.

"How many miles has it got on it?"

"About 90,000, Pete, but they weren't hard miles."

"Butch, you wouldn't be shittin' me, would you?" He looked closely at Butch, "The cab is really worn out, man, hardly any rubber on the pedals. Let's pop the hood."

Pete didn't know a lot, but he'd working with farm equipment and could tell the way a vehicle had been used. The motor and accessories did not look like 'easy miles'.

"How much, Butch?"

Butch thought a moment, he knew it was junk, but still wanted money out of it.

"Oh, I'd say three thousand bucks. That'd be a good deal," he tried to look serious.

"No, Butch, that's way too much and I can't see it lasting more'n a few months. What else you got?"

"Pete, why don't you look around at the pickups and see what interests you. I'll be in the office." He left hurriedly because his boss, the owner of the dealership, had arrived and expected Butch to be in the front of the place.

Within half and hour Pete had found the pickup he wanted. It still was a Ford 150, but not shiny at all. It wasn't pretty at all to look at, but just had 75,000 miles and the important parts seemed to be in good shape. The interior was clean, not nearly as worn as the first truck. He had decided.

"Hey, Butch," he yelled, "Come here, this is the one I want. How much?"

Butch pasted a weird smile on his face, probably his dickering face. "The best I can do on that, Pete, is $2000. That's it."

"Well," Pete stretched out slowly, "I was thinking more in the line of $500." He looked coolly at Butch, wondering if this 'worm' would cooperate.

"I guess I could come down to $1500, pal."

That did it for Pete, the 'pal' was a giveaway, this is war.

"Oh, Butch, maybe I could come up to $750, but that's it." He tried to look sad, pathetic.

Butch really needed a sale of any sort, "Okay, pal, let me talk to the manager. I'll be right back." He came back in a couple of minutes. "He said I can give it to you for $750."

"That's okay, Butch, but the tires are bad, how about a new set of tires? And, I'd like to drive it a little, just down to the bus station and back. Okay?"

Pete was already in the cab and shut the door. "Okay, Butch, get the tires ready and I'll be right back."

Pete had lied there, he needed to give the truck a test drive and pick up his baggage.

Ten minutes he drove into the used car dealership. He stopped it in front of the office and saw Butch coming out with the owner.

"Hi, Mister Johnston, I'm Henry Mellon, and I want to tell you that you picked out a good truck there, but we can't sell it for $750. I'd need at least $1500 plus the cost of tires."

Pete was disappointed, but didn't show it. "Sorry, then, no deal." Pete got out and started walking toward the street, aiming toward the square, two blocks away.

He didn't look back, just walked away. Then he heard his name called.

"Hey, Petey, come back. You can have the deal, including tires. Come back We'll put the tires on right away."

He thought, 'well, miracles do happen'. He drove away in his own pickup, the first car he'd ever had, and was he ever proud. He parked in front to Henry's office.

Butch had watched Pete drive away in the truck he stole from him. Well, he paid but not near enough. He'd always hated Pete in high school. Butch was the big jock, lots of girls, lots of friends, except for Pete. He thought Pete was a snob and couldn't understand it. He didn't have anything to be a snob about, his parents were poor, they lived in a low class neighborhood yet they owned the house. Pete's uncle Johnston was supposedly rich, but never gave Pete and his family anything.

Butch would like to smash Pete, pound him into the ground. 'He doesn't look very strong, not a fighter at all. Maybe I'll take him on. Then we'll see.'

At the lawyer's office he asked the secretary if he could make a long distance call. She checked with Henry, and he should just go ahead and go in the spare office and shut the door.

"Is this Jacob Stone? This is Pete. I'm in Johnston City and I'm doing well so far."

"Yes, my inheritance is a Motor Court, office and eight cottages. It needs fixing up and cleaning. I'll get started on that tomorrow, and there was a little money, maybe enough to last until I get the motel going."

"Oh sure, let me talk to them."

"Hi Bobby, ...... Yes, I love you too, my Bobby. When I make some money I'll come to see you. Hi Tom, ..... Yes I love you, too, my Tommy. ...... You put something in my bags, did you? .... Tom, I haven't opened my bags yet. I got a used pickup and am just about to go see my Johnston Motel Court. ..... No, it was named for my uncle, but now it's mine. Hi, Teddy, yes I love you too. You are the best, Teddy, don't say anything .... I am in love with you, Teddy, I really love you, I wish you were here I could show you how much. ..... Great, Ted, keep working on your pecs and lats. You look great. Must say good-bye, say Hi to your mother for me. Yes, bye."

Hanging up the phone, Pete came out and turned to the secretary, "Thank you, I appreciate it." He thought of getting money. "Pardon me," Pete pullout his check book, "how do I get some money out of this, you know, real cash?"

She smiled sweetly, thinking it was his first checkbook ever ... and it was. "You make out a check for cash and the bank will cash it for you."

Pete wasn't sure he understood. "Ah, would you write one out for me?" He smiled brightly, "I guess I don't quite understand."

"Sure, but you have to sign it the same way you signed the card at the bank this morning. How much money do you want?"

"I guess fifty dollars."

"Thanks."

Ten minutes later, Pete was in his truck, cash money in his pocket, bouncing on the springy seat and loving every bit of it. The box of his uncle's ashes sat on the seat beside him. He planned to plant them somewhere on the property of the Motor Court. Just past the college on the right, he turned into the driveway of the motel and parked in front of the office.

For the next hour, he looked over the office and his own apartment, then each of the eight cottages in order around the driveway which continued until it met the highway again. A half- circle. There was some damage, not bad, painting most needed, and general cleaning. He assumed that he'd better get new sheets and pillow cases, towels and curtains. Maybe he'd better check in the office to see if there were more linens. All the appliances were working well, but he hadn't tried each of the small air conditioners. He'd had to figure out what keys unlock which cottages, no numbers on them.

When he hunkered down, looking close at the locks, he noticed that someone had tried to get in some of them. But he saw no damage or theft, the furniture was as it should have been. The office needed the most work right away so he could live in it. Again, all utilities worked, he wondered why they left them on. Maybe his uncle wasn't very alert toward the end. Could be?

Pete got the bags and his uncle's ashes out of the truck, open the office door and stepped inside.

He was thrilled. Here he was in the office of his own motel just where he used to live.

Looking through the dirty window, 'must do windows', he thought. He saw the buildings of the Johnston College, wondering how that would affect his business. He'd have to mull that over. Moving behind the customer counter, he passed through to his apartment. There he found a small living room, a dining room, a smaller bedroom with a queen sized bed and dresser and night table. The decor left much to be desired, but it would do until the money was rolling in. He found a very good glass enclosed shower, room for two, anyway.

Pete unpacked his bag and backpack, loading the dresser and closet with his clothes and two other pair of shoes. He knew he'd like to get out of the cowboy shoes, into some trainers. When Pete got down to the bottom of the bag, he found a flat paper bag, about 5 by 7, just slightly thick.

He sat on the bed, pulled a cardboard picture frame and opened it. He was stunned, Ted had given him a photo of each boy, Ted, Tom and Bobby. They were naked with their cock at full mast, looking so huge on their smaller bodies. He lay back, his head on the pillow, looking at one after the other, then in order again. He stared at their bodies, their lovely faces and honest expressions and his own woodie pulsed against his pants, obviously leaking pre-cum into his briefs.

'How had they done this? Maybe on their computer with pictures from a digital camera?'

A wondrous, warm loving smile found it's way on Pete's face, 'Those dumb kids, their Dad could have found them.' On a whim Pete looked into the bag again where, at the bottom, he could another picture, wrapped in paper and tape. Once he freed it so he could look, he saw a picture of Jacob, naked, the boys' father. ' Oh, god, he is gorgeous,' Pete thought, 'and look at that huge cock. I should have stayed there the rest of my life. No wonder Mr. Stone was so able to decipher my wants and needs, that I needed male sex and would want the boys.'

'I wonder if he'd had his boys before I got there. Mrs. Stone is such a non-entity, just a cook, seamstress, maid in the house.'

Pete still scanned arousing photos of the boys and Mr. Stone, Jacob. He was slender and tall, nicely built but not a body builder, just from working on the farm. 'Oh,' Pete moaned, 'I could have loved him too. Now I'm going to need to make money so I can go back to them in my true self.'

That day Pete started working to get the motel into good shape so he could open. He first worked on Cottages 1, 2, 3 and 4, cleaning, changing linens, curtains. The carpet had been newly laid so he figured he could clean it. The bathrooms took the most time since some water had been leaking into the tub, causing brown streaks from the minerals in the water.

In each cottage he found just a little indication that someone had stayed there overnight, but all the fittings and waste baskets were clean, no trash. This happened in each cottage he cleaned, and he found a little trash in hidden places. The mystery was beginning to bother him.

As he left cottage #7 and turned to lock the door, Pete noticed a flash of something which came from the back of cottage #4, but he couldn't tell what.

He thought, 'We don't have animals that big around here, nohow, it must have been a person. A boy, maybe, who knows.'

Two days later, Pete noticed the door to Cottage #4 was slightly open. He crept up to it and peeked in. "Ah ha, my ghost. I must be careful. If he is on the run, I could startle him so he'd never come back. I don't want to chase him.'

Fortunately, the door didn't squeak when it opened, so he walked in and sat by the bed. The boy, oh, maybe 14, just like Tom, was deep asleep, lightly snoring. Pete smiled to himself, 'He must have been up late. I wonder how he's been eating?'

Pete sat back and rested, agreeable to waiting until the boy, maybe Tim Kenton, woke up on his own.

Tim's eyes opened wide and staring at him.

"Hi, Tim, is it? I'm Pete and this is my motel now. I inherited it from my uncle. Are you Tim, Tim Kenton?"

Tim didn't speak but just nodded. His dark hair fell into his eyes, blue eyes, too. But he had a beautiful face, long and narrow, with thrilling shiny red lips.

"Tim, can I tell you something?"

Again Tim nodded.

"You are a handsome young man, if I may say it, a beautiful young man." Pete smiled, "I'd adopt you in an instant, I don't have any children, actually I'm not married either, but as I said, you could be my boy with a jump of ...." he gauged the distance of the bed from his chair,"about two feet if that was something you wanted to do."

Pete sat back in his chair, watching Tim's eyes, alert for panic.

"Should I explain what I meant, Tim." More nods. "I would keep you as my own son. I would feed you, clothe you, and give you my attention and love. Really, you have my love already. Tim, I would help you with any of your problems, anything. I would keep you just as long as you would want me to."

Pete grinned at Tim, urging him to make the decision. Maybe a little more, he thought.

"Tim, does anyone know where you are?"

"No," a soft indeterminate voice, but assuredly young male person.

"Tim, I would not return you to your father and mother even if I were threatened. I would not take you to the police or social workers or to an orphanage. I am fixing up this motel so I can make some money.

"If you want to be with me, you can stay in one of the cottage legally, with my permission. We will eat together most of the time and we could take trips if I can find someone to take my place in the motel office and if you want to."

Pete again waiting patiently, keeping his eyes on Tim's, alert for anything.

Suddenly, the bed covers flashed in the air and Pete's lap was filled with a gawky, thin limbed young man, holding on for dear life. Pete could only enfold him in his arms, holding the shivering, cold boy, he was a boy, but a boy who has had terrible trials. He was also naked.

Tim lay in his lap in a fetal position, curved into as small a person he could be.

"Mr. Johnston, would you hold me like this often, whenever I want?"

Pete kissed Tim on the forehead, brushing his hair away from his eyes. "Yes, Tim, of course, I will love you and hold you when you want."

"Good."

"Tim, could you tell me why you left your home? No matter what it is I won't go back on what I've already promised you. I promise."

Pete soon realized that Tim was crying, softly letting big tears drop on Pete"s chest, "Timmy, I will care for you. You may live here with me, either in one of the cottages or in the office apartment. It's up to you. You're choice."

Tim's body shuddered, caught, then relaxed again.

"Pete, after I tell you why I left, you may not want me around at all."

"I don't think that would matter, Tim, believe me."

Taking a big breath, Tim eased back on Pete, "My Dad kicked me out of the house, told me I could never come back. He caught me and Derrick in the garage, sucking each other off. He called us horrible names, but he let Derrick go home. He called Derrick's parents and they told him to go mind his own business. They weren't happy with Derrick being gay, but they weren't going to kick him out either."

"Timmy, that isn't going to bother me one whit. My parents kicked me out too. So, we are twins." Tim laughed at that, the idea that we looked alike. "You are silly," he told me.

It was getting more and more difficult to hold Tim. He was thin but he was still heavy.

"Baby, you'd better get dressed. We wouldn't want any getting the wrong idea." Tim giggled again, his brilliant smile radiating love and sweet affection.

"Geez, Pete, I'd rather you get naked and get in bed with me." He blushed but really sounded sincere.

"Aren't you 14, Tim?" He nodded. "You know that you are not an adult." He nodded. "And you know what could happen to me if I were caught molesting a minor." He nodded and grinned, "But I'd never tell."

Pete could only hold Tim in his arms, caressing his soft, smooth body, no hair except in his crotch and under his arms. His pubes were dark, but soft and shiny, curling around the base of his penis, protecting it. "Okay, have you decided where you want to stay? Then I have to go get groceries. I'm getting hungry."

"Petey, I think it would be better if I stayed in the first cottage, my stuff would be there and not in the office apartment where you live." He grinned evilly, "But I might just happen to visit you occasionally, maybe every night."

"Stand up, Timmy, let me look at you, study your body. It is a fine one, you know, you are so handsome. How about putting your clothes on and we'll make the bed. Ah ... you didn't happen to jerk off in this bed, did you?" Suddenly, he realized he shouldn't have said that.

Tim's whole body got red from head to toe, he was terminally mortified with Pete's statement.

Pete stood up in front of Tim, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry, but, hell, you know we both do it all the time. Right?"

Tim's smile this time was one of dirty thoughts, however he did agree. "Lots!" He turned to get his clothes and Pete was treated with a view of Tim's butt, a wonderful little bubble butt.

Pete couldn't help just brushing it with his hands, "Oh, god, Timmy, you are gorgeous at both ends." Tim donned his clothes in record time, not really wanting to be stared at, especially by someone he had just met.

"Hey, I know. Tim, we'll go get some grease and cholesterol in my truck at some fast food place and you can hide down, then we'll go somewhere to eat. Do you know a nice place?"

"Yup, Dad, I can take you to a place I like to go to meditate."

"Where did you get the name, Dad, Timmy?"

"Well, I don't got one, and I want one and you are it." He gave me the warmest, most delightful smile I'd ever had, even better than Bobby's.

About two hours later, Pete and Tim were still sitting his Pete's truck, parked in the woodiest rest stop on Rt. 30., at least 20 miles from Johnston City. They had eaten, then sat talking to each other, telling stories about themselves and others.

Tim was laying back on top of Pete who had his arms around Tim's chest.

"Pete, I haven't been this happy and unafraid in three months. Thank you so much."

Pete wondered some about Tim. "Is that how long since you were kicked out?" He nodded. "How have you survived, how have you gotten food, baby, you were living on your own, right? Why haven't you starved?"

Tim turned around in his seat, sitting on his legs and put his face into the space between Pete's shoulder and neck. "Pete, one woman has saved me from that. Miss Johnston, she's a retired elementary teacher ... "

Pete broke in, "Is her name Isabel, Tim?"

"Yep."

"I had her in grade school. I'd like to talk to her again. Does she understand why you were kicked out and why you can't go back."

"Yes, she wormed it out of me soon after I showed up at her door. Even since, she's been feeding me one meal a day, at noon. I think she is lonely so I stay and talk with her for a while. I've been counting on her not telling on me, I don't think she will."

"Timmy, can you tell what her health is like?"

Tim responded, "She seems pretty well, though she gets vague sometimes."

"What I'm concerned about is that she may become ill and feel you need to be taken care of, so would turn you in to the cops. I better talk to her so she knows I'm around to take care of you."

"Okay."

"Tim, we'll go back to the motel, could you fix up that cottage? Remake the bed and do the sweeping and dusting."

"Sure, Pete, I'll be here while you talk to Miss Johnston."

When Pete knocked on the door of Miss Johnston's house, she answered by saying, "Why, what a treat. Peter Johnston, it so good to see you. I wondered after your uncle died if you would come back. I assume you are going to take over the Motor Court?"

"Hi Miss Johnston, good to see you too. Yes, I've come back to find out I've inherited the Johnston Motor Court. I told Mr. Warren that I'd be taking over."

"I'm glad you are back, I was so sorry when you left, you've probably been mostly roving, going from job to job, one better or worse than the others."

They sat in the living of her old home. "My last work was at a farm in Knoxville, Iowa, as a hired hand. I was taken in as a part of the family. They had three wonderful boys whom I hated to leave, and they were disappointed that I was leaving. If I make some money, I'll go back, probably."

Miss Johnston looked into my eyes. "Peter, I think that was your calling, wasn't it? You would be related to boys of all kinds, to help, to fancy and to love, maybe. I wish I could have helped you then, but you weren't ready for help. You look very good, I can see your last relationship must have been grand."

"Yes, and I've made a new one today. I want to thank you for keeping Tim Kenton alive. He's alive because of you. Actually, I came to tell you that I will be responsible for him. But, I will make sure he stops to see you every day. Would that be all right? He seems to feel a little responsible for you." Pete smiled at her, realizing the irony of his statement.

She smiled back, "Yes, I would have expected no less from him. He's a wonder." She stood, "Peter, I expect you to care for him and love him. You are a little old now, but not too old. However, I doubt if you care for men your age and or older. Tim will watch for me, and I wish you two a good life."

Pete stuck out his hand to her, "I want to do what I should have done years ago, and that's thank you for your helping me then. You made a difference in my life."

"That's good to hear, Pete, now go take care of Tim, I'll love to see him when I can. Bye."

Pete met Tim back at the cottage, "Let go to the office. Miss Johnston would like to see you once in a while instead of feeding you, which I will do, Timmy. That's okay?"

"Yes, that's fine. I'd miss her if I didn't."

At the office Pete and Tim went to the linen cabinet to get more sheets and pillow cases, towels and washcloths. Tim took the first load to Cottage #1 while Pete dug for more. When he grabbed the sheets, he gripped the shelf too, not knowing it. When he pulled hard, the sheets came down and the shelf ripped part of the wall from the 2x4s. Pete set down the shelf, dropping the sheets on the floor and looked at the back of the cabinet.

"Holy shit, what the hell is that?" Just as he said that, Tim walked into Pete's bedroom, wondering what Pete was yelling at.

"Look here, Timmy, look what I found."

Tim could see that the space between the two by fours was stuffed with paper, lots of bits of paper. "What is it, Petey, what could it be?"

Pete tried to grab a bunch of the stacks of paper. He got some and threw it on his bed. When they looked closely, they found it was all hundred dollar bills, stacks and stacks of them. Petey embraced Timmy, "Do you see this, baby, we're rich, we ... are .... rich!!!"

They clutched each other and danced around the room, "Just look at this, old uncle Peter hid his money in a great place. And we found it." In his excitement Peter kissed Timmy on the lips, and not a short kiss either.

"Oh, my god, Tim, I didn't mean to kiss you, especially that way. I'm so sorry."

Tim was building to a wide, satisfied smile across his face, "Petey, I loved it." He leaned back to press his lips on Pete's.

With all the determination in his body Pete pulled away from Tim, "Tim, we shouldn't do this, you're too young, babe, and we shouldn't do it."

Tim pulled back too, but the smile on his face remained, looking for more.

Pete looked down and took Tim's right hand in his own. "Tim, we'll have to talk about that soon, but FIRST," he yelled, "we need to count our money. Get it all down into a pile on the bed, then we count." He patted Tim on the back, "You can count, can't you?"

"Hah, Petey, I can count as high as you."

The notebook in which they were writing down numbers was in Pete's hand when he announced, "Timmy, this is Fifty Thousand dollars. Do you believe it? I can't"

"You don't suppose it could be counterfeit, do you?" Tim was a little worried.

"Well, tomorrow I'll head for the bank to make sure it is real. Now, where are we going to keep it, huh?"

Timmy soon suggested, "Couldn't we put it back where it was? It seemed to be safe there before."

"Sounds good to me." He spoke softly, "On Sunday we are going to church, the Lutheran church where I grew up. I wonder if the same pastor is still there."

"Was it Rev. Loudon, Pete? If it was, he is still there!"

Pete jumped up, clapped his hands, "Yes, that's the man, twenty years now. Thank Goodness."

Hope you enjoyed my story. I would be pleased if you wrote about the story and I will answer all email except flames. Authorpaul@mail.com