"Who's Your Daddy" By Justin Balancier
The house on Maxwell Street was the Van Skiver's residence from the days when Maude and Boyd Van Skiver, newly married, purchased the home in 1940. They had a baby girl Carrie, who Maude raised on her own. There was a war going on and Boyd went off to France to fight against the German army.
Boyd died in the war during the invasion of Normandy, and buried world War 11 Cemetery and Memorial in Colleville-sur-Mer, Normandy. Grandmother Maude died ten years later in 1954. Some say she cried herself to death from a broken heart.
Seventy years have passed and the Van Skiver house now belongs to Carrie's only son, Daniel, age forty-two, single and gay. He lives alone content and happy.
By the time one finds the person they always wanted, you lack the energy to enjoy them. Not so, when it came to Daniel Van Skiver –
This is his story.
There is a mood at sunrise shared quietly and most beautifully in ones thoughts. It is tiring to explain and no reason to try. One just has to be there. Daniel stirred in bed stretching his legs straight out trying to get comfortable. The sun was peeking between the slats in the window blinds, hitting him directly in the eye.
"One more hour," he said aloud talking to himself – "alright a half hour." He rolled over seizing the bright light in his eye once again. "Fifteen minutes, fifteen lousy minutes," he mumbled, as if bargaining with a gypsy, then without hesitation, he got up. His feet hit the floor slipping into comfortable slippers, and he headed to the bathroom. It was a vivid reminder of the morning, and nothing out of the ordinary. What else can one do but pee at such a routine moment in time?
After a breakfast of oatmeal, with a mug of double chocolate cocoa, he felt like a million bucks and went outside. The day was delightful with warm temperature and even a warmer sun.
He would often think how crazy the world was with an assortment of crackpot people accepted as normal, simply because they looked normal.
People over react about everything, so Danny kept his sexual hunger to himself, relying on common sense, although he wondered what common sense had to do with anything. Good Lord, drag queens were entertaining first graders in public school.
In his forties Daniel worked in a glove factory, where he ran machinery cutting leather fingers for all types of gloves. He never liked that job, but it paid well and he was secure having a paycheck deposited in his bank account every week. He was not wealthy, but comfortable, very comfortable.
Danny wanted one thing, actually a couple of things! He lacked a true friend, so for Daniel, companionship, love and sex, still mattered. A friend who was a bit slutty, would be fine. Danny was a true blue top who lived to fuck. An outspoken player in the game, he didn't care his neighbor knowing he was a gay man. People see what they want to see. "Well, it`s a nice thought anyway."
The morning was warm and Danny brought with him a bottle of spring water. He took a swig every few minutes, as the sun bore down on his face. Danny sat for about twenty minutes, on a bench in front of the family homestead. The property could use some updating. The land desperately needed landscaping. The lawn wasn't bad looking, but could be better.
His neighbor, Mary Ellen Finch, would visit, just to chat, but stayed in her yard hanging on the rail fence separating the two properties. Mary Ellen was a chatty neighbor always asking questions and wanting to do something helpful. She was a nice person, but nosey. Danny didn't care for talking.
"Yoo-hoo, Daniel, It's such a lovely morning, how about a nice cold glass of beer? I have paper cups, and can run it over to you."
"It's 9:00 o'clock in the morning. Are you silly woman? Thank you, but no thank you." Danny replied.
"Oh, I forgot you're a gay man – sorry, just being neighborly." She replied.
"It's still 9:00 in the morning, what does gay, have to do with anything?"
"My mistake," she replied. You don't go around screaming and talking like a woman!"
"You mean a screaming Queen," replied Danny, annoyed with her constant chatter. "No, I am not that."
"Whatever," she answered. "It's all too bizarre for me to understand," Danny heard Mary Ellen mumbling to herself, walking back into her house.
"Good grief," chuckled Danny with thoughts trickling through his head. That woman is `classic weird'. Imagine a beer in a paper cup at 9:00 o'clock in the morning. Whom do I look like? –"Virginia Wolf."
Teddy the mail carrier handed him a bundle of mail wrapped with an ink-stained rubber band. Teddy was a character and would joke and flirt with folks, (male or female) along his route. Teddy teased or complimented everybody, depending what he could get away with.
"Well, you have a real good day," shouted Teddy, waving one hand in the air and walking back to his mail truck.
"That's my plan," Danny, shouted back, then mumbling quietly, "jackass."
The day was off to a roaring start. A white truck drove by and then a few minutes later, it drove by again. The truck lettered in green and white script, `GARDENING DONE RIGHT' with a phone number, but no address.
This time it stopped and a man in jeans, wearing a light green tee shirt, got out. He had rusty brown hair with a short stubble beard and walked, to where Danny was sitting on the bench.
"Is this your property?" he asked.
"Hello to you too," said Danny.
"Oh yeah, – `hello' – "Is this your property?" repeated the truck driver.
"Yup, why do you ask?"
"I am an independent landscaper and all-around handy man. I drive by here every day; well, practically every day. Your place could use some help. My name is Roberto. I do landscaping."
"I'm Danny. I cannot swing a landscaping project at this time. I'm working inside painting, and can't think about landscaping. For now, it will just have to remain lawn."
Danny was holding his mail however; his glance zeroed on Roberto's crotch, exactly where his eyes should not be. He took another swig of water and looked through the mail. It was mostly junk with politicians asking for donations, tools on sale, and jobs for logging in Vermont.
"Ahh fuck" said Danny still holding his mail and taking another swig of water from the bottle. "Here I go again."
"What's the matter?" said Roberto. "Is something bothering you?" he repeated.
"Yeah," admitted Danny. "I'm wondering what the catch is?"
"No catch man I am an honest landscaper with my own business. Okay, I know you are gay and I thought we could be friends. I like being around mature people, if you want me to leave, I apologize, for talking this way and will leave – not a problem."
"You don't have to leave," said Danny. "Tell me more, differences is where we find the truth." However, to Danny, it still sounded like there was a catch somewhere. Roberto evidentially had a good dick, and maybe he was hustling to sell it, knowing Danny was gay. It wasn't anything Danny couldn't handle; besides the intrigue was intriguing, if that makes any sense.
There was no need to chase him away. Roberto was different acting and probably a jerk; however, if one wants to get real, strangers are all jerks in the beginning.
Men seldom come along, interested in talking to Danny. Besides, Roberto had sweetness about him that Danny found stimulating; and the bulge in his crotch didn't hurt either.
"You're better at this `friendly stuff,' than I expected. Scoot over man and let me sit down," mumbled Roberto.
Danny stood up holding his mail. "C'mon, let's move to the enclosed porch. I have a neighbor who misses nothing, and talks about everything. The dizzy bitch will be asking me a million questions.
"So, people are curious, you can ignore her." Roberto replied.
"I know that," agreed Danny eyeing the butt on this man. It was a humdinger mound of flesh. It was not too hot and not too cold, it was a working ass, just right.
The porch wrapped around the side of the house to the back yard. It was private and away from the noise on the street, plus the neighbors. Danny had no particular reason for privacy except he liked it that way. He never advertised, or "flaunted" himself for attention.
"Good looking porch," Roberto stated sitting down in a comfortable rocker. It was one of two chairs left to him by his grandmother. Rumor has it; the two rocking chairs used on the Carol Burnett show. Harvey and Carol rocked side by side as seniors, Bert and Molly. Danny didn't know for certain, the truth of it, so he didn't boast about the rocking chairs.
Daniel wasn't a man who eyed other men as a conquest. However, one couldn't ignore the obvious, when it is sitting next to you in a rocking chair. He liked picturing people naked. Sometimes it was arousing and other times downright laughable.
They rocked in the famous chairs talking about everything, even sex but nothing vulgar. "What do you do for - Boy's night out," Roberto asked.
"Not much, but send me a man who's not too bright, and I'll think of something." Danny replied trying humor. It was a lousy idea and Roberto didn't seem amused, and only grinned.
"No can do," he finally replied. "I don't know anyone not too bright. Would a handy man with a rusty beard be of any interest to you," claimed Roberto barley looking at Danny. "I know where you can find one of them," he coyly muttered.
"You're straight from Sherwood forest," said Danny "No guy talks that way to another man."
"They do, if they want a blow job."
"A-ha, so that's the catch. You're a handy man looking for a blowjob!" Danny quizzed further.
"I am whatever you say I am," replied Roberto blushing but remaining polite. "I am not drunk just horned up for sure," he continued.
"That's cool," said Danny.
"Yeah - sure, everything is cool," Roberto humbly agreed.
Roberto leaned back trying to look casual, showing off the bottom half of his body. He was trim and had good-looking legs. Danny wondered what it would be like having Roberto straddling his face. However, it was fantasy, and sounded much too easy.
"How old are you?" asked Roberto.
"For what?"
"Pretty nosey – huh?"
"Nah, when it comes to age, pick a number and I'll agree with it," replied Danny who was not burly, but had a good body, sexy in a mature eager way. It sounded weird' having Roberto, (a stranger) ask about age. He thought only teenagers did something like that.
"That's it," said Danny, "You're gay."
"What part are you calling gay?" inquired Roberto?
"Gay doesn't come in parts. It is just who you are."
"Yeah, that's right, I am gay, but stay pretty much to myself. That's why I thought we might be friends," Roberto admitted.
"Okay, I'm down for that, we are friends," agreed Danny, "now what?"
Roberto, sitting next to him, seemed charged and energized. Nature had been generous, and it showed looking at his body. His butt was a given – it was the bulge impressing Danny. He wasn't a size queen, he just liked bulges. I'm not sure what the difference is there. He didn't care about size, any size would do. Daniel thought of crotch bulges as a present, to feel and sniff, before opening and played with like a toy.
They talked the rest of the time about landscaping, keeping everything general conversation. Danny showed Roberto, the rooms he planned to paint.
"Good looking place you have here," said Roberto.
"This house, my grandfather bought back around the time of World War 11. I am the last of the Van Skiver's, so here I am still holding down the fort."
"You're a lucky man – and a hot one too," said Roberto.
"Yup, I'm the real deal," Daniel replied, laughing at the nonsense.
"I should get out of here, it's still my work day," continued Roberto. "I have one more customer to see about a dying shrub. I'm a good businessman, and take care of my customers. I will replace the shrub. That is the simplest thing to do.
Give me a number where I can reach you." said Roberto, "uh, if you want too!"
"Why do you want to reach me? I'm not having landscaping done at this time."
"I'm not thinking about landscaping. I'm thinking about a blowjob. So give me the dam number!"
"Okay, hang on to it, and bring a paint brush when you come back. Naturally any work you do on the property is a paid job, and what you charge is fine with me," Danny said, grinning. I might as well see how handy you really are."
"I'll do that," replied Roberto, standing to leave. "Give me something to do, and keep me busy, I'm handy." He told Daniel.
Roberto was an example of not judging a book by its cover. The man, people saw on the outside, couldn't compare with the man he vision naked. Danny was positive about that, but time will tell.
Roberto was no kid; in his forties and pistol hot. He seemed like the prize behind door number one. With that, Roberto unbuckled his pants, letting them drop to the floor. "Inventory! – I just want to show what I'm talking about, when I say blowjob."
"I wouldn't call you bashful, Danny replied fixated on a plump cannon dick with matching balls. For sure, Danny called it right; Roberto was a prize!
"I'm not the best-looking man, I realize that, but the body is ready to work, placing Danny's hand on his chest smooth with fuzz and moisture.
"I see that," Danny mumbled. "You shouldn't be putting hungry thoughts in my head. I could tear that up like a cougar. Danny saw some furry hair under Roberto's arms. He wanted his face in there licking his way to victory.
The touching stopped, and Roberto pulled up his clothes tucking the shirt back in place. He was finished advertising. He would return for sex later. It pays to advertise even a fool knows that.
He left, however about fifteen minutes later Roberto called Danny. "I am not seeing my customer today after all, I can do that tomorrow. Been riding around horned up with Pecker Paul leaking at the tip, (don't laugh) wanting some company. Can I come back now?" He asked. "I'll worry about tomorrow – tomorrow!"
"Absolutely, get yourself back here." Daniel replied. "Leaking – now you're talking lunch!"
The doorbell rang. – Roberto was already back and standing outside the door talking to him on his phone. He was that certain about Danny.
Roberto looked different from only an hour ago. It had to be Danny's imagination, or testosterone flooding his brain. He looked like a man who needed to be fucked, as well as getting a great blowjob.
"Get your ass in here!" mumbled Danny. You unleashed a cougar.
Roberto kicked the door shut behind him. He held Danny, cheek to cheek. His tongue ran across Danny's ear. "Are you going to empty my balls, with your mouth?" he whispered.
Roberto had just wounded Danny with hungry thoughts. He wanted what he saw. It happened so fast, and all he had to do was believe.
"Is this making any sense?" asked Danny.
"I don't have to make sense, I'm Italian," Roberto replied.
"I hope you're hungry daddy love." He whispered putting his cock in Danny's hand.
Please remember Nifty. "Before you choose a fork in the road, you have to come to it." Any amount – we write, you choose – thanks.
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