Blue Collar, White Collar

Revised version copyright 2009 by the author.

*

He was brusque when I called him, as I knew he would be. "Where the FUCK have you been?" his voice demanded.

"Busy," I replied, knowing how stupid it sounded.

"For six months? I haven't heard from you since last spring. Jesus, I ought to just fucking hang up on you."

"What can I say, Gary? I'm sorry. I know I've been a jerk."

"You're always sorry, as if that makes any difference." His voice was still truculent, but the fact that he was still on the line meant I was making inroads.

"So how have you been?" Lame, Tom, lame.

"What do you think? Out all day, five days a week, hammering and sweating. Real work, unlike some people."

Gary had a perverse pride about his lack of formal education. He was smart, though. Smart enough to know how to make me laugh, smart enough to sting with his words. He had done both after our first encounter several years ago, out in the brushy woods beyond the creek in the north city park.

"For a desk jockey, you sure give good head, man." He had said this just after he had emptied his load down my throat. I'd been turned on more than I had been in a long time by his icy blue eyes in a sunburned, craggy face, his half-open work shirt, and the tight jeans that fit his long legs and narrow hips perfectly. His cock was cut and heavily veined, long enough to hit the back of my throat when I took him down to his root, a move that drew a grunt of satisfaction. I'd come to the park from my last class of the day, still in my tie and dress slacks, and had gladly knelt before him, heedless of my clothes.

I looked up, half-surprised, half-amused. "Thanks, I think."

"Usually don't let guys in ties do me," he said, buttoning his 501s.

I took the bait. "What's wrong with guys in ties?"

"Soft. Scared. Usually married. You're pretty cute for a married guy, though."

I was starting to get irritated by his assumptions. "I'm not married."

"Not to a woman, maybe." He saw that he had guessed correctly. "Gonna tell your `other half' about me, bud?"

I tried to parry. "What about yours?"

"Don't have one. Haven't found a rich guy like you. Say hi to your partner for me, okay?"

He turned and walked away. I rose in a turmoil of frustration and desire, wanting to shout to him, ask for his phone number, fearing that I would never see him again. But I stayed silent, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Then suddenly he turned and said, "The name's Gary, by the way."

"Mine's Tom," I quickly replied. I had to add something. "See you again sometime."

He paused at that, and an unexpectedly impish grin appeared on his face, making him handsomer than ever. "You never know." Then he was gone. I'd gotten so worked up by then that I walked back into the woods to a secluded spot, pulled my cock out and jacked it until I dropped my own load onto the ground.

It was probably a year later that I saw Gary again. I wasn't sex-hunting in the park that day, or so I told him later. It was a lovely sunny Saturday afternoon and I was strolling along the creek, watching the sun play on the water, marveling that fish still lived there despite the fact it ran in the middle of an increasingly large city. I heard footsteps near me and there he was. I remember exactly what he was wearing--jeans of course, a hot pink tank top that exposed his muscular, tanned shoulders and arms, Nikes, and a somewhat dirty white baseball cap. His thumbs were hooked into his front pockets--he made this tired pose look enticing.

"Fishing?" he said, grinning.

I was astounded and delighted to see him, but knew better than to let him know it. "Nope," I answered casually, though my heart was pounding. "Waiting for you."

"The hell you were. Walked right by my truck in the parking lot, didn't even wave or nothing."

"I don't know what you drive. You could have said something."

"Decided to follow you instead. Wanted to see how long it would be before you noticed."

"Sneaky. So what now?"

"See those flat stones over there?" he said, pointing to a row placed across the water nearby. "Little trail on the other side, leads up the hill to a nice shady spot. Come on," he said, starting to cross.

He stepped across gracefully and easily, as I scrambled to keep up. One of my feet slid into the water and I cursed. Gary looked around and snorted derisively, but he did slow his pace a bit. As we climbed up the steep trail I panted from the exertion, though I wasn't too winded to notice how good Gary's butt looked in his jeans. At last we reached the spot he had been talking about, a small clearing quite a ways up the hill. In the center there was a large tree. When we reached it, Gary turned and faced me. "The only way up is the way we came. Easy to tell if someone's coming."

I started to get on my knees before him as I had done the first time, but he stopped me by putting his hands underneath my arms. "Not so fast, bud," he said, and kissed me, hard. His strong arms hugged me as our mouths ground together. I felt the ropes of muscle in his back and shoulders.

We broke apart, our breathing loud in the still woods. He unzipped my khaki shorts and put his hand in, rubbing my cock through my briefs, then pulling down the waistband and taking it out. In a moment he had it in his mouth. I leaned back against the bark of the tree, closing my eyes as waves of pleasure pulsed through my body. A moment later I opened them as Gary paused. He took off his cap and resettled it on his head with the bill pointing backwards. He caught my eye and grinned as he continued his labors, taking me down to the root, bringing me to the edge of cumming. He sensed this and stopped.

"Your turn," he said, rising to his feet. I was more than willing to oblige, kneeling down and undoing the buttons on his jeans. He was wearing no underwear, and the cock I remembered jutted out. I teased him and myself by not taking it right away, licking and washing his balls, letting the shaft slide against my face, feeling the precum from the dark head smear my cheek.

"Suck me, man," Gary said urgently, and finally I obeyed, deep-throating him with abandon. His hands caressed my hair and moved downward, pulling at my T-shirt and baring my back. They slid underneath the waistband of my underwear.

"Up against the tree, bud," he whispered in my ear. I knew what he wanted and was ready to give it to him. I turned my back and braced myself against the tree, bending and arching my back so that he could get at my ass. I felt his hands part my cheeks and a moment later the soft wetness of his tongue on them. It roved to the cleft between the cheeks and moved downward, leaving a wet trail that cooled quickly in the open air and sent shivers through me. Then he reached my asshole, his tongue and lips skillfully probing and teasing it as I moaned softly. One of his hands reached around my leg and grasped my cock, which was still hard.

"Fuck me," I said.

Gary stood, and I turned to watch him peel off his tank top and drop it on the ground beside him. Staring into my eyes, he pushed his jeans down, revealing his hard torso, a fine line of hair running from his navel down to his dark pubic bush out of which his hard cock rose.

He raised a hand to his mouth, then dropped it to his organ, lubing it with the saliva.

"Take off that T-shirt. I want you naked for this."

I obeyed, my knees shaking. The knowledge that discovery would be disaster only added to the thrill. I turned around and wrapped my arms around the tree. Gary moved into position behind me. I felt something hard and blunt push against my hole and before I had time to think, it broke through the ring. Pain shot through my body. I uttered a short cry and tried to squirm away. A strong arm encircled my neck, pressing against my throat hard enough to make breathing difficult. I let out a muffled protest, and felt his hot breath on my right ear.

"No you don't," he said softly. "You said you wanted it, now take it, you hear?" More gently he said, "I'm not going to hurt you. Just relax and I'll go slow, OK?"

I nodded and tried to obey. In a moment, the tension in my asshole, and with it the pain, lessened. "Good, man," Gary said, relaxing his grip around my neck. I felt his hardness begin to move slowly further into me. There was no more hurt, only warm fullness and the indescribable joy of surrendering to another man's invading strength. Deeper and deeper he went until I was sure his prick was halfway up my gut. At last I felt his body press against my butt and knew that I had taken all of him into me. It was Gary's turn to sigh with pleasure. "Man, that's great," he said.

He began to thrust, bending and wrapping his arms around my chest as he fucked me. I felt his warm quick breath against my neck, smelled the sweat from his exertions, felt the burning heat of his driving rod in my ass. I closed my eyes and gave myself up to him. My own cock had gotten soft, but hardened again as one of his rough hands grasped and began to jack it.

It took only a few minutes of this assault before I passed the point of no return. "Oh God I'm cumming," I gasped. The first spurt splashed onto the tree trunk, the rest on the ground. Despite the fear of discovery I groaned with pleasure, dimly aware that Gary's breathing had deepened and turned into hoarse grunts. He slammed his cock all the way in and held it there, his arms squeezing the breath out of me. His shaft pulsed in my hole as he emptied himself into me. At last Gary let go with a sigh and let his full weight rest on my back. He kissed the back of my neck. "Man, you are hot," he said.

After a moment he rose and pulled himself out of me. I turned around to see him wiping himself with his tank top. He held it out to me and laughed at what must have been the squeamishness on my face. "Better clean yourself up, buddy, there's cum running down the backs of your legs. It's this or your own T-shirt."

Faced with that, I obeyed, as Gary pulled his jeans back up. After I was done, I held the tank top gingerly in my hand.

"Just toss it," Gary said.

I shook my head. "This is a wildlife refuge, we can't litter."

Gary guffawed. "We just fucked our brains out in the woods and you're worried about littering? Whatever," he said, shaking his head, still chuckling as he started back down the hill toward the creek. I followed him, awkwardly trying to pull my clothes back on as we walked, still holding the tank top.

When we returned to the creek, instead of crossing back over the stones, Gary sat on a large rock at the edge of the water. He looked at me.

"Come sit. Or do you have to go? Leave that thing for a minute, would you," he said, eyeing the soiled clothing in my hand.

I dropped it on the bank and found a spot next to him on the rock. My lust was for the moment satisfied, but it still gave me a charge to be so close to his lean, shirtless body. The sun sparkled on the water. No one was in sight. After a moment, Gary draped one arm around my shoulder.

"Great day, huh?" he said.

"Yes, it is."

"How about having some dinner at my place?"

I hesitated. Gary's eyes narrowed. "Hubby's waiting, is that it?"

"Robert's out of town," I replied truthfully. Going home with Gary would be stepping over some invisible line that so far I had managed to avoid crossing.

"Then what's the matter? I'm not talking about Chinese take-out, man. I really cook."

"No kidding?"

"Sure, I worked in the St. John's University cafeteria as head caterer for years. I can cook for five hundred, no sweat."

"What do you do now?"

"Build things. Construction. I'm an independent contractor."

"Well, you look the part." A construction worker who could cook-he was a wet dream come to life.

Gary smiled and, leaning forward, kissed me lightly. "Thanks, man. What do you say? It's been months since I cooked for anyone but me."

I shrugged and crossed the line. "Okay, I'll follow you."

"Great! And," he said, his grin sharpening, "bring my top. I'll throw it in the wash while supper's on the stove."

Dinner that night in his tiny second-floor apartment was delicious. When we were finished eating, he led me to the couch, stripped me and himself, and took me again, slowly and playfully this time, until I was whimpering, begging for release. He chuckled at my cries when I finally blew my load. "Screamer, huh? I like that."

Afterward, he lay with his head on my chest, spent at last. I looked at one strong arm thrown across my body and noticed long white scars on the skin of the forearm. I ran my finger down the length of one. "What happened to you there?"

"Ex-lover came at me with a kitchen knife," he said sleepily.

I whistled. "When?"

"Oh, years ago. He was coked up one night and got mad when I came home too late."

"Well, I hope he got what he deserved for doing that to you."

Gary laughed mirthlessly. "You could say that. I pressed charges against Jack, got him sent up for five years, attempted murder. At the state pen some guys on his cellblock found out he was queer, cornered him in the shower and gang raped him. He hung himself in his cell soon after that."

I was silent with horror and also with embarrassment at the stupidity of my remark. "Gary, I'm sorry, I had no idea."

He looked at me with those piercing eyes. "It's tough out in the real world, professor."

We lay there in silence, but the comfortable feeling I had had a moment earlier was gone. After a moment I stirred. "I'd better go."

"I thought you said your lover was out of town," Gary said, letting me up unwillingly. "Aren't you spending the night?"

"I don't think so," I replied. The reality of the situation was starting to close in on me, like Gary's cramped apartment. I had taken advantage of my partner's absence to fuck around and go home with a man I hardly knew, someone with a violent past.

As if reading my mind, Gary said, "I'm not going to murder you in your sleep, guy. Just because someone took a knife to me once doesn't mean I'm a psycho." He smiled crookedly. "That's what I get for telling you about Jack."

"I asked, you told me," I said, pulling my clothes on. "It's not that, Gary. Listen--thanks for dinner, and--" I paused.

"The fuck?" Gary grinned. "Any time." I looked at him, still lying naked on his side on the couch, the cock that had impaled and conquered me hanging downward, heavy in repose. I drew in my breath.

"Could I--could I call you?"

"Like I said, man--any time. I'm in the book. Drive safe now."

I let myself out the door, got in my car and drove home to my dark and empty house. I removed my clothes, my own hands on my body reminding me at every instant of his hands. Lying on Robert's and my bed in the silent house, I saw his mischievous smile, his body taut with thrusting power. Finally I let my hands draw another climax from my body so that I could sleep.

How long did we last? It's hard to recall now. For months, perhaps a year or more, I showed up at his place whenever I could get away, which wasn't often. Robert never suspected, I'm sure-his elegant mind would have had serious trouble imagining such a situation. Driving to Gary's apartment after having carefully crafted a few empty evening hours in my schedule, I would sometimes shake my head myself at the absurdity of it all. I had always liked to fuck around-a fact that had resulted in some painful quarrels with my partner before we struck an uneasy truce--but this consuming physical hunger for one man amazed and scared me. At the same time, it allowed me to keep the thing between us safely boxed up in my mind, to tell myself it was all just chemistry.

I know now that I underestimated Gary. Because of his wit, his ability to skewer my pretensions, his willingness to laugh at my expense, I made the mistake of supposing he took us lightly too. I still regret that.

He began to complain about how little he saw me. "I know I can't call you at home, man, but can't you call back when I call your office?"

"It's a busy time, Gary." This was true. I was up for a promotion and I was really gunning for it. I would be the youngest full professor at the university. I tried to explain to Gary what was involved, but he brushed the complexities of the issue aside.

"What's a `full' professor, anyway... aren't you one already? You're good at what you'll do, you'll get it," he said. As the day I would find out drew nearer, I grew more and more nervous. Gary's observations irritated rather than soothed me. He sensed this, of course, and was hurt by it. His ability to see through me didn't help my equilibrium. "You don't want the money," he said one Saturday when I had finally managed to get away after more than month without seeing him. "It's an ego thing for you--you just want to be the youngest full whatever. It's just like my job. It is," he insisted as he saw me shake my head. "Sure, it bugs me that I'm assistant superintendent on the site and the real super is a twenty-four year old kid. You hear me moaning and bitching about it?"

"It's not the same, Gary," I said. "That's not the only reason I want the promotion. Let's drop it, it's too complicated."

"I know you think I'm a stupid hick, Tom. Maybe you're right, I don't know much. You don't have to rub it in. Fuck you," Gary said with sudden bitterness. "Don't come around if all you're going to do is put me down."

"Oh, Christ, why do you have to blow everything up? Look, maybe today just isn't a good day," I said, getting up from the couch.

"Yeah," he said, "Go back to your lover, you ought to be with him anyway."

"Okay, that does it," I said, walking toward the door. "I can't deal with this today."

"Drive safe now," he said sarcastically. It was what he always said to me when I left, ever since that first time. Stung into anger, I walked out without a word, and stayed away for six months. Gary was as proud and stubborn a cuss as I was. During those months, he never called--or at any rate, never left a message. I guess in the end he won, since I was the one who broke down and made contact first.

So here we were. "Can I come by?" I said into the receiver. A long pause, then a sigh. "Why the hell not."

A few days later, after my last class was over, I parked my car in the lot of his apartment complex and walked up the flight of stairs to his door. The nondescript gray paint on it was peeling. I rapped the knocker, feeling the familiar nervousness at the thought of his eyes scrutinizing me. I had on my usual work clothes: a blue oxford shirt crisply pressed gray wool slacks, a necktie. On one of my visits, he had said, "I like seeing you dressed up."

I had been pleased at the unexpected compliment, but, unable to leave well enough alone, had tried to tease him. "Why's that? Remind you of those married guys who service you?"

"Nope. I like it `cause I know what's underneath when I get those clothes off. Tom the professor turns into Tom the slut." He had laughed then, knowing that he had gotten me yet again.

The door opened and there he was. "Hey," I said, trying to sound casual. Gary didn't reply, but turned and walked back into the apartment, leaving the door open. I followed him inside into the cool semidarkness, shutting it behind me.

He turned to face me again and I braced myself, anticipating his temper. Instead, without a word, he caught me suddenly in a fierce embrace. Touched, I hugged him back. Just as abruptly he let me go, but kept hold of my hand and led me into the small living room. He sat on the couch and pulled me toward him, enfolding me in his arms again. We lay there for a few moments. His hard body felt good next to mine.

I spoke against his ear. "Why so affectionate?"

He snorted with disgust, grabbed my head and lifted it so that I was gazing into his eyes. The steel in them had returned. "I can't act like I'm glad to see you?"