One Hot Summer Day

"My daddy was a great man..." my cousin Billy choked. He paused, trembling as he tried to pull it together. I stood up beside him for support. He turned toward me with a pleading look.

"Uh.." I said, gliding up to the podium. "Uncle Burt was indeed a great man. Shoot - he saved my hind-end more times than I can count, and he was there for everybody who knew him - his kids, us nieces and nephews, everybody..."

I stopped, trying to find a memory of Burt to share.

"Billy, uh, you remember that one summer where we did all that work at the Hillside?"

He nodded as he blotted his eyes.

"Burt really came through me that summer - giving me work that I know my daddy - God rest his soul - didn't want me to do. But Burt was like that. Always a helping hand. We can, uh, all mourn losing a good friend and family member today but Heaven at least has somebody who can install a damn sink right."

I walked off as a light applause ran through the room.

More relatives, old coworkers and drinking buddies paraded at the podium. All about how Burt did this good deed here and there. The man was great no doubt, and I even felt the tears well in my eyes as his ex-wife even talked about how great he had been.

The service gave way to a reception, and we all dispersed from there. I drove home quietly in the dark, remembering that one summer and one particular day I will never forget. But that's a story I couldn't tell at a funeral if you catch my meaning.

It must have been the summer of '82 or so. I would have been 23 or 24 and in the prime of my youth from many days spent on farms and manual labor. There wasn't much work around then, so me and every other lone cowboy in the area not working for a factory or their daddy was just scraping by. I was tall, blond and toned from all that work, and my skin was a rich tanned color. And I found my way around with the ladies but I didn't have two nickels to rub together, so I wasn't really the dating or marrying type.

I think I was doing some farm work before Burt called me up. My daddy and he used to buy, fix run and run some motels in and around the area with the family doing a lot of the work, like the office and some handyman work. I had worked with them off and on, but my daddy was a bullheaded as they came, and we got into enough fights that I just stopped working with him.

I won't ever forget Burt's voice on this call. "Tommy, son, I need you. Just bought the old Hillside, and the place is for shit."

We went back and forth about work and time and that lot. Burt mostly needed me to fix up the in-room AC units as it turned out, which was something I had some training in.

"You know my condition," I said to him, trailing off.

"Your daddy has promised to stay far away until you're done," Burt said.

We agreed to meet the next morning at the place and walk it before I agreed to anything.

I knew some stuff about the Hillside. It used to be the kind of spot kids would talk about - a shady motel hidden slightly off the beaten path that catered to drifters, truckers and teenagers who wanted to party in a place nobody gave a shit about. It probably had stains that paint couldn't cover, but I figured work was work.

I pulled down the driveway of the place the next day around 10 a.m. Something about the early summer Texas sun made it seem nicer than it probably was. The motel has four one-story buildings, each painted white with black doors and window frames. The one closest to me looked like it might be decent, but I could tell almost immediately that plastic bags were covering the windows on some of the rooms toward the back.

I walked around a few minutes or so before Burt came roaring in in his Ford pickup. He pulled up alongside me, "Not that bad, huh?"

I nodded, and he pulled next to me and stepped out.

Burt was always a tank of a guy, but especially back then. He stood easily at 6'3" and was built sturdy as they come. He had dark blue eyes, light brown hair and a thick cowboy mustache all topped with a white cowboy hat.

His massive hand shook mine. "Good seeing you, son," he said. He called all of us kids "son" - just part of his way.

We walked along the first building, which he explained was partially rented to some day laborers.

"Them rooms ain't great but they're serviceable," he said.

He opened the first non-rented room and walked me around. The Hillside must have been built as one of the first motels with the normal bedroom and bathroom areas but no closets. Instead, the builder took the little nook of space not occupied by the bathroom in the corner of the room and ran a curtain rod over the length. A floor-length curtain was then used to create a little area to put your luggage or whatever shit you had. It was cheap, but it must have worked fine.

We took a look at the AC in the first room, which was ancient. I sighed but figured it was simple enough, and I could probably get her humming her. Burt explained the gameplan for fixing the place up, including bringing in painters, carpenters, carpet guys and Billy to work on the electric. He then asked how long I thought I needed.

I guessed about a month depending, and he just nodded and told me his expectations and rate of pay. Of course, it was the same as always - in at 8, out by 5. Half an hour for lunch. No smoking in the rooms and don't use an ounce of electricity more than needed. Burt was a better man than my dad, but he was just as cheap. But it was what it was, and I agreed.

"Start wherever you like," he said as we exited the room, "We'll do the current rooms after them boys split." He then handed me a master key and drove off.

To be honest, once I was working on the units, I saw most of them were in decent shape. Maybe some freon, filter changes and light mechanical fixes. When I got into building three though, everything was a mess, and I went from doing three or four units a day to one at most. To make matters worse, other contractors started showing up, and most of them needed me out before they could work.

The plumbers were the ones really right behind me. Burt had hired two independent guys - Buck and Tommy. Buck was a fixture in town, and he could crank out work. Tommy though was younger though and kind of new to this kind of work. He was maybe a year or two older than me, and once we got talking, I realized I probably played baseball against him back in high school. He was a hair shorter than me - maybe 5'8" and lean with dirty blonde hair. He had next to no hair on his face, which meant that Buck teased him mercilessly. Tommy complained a lot that Buck got easier work, but it was hard not to see how slow Tommy was going.

For the first week or so, the weather held out. But one day, the Texas summer heat oozed into town. The air around the Hillside was stagnant and, aside from the swampy haze in the air, you'd have thought you were in hell. I did my easiest repair first, but around 10, the sweat was pouring off me. That's when I gave thought to kicking the AC on it one of the now-vacant rooms in Building 1.

Now, this was strictly against Burt's rules, but I didn't really care given how bad it was. I checked my watch and decided to see if I could pull it off for a few hours at 11.

When 11 came, I peeked out of the room I was in to see just Tommy's truck in the lot by Building 2. I causally walked over and let myself into Room 104, which was still slightly cool from the lodger who stayed the night before. It was messy since there was no cleaning crew. I quickly closed the blinds, flipped the AC unit back on, turning a desk lamp on its lowest setting and snuck back out into the lot. I figured if anybody asked, we could blame the lodger.

My original plan was not to say anything, but Tommy spotted and waived me down.

"Hot one, huh?" he asked. He was just as drenched as me but in a tight gray sleeveless shirt and painters pants. Splotches of white paint were all over him.

"Yup," I said. I made a sly face and looked around. "Don't tell anybody, but I flipped the AC on it Unit 104 in case you get hot."

Tommy smiled. "Oh, well, thanks for the tip."

I nodded and walked back to my work. I remember thinking I would go to the room and have lunch at noon but when I checked things out, I saw Burt had parked by the office. I sighed and busied myself until about 1, when I checked again. The coast was clear.

I walked back into the blazing heat, carefully checking all my angles to make sure Burt really wasn't there. But, there was no sign of his truck. The office lights were off. I made a direct line right to 104, opening the door quickly but quietly and then returning it to closed.

The cool air rushed over me. I went right for the unit, flinging my shirt off and letting the forced air rush over me. The sweat dried up almost instantly, and I sighed in relief. As soon as I felt cool enough, I stepped backward and sat on the bed. I didn't care that it was dirty. It was enough just to sit in air conditioning and enjoy the cool feeling.

I laid back and let my legs spread as I did, letting the cool air slowly creep all over me. I don't know how long I was there - five or maybe ten minutes at most. Then, I heard the sound of work boots on the wooden porch deck on Building 1. I thought it might be Tommy, but I wasn't going to take any chances. I darted up, grabbing my shirt and hiding behind the curtain in the room. I left a little crack open so I could see who was coming in. I figured if it was Tommy, he'd just laugh this off. If it was Burt, well, I'd just wait him out and sneak back to work.

The door creaked open, and Tommy sheepishly peeked in. He quickly pushed the door open as I tossed my shirt back on, getting ready to jump out and scare him. But, just as I got the shirt over my head, I heard a distinct "HEY!" in the distance.

I froze. I knew exactly what Burt sounded like, especially when pissed. My heart beat raced. I slid back slightly, hoping Burt would just lay into Tommy and move on, giving me time to get out.

The sound of boots on the decking sounded again.

"Now just what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Burt demanded. I pushed myself as far into the corner as possible, hoping to ride this out without being caught.

"Oh, hey, Burt," Tommy said, "I was just coming in to turn the AC off."

"Bullshit," Burt shouted, "Get in there!"

The sound of Tommy shuffling in and Burt stomping behind him sounded. I pushed myself as hard as I could against the wall, waiting for the storm to start.

Burt sighed hard through his nose. "So, you were coming to turn it off?"

"Yeah," Tommy replied, almost sarcastically.

"I think you're full of shit..." Burt said sternly, "And you're lucky to even have a job here in the first place. You're putting me in a real bad position, son..."

"Burt, this ain't my fault..." Tommy started.

"Shut up," Burt said firmly. He sighed again, "You'll be fully a week behind Buck by tomorrow and he ain't even workin' today. What you got to say about that?"

"Buck's got all the easy work," Tommy said.

"You gonna keep lyin' to me, boy?" Burt growled.

"I ain't lyin', Burt..." Tommy started to protest.

"Shut the fuck up, boy," Burt said again.

I was firmly frozen in place, trying as hard as possible to breath quietly. I knew Burt was close to firing Tommy - I didn't want my head on the chopping block with him.

"I gave you a shot. You fucked up. And now I catch you slacking off in this room, abusing what little trust I still had in you," Burt stopped, letting the silence hang in the air. "I ought to fire you right here and give your work to Buck."

"Jimmy turned the unit on," Tommy shot back.

"Bullshit," Burt replied, "He knows better. He knows I'd tan his hide."

"Where is he?" Tommy asked. I gasped and froze again, convinced I gave myself up. The silence hung in the air but no movement followed. The AC unit was still on full blast and probably loud enough to cover up the gasp.

"He ain't in here," Burt replied, "That's for sure."

For the first time since this began, I couldn't feel my heart beat in my head. I'd still be able to sneak out of here without being caught. Then I'd figure out how to get Tommy back for ratting me out.

"I ain't fucking you, Burt. I'm doing my best out here. I'm sorry if I pissed you off," Tommy said in a confident tone. He wasn't pleading, which surprised me.

Burt sighed again, and the AC hum was the only thing left in the room.

"You know, Tommy boy, I heard a rumor about you," Burt replied, sounded like a cat with a canary in its mouth.

"What's that?" Tommy asked.

"That you might be...a queer," Burt said. His voice was flat but forceful.

"Uh...Burt...I..." Tommy stuttered. Neither he or I were expecting that. I stood stunned at hearing Burt say it.

"I can overlook this and maybe let you work some extra hours, but....I need some convincing of your worth..." Burt said, slyly. You could hear the smirk on his face.

I expected Tommy to fight back. I thought there'd be a punch or some cussing, but just silence. Burt sighed again, and I heard the sound of cloth hitting the floor.

I worked up the courage, and quietly moved forward, peering out the small break in the curtains. In the dim light, Burt stood up facing toward me. His button down shirt has been tossed aside and he had a tight, white wifebeater on. Tommy slowed ran his hands down Burt's chest. His hands disappeared out of view as they moved south.

I didn't know why at the time but my cock sprang up instantly. I watched, half terrified and half fascinated.

Tommy slowly peeled Burt's wifebeater off, and even in the dim light, I found see Burt's thick, hairy chest. One pink nipple stood out in the forest of brown hair. The pale light skin of Tommy's back jumped out again that fur.

Tommy ran his hands down again, pausing at Burt's nipple before slowly clenching his fingers on it. It hardened almost immediately into a thick pencil eraser.

Tommy whispered something I couldn't make it.

"Worship me like a god," I thought I heard Burt reply.

Tommy's head moved down and quickly covered Burt's nipple. A moan escaped from Burt and he quickly grasped the back of Tommy's head.

I realized at that moment how hard my cock was pressing against my jeans. The urge to stroke pulsed inside me, though I pushed back against it. The scene in front of me was so wrong to me but so hot. I fought for only a few seconds before quietly unbuttoning.

When I looked up, Tommy was working Burt's other nipple as Burt's face contorted in pleasure. His hand slowly moved off Tommy and to his belt buckle. He then pushed Tommy back a bit and stood in front of the bed, kicking his boots off.

"Bolt the door," he growled as Tommy, who quickly did so.

Burt squatted back on the bed, pulling his socks off. He lifted his legs and Tommy then dutifully slid Burt's jeans off and tossed them aside. I could clearly see Tommy's hardon in his pants and the lusty look he had in his face. Everything in me knew he wanted to suck Burt.

I couldn't help it when I slowly pulled my junk out. Something about Burt commanding Tommy turned me on. I wrapped my hand around the base and slowly jacked off as Burt palmed over his hard cock, which was covered by his tight white underwear. He slowly massaged it, glancing down at his tent and then up at Tommy.

"You want this, faggot?" Burt asked, teasing him.

"Yes..." Tommy whined. The shimmer of spit shined as he licked his lips.

"Suck it," I thought, almost surprised at how turned on I was. Pre-cum covered my cock head, and I quietly rubbed it. Little sparks of pleasure flittered up my spine watching.

Burt stopped rubbing and peeled the layers of his underwear back, revealing the head. He slowly pushed it out, and I could have fainted. He was a thick seven or eight inches with a slightly wet mushroom head.

Tommy gasped in delight. Burt slowly jerked his cock dry as he watched Tommy.

"Call me sir when you're spoken to," Burt commanded quietly.

"Yes, sir."

He continued stroking, looking down at his rock hard cock and then back up at Tommy. "Do you want to suck this cock, faggot?"

"Yes, sir!" Tommy loudly whispered.

I spit into my hand and jacked, trying to control my speed to keep quiet but also enjoy. A magnetic-like pull kept my gaze on Burt's cock.

"Get on your knees."

Tommy obeyed, slowly getting down and placing his face inches from Burt's hard member.

Burt slowly leaned back, balancing and holding himself upright on his elbows. His neck craned up to keep direct eye contact with Tommy.

"Taste it," Burt said firmly but quietly.

Tommy brought himself forward, letting his tongue slip out and gave a quick lick over Burt's wet cockhead.

"Again, slower," Burt said.

Tommy pushed his tongue out and on the underside of Burt's cock. It slowly came up and over the head, forcefully enough for the cock to bounce when he was done.

"Mmm," Burt moaned. He bit his lip as he watched Tommy.

"You like the taste of my juice?" Burt asked.

Tommy nodded. "Yes, sir."

My body jolted as I watched the scene play out. My entire attention remained focused on Burt's gloriously big member, and I couldn't help but wonder about the taste, the heat of it, and how it would feel in my own hand. I gripped my own cock hard, imagining it was Burt's.

"Take it into your mouth," Burt said. I could only watch in awe as Tommy eagerly took it in, sucking down about halfway and come back up.

"Ohh. That's it. Keep going," Burt said, his mouth now open in pleasure. Little groans escaped it as Tommy slowly bobbed.

It continued like this for what felt like an eternity to me at the time. Burt moaned and growled off and on as Tommy worked him. However, after maybe a minute or two, Burt sat up, yanking Tommy back by his hair. He peered down, right into Tommy's eyes.

"Suck my nipple," he said sternly.

Tommy lunged forward and took Burt's right nipple. Burt shivered in pleasure but managed to spit out, "Take off that shirt. I don't want Jimmy seeing my jism all over you."

I jumped slightly at hearing my name and realizing how scandalous this was. My respectable uncle, a pillar in the community, was cheating on his wife with a man, forcing himself on him. Of course he didn't want me to know, let alone see. Little did he know. I felt myself grin at the pleasure of watching and knowing.

Tommy stood up quickly, shedding his shirt. He had a bare chest with a slight amount of hair running from his belly button into his painters pants. His swollen cock made a tent in his painters pants.

I watched in amazement as he stripped. Burt extended his arms back behind him and leaned back, sitting in a slightly reclined position. He clicked his tongue as he took in the sight of Tommy's naked body.

"You like stripping for me, boy?" Burt demanded.

"Yes, sir." Tommy nodded sheepishly.

"Good, good..." Burt said, licking his lips. "Show me that ass. Slowly."

Tommy turned around obediently.

"Yes, sir" he repeated as he tucked his thumbs into the waistband and slowly brought his pants down. His plump ass bounced as he tugged at the waist. He had no underwear, but I also wouldn't expect that given how hot it was that day.

I momentarily forgot myself again in my excitement, knocking the curtain with my hand. I froze as the curtain gently settled back in place. Fortunately, neither of them apparently noticed.

I heard a slap and spent a moment processing, before I realized Burt had spanked Tommy's ass.

"Mmm, nice and firm," Burt said.

I thought briefly about whether Burt would fuck Tommy - which I hadn't considered up until that point. I knew gay men did that, but I just hadn't really thought about how it worked. The sudden urge to see if t would happen forced me to look back.

When I peeked out of the curtains again, Tommy was getting back on his knees.