Boy Story: The Road Taken - 61. An Unexpected Offer

An Unexpected Offer

When I graduated, I thought a college degree would open doors to many opportunities in the working world. Not so. Unless your undergraduate degree is from MIT, Harvard, Yale, Oxford, Princeton, et. al., you become one of the thousands of recent ho hum college graduates all looking for entry level work. The country club where I had seasonal employment didn’t care if you had a degree. They were interested in you showing up on time each day and that you were a hard worker and did good work…and that you were not a jerk. Believe me, there are a lot of people out there (guys mostly) who are jerks and don’t even realize it. As a result, employees who couldn’t arrive on time, constantly complained, sat around, and were abrasive head cases were either let go or were not hired back in the future. Fortunately, I knew that if I gave them maximum effort and was pleasant, it would benefit me in the end. However, I didn’t expect how it would pay off. Let me explain…

My college friend Chris, who originally got me the summer job at the country club, had graduated the year before me and was hired full-time for the position of Assistant Groundskeeper while I was back at school. This would benefit me when the summer jobs became available, and Chris would automatically put me at the top of the list. Then Chris got lucky because the Groundskeeper, who was in his 70s, suddenly decided to retire at the end of the next season. I think it was the previous winter when we were slammed with snow that put the idea in the elder Groundskeeper's head that moving to a warmer climate would surely beat shoveling snow for another winter. Since Chris worked closely with the Groundskeeper, he was next in line to take over. I secretly envied Chris because he was simply in the right place at the right time and showed the right amount of initiative. Now he wouldn’t have to struggle to find a decent job with the rest of us.

Chris had a communications degree, so his major had nothing to do with his job—maybe civil engineering or even botany would seem more appropriate—but communications, not so much. However, the country club gig was a good-paying job and was better than just about anything a recent graduate could expect to get with a communications degree. Chris had spent a full-year and a couple of summers working and learning under the Groundskeeper, so he was primed.

Of course, that didn’t help me much. I vividly recall the second day I was back at the country club for the final summer. I was tasked with walking each of the 18 fairways and marking down on a map the areas that needed to be reseeded. This was an entire day on my feet and was a task that none of the other summer help could be entrusted with. When I got home and Parker saw me hobbling around the house, he had me sit on the couch and he carefully removed my shoes and socks. Then for the next 30 minutes or so, he massaged my feet with hand cream. It felt incredibly good, but I told him that he wasn’t obligated to do that. He insisted, saying he loved rubbing my feet as much as I liked getting them rubbed. (Of course he did! I have nice feet!) He often knew exactly what I needed before I did. I can’t imagine anyone I’d ever known taking pity on me and massaging my feet after a particularly hard day at work. Parker, however, was a cut above the rest. While he was rubbing my feet, he began:

“Hey, Matt…”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think I act gay?”

“Whaddya mean? Who said that?” I asked back.

“You know David—Jenny’s boyfriend with the hot ass?”

“Ha ha, yeah…” (I think David will forever be remembered by us as “David with the hot ass.”)

“Jenny revealed to him that I was gay. And he said ‘Yeah that figures.’ What do you think he meant by that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe if Jenny said you were straight, he would have said that figures as well.”

“But do you think I act gay?” he asked again.

“Not especially. But if I didn’t know you and someone told me you were gay, it wouldn’t shock me. Maybe that’s what David was saying.”

“Do I seem effeminate to you?”

“No, not effeminate. Maybe like…metrosexual…where you could be either straight or gay without raising any eyebrows.”

“But not effeminate, right?”

“Cute, yes. Effeminate, no. Remember that guy at Disney when we were getting lunch?”

“Oh yeah!”

“You felt bad for him because he was SO effeminate. Compared to him, you are a straight guy who loves to suck cock.”

“Ha ha ha.”

“But I am glad you are gay so I can have you…and you enjoy it,” I needled him.

“Ha ha. Are you trying to turn me on?”

“Maybe, but finish with my feet first, OK?”

“Right, and then you can repay me.”

“Ha ha, sure…for a job well done.”

Also in the news, Parker acquired a job (of sorts) for the summer. Barbara was still employed at the record shop, and one of their biggest problems over the warmer months was coverage when employees took a summer vacation (or holiday as some would say). It was incumbent upon the remaining staff to pick up the extra hours to provide coverage. This wasn’t always possible. Barbara had the idea to hire someone—Parker—to be on call for days when they needed help in covering for someone. He didn’t want to work during the school year, but he was happy to work as needed throughout the summer.

Since most of their employees took days off in the summer, Parker was kept working at least one day almost every week. This gave me a bit of a break after a particularly grueling day of work and coming home to an energetic, horny teenage boy who had been cooped up all day. I'd collapse and be napping on the recliner and suddenly would be mounted by an aroused, naked...well, Parker. I'd be winding down while he was winding up. Fortunately, I didn't arrive home completely exhausted too many times, and Parker gave me a pass on the one time I fell asleep mid blowjob. I made up for it later on that night.

One day around that time, I came home from work and Parker immediately met me inside the door.

“Oh, you have to hear this…Barbara is getting married!” he exclaimed.

“What? Are you serious?”

“It must be true since I'm invited to her wedding!” he continued.

“No way!”

“I can’t believe it either,” he replied.

“Who’s the lucky…um, victim?”

“Ha ha. Some guy from Rocky Horror.”

“Huh?”

“She’s been performing in the Rocky Horror Picture Show every Saturday night at midnight during the summer at the art cinema over near the Holiday Inn.”

“How come I didn’t hear about that?”

“Probably because you don’t work at the mall anymore. You are off Barbara’s radar and you are better off for it.”

“Ha ha. Oh, I see.”

“Yeah, I’ve already seen it twice. She took me once before she was in it and another time when she was in it.”

“What do they do?”

“The movie is played on the screen and acted out live in the theater simultaneously by mostly high-school or college-aged actors.”

“Any good?”

“Eh, it isn’t bad. So she met this guy in the theater group that she’s now part of. The guy is 18.”

“And she’s…”

“Twenty.”

“Oh, God no — a teenager and marriage? It has train wreck written all over it!” I squawked.

“Everyone’s been trying to tell her that in a nice way. But she so wants to be married that she’s not thinking rationally,” Parker explained.

“He’s what…a senior in high school? And he asked her to marry him?” I asked.

“No, it’s more like she asked him…and he said ‘Yes.’ Meanwhile she’s been giving him mucho sex.”

“Damn, the boy is thinking with the small head. What have the parents said?” I asked.

“I don’t know, man. She claims that they are all supportive of it. She even bought the dress and sent out invitations!”

“Holy s—!”

“But remember, it’s Barbara, Queen of Train Wrecks,” Parker replied.

In the days to come, it became evident that the boy hadn’t told his parents that he was getting married. He just kept going along with whatever Barbara said so he would keep getting sex. Meanwhile, Barbara was making all of the arrangements with her family. Then, with the date of nuptial bliss bearing down on them, the boy was finally forced to inform his parents. Although the boy was 18, and therefore legally an adult, his parents talked some sense into him, which I’m sure wasn’t too difficult based on the absurdity of the situation. The parents had never even met Barbara, despite the fact that their son was poking her on a regular basis.

About a week later, Parker had an update. I was lying on the bed and he sat down next to me to deliver the latest news. “Finally the boy’s parents, Barbara’s parents, the boy, and Barbara had a meeting to discuss the state of affairs.”

“Really? What happened?” I asked.

“The wedding was called off!” he stated.

“NO!”

“YES!!”

“Damn! So the invitations, the dress, the function room reservation, the cake, and everything else?”

“Cancelled! But she was forced to keep the non-returnable dress and there were probably lost deposits for pulling out so close to the date chosen,” Parker explained. "Of course, Barbara was the only one who still thought it was a sound idea after the meeting. She was devastated!"

“Ugh, another train wreck,” I declared. “I feel bad for her parents.”

As the summer was drawing to a close, my days working at the country club, which was only seasonal employment, would be over. I was planning on visiting some job agencies in the area when I became unemployed. There were a lot of customer service phone jobs with insurance companies in the area. They all pay crap, but better than retail or fast food positions…plus you're not on your feet most of the day.

As I was assessing my next move during the last days at the country club, Chris found me out on the 14th fairway as he was driving around in a golf cart. He was coming by to deliver some bags of sand to add to the sand traps.

“Looks really good,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, it took a while for the grass to come up, but once it did, it filled in nicely,” I replied.

After unloading the sand bags, Chris made some small talk, “So, Matt, what plans do you have after the season?”

“I don't know. I guess I’m going to look for a permanent job, why?”

“May I make a suggestion?” Chris asked.

“Sure!”

“Well, when I move into the Groundskeeper position in the fall, the Assistant Groundskeeper position will need to be filled…with someone…who has some experience…who is dependable…and is an asset to the organization,” he hinted.

“You mean someone like…me?” I asked hoping I heard him right.

“Well, you were the first person who came to mind,” he informed me.

“Is it full time, year round employment?” I queried.

“Yup, it’s my current position. You interested?”

He said that he already spoke to the General Manager, who was a fan of my professionalism and work ethic. The General Manager thought it was a great idea, but he asked, "Do you think he'd be interested in full time?"

“So what do you think?” Chris offered.

“Really? Wow, I definitely, um…I’ll consider it.” I told him I needed 24 hours to think about it. This position paid much more than any position I had a reasonable chance of being hired for after college commencement. But I still wanted 24 hours for three reasons: I didn’t want to seem desperate, I needed to ask Ginny about living there long-term, and I needed to inform my parents.

Later that night at dinner, the three of us ate together because Ginny had the day off. I waited for the right moment.

“An interesting thing happened to me at work today?”

“Yeah? What was that?” Parker asked.

“I found out the Groundskeeper has decided to retire at the end of the summer. He is in his 70s, so it’s not like it was completely out of the blue. Chris has been offered that job...but then the job he has now will be open. He asked me if I was interested in the Assistant Groundskeeper position…and it pays well.”

“Oh, that’s great Matthew! As long as it pays well and you enjoy it, there’s nothing wrong with that,” Ginny said.

“Well, there’s only one problem. I’ll need a place to live nearby…like permanently,” I confessed.

“Really? Mom, can he?”

“I don’t see why not? Things have worked well so far,” Ginny decided. "And it's not like we don't have the space."

“Oh, wow! This is great!” Parker enthused.

“Wow, thanks. I’m so grateful, Ginny. If you want, we can keep the summer arrangement in place…or I can pay more because I’ll be working full-time,” I offered.

“We'll keep the current deal in place as long as you continue cleaning the pool and cutting the lawn when it needs it…and looking after things when I’m not around…” she said looking over at Parker.

“Yeah, of course,” I said knowing no one is better at looking after Parker.

“And that will include your food, too,” she added.

“Oh really, th-that’s great!” I stammered not expecting such generosity.

“Done!” she ruled.

“ALRIGHT!” Parker cheered giving me a quick hug of victory.

I was thrilled to go into work the next day and tell Chris I would accept the position. He was pleased as well. He knew that he’d have a strong ally and a hard worker as his right-hand man. He brought me in to officially meet the General Manager and announced the good news. The GM seemed delighted that I had decided to join the full-time staff. And he was pleased to be getting someone with a college degree, even if it was a degree in English.

The General Manager joked, "Gee, in just a few short months, the grounds crew management went from being blue collar to white collar!"

Since I had always worked only until school started again, I wasn’t aware of the aspects of the job that take place every fall, winter, and spring. There were a lot of new procedures to learn, including plowing snow in the winter with the truck. Since the golf course itself is closed in the colder months, the focus of the country club turns toward functions (weddings, Xmas parties, and other special events) in the Great Hall during the rest of the year. Keeping the access road and parking lot plowed after snow fall was to be a priority even if I had to come in the middle of the night to do it. I figured it would only really be three months, and most years we didn't get a lot of snow, so the inconvenience would only be occasional.

Parker also made a momentous decision of his own. Since I would be living at the house and he had his own car now, he chose to become a commuter student in his Junior and Senior years. He would no longer live on campus. He would live at home with me and his mom, and he’d drive to campus every day school was in session. This would save significantly on living expenses. In many colleges and universities, the money laid out for room and board is higher than the tuition. And his decision also kept us together, especially in bed at night when the tiger was out.

“Remember my friend Connor?”

“Of course.”

“Well, he and Ryan are still together and they went to Paris for a week during the summer?”

“Wow, really?”

“Yeah, I guess Ryan is from a wealthy family, so he basically covered most of the cost,” Parker explained.

“Really? Hmm, looks like I picked the wrong boy?”

“Hey, watch it pal or I’ll put a muzzle on you!” Parker joked.

“So it’s getting serious between them?” I asked.

“Serious enough to go to Paris together, I guess. Connor is quickly becoming an expert bottom.”

I visualized Ryan from the swim team screwing cute little Connor’s butt.

“So when do WE go to Paris?” he queried snapping me from my thoughts.

“Huh? I didn’t know you wanted to go to Paris,” I tried.

“Well, doesn’t everyone want to go to Paris at least once? You know, it is the city of love and all.”

“I thought it was called the city of light,” I countered.

“Hmm, I think it's called both,” Parker supposed.

“Well, start saving up now and maybe we can go someday,” I suggested.

“With what I make…or don’t make…that will take an awfully long time,” he informed me.

“That can be easily changed.”

“Are you suggesting I get a job?”

“Only if you want to go to Paris,” I replied. “I’m not a wealthy boy like Ryan, but I could maybe pay for your airline ticket.”

“So let’s go then!”

“Hold on there, small fry. We’d need more money for food and hotels and admission to places once we get there,” I informed him.

“Hmm, I need to make some more money quick. Maybe I could do gay porn,” he said quietly as if he was actually contemplating it.

“I don’t think that’s the answer,” I said.

“Why not? Some of those twinks make damn good money very quickly. Don’t you think I’d be good at it?”

“I’d be afraid you’d be too good at it. If I hadn’t met you and I was searching for porn, and you came up on my computer screen, it would be a messy few minutes.”

“Oh, so you think I should do it?”

“No, of course not! Parker, although you’d have money in your pocket in the short term, the movies they make are the studio’s property forever. Something like that can follow you around for a lifetime. You’d go around in life not knowing when you were recognized…and it may be in a really embarrassing place…like in front of your relatives…or in a job interview…or a dentist’s office. Or you’d be at a restaurant and a fat creepy guy is staring at you and you wouldn’t know if it’s because of the movies or not.”

“Ah, I see your point.”

“And I wouldn’t want to share you with anyone else. That would be difficult,” I imagined.

“Oh well, so much for my short-lived gay porn career,” he lamented.

“The only porn I want you to be in is at home with me.”

“What about sharing me with Nathan?” he joked. We had a running gag where we would often invoke the name of Nathan out of the blue because he was the only other boy we both had sex with.

“Nathan?” I questioned.

“I figure he’s grandfathered in because it was from before we were pre-engaged,” he posited.

“OK, fine. If Nathan’s ever in the area, he’s invited to join us,” I declared.

My mind immediately went back to the memory of having been screwed by multiple boys. That gave me an instant boner. I looked down and yup there was no hiding this one. Parker noticed me looking down and followed my stare.

“Wow, someone’s horny,” he remarked.

“Sorry, it has a mind of its own today.”

“There’s no need to be sorry.” He went for the shorts I was wearing and he had them and my underwear at my feet in seconds. He started playing with my hard cock. “Nice. It’s so big and hot. I love your cock!”

He went down on me and in minutes he had me bucking and vibrating as I unburdened myself into his mouth. He enthusiastically took it all. He popped back up to express his satisfaction. “Ahhhh, so good.” He looked over at the clock which showed it was quarter after five. “So that’s why they call it happy hour!”

“And you've had your COCK-tail,” I added.

“What if I'm in need of a refill?” he joked.

“I think the bartender is on break.”

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