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    Tallguyct
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Connecticut River Boys - 8. A Chance Meeting

January 1970 - As David Carlson drove south on I-91, he struggled to see the highway through the heavy and blinding snow. He had left his home in Hanover, New Hampshire, at 2:00 and hoped to arrive at Trinity College in Hartford soon after 4:30. Being a Saturday afternoon, there would be no rush hour tie-ups to slow his journey in Springfield, Massachusetts, or Hartford. He had been on the road nearly two hours and was just approaching Brattleboro, Vermont. Usually, the travel from his home to Brattleboro was just over an hour. He was exhausted from the strain of driving in this weather: he was hungry and he needed to piss. Ordinarily, he would make a quick pit stop at the Burger King south of Brattleboro for coffee and a piss. At the rate he was moving, it would be another half-hour before he would arrive at the Burger King. He decided to exit the highway north of Brattleboro and take care of his needs. As he drove south on Route 5 parallel to the Connecticut River, he hit black ice and lost control of the car and crashed into a snowbank. Hopelessly stuck, he realized he would not be able to move. The thought of being stranded increased his need to piss. Luckily, there was no traffic in sight. He stood at the roadside, half hidden by the car and wrote ‘fuck’ in the snow with his yellow piss stream. Now that that problem was solved, what should he do about the car? Then he saw it.

Not too far in the distance, he saw a sign, GAS. While it was less than 1,000 feet (about 300 m), it seemed like miles as he walked along the sleet covered road. As he stepped into the gas station, a young man seated at the counter looked up. When the young man looked out the window and saw no car he asked, “Where did you come from?”

Noticing the name tag sewed on the shirt, David replied, “Hi, Craig.” He then explained his dilemma. Craig suggested they take the tow truck and check out the situation. Within ten minutes, Craig, accompanied by David, had towed the car back to the garage. As David’s body warmed, he realized he could not take his eyes off the handsome young man. Twice, Craig looked up and found David staring at him. Both times, Craig returned the stare followed by a blushing smile. After placing the car on the lift, Craig observed while the other mechanic examined the damage. As they checked out the car, David saw the book Craig had been reading laying on the counter. For some reason, he wanted to know more about this guy. He was surprised to see that Craig was reading the recently published Slaughterhouse Five, based on the bombing of Dresden near the end of World War II. The story had an anti-war theme.

Following a short consultation by the two mechanics Craig informed David, “My dad and I have checked it out and we have some really good news and somewhat bad news.” David looked into the eyes of this angelic man as he continued. “The broken part is inexpensive and easily replaced. It’s a five-minute job, so the labor will be almost nothing. That’s the good news. But we do not stock parts for ten-year-old Chevys. If we order the part now, it should arrive Monday morning.”

David replied, “Luckily I do not have to return to school before Wednesday. Can you suggest an inexpensive motel nearby where I could stay two nights?”

Craig’s father chuckled, “You’re from New Hampshire. You know what the lodging situation is on weekends during January. The only place you will find around here not rented by skiers is either extremely expensive or some fleabag dirty room. If you don’t mind, you are welcome to sleep on the sofa in our living room.”

As Craig’s and David’s eyes met, he replied, “That would be great. I will try not to be an imposition.”

Dad replied, “We’re closing in fifteen minutes. Take whatever you need from the car. Craig will drive you home in the tow truck. I would not be surprised if we have emergency calls tonight. We’ll have the truck at the house so they can be answered without delay.”

“As they drove home, David told Craig that he was in his third year at Trinity College in Hartford, majoring in Economics. When questioned about the book he was reading, Craig confessed that reading was his passion. “Some people may think I live in a world of fantasy, keeping my nose in a book to avoid real life.”

“Actually, I do not know what I want to do. At the age of twenty-five, I should have a goal. My father assumes I will take over the garage someday. Hopefully, he will accept the fact that I do not have either the desire or aptitude to be a mechanic. My sister’s boyfriend, Mike, works for us. He is a real mechanic. I hope that they get married and he becomes my father’s partner. Then I will be free. The big question is, ‘Free to do what’?”

As they entered the house, an attractive woman in her forties greeted them. “Charlie called and told me we were having a guest for the weekend. Welcome to our humble home.”

“Thank you. I will try not to intrude. Sleeping on the sofa will be a luxury compared to what I might find at the last minute during ski season.”

With a scowl she replied, “You will not sleep on our lumpy sofa. You may sleep in Craig’s bed.” At this suggestion, both boys felt a rush of excitement as each, for reasons neither understood, enjoyed the other’s company. She continued, “Since Melissa, our daughter, is at University of Vermont, Craig will sleep in her bed. I don’t think she would be happy having a strange man in her bed.” Both boys felt a sense of disappointment as well as relief that they would not be sharing a bed.

As the four enjoyed conversation and the Yankee pot roast served at dinner, the phone rang. Mother answered the phone and handed it to Craig. Following a short conversation, he announced there had been an accident on Route 9 just east of the I-91 exit ramp. Looking at David, he lamented, “Sorry, I have to go. I should be back in less than an hour.”

After Craig rushed out the door, David stated, “Well Mrs. Miller, I would like to help with the dishes to thank you for this delicious meal.”

“Well, thank you very much, David. You may help with one condition: Please call me Charlotte, not Mrs. Miller.” As David and Charlotte cleared the table, the father, Charlie, headed for the TV in the living room. As Charlotte washed dishes and David dried, she asked about his studies at Trinity College. When he told her he was taking an American Literature course her eyes lit up. “What books and authors will you be studying in your course? Do you have a reading list? Could you show it to me?”

David thought this was a strange question coming from the middle-aged wife of a small town auto mechanic. “I left the list in my car with most of my school work. I’ll show it to you later. I was hoping to get a good start on the first book on the list, Rabbit Run, prior to classes starting next week.”

Charlotte interrupted him. “Oh, John Updike is one of my favorite authors. Actually, one of my many favorite authors. I read Rabbit Run as soon as it was available. That was a long time ago, probably ten years. I remember, Craig was a sophomore in high school. He did a book report on it. I remember talking to his English teacher after he did the report. It had just been published and she had not seen it prior to her reading his report. She got a copy at the library. Later, she told me that she could not put the book on her suggested student reading list because of the adult theme and sexual discussions. Then, she assured me that Craig seemed to understand the themes and was mature beyond most of her students. I would like to discuss with you your thoughts on the book if you have time to read some of it prior to your leaving Monday.”

David was totally blown away by this conversation. Obviously, both Craig and his mother enjoyed reading astute material. When Craig returned from his tow run, the three shared apple pie sitting at the dining room table while Charlie had his in front of the TV. David had the feeling that the father did not share the love of books that his wife and Craig had.

After dessert, Craig took David up to his bedroom. When Craig got clean sheets for the bed, David protested, “Don’t change the sheets for me. You look like a clean guy. I won’t mind sleeping between your used sheets.” David did not understand why, but he did look forward to having his body touching the sheets that touched Craig. David noticed that the primary decoration in the room was filled bookcases. When David commented on the books, Craig confessed, “My one extravagance is books - some I buy, most I borrow from the library. My mother is a volunteer at the town library. She not only is one of the first to check out new books, she is also on the committee that selects books. We both read the Book Review Digest. Frequently, I give my mother recommendations to present to the committee. This pile of current best sellers (1969 – 1970) is what I am working on now. David was surprised at the range of books on the pile: Philip Ross’ Portnoy’s Complaint, Maya Angelou’s Autobiography – I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, The French Lieutenant’s Woman and The Godfather.

Craig then told David that he would be getting up at 5:00 to service some snow plowing customers. Without thinking, David blurted out, “Could I ride along with you as you plow? That sounds interesting.” Then he thought to himself, ‘Why did I say that? But, it will be nice spending time with him.’

“I’ll wake you up just before 5:00. If you are still in the mood, you are welcome to ride along.”

Five minutes later, Craig was in the shower. He took his dick in hand and, for reasons unknown to him, celebrated his new friendship with a mighty blast of cum down the drain.

Fifteen minutes later, David was in the shower. He took his dick in hand and, for reasons unknown to him, celebrated his new friendship with a mighty blast of cum down the drain.

As David rode with Craig in the snow plow, they continued their discussion of life in a small town compared to that at a college in a city. Twice they stopped for coffee. About thirty minutes after their second cup, Craig announced, “The coffee has gone through me - need to take care of an urgent need. As he stepped out of the truck, David joined him and the two made yellow designs in the snow, each carefully keeping their eyes straight ahead. The last area they plowed was the parking lot of the church Craig attended. “Church starts in fifteen minutes. You are welcome to join me or I could drive you home.”

“I would like to go with you, but I’m not properly dressed for church.”

Craig laughed, “We will blend right in. The only men who wear suits and ties are at least in their 60s.” That was the day that David learned that Craig did not care about what he wore. Forty years later, David would have similar thoughts when he chuckled to himself when Craig was in the hospital, as he thought of Craig’s chiding him for being a snob concerning clothes. This was one area where he and Craig differed: Craig never considered what he wore to be essential. When they attended a special event, David would select Craig’s wardrobe.

Following the final hymn, Craig whispered to David, “I noticed that Mary Lou Woods was giving you the ‘come-hither’ eye. Unless you want to be cornered by the most aggressive woman in Brattleboro, we better make a quick departure.” Mary Lou bulldozed through the exiting congregation to meet the handsome newcomer. “Oh, Hi Mary Lou. Meet my friend David from New Hampshire. He’s been helping me plow this morning. We’ve got to get going to plow out Widow Simmons. See you later.” As they departed, David could see the lust in Mary Lou’s eyes. He had never had a real girlfriend and was certainly not going to pursue an aggressive young woman in Brattleboro, no matter how attractive she was. As he heartily thanked Craig for the interception, he placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. This simple contact sent waves of tingling through both of their bodies. Craig then told him that Widow Simmons did not need to be plowed out.

On their way home from church, David retrieved his literature course reading list from his car. Following Sunday dinner, he and Craig helped Charlotte clean the kitchen while Charlie returned to the garage to work with Mike, the sister’s boyfriend. Charlotte and Craig had each read more than half the books on the list and wrote down the titles of those they had not read. Having been up since 5:00, David gladly accepted Craig’s suggestion that they go to his room and read. With Craig on his bed and David in a chair, each had a book in hand. David was startled as he heard a knock at the open door. Charlotte stood in the doorway. “Hey you two sleepyheads, supper is ready.” As Craig opened his eyes, both boys were surprised that they had fallen asleep.

Following a light supper of soup and sandwiches, Craig and David again helped in the kitchen. The three discussed Updike’s Rabbit Run. David had read one hundred pages prior to falling asleep and both Charlotte and Craig had read it years earlier. Then Craig suggested, “Most Sunday evenings I meet friends at the bowling alley. You are welcome to join us. You could either bowl or watch. Or, we could stay home. I only go if I have nothing better to do.”

“Sounds like fun. Let’s go.” While David had bowled, he was not the expert Craig was. Most of the guys and girls there came to get out of the house, not participate in serious competition. Mary Lou was there and managed to sit next to David. As he felt her hand caressing his knee under the table he wondered how it would feel to have Craig’s hand there. Luckily, it was his turn to bowl and he was able to get away. When he returned from his round, he found a seat opposite, not next to Mary Lou. Following his second beer, he excused himself. Within seconds of his entering the men’s room, Barry, one of the gang, was standing next to him at the urinal. Although there were four urinals and David had gone to the last one, Barry stood next to David in the otherwise empty room. As Barry stood back from the urinal while taking out his dick, David moved in to hide his. “So, what brings you to Brattleboro?” David could not miss Barry’s display as he stroked his now hard piece.

David quickly zipped up as he stated, “Just passing through. My car broke down and will be fixed in the morning and then I’m off.” Skipping washing his hands, David was out of the men’s room as fast as possible. Craig had noticed Barry following David into the men’s room. A month earlier, while Craig pissed, Barry had stroked his hard dick when standing next to him in the men’s room. Craig was relieved when he saw his friend hurry out of the bathroom with a concerned look on his face, not an expression of lust. Later, David could not forget the sight of Barry’s hard dick. It was implanted in his mind and he would use it as inspiration for future jerkoffs. But, not the jerkoff that night, as he again thought of his new friend while he shot into the shower drain.

By 10:00 Monday morning the car was repaired, the roads were clear and David was ready to depart. As they said their goodbyes, the two boys lingeringly shook hands. As the two gazed into each other’s eyes, Craig told David to stop by whenever he drove through and David replied that he would.

……………………………

A special thanks to my friend, pvtguy, for his thoughtful suggestions that clarify what I am attempting to say. Also, I thank him for his careful review with resulting edits that make it appear I have mastered the English language.

 

If you are enjoying this story, then please take the time to like, comment, and follow the story. Your feedback and comments are always welcome and help me develop the story

A special thanks to my friend, pvtguy, for his thoughtful suggestions that clarify what I am attempting to say. Also, I thank him for his careful review with resulting edits that make it appear I have mastered the English language.
If you are enjoying this story, then please take the time to like, comment, and follow the story. Your feedback and comments are always welcome and help me develop the story
Copyright © 2020 Tallguyct; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Bft

Posted (edited)

Poor David is accosted by Mary Lou and then Barry as he is fresh meat in town.

Sparks are definitely there between Craig and David.

Craig sounds like I used be about my choices before I met my husband, who has changed the way I think about what I am going to wear when I go out. 🌈❤️
The comment about Widow Simmons needing plowing could be taken in a sexual context 

Edited by Bft
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