The Saturday Boy - 4. Putting His Hands on Mine

Showers, the ones you get clean in, are great, aren't they? They refresh the mind, the body, and they get you clean and shiny. The shower was my sanctuary, a small place, warm, private and a place to escape the dirty outside world. Sometimes, I would stand in here for over thirty minutes, and no, it's not what you're thinking.

Well, maybe sometimes!

I stood washing, paying particular attention to my armpits, scrubbing vigorously before rinsing. I felt cleaner already, and I hadn't even started on my sweaty balls. Sorry I just had to mention that.

It was high time I masturbated but still had this bet with myself that I was determined to win. The trouble was, now that sore blister had gone entirely, it was making the mission a lot harder.

Finally scrubbed clean and my hair washed, I turned off the water and used my hands to drain my hairy legs of water. I stepped out and grabbed my favourite towel from the rail, loving the ultra-soft material on my skin.

I quickly dressed and headed back down, finding Jack homing in on every empty glass he laid his eyes on. I'll give him one thing; He was keen.

"Hey Jack, I'm back; how’s it been?"

"Yeah, not so bad. It’s just hard trying to weave in and out of people when you got glasses stacked up pretty high."

"Have you broken anything yet?" I asked, grinning.

"Not yet, but I will." He replied, smirking.

"So Jack, what I normally do around this time is take a walk down to the cellar and pull out all the empty barrels and get them ready for collection on Monday."

"Okay, so shall we do that then?"

"Sure, we have an office function tonight, so I may have to check Sunday as well, but let's see what we can pull out now."

I led him down the stairs to the cellar, passing my smiling mother as we went. I think she was pleased her hiring of Jack had gone down well, and yeah, I admit, the guy that sucked me off a year ago wasn't all that bad once you got to know him a little.

There were about nine barrels that needed pulling out, and Jack went to work straight away without me even having to pick them out for him. I watched as his muscular body made easy work of lifting them over the full barrels.

There were now gaps between the wall and the full caskets, but again I didn’t have to say anything as he started to shuffle them back up against the wall one by one. Then, becoming aware I was just watching him do it, I began helping out, and minutes later, it was all done.

"What's next," he said, wiping his brow of sweat.

"We need to roll all these to the basement doors. It's past the bottle room and on the left."

"No problem." He grabbed hold of a thirty six gallon barrel and turned it on its side, rolling it past me.

"Hey, slow down, or you'll give yourself a hernia."

"Well, the sooner we get this done, the sooner I can take you out for something to eat with my first paycheck."

"Uh, Jack."

"Hey, it's just something to eat in a cheap burger joint."

"No, it's not that…it's just I have to work the whole night, we are busy tonight with the office function and…."

"And?"

"I don't know, Jack, it's just a bit early to be doing things like socialising and stuff," I said, looking at the floor.

"You're not still hung up about the thing at school, are you?"

"Not hung up, no, but it just feels a bit weird you asking me to eat out with you when this is the first time we have seen each other since…since it happened, and besides two burgers in one day, I don't think I could stomach."

A sly smile formed on his face. "Suit yourself, but you're on my hit list Cork, I'm not used to being turned down."

"Yeah…uh, so some other time right, you know when we have got to know each other a bit more."

"Do you wanna know me, or just work with me?" he said, his expression changing to one of dejection.

"I dunno; why is it such a big deal to you anyway?"

"I guess it's not Joey. I just don't have a lot of friends, you know, because of who I am, or rather what I am. School is not exactly an inviting place if you're a bit different," he replied.

I suddenly felt sorry for him. Yeah, I felt sorry for Jack Stanton, the guy who had humiliated me in front of a girl I had the hots for. I also felt guilty… guilty because I went through a similar period in my life when I was fourteen. In year nine at school, I was a skinny short spotty nerd, whose mother used to cut his hair. The only friends I had were Dean and Shaun, the two people I had known since primary school. I've grown big since then, filled out, put on muscle, and my face has cleared up, oh and I now earn my own money to get my hair cut by a professional.

"Look, Jack, maybe next week, okay? Things won't be so hectic then."

"Whatever, Joey, don't feel you have to."

"I know I don't, but since you offered to pay, I think I will enjoy it," I said, smirking. He seemed to cheer up, and it made me feel a bit better.

"You can finish now if you like, I just have to bleach the floor, and then I'm calling it a night down here."

"I thought you had to work all night?" he remarked, slightly accusingly.

"I do, but I'll be helping upstairs," I replied

"Oh, okay."

"Let's go upstairs, and I'll get my Mum to sort some money out for you."

"Thanks a lot, Joey, and hey, I enjoyed today."

"As I said, come say that in a few weeks."

"As long as we're working together, I don't think I'll grow to hate it as you think."

"Well, maybe. Come on, let’s go, and you have a good weekend, okay.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had just turned one am when I crawled into bed, absolutely shattered. It had been as busy as expected, and the last customer didn't end up leaving until about twenty minutes ago. I was about to give it up for my dick before I went to sleep. Finally, I was done waiting, and I remember I promised myself I would beat myself stupid once the clock had passed twelve. The bet was won.

I pulled my 'special' magazine from under my pillow and started flicking through the pages. There was a blond chick in there I always settled on for the main event, but I always looked through the rest first, I suppose as my version of foreplay.

I got hard almost instantly, the tiredness not seeming to be connected to my sexual organs. Within minutes I was oozing pre-cum as I ran my finger up the rear of my cock, pushing the clear substance out, watching as it ran down the other side, wetting my pubic region.

I had a feeling this event was going to last mere seconds, so I took to work slowly and lightly, wanting to enjoy it for as long as I could. I turned to the page that always got me off, Sam, her name was, and started at the bottom. Eyeing her toes, my eyes lingered up her legs, long and smooth until I reached her sweet crutch, lashings of labia to feast on. I kept going up, up, up to her pendulous breasts, stopping for a moment to take them in. Then up again to her neck, before I stopped and snapped shut the magazine as my mind replaced her face with Jack Stanton's.

What the fuck is wrong with me?!

Before I had even realised, my cock had gone soft. Either by the shock of what I imagined or just shock itself. I hoped for the former, but I couldn't be sure. I closed my eyes, mind like you would on an etch-a-sketch.

Maybe having him work here was a bad idea after all. The Spanish guy, fine, I could deal with that. It was just some guy who fancied me, writing stupid notes. Dean's stories, well, he did tell them erotically, so it quite natural to feel slightly turned on, right? Even Jack, as he rested his hands on mine in the cellar, that could have just been a stupid moment of madness. But no, not when I was about to jerk off was it normal to see Jack Stanton's face in my head as I looked at a straight porn mag. No fucking way!

I felt…violated, and I know that sounds ridiculous, but it was how I felt. It was like the Harry Potter movie where Voldemort was probing Harry's mind if you ever saw the film. I know, now I do sound crazy.

I put the magazine back under my pillow, switched my lamp off and laid there in the dark, my eyes open. I wondered if it was hormones doing this because I was so sexually frustrated. I mean, it could just be a coincidence that I was seeing stuff in my mind and having strange feelings because I hadn't fucking jizzed for a week.

That was it; I rammed my hand down my boxers and rubbed it over my cock, making it come to attention moments later. This was going to have to be a good old fashioned imagination job. I wrapped my fingers around my swollen member and started jerking fast.

I almost didn't have time, but I managed to pull my pillow from under my head and bury it over my face as I let out a cry, spending myself all over my stomach, my hips arched high. Fuck, that was intense, I thought, as I dropped back onto my bed.

My cock slowly deflated and went to sleep, and after the day I had had, I remember not being far behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Fucking phone", I muttered, as it wined at me, waking me from a rather pleasant dream. I felt down on the floor and found it vibrating against my hand. Picking it up, I squinted at the screen. Dean!

"It's Sunday, and it's early. What?"

"I heard about you and the new boy," he said. I dived up in bed, my heart starting to race.

"wha…what, what do you mean."

"You and Jack gay boy Stanton," he squealed. "You sound jumpy."

"What about Jack Stanton and me, and I'm not jumpy, it's just…it's early, you woke me up. I replied hurriedly, not really sounding like someone who was trying to act sleepy.

"Now you just sound frantic; what’s up?"

"Nothing Dean, I'm fine. What about Jack and me? What are you on about?"

"Just that he's working with you, and he and you seem to be hitting it off." I felt myself relax, and my ass settle back on the bed.

"Oh, yeah, well, he's okay, I guess," I said, making it sound like I didn't care either way.

"Make sure you keep your back against the wall, Corky, or he'll have you when you least expect it."

"Dean, that's not very nice. Whatever you think of him, he's still a human being, and I get the feeling he gets enough hassle at school without you adding your opinion."

"Yeah, well, rather you than me, that's all I'm saying. So how are you? Did last night go okay?"

"Yeah, late night but got there in the end."

"Cool, so what are you up to? Wanna hang out?" he asked, his voice excited.

"I'll have to ask my parents, but after last night I can't see them saying no."

"Okay, Dude, well, I'll call Shaun and meet you at your place at ten."

"But Dean, I haven't even..." He hung up. "…asked yet." I finished anyway. I dropped my phone back on the floor and my head back on the pillow. I need another vacation!

"Fuck it," I hissed, ripping the duvet back and getting out of bed. I wandered into the bathroom for a piss before going downstairs. I approached the coffee machine, put a cup on the tray, and directed my finger to the extra strong Columbian with milk button and sat up at the bar. The machine buzzed and whirred away until I saw the last few drops come out. I pulled it from the drip tray and took a sip.

"I thought I heard you get up. Are you okay?" My Mum said, appearing from the restaurant.

"Yeah, Dean called and then I couldn't get back to sleep."

"He okay?"

"Uh-huh, he just wanted to know how Jack was doing," I said, taking another sip from my cup.

"Oh, so they know each other?"

"Not exactly; you know Jack is gay, right?"

"I had a feeling," My Mum said, putting on her thinking pose. "But it doesn't stand out, just a few things that made me think."

"A few things?" I replied, curious.

"Well, the way he looks at you tells me girls may not be on the radar." She said, chuckling.

"Oh, Mum!"

"Anyway, Joey, he's a nice boy."

I let out a nervous laugh. "What are you saying? I should hook up with him?"

"Don't be silly, Joey; I'm just saying he's a nice boy, that's all. Who said anything about hooking up?"

"Just the way you said ‘nice boy’, suggestively, I mean."

"Oh, don't be so paranoid. Whatever his orientation, it makes no odds, yours neither."

"Mum!"

"What, I'm just saying." She said, going to get her own coffee.

"I'm not gay, you know."

"Well, your Dad says…."

"Mum, it's always Dad that says, when it’s bad news," I said, cutting her off.

"If you'll let me finish, your Dad says he saw you and Jack in the cellar yesterday."

"Saw us doing what exactly; we weren't doing anything." I retorted, at the same time trying to think of what he may have seen.

There comes the point where you are so paranoid you start thinking stuff happened that never did. That's how I was beginning to feel, my Mum, staring at me, grinning. I was starting to see pictures in my head of events that never took place…With Jack!

"He just remarked he saw Jack and you getting cosy over a barrel." She burst out laughing. I was not impressed, not one bit.

"Uh, um…I…let me explain."

"I'm listening," She said, folding her arms smirking. This was parental abuse; she was actually enjoying me squirm.

"I was teaching him how to…."

"Teaching, uh-huh."

"How to move a thirty-six and…."

"Move a thirty-six, right."

"And I had the handles…."

"Handles, hmm."

"And he rested his hands on mine and…."

"And what? Please tell me because that's the point your Dad walked out, and do you know I had a go at him for that." She pleaded, putting her hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter.

"Why?" I asked, confused.

"Because it sounds like that’s the point things were about to get juicy."

"Mother, you are something else. I’m not listening to any more of this. Nothing is going on, and for Dad's information, if he had stayed, he would have seen that."

"Starry-eyed," your Dad said. "That's the way Jack was looking."

She was cracking up now, and I was mortified, my face as red as a beetroot. "Nothing happened. I like girls, okay?"

"Whatever you say."

She picked up her coffee and wandered back upstairs, leaving me trembling with embarrassment. Whatever my Dad saw, it would make for an uncomfortable conversation if he ever brought it up. I tried not to let it bother me; I was innocent. I had made it quite clear that whatever Jack's motives were, I wasn't interested. Besides, Jack had said himself there was nothing in it. I just couldn't believe that my Dad had to be there at that fucking moment.

I grabbed my cup and drank the last of my coffee, putting the empty cup in the glasswasher. Then, wandering upstairs, I met my Dad on the landing.

"Dad, nothing happened in the cellar, whatever you think you saw," I exclaimed, not being able to help myself.

"What? Oh, your mother is winding you up. I wasn't even going to say anything." He replied. I don't know who was more nervous in the silence that followed.

"I was just helping him move a barrel, that's all."

"Right, that's just what I thought." He smiled and walked past me. I got the feeling he was embarrassed that I had brought it up. Either that or he thought differently and didn't want to talk about it.

I walked to my parent's room and saw my Mum back in bed with her coffee. "Is it okay if I hang out with Dean today?" I asked as she switched on the TV.

"Sure, honey, just be sure the cellar is tidy before tomorrow's delivery. I don't care when you do it just as long as it's today."

"Yeah, I'll have a look, later on, don't worry."

"So what time are you meeting him," she asked while looking at the TV.

"Ten, he's coming here," I stated.

"Oh, right, what have you got planned?"

"You know as much as me, Mum, he didn't say. But, you know Dean, I'm sure he's thinking about it right now."

"Are you seeing Shaun as well?"

"Hmm, not sure, I haven't heard anything."

"Okay, well, have fun. I’m going to get an hour's sleep; make sure your father is okay before you go out if I'm not down."

"Yeah, okay, I'll see you later."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I waited in the pub garden for Dean. If he was going to be on time, which was unusual, he should arrive in around ten minutes. I leant back on one of the benches and soaked up the morning sun.

Summer. I loved this time of year, the warm days that allowed you to go out in just a T-shirt and shorts, and not a lot else. It was also the time to enjoy a break from school finally. I wished it also allowed me to take a break from the pub, but that was never gonna happen while I was under my parent's roof.

Shaun, Dean and I, had often talked about moving in together when we all left school and got jobs. None of us had any plans to go to University; we just didn't come from families that encouraged that. All our parents had left school at sixteen and got jobs, and they seemed to have turned out alright.

I'm sure it's the same for all other kids my age. Most had Saturday jobs to give them some pocket money, and as of yesterday, Jack Stanton had started one too. For me, though, I did a lot more hours than other people my age, and I wondered if I was missing out on the best years of my life. Soon there would come a time when I would have to get a full-time job, and I wanted to enjoy this time of my life and just be…sixteen. I often felt jealous of Shaun and Dean; they always seemed to be out doing stuff while I was stuck at the pub slaving away. I wondered if now that Jack was working there, I might be able to go out with them too eventually, once he was trained up and comfortable on his own.

My thoughts were interrupted as Dean came through the side gate to the pub garden. He was wearing a tight black vest and navy blue Nike shorts, complete with sneakers, the same brand and no socks as usual. His blotchy tan, if you can call it that had developed a little better... he looked well.

"Hey, shithead, what's up?"

"Nothing much, just enjoying the warm sun, makes a change from it pissing down," I said, getting up. "So, what's the plan, Dean?"

"Well, I called Shaun, and he's gonna come and meet us in a while. I thought we might go fishing."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Dean, we don't have any rods."

"We won't need them for the sort of fishing we're doing."

"Huh," I said, my forehead creasing. "Dean, what are…."

"Joey, it's a hot day, it's Sunday, and Delton Park will be filled to the brim with hot chicks."

"Sounds like fun," I said, for some reason Jack's Face appearing in my head, wondering if every girl I look at will have his face on her. I know, I probably sound like a mental case, but that's just the way I can explain it.

"You jerked off last like I gathered and won your bet?"

"How'd you know?" I asked grinning

"Oh, I dunno, you just look more chilled."

"I'm just glad I'm not being drafted into work today…but yeah, you’re right, I did. I thought I might need a bucket when I shot.

"Too much info Joey," Dean said, slapping his hand on his eyes.

"Well, who asks their best mate if they jerked off? I mean, honestly."

"Just wondering, I know you said to Shaun you were…abstaining due to a…."

"YES, I think we don't need to continue with this," I exclaimed, cringing.

Dean laughed. "Okay, so let's go; we’re gonna meet Shaun at the park. Have you got any condoms?"

"You don't really think you are going to pull anyone, do you, Dean, even by your optimism standards, that's stretching it a bit, and no, I don't have any."

"If I do, will you film it on your phone?" he winked. "I wanna put it on one of those tube sites." I rolled my eyes, but not entirely sure if he meant it. As much as the thought of a real live chick getting banged in front of me, I didn't think I would feel entirely comfortable seeing my best friend's cum face while he did it to her.

We left the pub garden and began walking to Delton Park. It was getting warmer, and I could feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead. We walked past the small lake that I used to visit when I was younger.

My thoughts immediately turned to my favourite summer activity, really wanting to strip off and jump in the cool lake. I loved swimming and was smiling with sudden excitement.

"I know what you're thinking, Joey, and we already have plans."

"But we could go after, right?" I said.

"As soon as I've fucked my brains out, we can do anything you want. Anyway, what's up with you? I thought you would be more excited about this."

"I am, it's just we do this every summer, and all it leads to is us going home horny and frustrated."

"Not this time Joey, I have a good feeling about this time."

I wasn't convinced, and after my recent identity crisis, watching a load of girls could be a bad idea; I mean, what if I didn't feel anything. Or, maybe it would prove once and for all I was very much heterosexual—thinking that rather than the former brightened my mood slightly.

Dean's cell started ringing, once and for all that, and he slid his finger across the screen, looking like he knew who it was before viewing the screen.

"Condoms, you got any? Uh-huh…yeah…yeah he's with me now…no…yeah, okay…how long?...okay see you there."

"Shaun?" I asked, looking up at him.

"Yep, he will be about five minutes; he’ll probably get there before us."

"Has he got any rubbers for you?"

"Yeah, he found a couple in his room. Unfortunately, I don't think they ever got used." Dean replied, bursting into laughter. "Poor Shaun, sometimes I think he's a queer."

"I assure you he's not."

"How would you know?"

"Just the way he talks about girls."

"Did he tell you he ever fucked anyone?"

"No, I didn't ask; that’s his business," I said perturbed. "Dean, you're so crass sometimes, you know that?"

"I just say it as it is, Joey, c'mon you've known me long enough."

I smiled. "Yeah, some things never change, I guess."

We walked through the large black iron gates to the park, and sure enough, there were scantily dressed girls everywhere. Some with other girls, some with their boyfriends and some even on their own. Dean scanned the grassy area and grinned.

"Some of these are gagging for it," he whispered to me as we walked."

"How can you tell," I asked in an equally lowered voice.

"The way they are looking at us. Look at that one over there, the blond with the tied up top." Dean pointed to a young blond girl sitting on her own, reading a magazine. She was wearing a short mint green skirt and no footwear.

"What about her?"

"Joey, she's wet for you, man."

"Dean, she's reading a mag; I’m sure she never even looked at me."

"Yeah, but you can imagine she did, right?"

I sighed. "Dean, how are you supposed to get laid if the person you reckon is gagging for it doesn't even know you are there."

"Hey, I'm working on it; let’s sit down and wait for Shaun. He should be here by now."

We sat down on the short, freshly mowed grass cross-legged and waited. Dean continued to look around at the girls, pointing them out to me while I twirled a daisy stork between my fingers, listening.

The sun was beating down on my back, and I was starting to sweat again. I took my T-shirt off, feeling pretty good I had a body to show off. Not that I was a vain person, but you see some people around, and they never have the confidence to take their clothes off, and I feel for them. I used to be just like that two years ago.

As I said, thanks to my manual pub work and Mother Nature, my body had developed very nicely. I tucked my T-shirt in my shorts and looked up to see Shaun approaching us.

Enough about my body!

"Hey, you never guess who I saw walking down the street with a black eye?" Shaun called, getting nearer. Dean and I shrugged. "Stanton!" revealed Shaun.

"Really?" I said, getting to my feet.

"Probably got beat up for being queer," Stated Dean.

"Shut up, Dean, no one deserves to get hit for being gay," Shaun hissed, annoyed at Dean's comment.

"Jeez, he was fine yesterday at the pub. I wonder what's happened?"

"Guys, who cares…he's not our friend, so what are we even talking about this as if we give a shit?"

"I care. The guy works at my parent's pub," I snapped. Dean just rolled his eyes at me.

"So, what are we doing here anyway?" Shaun asked, changing the subject. He could probably see an argument between me and Dean building, and he was right. I was pissed off at him for his attitude towards Jack. Sure, I could understand why he would ask why we cared maybe, but I was getting annoyed with his constant reference to Jack's sexuality.

"Dean has this plan for us all to get laid, but so far, it's not working," I said, slapping Dean lightly on the head.

"Well, can't we do something that doesn't involve us wasting the whole day? I was kinda hoping for a bit more fun," Shaun said.

"You're right, guys; it was a stupid idea. We are three hung guys with nice tanned bodies; I mean, who would want us?" Dean piped in, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Well, two of us have nice tanned bodies," Shaun added, smirking.

Dean huffed. "Hey, it's better than it was. You try being ginger and getting a tan,"

"Guys, let’s walk and talk its really hot sitting here doing nothing," I said, looking at my reddening shoulders.

We spent the next couple of hours talking about school and how shit it was having to go back there. The summer break had been fun, especially the holiday, and I, for one, was not ready for it to be over. On the other hand, I wanted to find out what happened to Jack, and I guess school would have its perks in that respect as I would be able to see Jack before next Saturday.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I got back to the pub and walked through the restaurant seeing my Dad coming out of the kitchen. We didn't speak, and I wondered if that was just because he was busy or still freaked out about what he saw. I was hoping to god it was the former.

I went upstairs and found my Mum getting change from the office. "I hope you didn't walk through the pub like that," My Mum remarked noticing the lack of clothing on my upper body.

"Yeah, sorry, I forgot to put it on," I replied, pulling my T-shirt out of my shorts. "Hey, Mum?"

"Yeah, honey, make this quick I got to get this change in the till."

"Is Dad okay, maybe it's me, but it feels like he's acting weird around me?"

"He hasn't said anything to me…hey do you mind giving me a hand downstairs until Christie arrives?"

"If I have to, what do you want me to do?"

"Just collect some glasses, oh and pump six has dried up…and a new barrel of Greco needs preparing, and did you bleach the floor yesterday?"

"Mum!"

"Sorry, Sweetheart, I have to go. Can you just make sure pump six is back on soon, please?"

She left the room, and I stood there deflated. In fact I could have cried. As my Mum referred to it, Pump six was the sixth pump along in the cooling room. Because we sometimes changed the lager, I decided to number them instead of knowing them by name. My Mum understood my system and knew it worked. My Dad? Huh, well, he just didn't have a clue about the inner workings of running a pub. If a beer was not coming out of the pump, he just assumed it wasn't working rather than thinking it may have run out. How convenient!

I plodded down to the cellar, collecting as many glasses as I could on the way. Putting a new cask on pump six, I checked the temperature and went and got a new barrel of Greco and got it ready for settling. I knocked a new tap on and laid it down, propping up the back. Picking up the rubber mallet, I knocked a hole in the side and put a cork in. The job was complete. Next, I threw some bleach down on the floor and scrubbed it with a broom before hosing out the whole room.

I sat down on one of the barrels feeling sorry for myself, feeling like my life was so shit. All I could hear in my head was my Mum barking orders at me, do this, do that. I wished Jack were here helping me. I wished Jack were here to talk to. I wished Jack were here...

Putting his hands on mine.