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    NightOwl88
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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. 

Indiana Summer - 2. First day, not the first time.

Disclaimer: This story includes sexual and romantic situations between consenting individuals. Any allusion to illicit or illegal activity, sexual or otherwise, is used only for enhancement of the story line and not promotion thereof. Remember AIDS, HIV and other STDs are a very real threat, please always practice safe sex.

I can prove copyright on this story so please don't copy or remove this story for personal use without my permission.
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Indiana Summer 02: The First Day, But Not the First Time

I lay back on my bed sore and tired. My first day of farm work had been hard but not as bad as I thought it would be. I envisioned working in a corn field under the sun all day swinging a hoe or something, but I quickly found out that old man Templeton was the only one allowed in the fields.

I asked Billy why his dad never let anyone else help him with the crops but his only answer was that he didn't trust anyone else to do it.

So without the burden of working on the crops I learned that the majority of my time, (and Billy's), would be spent working on the house and the barn. The house was the lesser of the two evils. All it needed was the roof repaired on one side. The inside of the barn though, old man Templeton wanted completely rebuilt from the ground up.

The barn was bigger than I first thought it was. Inside, along one wall were six stalls, three of which held horses while the others were empty. Billy said they used to keep cows but had sold them a few years ago. He told me that the horses were his, his mother's, and his brother's. The white and black stallion was his, while the roan and brown geldings belonged to his mom and brother.

My knowledge of horses was fairly limited but I knew the difference between a stallion and a gelding, the later being castrated while the stallion maintained its ability to breed.

It also made them unpredictable due to their natural instincts and was dangerous to inexperienced riders, while a gelding was more placid and easier to control.

I was just starting to think about what Billy would look like astride the stallion when he walked into the room from his shower, fully dressed.

"There’s enough hot water for another quick shower so you better hurry up. Mom will have dinner ready by the time you get done." He kept his eyes off me as he tossed his towel and dirty clothes into his hamper then left before I could say anything.

I stood up and stretched, trying to work the kinks of my sore muscles; it had been awhile since I had done anything this strenuous. It felt good. I walked over to the chest at the foot of my bed and pulled out a pair of jean shorts and a black tank top. It was a beautiful piece of furniture and I was glad that Mrs. Templeton had lent it to me to store my clothes and the few other things I had been allowed to bring with me.

With my clothes and toiletries in hand I grabbed a towel and washcloth out of the closet in the hall then went down to the bathroom at the end of the hall. Tossing my clothes and towels on the toilet tank I started to undress. I kicked off the work boots Billy had lent me till I could make it to town to buy my own. My socks and jeans I piled next to the sink and as I grabbed the collar of my shirt to pull it off I hesitated.

It was another article Billy had loaned me, though not be choice. We had been sitting down to breakfast that morning and I was wearing a blue T-shirt and my basketball shoes. The old man looked me over and gave me an evil little smirk before turning back to the newspaper he was reading. I didn't think anything of it till after we were done eating and Mrs. Templeton came up to me and clicked her tongue while she looked me over before telling Billy to take me upstairs and lend me a pair of his work boots and a shirt so I wouldn't ruin my shoes or dirty up my shirt which she said drew out the blue of my eyes.

Reluctantly he led me back up to his room and pulled out a pair of worn work boots and a plain white t-shirt. He stayed while I changed and as I pulled off my shirt I could see him glancing at me out of the corner of his eye; though he tried to look other wise.

Figuring I would play out a little of my frustration I decided not to help him out by getting it done quickly and decided to take as long as I could, reasonably.

I pulled the front of the shirt up and rested it behind my head, exposing my torso. I flexed my chest a little as I gripped the sleeves and pulled it down my arms as I would to take off a jacket.

And instead of immediately pulling on the shirt he had given me I bent to untie my shoes, keeping a close watch on him out of the corner of my eye as he looked all over the room other than at me and grinned every time his eyes would land back on me.

This seemed to push him over the edge and he hurried out of the room saying for me to meet him in the barn when I was changed. My fun was over after that so I hurried up and finished and went to meet him.

I piled the white shirt with the rest of the comfy clothes and made sure the water was hot before I got into the shower. One thing I loved about the bathroom was the shower head. It was placed in the ceiling right above your head so it felt like it was raining when you stepped under it.

I lathered up my hair and body with the RPM hair and body wash my grandma had given me on my last birthday and tried to out run the cool temp that was creeping into the water.

Finishing just as the water got too cold to stand I dried off and got dressed. I looked in the mirror and ran my fingers through my hair to spike it up a bit in places and pulled at the hem of my shirt, it was tighter than I remembered and really form fit my chest and abdomen.

I went back to the room I shared with Billy and put my clothes in the hamper and pulled my basketball shoes back on before going down to dinner.

The dinning room and kitchen were one big room with the kitchen taking up most of the space.

The kitchen, like most of the house, looked like a cross between old time country and modern contemporary. The gas stove sat next to the sink which sat under a window that overlooked the garden; opposite that were a refrigerator and pantry and a door which led to the basement. The rest of the kitchen was taken up by cabinets and counter space. I passed Billy’s mom on my way to the dinning room.

"It's about time you got down here; I was just about to send Billy up to get you." She said with a wide smile as she carried a cake of corn bread to the dinning room.

"Sorry Mrs. Templeton." I apologized as I sat down at the table across from Billy.

"I told you no one but church folk call me Mrs. Templeton, if you like me call me Ann or Annie, if you don't old woman Templeton will do." She said with a wink as she sat down across from the old man.

I liked Annie a lot. At times she seemed to be the perfect farmers’ wife, meek and soft spoken, but then there were times when she seemed as loud and outspoken as some of the girls I went to school with back in California

"Annie it is then I guess. If that’s OK with you." I said with a swift look at Mr. Templeton. I knew he didn't like people to address her by her first name. Billy had told me.

"Honey that’s perfect with me." She said as she put a piece of buttered cornbread and a piece of fried chicken on my plate.

"I hope the first day of work wasn’t too hard on you City." The old man said as he passed me a bowl of salad.

"No Sir. I really enjoyed it." I said as I scooped some salad onto my plate. I really hated this guy. He had taken to calling me "City" whenever he spoke to me. Not only that but he was a real ass and not just to me. He treated Billy pretty harshly, jumping his case whenever he made the smallest mistake or talked out of turn, or suggested a different way of doing something.

The change that went over Billy was staggering, I had worked with him all day and he always had an air of composer and confidence around him. He was strong willed and a bit hot headed but whenever his dad would start in on him he was like a scolded dog, he'd stare at the ground and would only answer in a voice just loud enough to hear. And his former attitude was slow to return once the old man left.

"Well don't get to comfortable in the work. Construction is a hard job and takes a lot of brains to get it right." The old man replied before taking a sip of tea.

"Well I doubt I'll have too much trouble. I know quite a bit about construction and wood working." I said nonchalantly as I continued to eat.

"Really, where did you learn about construction? One of those home makeover shows?" The old man replied with an amused smile.

That comment seemed to not only stroke me the wrong way but Billy and Annie too; they both had stopped eating and were looking at me. Instead of answering like the smart ass I was I took a drink of milk and replied rather evenly.

"No actually, when I was sixteen I was part of a volunteer group that built five houses for families whose homes had been destroyed in an earthquake and just last summer I helped my uncle build his two-story house from the foundation up."

"Well it sounds like we won't have to worry about you then." Annie’s statement brought an ease to the silence that had fallen over the table.

After that dinner went by quickly but quietly. After we were done I volunteered to help with the dishes but Annie insisted she could handle it and told Billy and me to go and relax.

We dumped our plates in the sink for Annie and after another rejected offer to help I followed Billy outside. He was sitting on the front porch steps with his back against a support column with his hands behind his head.

"Your mom is an awesome cook. I've never had fried chicken that good before." I said trying to start the conversation off on good territory.

"Yea she's the best cook around.” He replied without taking his eyes off the road.

"Thanks for loaning me the shirt and boots. If it's cool with you I'd like to use them till I can get to town to get a pair of my own." I wondered if sincere gratitude would get a better response.

"Do they fit?" He asked bluntly.

"Yea perfectly, really comfortable too." I said slightly puzzled.

"Then keep them. They're too small for me; you might as well get some use out of them." He looked at me briefly before turning back to the road.

"Thanks." Was all I could say.

"Don't worry about it, besides my mom would have ended up giving them to you anyway." He said with a nasty little smile that unfortunately reminded me of the old man.

I smiled and tried to act like I thought it was a joke.

Deciding my attempts at a pleasant conversation weren't working I decided to take in the scenery, including Billy.

                                                                *      *      *

I knew he was watching me. I could see him looking at me every few minutes out of the corner of my eye. I wanted to look back, meet his eyes just once, but I couldn't. I wasn’t suppose to, not like that, not how I wanted to.

I closed my eyes and tried to pretend he wasn’t there, but it didn't work, in a way it made it worse. Without seeing the real thing my imagination took over. Pictures flew across my eyelids, the way his chest stretched when he changed shirts after breakfast, the way the sweat glistened on his face while we worked in the barn, how the black tank-top he wore was showing off his arms.

"What are you smiling about?" David’s voice popped me out of my thoughts.

Two feelings surged through me as I looked up at him, desire and guilt.

It felt so good to watch him, to close my eyes and let my imagination take over. But what I felt when I opened my eyes was devastating.

It was like a cold, bubbling feeling in the pit of my stomach. It made me feel angry with myself, it made my dad's voice ring through my head, yelling at me, making me feel ashamed of my thoughts and my feelings.

"Nothing." I said purposely avoiding his eyes.

"Oh, well since its only seven-thirty and I'm pretty sure there are a few hours of daylight left I'm going to go for a walk to check out this little place, would you like to come?" David asked before standing up and stretching so that the front of his shirt pulled up giving me a quick glimpse of a dark haired treasure-trail.

"Uh..Um..No. I have some stuff here I need to do." I lied. I wanted to go so bad just to be near him, but if I was going to survive the summer I needed to keep some distance between us.

"Suit yourself." He said as he walked down the steps next to me so that his ass was directly in my line of view.

I watched him as he walked across the yard. He was nearly to the road before I remembered my dad's rules.

"Hey," I called out before he could reach the end of the yard, "Stay out of the woods. A lot of the trails are hard to follow, and curfew is eight-thirty."

He smiled, waved and walked away.

I went into the kitchen to get a drink and ran into my mom who was looking out of the kitchen window.

"Where is David going?" She asked suspiciously.

"He wanted to look at the scenery, so he took a walk." I poured a glass of tea as I spoke.

"Why didn't you go with him? You know the area better then anyone." She said turning away from the window to look at me.

"I didn't feel like being a tour guide." I realized at the look on her face that I my voice had been too aggressive.

"What’s going on?" She asked curiously.

"Nothing." I said without meeting her eyes.

"Then why the attitude?" She asked sitting down at the table.

"I didn't mean to come off that way, I'm sorry. I just don't know him that well and I'm not comfortable around him yet." It was a stupid excuse but it would work for now.

"You should get to know him. He seems like he would be a good friend." She was staring at me with an odd look in her eyes as she spoke.

"He's only going to be here for a few months mom, what’s the use in getting to be friends when he's just going to go back to California and probably forget about me." I was letting perhaps a bit too much emotion into my voice, because the look she pinned me with was deep and searching.

She looked at me for a few moments then got up and walked toward the living room. She stopped in the doorway and said.

"You never know until you try."

I finished my tea and went up to my room thinking about what my mom had said.

It wasn’t the fact that I didn't WANT to be his friend it was the fact that I wouldn't be able keep him out of my mind if we were closer. It was hard enough as is, sharing the same room, working within a few feet of each other. It would only get worse if we were friends.

I sat down on my bed and tried to find a way to stay sane without carving myself up like a turkey.

I leaned against the headboard and looked around my room for something to distract myself with.

My eyes fell on David's bed then the hamper that was at the foot by the trunk his clothes were in. The hamper lid was closed but something white was sticking out from under it.

Knowing how my dad got when things didn't meet his perfection standards I got up and flipped open the lid, intending to push whatever it was further in to avoid hearing one of his cleanliness lectures; but I froze when I saw that it was the shirt I had lent David to work in that day.

I don't know what came over me, exactly, but I picked it up and went back to my bed.

I sat there holding it; it was still kind of damp with sweat. I ran my thumbs over the neck line and a strange impulse welled up in me. I held it up to my nose and smelled the collar, the scent of sweat and an earthy, musk smell hit me.

I inhaled deeply, the heavy scent making me feel hot all over, like the blood rushing through me was boiling. I felt a faint smile touch my lips and I closed my eye, enjoying the experience; but not for long.

As I reached down and squeezed my semi hard cock through my jeans then my fingers wandered to the zipper when I heard my parents talking loudly from down stairs. The second I heard my dad's voice reality came back with a hard smack.

I dropped the shirt onto the floor and clasped my hands together to keep them from shaking as I tried to fight the wave of mingled shame, desire and pain that was washing over me. I closed my eyes and felt tears fall onto my arm that was all I could take.

I slowly pulled my shirt off and reached under my bed and pulled out a small wooden box, I opened it and pulled out a pocket knife, a few tissues, a bandage and some peroxide. I opened the knife and pressed the sharp edge of it against my chest, over my heart.

I hesitated, trying to talk myself out of it.

“Don’t do it, not again, you don't need to, you can handle it." I told myself. My hands were shaking.

I didn't want to do it, but I couldn't handle the storm of feelings inside me.

Maybe, just one more time................

To be continued........
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I hope you all enjoyed the chapter; I will have more to you soon. As always I love to get your thoughts and opinions so feel free to email me at allenarcane88@yahoo.com, drop me a PM, write me a review or visit the discussion forum.

I read and respond to everything.

Discussion forum link
http://www.gayauthors.org/forums/topic/26094-indiana-summer/

Copyright © 2014 NightOwl88; 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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Chapter Comments

On 05/30/2011 03:34 PM, Foster said:
I like the details about the farm and the old house. I remember places like that. Is Mr Templeton really an old bastard. I wonder about that too. Looks like David and Billy are going to be close one way or another.
Hey Bugeye, good to see you again. I based the description of the farm on my Aunts place a few miles of here and the house loosely based on my Uncle's place in kentucky. Yes Mr. Templeton is an old bastard. You'll find out more about him later. Best,NightOwl

Poor Billy, his troubles seem the serious kind. I hope David will be able to help him. I like his mum too, she seems to even the balance somehow in the story. I hope the Daddy dearest isn't that bad as he seems to me right now.

 

You have a cool writing style, plunt and a matter of fact type. I like it a lot.

 

And I like to have two pov's. It makes the reader aware of both boy's situation and feel for them both.

 

 

On 06/13/2011 05:37 PM, Marzipan said:
Poor Billy, his troubles seem the serious kind. I hope David will be able to help him. I like his mum too, she seems to even the balance somehow in the story. I hope the Daddy dearest isn't that bad as he seems to me right now.

 

You have a cool writing style, plunt and a matter of fact type. I like it a lot.

 

And I like to have two pov's. It makes the reader aware of both boy's situation and feel for them both.

 

Hey Marzipan, glad to see you again. Billy is a troubled one, indeed he is the first of the kind that I've written. David and Annue are fun ones. She does bring some balance into the equation doesn't she? Iam glad that you like my style, it means a lot me to hear that. Best,NightOwl
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