T.R.'s Tale - 3. Chapter 3

“Well boys, is this Texas or some California fairy land? Looks like these queers can’t wait to get in a room. Hey faggots! Get a room afore we kick your asses and make you wished you had.”

I had closed my eyes once the kiss began when I heard the voice I could see Bill was already sizing up the situation. He released his hold on me and I moved to stand near the front of the bike facing three rednecks. They reeked of beer. These three had obviously taken full advantage of happy hour somewhere.

Bill stood and swung his leg so he was on the other side of the bike. He stepped to the end of the bike so the three facing us were almost between us. “You gentlemen realize Texas has a hate crimes law? That means, that if you start shit with us we’re gonna kick your asses and you're still going to jail and have to stand trial.”

None of the three really looked threatening. The one who acted as spokesman had a gut so big it probably had been years since he saw his dick. The one to his right was in his late fifties and obviously not happy with his friends remarks. He started to apologized when the fat one cut him off. “Don’t be apologizing for what I said. Ain’t no jury gonna listen to faggots over god fearing Christians. I say we kick their fudge packing asses.”

I was more fascinated by Bill’s reaction and actions. He was enjoying himself. If the fire in his eyes was any indication, Bill Wilson relished a good old fashioned Donny Brook. His stance was such that he could launch himself on which ever of the three moved first. As for me I had already figure we wouldn’t get out of this without them or us getting our asses kicked. I wasn’t as eager as Bill, but I wasn’t about to back down.

Bill had an evil grin on his face. His biceps were flexed and his pecs danced up and down, “Well, Well, T. R. you said this town was filled with nothing but pussies. Seems you might be wrong. I don’t want the fat one… but I think I’m gonna fuck the skinny young’un after this is over. I told you working as team bouncers at Billy Bob’s was not a waste of time. Shit, this will be a walk in the park compared to dealing with five or six shit kicking cowboys. Pick one, or do you want to tag team the young one with me?”

The “young’un” got sober real quick. “Look mister, I ain’t looking for no trouble. I don’t hassle no one. I’m not looking to get fucked up in a fight and damn sure ain’t looking to get fucked. Tom, Fred I’m going on up to the room. If ya’ll got any sense you’ll go too. This fucker might be gay, but he’s bigger than me and you Fred and his, uh, friend ain’t too much smaller. Ya’ll can stay here and get your asses kicked but I’m leaving.” With that, he moved behind his two friends and headed for the stairs without looking back.

Tom, the fat one, called over his shoulder, “Jim, you’re a pussy!” Fred stepped back and said, “Look Tom, you of all people got no right talking to these guys like that. Hell, I wasn’t gonna tell you, but I seen you sucking dick at that bookstore back home. I wasn’t gonna say anything ‘cause I was doing the same thing myself. Now apologize to these young men and maybe I’ll let you suck my big ol dick tonight after junior goes to sleep.”

He pushed Tom toward the stairs and even as Tom’s mouth dropped open at what his friend just said. “Fu, Fu, Fred, I never thought you, you, I mean I would, I mean you.”

Fred continued to push Tom toward the stairs and said, “Gentlemen, I hope you will forgive my idiot friend here. If we have offended you please accept my apology. If you had chosen me to bear the brunt of our defeat over Junior, I might have been interested in losing a fight… just so you know.”

Fred was still getting over the shock of being outted and propositioned by his friend. He had forgotten all about the two of us. I looked at Bill, our eyes met and we both burst out laughing. The whole scene was ridiculous.

Once the laughter subsided, Bill retrieved his helmet and handed me one that had been strapped to the side of the bike. As I was strapping my helmet on Bill asked, “You like Bar-B-Q?”

“If it’s good … yep, but not everywhere in Texas has good bar-b-q.” Bill once again straddled the bike and rolled it out of the parking slot, while I tightened up my chinstrap.

“You know how to ride a bike?” I nodded. “You know how to ride as a passenger?” Again I nodded. Bill started the bike and I climbed on. He moved the bike through the parking lot and into traffic with a graceful ease. A few blocks through City traffic and we were on a two lane blacktop. A sign indicated we were headed toward a lake. Bill hit a button and Segar began singing “Roll me Away”. Up to this point I had laid my hands on my thighs and kept a distance between our bodies. For some reason the fact he chose the same traveling oldies that I like made me feel closer. I edged forward and wrapped my arms around his waist. Bill’s response was to run his right hand up and down my left arm. His touch sent chills up my arm and down to my dick. My own right hand traveled up his abs to his chest and I began to tap out the rhythm to the song.

Three Segar songs later we pulled into a gravel parking lot of a lakeside restaurant. No longer than the ride had taken I was a little numb and my ears were shocked by the silence. We opted to eat on the deck overlooking the lake. I deferred to Bill since apparently he was familiar with this place. He ordered a sample platter that gave us pork, beef and chicken all grilled and each with their own sauce. For side dishes we both ordered greens, coleslaw, and baked beans. Neither wanted a drink so it was iced tea, unsweetened for me and sweet tea for Bill.

The conversation was comfortable Bill talked about being an only child of a lawman who was a son of a lawman who was the son of a Texas Ranger when horseback was the favored mode of transportation. I was curious and Bill openly discussed whether he was a trooper to please his family or was it what he really wanted. He said he had never wanted to be anything else. Even as a kid he insisted on being the sheriff when he and his friends played “cops and robbers.”

“What about being gay Bill? When did you know? I mean law enforcement is not an accepting profession when it comes to anything that’s different. How do you cope?”

Bill twisted his glass of tea and watched as the ice cubes shifted. “I guess I always knew I was different. I had an eighth grade math teacher, Mr. Faucett, who helped me understand who I was and he helped me accept myself. I figure it really is nobody’s business what I do in the bedroom. No one needs to know I’m gay unless we are about to have sex.” He looked up at me and gave me a goofy grin, “That’s why I told you, so now we have to have sex.”

“Are you out to anyone Bill? Family, friends, anyone?” I was proud of the fact that I neither reacted to nor responded to his last comment.

“T. R., you’re in a job where people are not going to care if you’re gay. No one expects you to protect them from the bad guys. If an associate of yours resents the fact that you’re gay, you live with it. My life depends on my brothers in arms to have my back and they have to know I have theirs. I’m not saying one of them would harm me. It’s just that if I call for back-up they might delay just enough …” His voice trailed off as he finished speaking. Once again, he focused on the ice in his glass.

What Bill said made sense. It was easy for me to stand up as gay. My life is not put on the line. I don’t have to depend on someone else to get me out of a jam.

“Have you ever thought of getting a different job, something like a private investigator or something a little less dangerous or maybe a little more accepting?”

“What would you suggest? Go to law school?” His tight lipped expression suddenly brightened, “Did my mother have anything to do with your moving here? Are you really gay or just trying to convince me to leave my chosen profession? You know there will be a test later to determine whether you’re gay or straight.”

Before I could ask about the test our waitress brought a tray loaded down with food. Once we made space for everything she departed.

“Ok, Mr. Straight Trooper, what is this test? I never heard about a test. When I got my gay card they never said anything about a test. Do you even have your card? You may be one of those straight spies trying to infiltrate and learning about our recruiting methods.”

In a mock German accent that given his blond hair and blue eyes seemed an almost apropos affectation, “Heir Doktor, yo vill talk. Yo vill gib me da secrets to your organization’s sooksess. I vill break you.” Then in a switch that seemed immediate and flawless, in a voice that sent chills down my spine, he murmured, “Timothy Reed Boudreaux, resistance is futile.” If looks could kill then the look he gave me would have left me sexually violated. The vibrations from that sexy voice sent chills down my spine. I felt heat flush my face and my cock throbbed and the man hadn’t even touched me.

Once I calmed down and the pounding in my heart was no longer deafening I realized my reaction to this handsome man was most likely due to the fact it had been months since I had been with a man. I realized that Bill had been watching me intently. When my eyes met his, his smile deepened and warmed me beyond the blush my face still held.

Talking to Bill was like talking to someone I had known all my life and trusted completely. I told him things about Robert and me that I had not even admitted to myself. I realized that part of Robert’s attraction was the fact that he was not totally available. That partial availability was probably something I needed. He didn’t ever really make demands on my time. Our time together meshed with my busy school schedule and his “family”. It was only as I approached a new phase in my life that I really began to see challenges to our relationship. His impending fatherhood was just the catalyst that brought the inevitable end. Strange how talking to someone else about yourself can bring you surprises. I only then realized I had never really loved Robert. I felt better about Robert and my breakup than ever before. I felt like a dark cloud had been blown away.

We came away with doggy bags. I wondered if Doc would still be awake to share a snack when I got back. Walking from the restaurant I began to feel nervous about “what now”? When we got to the bike Bill pulled two light weight leather jackets from his saddlebags. The one he handed me wasn’t new and I couldn’t help but wonder who else or how many others had worn this jacket and rode behind this handsome, sexy man.

Bill must have been thinking too. I had zipped the jacket up half way and reached for my helmet. “Look Tar, I know this is our first date. I was serious about getting to know you and I was serious about wanting to have sex with you. I want to do this right. Not slam bam and a thank you sir. I can find a one night stand. I would like us to be friends as well as lovers. I intend to take you back to get your Jeep and then follow you home and see you properly to your door. I won’t ask to stay the night tonight, but I will, when the time is right. Robert was a fool. I don’t like being foolish in important matters. I knew from the moment I saw you that I wanted to know you better. I still do.”

I would like to say that I was flattered by Bill’s sentiments and that it warmed me inside. What I really heard was “No Sex Tonight”. Even in the half light of the parking lot Bill must have seen my disappointment. “Tar, I’ll make it right. I promise I’ll do everything I can to make it the most mind-blowing experience you have ever had, just not tonight. If we make it tonight, it will be too easy for you to think of me as a one night stand. Listen. Right now I want you so bad it’s hard to think. I’ve had images of you bent over the handle bars with me pounding that hot ass of yours. I jerked off twice last night and again in the shower this morning, thinking about you.”

Bill took my right hand and placed it against his left thigh. The bulge running down his left leg pulsed and I jerked my hand away. That thing was huge! “And you’re going to put that monster where?” The words slipped out before I could catch myself. Bill smiled trying to hold back a laugh. He failed. His laughter echoed off the restaurant walls and the night air. It sounded like a whole crowd was laughing at my naiveté. I buckled and tightened the chinstrap and moved away from Bill. I was pissed and wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there. Had LBJ been there, I would have been gone. Bill eventually realized he was the only one laughing and fought to regain control.

When he reached for me I grabbed his wrist and twisted, stepped behind him and had him in a hammerlock. I rubbed my crotch against his ass and said, “Now, big boy, whose cock is going in whose ass?” I applied pressure and was ready to travel with him if he tried to break free.

He just stood there. “Tar, there are three ways I know to break a hammerlock. Anyone of those is going to get one of us hurt. Now if you want to fuck me, all you have to do is ask nicely, I’m versatile. I’ll enjoy it either way. But do let go, I like looking at your face.”

Jesus, Jesse and Joseph, this guy wins even when he’s losing. I patted his left shoulder and released my hold and stepped back. I didn’t bother to tell him I knew how to block more than three methods of breaking a hammerlock. Bill pulled me to him and kissed me hard and fast. “Now, let’s get you home and I can go jack off thinking about how cute you are when you get pissed.”

On the straight stretch of road Bill pulled my right hand from around his waist and used it stroke his stroke his hard cock. I took the hint. I ran my fingers along its length and used my fingernails to scratch at the denim covered head. At one point he raised his ass off the seat to try to increase the pressure. I could tell my efforts were getting to him. I took my left hand and stuck it up under his jacket and rubbed up his chest. I could feel his bristly chest hair. I found his left nipple and began tweaking it with my finger tips, all the while my right hand was teasing his cock. Bill slowed all too quickly and pulled off to the side of the road. Over his shoulder he said, “Get off”.

I wasn’t sure what he was going to do. It occurred to me that he might leave me alongside the road. The motor was still running and the headlights gave an eerie kind of backlight. He was mostly a silhouette. “Take your helmet off.” I complied. When I looked up he had removed his too. He moved close to me. I expected to hear him say, “On your knees.” Instead he was silent. He unbuttoned my jeans and then unzipped them. He shoved them down past my knees. He took my face in his big hands and kissed me. His lips were soft and moist. His tongue applied for entrance, I approved the application and it began to educate me on how fucking hot a strange tongue in your mouth can be. I had been kissed before but never with a tongue quite so aggressive. I actually thought ( if I could have thought) that his tongue wrapped around mine. It did at one point tickle my throat. By now I was humping my cock against his jeans. Bill broke the kiss and held my head in his hands for a moment. “Goddamn, you are so … so beautiful.” Normally I would have cringed at that term. Tonight, alongside this lonely Texas back road it seemed a high compliment. My hands had been around his waist, holding him as I humped. I brought them up and held his face as he was holding mine. I pulled him into a kiss and he dropped his hands to allow the kiss. His hands fell to my waist and pulled me closer. This time it was I who explored his mouth. He tasted of tea and Bill, sweet and tangy. That flavor could easily become a favorite.

Bill’s hands moved to my leaking cock. His right began to stroke me while his left lifted and rolled my balls around. He broke the kiss and dropped to his knees. His left hand continued to play with my balls as that magic tongue reached out to caress my leaking cockhead. His tongue began to feel strange almost rough, likes a cats tongue. It seemed to be coated in tiny bumps. Bill’s head plunged forward and engulfed my length. That indescribable feeling of my cock sliding into his throat sent a surge of passion to my brain. I grabbed his head and began humping. His hands on my ass pulled me into him.

One of his fingers found my pucker and tapped at the entrance, not trying to penetrate. His hands left my ass. His left caressed my thigh. His hands moved back to my ass and a wet finger pushed it’s was into my depths. When his fingertip hit my button I lost it. My ass clamped down on his finger with a death grip. My hands held his head in a vice while I tried to shove my whole body down his throat. My balls drew up so quickly it hurt as I began to unload down his throat. By the time I was through coming Bill was supporting my weight. I literally would have fallen to the ground if he had not caught me.

Once I was steady I became eager to try to give as good as I got. I pulled Bill up on his feet and was about to kneel. “Don’t bother. It’s ah, uh, too late. I came when you did.” Bill had, with what must have been a third hand, extracted his cock and jerked off.

“That’s good in a way. I don’t think I could have made you feel half as good as you just made me.”

“Tar, this can’t be just a one night stand. I don’t even like sucking cock and here you made me cum while I did it.”

“Bill, why do you keep thinking this is a one-time thing?”

“Tar, you know that I have to stay closeted. I can’t come out. I mean I can and I have to my family. I don’t really have any close friends. The guys I have met that I wanted to get to know, well they just wanted a good time and nothing more. I have been told more than once that a closeted gay man has too much baggage to be considered anything but a one night stand.”

Once he explained his fears, I understood a lot better. “Bill, I don’t want to make promises that I can’t keep. I like you and want to get to know you better. I spent almost two years with a closeted gay man. I really don’t want to do that again … but kissing me in the parking lot of the motel … then confronting those rednecks … then tonight you kissed me in the restaurant parking lot again. To top it all, a blow job alongside the road. That doesn’t sound like a closeted gay man. That sounds like a man who is totally comfortable with himself. If that is what you call closeted then I can’t imagine the change in you when you come out.”

“Look, Doc wants to meet any friends I make. He sounds sincere and supportive. I think your coming to dinner will be a kind of test for my relationship with Doc. If he really is comfortable, then we'll have a good time. If he isn't, well we'll leave together and I'll know this isn't the right place for me. Why don’t you come to dinner at his… our house tomorrow night? Let’s take it slow and see if we can have something where we are both comfortable. Want to give it a try?”

“Sounds fair enough for me Tar, but I am gonna fuck that hot ass of yours, cowboy.” Bill strapped his helmet on while I stood and watched in an almost daze. I had glimpsed his cock and now I was convinced that thing would tear me a new asshole. It was only after he revved the engine that I realized my pants were around my ankles. I bent to pull them up and Bill called, “Hey, you can put those in the saddlebags if you want. But you might get a little chilled between here and town.”

Pants fastened and helmet snug, I straddled the bike. I twisted my head and slammed my helmet into his and said, “Let’s go smartass”.

The ride into town was too short, I had snuggled up to Bill’s broad back and had it not been for the helmet I could have gotten comfortable enough to fall asleep.

At the motel, parked alongside LBJ, I returned the helmet and jacket. There was that awkward moment which could have been overcome by a kiss. Instead, we made plans for him to join Doc and myself for dinner tomorrow night. I stood and watched him until the taillights of the bike were lost to the city night lights. Me and LBJ were a little concerned about finding Doc’s house in the dark but really had no problem. As I got out, I heard a familiar rumbling sound and watched as Bill made a U-turn and headed back to town.

Doc had left the house lit up like an airport runway. I am sure he did this as a sign of welcome. I mused that he and David, and now Bill, made this town feel like the right place for me.

Once in the house I quietly moved to the kitchen. I was surprised to find Doc, clad in boxers heating up some hot chocolate. “Hey, Cinderella, how was the ball?”

I wondered if any of the night showed in my face. “I had a good time. Did you go to Julie’s for dinner?”

“No, I heated up a can of soup and had some saltines. And you said I had no food here. Kids these days don’t know how to get along with the basics.”

“Well could I interest you in some basic Bar-B-Que?” Doc got some plates and I warmed the leftovers in the microwave. He seemed to enjoy the food and asked questions about Bill, me and Bill and when was I going to see him again. Strange but talking to Doc about Bill made me feel good. I left out the best parts, but somehow there was a gleam in his eyes that let me know I wasn’t telling everything.

It seemed we only talked for a couple of minutes but the clock showed it had been over an hour. We cleaned up and said good night.

As I drifted off to sleep I wondered how Bill knew I was moving in with Doc. Small towns have a way of spreading news, especially about strangers. I wondered if the whole town knew I as gay? I wondered if they knew about me and Bill. Bill was my last thought as I drifted off.

I awoke to the smell of coffee. There was a mug of steaming coffee, sitting on a warming pad. Alongside it were sugar, artificial sweetener and creamer. It was a little after six and the sun was already above the horizon. I turned off the warming pad and sipped the coffee sitting up in bed. I was still a little in awe at the changes I had experienced in the last forty eight hours. Through all those changes, Bill was the most significant. His smile and those eyes seemed to overshadow all my recollections since arriving in town.

Charged with caffeine, I headed to the bathroom, showered, shaved and readied for the day. I found a note from Doc on the kitchen table. “T. R., take your time and come in when you’re ready. I enjoyed the snack and the conversation last night. Doc”.

I figured I still had more than an hour to get to the clinic and still arrive a half hour before office hours began. It would give me time to check on the two overnighters.