J.C. Calciano's Blog

The Sexy Soap Star

Hudson sat at his computer, putting the finishing touches on a video he was editing. He was a self-taught filmmaker and an aspiring director. He had moved to Los Angeles five years earlier to pursue a career as an actor. His thick sandy blonde hair and green eyes made him a striking and attractive man. Hudson had wholesome, midwestern good looks and an impressive, strong body from working on a farm. He was undoubtedly movie-star material. But, in a town like Hollywood, he was one in a thousand handsome, muscular men.

As Hudson prepared to upload his video online, his ex-boyfriend, Todd, burst in the door with the usual bravado that accompanied his entrances. “I found the most amazing yard sale in Beverly Hills today! I couldn’t help myself; I bought everything they’d sell me. Now, all the old stuff in this apartment’s gotta go!”

“Hang on a minute!” Hudson exclaimed, “There’s nothing wrong with this stuff. We bought all this together. Plus, where’d you get the money to buy all new things?”

Todd turned on the charm as he cozied up to Hudson, “Our décor is all old. I figured we’d split the cost. Listen, babe, trust me, it’s stunning furniture.”

Hudson quickly became agitated since trust was a luxury that Todd no longer could afford. He sharply replied, “I stopped being your ‘babe’ when I caught you cheating on me. Plus, I’m only living here until I find another place to go. I’m certainly not planning to sell my furniture or live here much longer.”

Todd’s tone instantly got defensive, “Well, it’s been six months since we broke up, and you’re still here. If you want to continue living here, I’m going to redecorate, and you need to pay for half of it.” Hudson was again reminded why he ended it with Todd, who was a narcissist and selfish to the core.

Hudson hated the fact that he was stuck living with his ex-boyfriend. Todd knew that he couldn’t afford his own apartment, and finding a new roommate would take a while.

Hudson suppressed his agitation and replied in a calm voice, “Can I at least see the stuff that you plan on buying? If I’m coming up with half the money, I’d like to know at least what I’m paying for.”

Todd knew he won the argument and was happily making a small concession so that he could get what he wanted. “Here’s the address to the yard sale. The gal who is selling the stuff’s name is Sarah. Just ask her to show you what I had put aside for me.”

Hudson knew his choices were limited. Best to see what Todd bought and how much this re-decoration was going to cost him. Maybe he could strike a better deal?

Hudson jumped into his old jeep and began following the GPS into the heart of Beverly Hills. The apartment buildings soon disappeared, being replaced by sprawling, beautiful homes. Luscious green lawns, palm tree-lined streets, and expensive cars became a common sight. Finally, he arrived at his destination.

Could this be the place? Hudson wondered as he pulled up to a magnificent house. He swallowed hard as he approached the door. These people were wealthy. Why would they be interested with the few measly dollars a garage sale would get them?

A mighty bang from the brass knockers on the door signaled that he was at the entrance.

Hudson was convinced that this magnificent house couldn’t possibly be selling things cheaply on the front lawn. Todd either gave him the wrong address, or he sent him on a wild goose chase just to mess with him.

The grand wooden door swung open, and rather than a flirty young woman as expected stood a ridiculously hot young man. Hudson needed to catch his breath. He had seen his share of gorgeous studs in Hollywood, but this guy was next-level gorgeous.

“Hi, Can I help you?” the smoldering stranger asked.  Hudson fought to regain his composure.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m at the wrong house. I was looking for someone named Sarah who was having a yard sale.”

“Ah, Sarah!” he replied. “She just left. She’s my best friend. She split right after the sale ended. I could probably help you.”

Hudson was confused but happy that he was in the right place. He explained, “My boyfriend, well, rather, my ex-boyfriend said he bought a bunch of stuff from her. I was hoping I could check it out before he picked it up.”

“Got it,” the sexy man at the door replied. “Come in. Let’s get this sorted out. My name’s, Banks. This is my place. I was the one having the sale.”

Hudson thought before he spoke. Banks? Like Banks Bridgeton, from the TV soap opera, “Fire and Desire?”

Banks escorted him into the house as he turned and asked, “Can I get you something? An iced tea, perhaps?”

Hudson politely declined as he cleared his throat, needing to ask the obvious question. “If this is your place, why was she having a garage sale? Especially in this neighborhood?”

Banks chuckled as he answered, “Sarah was just helping me with the sale. My publicist said it wasn’t a good idea for me to be seen having a sale on my front lawn. You know, someone comes by and takes pictures and Instagram’s me. Sometimes it gets weird when people think you’re famous and rich.”

Before he could finish his sentence, Hudson blurted out, “Think?! You ARE famous and rich!”

Banks laughed heartily, “I’m just a soap opera actor. The last few years have been good to me, but I’m far from rich… and famous.”

Hudson still wasn’t convinced as he continued, “Well, looking at this house, you’re certainly, not poor.” Pausing briefly, “Sorry about that … are you poor?” He now wondered as the words spilled out of his mouth.

Banks was enjoying the uninhibited conversation between them as he explained, “This isn’t my stuff. It’s my ex-boyfriend’s. The house is mine, but the furniture is his.” Banks suddenly stopped. His tone and demeanor were now somber and a bit sad. “We were together for a while, but recently I discovered that he was quite the player.” He continued, “I’ll put up with a lot, but I won’t tolerate being cheated on and lied to, which was exactly what he was doing.”

Hudson agreed loudly, “Amen to that! The same thing happened to me.”

Banks knew he was not alone in his heartache. “So, your boyfriend cheated on you too?” He inquired as he sat down on the oversized, plush couch, inviting Hudson to join him.

“Yup. I thought he was trustworthy and loyal, but three years later, I learned that he was sleeping with everyone but me.”

Bank’s large, sweet eyes expressed the pain he had been feeling for a while now but hadn’t discussed with anyone. “Yup, my heart was shattered. That’s why I told him to leave. He moved back to New York. This all belongs to him. I certainly don’t want it. I asked Sarah to help me get rid of it.”

Hudson bluntly stated, “Men. Can’t live with them, can’t bury them under the Azalea bush.” The two men chuckled as they both recognized the statement as a line from their favorite film.

They both stood there an impossibly long time, starring into each other’s eyes. They were feeling an unusual excitement between them. Finally, Hudson broke the silence.

“I should check out that furniture. I’d like to see what I’m supposed to be purchasing.”

Banks responded quickly, “Of course, let me show you around. I believe Sarah put all your stuff in the guest bedroom.”

As the two men made their way through the impressive home, Hudson couldn’t help but comment on the extraordinary pool just outside a pair of ornate French doors. “I’ve always wanted my own pool; it must be great to be able to go for a dip whenever you’d like and not have all the neighbors staring at you.”

Banks realized just how fortunate he was to have such a spectacular home. “Yes, I have to admit, I’m quite blessed to be able to have my own home.”

Hudson quickly realized why his ex-boyfriend was so excited earlier as they entered the spare room where all the sale items were temporarily stored. An impressive array of lamps, end tables, vases, and other assorted home décor filled the space.

He didn’t need to scrutinize the furniture too closely; based on the items in the collection; it was nothing short of fantastic.

“What do we owe you for all this stuff? My ex never mentioned what it would cost.”

 

Banks looked at the merchandise in the corner of the room and continued, “Well, he also wanted the bed… I can assure you that the price Sarah gave your ex will be quite different than the one I give you.”

 

Hudson blushed, “Very kind of you. I appreciate your generosity, but I don’t want to take advantage of your good nature.”

 

Banks quickly replied, “Please, this stuff all has memories associated with it that I’d rather forget. Especially that bed.”

 

Hudson admitted, “I understand what you mean. I caught my ex in my bed. I haven’t slept in it ever since.”

 

Banks knew precisely what he meant. He, too, was still upset from what had happened to him. “Yup. That bed has a lot of bad memories… However …”

 

Suddenly, Bank’s eyes twinkled in a way that surprised Hudson.

 

Temptingly, he leaned forward and whispered, “We could make new memories in it if you’d like?”

 

Hudson let out a nervous and excited laugh. Could it be this smoldering soap stud was seducing him?

 

Banks couldn’t help himself as he continued. There was something about Hudson that he felt remarkably refreshing, honest, and sexy. “Do you have anything planned for this evening… actually, now? I was just about to order dinner. I’d love the company if you’re available to join me?”

 

Hudson was surprised at the unexpected invitation but excited at the promise of getting to know this sexy man better. He replied with a shy smile, “Does dinner include a dip in that beautiful pool later?”

 

Banks wasted no time in answering, “Yup, but you must know that pool a has a very strict dress code.”

 

Hudson knew that Banks was full-on flirting with him, so he decided to tease back. “I have to warn you. I don’t have an extensive wardrobe.”

 

Banks winked as he replied, “That’s okay, the wardrobe is; no wardrobe. It’s more of an ‘undress’ code.”

 

Hudson couldn’t hold himself back any longer. Banks was way too hot not to take him up on his sexual advances. The two men grabbed the other passionately as they locked lips, falling backward on the bed together. Banks peeled off his shirt to reveal a sculpted, muscular chest with a light smattering of dark chest hairs. Hudson reciprocated as he opened his shirt and unfastened his pants.

 

Banks stated with a heavy breath as he too peeled off his jeans. “I have a feeling that I’m going to want to keep this bed after tonight, as well as the man that’s currently in it.”

 

That night the two men not only made wonderful new memories in that bed but also waited for dawn to arrive in the hot tub. Banks sold Hudson’s ex-boyfriend everything he requested from the sale but kept the bed… and Hudson for himself.

 

The post The Sexy Soap Star appeared first on JC Calciano.

The Fearless Fireman

The alarm bell rang in the firehouse, signaling a blazing fire in downtown Kansas City. Wells was the first to gear up and jump behind the wheel of Engine 463. He was the firehouse captain and was adored by the community’s citizens. No one in the company was stronger, smarter, or more compassionate than he was.
Second in command to Wells was his best friend, Keith Tucker, who was musclebound, athletic, and handsome.
The two strapping men were the town’s pride and its most eligible bachelors. Keith was tall and striking in appearance, with bulging arms covered in tattoos. His weathered, striking face donned a well-groomed, standard-issue fireman’s mustache. Wells was the bigger of the two men. His fresh face made him look like the high school’s star quarterback rather than a hunky fireman.
The two studly firefighters have been best friends for the last ten years. They instantly bonded when they met in high school, defending a nerdy first-year student from a sophomore bully. They have been inseparable ever since and have dedicated their lives to serving and protecting the members of their community.
Keith was a recent divorcee. Now single, he possessed sole custody of his daughter, Emily. At four feet tall, with long dark hair and a pixie face that was as sweet as it was innocent. Emily Tucker was the apple of her dad’s eye and Well’s beloved goddaughter. The three were inseparable, and they created their own little nuclear family.
Emily called Wells her second father since he often picked her up after school while Keith worked his shift at the firehouse. Keith felt guilty that Wells needed to pick up Emily from school for him, but Wells didn’t mind. He enjoyed it, especially since he had a secret crush on Emily’s teacher, Mr. Saunders.
***
One day, while on “Emily duty,” Wells patiently sat in front of Calhoun Elementary, waiting for her to finish school. He shifted in his seat like a nervous teen, hoping to get a glimpse of his secret crush, Mr. Saunders, Emily’s teacher.
***
Mr. Saunders was blissfully unaware that amongst the sea of sex-starved mothers, a strapping fireman sat quietly in his truck and gazed hungrily upon his tight dress slacks and the form-fitting button-down shirt. Wells couldn’t help but laugh at his foolishness as he fantasized about having this bookish stud in his bed. Mr. Saunders was unlike the usual burly firefighter bros Wells worked with at the station. Nerdy, Clark Kent, scholastic types lit his fire, and Mr. Saunders was precisely that.
***
As Emily emerged from her classroom, she instantly spotted Wells in his truck. Her face lit up at the sight of her second dad waiting patiently for her. She eagerly ran to him and jumped into his vehicle to be taken home. Wells warmly greeted her with a big kiss and snuggle. He began navigating the obstacle course of minivans filled with exhausted moms and sugar-infused children when he spotted Mr. Saunders walking over.
Wells’s heart pounded at the sight of Mr. Saunders approaching. Did I do something wrong? Am I allowed to pick up my goddaughter, or does it need to be a parent? Did Emily do anything wrong? Wells panicked, thinking that something was amiss.
Mr. Saunders smiled as he approached the passenger window of Well’s truck. His bright white teeth sparkled as his eyes twinkled. His wrinkle-free shirt and tie had a long day as he lovingly juggled a room full of adolescents.
Wells thought, Be calm and collected. You’re the fire brigade captain, not a teenage girl waiting for her high school crush to ask her to the prom!
Mr. Saunders addressed Wells directly with his commanding, deep voice. Wells swooned as he imagined this stern yet compassionate teacher teaching him a lesson or two.
“Hello. My name’s Jacob. The kids call me Mr. Saunders. I’ve noticed you picking up Emily when her dad was working. It’s nice that she has someone as punctual and caring as you are looking after her. Would you give her father this invitation for me? It’s for career day. I’m inviting students’ parents to come into class and talk about their careers. I know Mr. Tucker is a fireman, and it would be nice if one of our local heroes would come in and educate the students about the occupation.” Wells was so flummoxed by the butterflies in his stomach that he couldn’t speak. Rather than giving him an articulate reply to the invitation. The words, “Gotcha. Will do. I’ll give him the invite,” stumbled out of his mouth.
Mr. Saunders nodded appreciatively and turned to walk back to his classroom. Wells caught himself staring at Mr. Saunders’s impressively round, attractive glutes as he headed across the yard. He was grateful that Emily couldn’t hear his thoughts as an entire litany of naughty fantasies ran through his head.
Wells snapped out of his dirty daydream when Emily proclaimed, “He’s so nice, isn’t he?” Wells replied immediately, “Yes, he certainly IS NICE.”
Wells knew it was wrong to use Emily to do his recon, but he didn’t know any other way to determine whether Mr. Saunders was coupled or not. As Emily gleefully sat waiting to be taken to her father, Wells opened a can of Red Bull energy drink and causally inquired, “Emily, do you know if there is a… Mrs. Saunders?” Emily instantly answered, “Mr. Saunders is a homo, just like you, Uncle Wells!”
Wells choked on his drink and spat it all over the interior of his truck. After regaining his composure, he continued somewhat sternly inquiring. “Emily, why would you call us that?”
Emily smiled innocently and explained, “Oh, Uncle, don’t tell me you don’t know that there are lots of different “sexuals.” There are heterosexuals, homosexuals, bisexuals, transsexuals… and lots more. Would you like me to tell you about them all?”
Wells fought the urge to laugh as he instructed her, “You’re right, Emily. I forgot about all the different “sexuals. But, in the future, you may not want to abbreviate those words when describing someone.”
Emily was satisfied with that response and again reminded Wells to hurry so that she could get home to her dad.
***
Arriving at the firehouse was Emily’s favorite part of her day. She was popular at the station, where the firefighters took turns spoiling her with hugs, treats, and gifts.
As Emily amused herself on the truck, Wells handed Keith the letter he had received earlier. “This is from Emily’s teacher. He asked if you would talk to her classmates about your job. She told them you’re a firefighter, and they want to meet you.” Keith laughed, “Isn’t this the dude you’re hot for? It sounds like the perfect opportunity for you to get better acquainted with this guy. I’m sure Emily wouldn’t mind if you took my place and spoke to the class.” Wells instantly started making excuses. “No. I mean, yes, this is the teacher I like, but you’re Emily’s dad. He wants YOU to talk to the students. Not me!” Keith put a reassuring arm around Wells. “Dude, you seriously need to find a man. We all love you here, but you got to get yourself a boyfriend. This guy is perfect for you. I’ll talk to Emily and see if she minds you standing in for me.” Keith flashed Wells the same smile that broke a dozen young woman’s hearts as he mischievously winked and teased, “You’re Kansas City’s second sexiest firefighter. What are you afraid of?”
Wells chuckled as he politely disagreed with his buddy about who should be first. “I’m THE sexiest firefighter. You’re solidly in second place. I appreciate the confidence, but honestly, it’s a bad idea. I’m not this guy’s type.” Keith decided he wasn’t accepting any answer other than a “yes” from Wells. “Dude. You can’t be afraid of rejection. You run into burning buildings. You don’t flinch in the face of death. You’re a badass. I have every confidence that you could muster the courage to ask some cute middle school teacher out on a date.”
***
A week had passed, and career day was upon them. All the students were excited to have their friends and family come in to talk about their occupations. Emily was especially excited since she had a special request for Wells that day; she had asked him to please do his presentation in his firefighting uniform. Wells wasn’t sure about showing up in his gear, but he was determined to make Emily happy and to give a good presentation, so he agreed to wear his uniform.
***
Three o’clock arrived, and his allotted time slot was almost upon him. Wells clunkily walked down the school’s hall to room 316, where he was scheduled to appear. A quick knock on the door signaled to the teacher he had arrived and was ready to address the class. Mr. Saunders unlocked the door and opened it, finding Wells standing stoically in his caption’s hat, boots, and yellow uniform.
Mr. Saunders gasped as he proclaimed, “Oh, wow. Look at you!”
Wells instantly apologized, assuming it was too much and inappropriate to be wearing his regalia in the classroom.
Mr. Saunders fumbled over his words, clearly flustered. “No. No. This is wonderful. I know the students will enjoy experiencing the authenticity of having a real firefighter in the classroom!” Wells felt better at Mr. Saunders’s reassuring words and comforting smile. “Let’s get you introduced. The kids are certainly in for a treat, as am I.”
Wells was escorted to the front of the class and invited to make his presentation. Emily beamed with pride as Wells talked about her second father and the other men who worked passionately to protect the town’s citizens and their homes. Students waved their hands, eager to ask questions of the giant, handsome hero in front of the room. Kelly McKee was the first to be picked and wondered, “Where do you live? Do you sleep at the firehouse?”
Wells smiled as he answered, “Most firefighters live at home with their families. When an alarm goes off, they rush out of bed and into the station so that they may gear up and get on the truck to respond to the fire. I am the captain, so I have an apartment on the top floor of the firehouse. That’s where I live.”
The room erupted again as students begged, “pick me, pick me!” Ralphie Thomson was next with the question, “Do you really slide down a pole to get to the truck, or is that just in the movies?”
Wells’ nerves had calmed down, and he began to enjoy answering the questions as he replied. “It’s true. We have a brass pole that goes from the top floor down to the truck. It’s the fastest way to get from the third floor to street level.”
Mr. Saunders informed the students that the day was over and there was only time for one more question. Wells could see Emily’s hand raised. It surprised him that she wanted to ask a question since she already knew so much about the profession. Wells couldn’t pass up Emily, so he chose her to ask him her question. “I know you’re all so brave and all, but is there anything you’re afraid of?” Her inquiry stumped Wells. He stopped and thought for a minute before replying.
After a quick consideration, he confidently smiled and explained, “Yes. I get afraid. Fear protects us. It would be dangerous to be unafraid of scary things. The important thing is how you handle being afraid and the decisions you make when confronted with fear.”
Mr. Saunders smiled at Well’s answer. He was pleased with the intelligent and thoughtful response he gave the class. He then joined Wells in the front of the room. “Sorry, students, the day is over. Let’s finish and thank everyone for their time. We must get ready to go home soon.”
***
All the other students and parents had left when Mr. Saunders approached Wells to express his gratitude for his time. “You certainly were a hit today. I am grateful for your wisdom and expertise. I especially enjoyed your answer when Emily asked, “Is there anything you were afraid of?”
Wells bashfully looked down to avoid eye contact. He knew the butterflies in his stomach would start fluttering if their eyes met again. Wells took a deep breath and replied, “Thank you for having me here today. It surprised me, too, when Emily asked if there was anything I was afraid of. I’m glad my answer seemed appropriate for the students, although it wasn’t complete.”
Mr. Saunders hesitantly inquired, “I’m sorry to ask you this, and maybe I shouldn’t. But what is the complete answer to the question, “Is there anything you’re afraid of?”
Wells took a deep breath, paused, looked Mr. Saunders directly in the face, and stated, “Frankly, I’m afraid that if I ask you on a date, you may say no.” Wells exhaled with a mighty sign, grateful to have gotten that burden off his chest.
Mr. Saunders blushed as he looked around the room for a rogue ear listening to them speak. He readied himself to answer, “Wells, I’m an educated man. Only a fool would say no to a date with you.”
Wells nervously laughed, “Wonderful! How’s Friday? I can make dinner at the station. The guys tell me I’m quite the cook!”
Mr. Saunders found Wells’ flustered response surprising and endearing. How could this massive hunk of a man be so nervous around someone like me? “I’ll be looking forward to Friday night, then. I’m guessing I’ll meet you at the firehouse?” he wondered.
Wells shot back, “Yes, that’s where I live. The guys go home at seven, so the place will be all ours for the night. That is unless there’s a fire that we need to attend to.”
Emily started pulling on Wells’ shirt, eager to leave and see her dad. Wells knew it was time to go, so he gave Mr. Saunders one last bashful glance before heading home.
***
Friday evening arrived. The firefighters took turns teasing Wells about his big date that night and how anxious he was about it all day.
Keith was quick to quiet the guys down. “Hey, give a guy a break. I remember when you all met your girlfriends and wives. You were just as nervous!” Keith wrapped his imposing arm around his buddy, pulling him in tightly as he squeezed and assured him, “Bro. You’re an awesome guy. Be yourself, and he’ll love you–if he doesn’t, we know where his house is–he’ll have Kansas city’s entire fire brigade to answer to!”
Wells playfully freed himself from Keith’s powerful grasp and thanked him for his sweet yet disturbing sentiment. Wells once again insisted all the men go home for the night so he could finish preparing for his date.
***
It was seven o’clock when a knock on the big oak doors of the firehouse signaled Mr. Saunders had arrived.
Wells thought, Perfect timing! Hopefully, this goes well, and we won’t be disturbed by an emergency tonight! Fingers crossed!
Wells was on the top floor of his apartment when he heard the knock. He anxiously leaped for the pole in the center of the floor and quickly slid three stories down to the ground level where the truck was parked.
With a mighty heave, the large, heavy door creaked open, revealing Mr. Saunders dressed casually in a button-down shirt and blue chino slacks. He was holding a bottle of vintage wine and smiled innocently. He chuckled as he handed the bottle to Wells, saying, “I hope red pairs with the dinner you’re preparing. It’s supposed to be a terrific year.” Wells’ heart skipped at the sight of this shy, sweet, nerdy man. “Red’s perfect. Thank you for bringing the bottle. I can’t wait to open it. Dinner’s almost ready, so if you’d like to follow me upstairs, we can eat, and then later, I can give you a tour of the station.” Wells was amused at seeing his date, looking around wide-eyed with amazement at the station’s large red trucks and equipment. He was clearly impressed with what he saw. Who wouldn’t be? Firehouses are every man’s fascination. Why should his date be any different?
***
Three flights up were an easy trek. Each of the men was in their late twenties and in excellent physical shape. When they reached Wells’ apartment, Mr. Saunders noted how much he appreciated the tasteful décor and the aromatic smells coming from the kitchen.
“Wow. You weren’t kidding when you said you were a good cook. It all smells fantastic.”
Wells humbly responded, “The men always enjoy the meals I prepare for them. They work and train hard; the least I could do is to treat them to something delicious at the end of the day.”
Now it was Mr. Saunders who had butterflies in his stomach. How did I get so lucky? He wondered. A hulking, handsome firefighter who’s thoughtful, kind, and can cook?
Wells expertly opened the wine and set the table in preparation to eat. “Best to let the bottle breathe. We want to get as much of the full-bodied flavor out of it as possible.”
Mr. Saunders was grateful he was with a fireman at that moment since he was clearly overheating at the sight of Wells. He knew that if the fire he was experiencing himself wasn’t extinguished soon, he’d burst into flames.
Wells was feeling his temperature rise, too–he was hot for teacher and had to do something about it quickly.
The two men stood silent, facing the other for what seemed to be a desperately long time without saying a word. Neither of them was sure who would make the first move. One thing was obvious; they were both smoldering and about to burst. Mr. Saunders made the first move as he slowly leaned forward, lips pursed, eyes closed, hungry to feel Wells’ mouth pressed against his. The sudden blaring of the fire alarm caused Mr. Saunders to jump nearly out of his skin. The siren was short and ended quickly, but it was enough to scare the bejesus out of him. Short of breath, as his heart raced, he couldn’t help but think.
What terrible luck! Just as my fire started raging, another breaks out in town!
“I guess you will need to respond to that,” Mr. Saunders stated with obvious disappointment. Wells laughed. “No. That’s just one alarm. Nothing urgent; my buddy Keith and the guys can handle it. I’m still yours for the night.”
“You’re mine for the night? I like the way that sounds!” Mr. Saunders replied with a glint in his eye. Wells was suddenly cool and collected. He knew that this date was going to go well, and he was right about Mr. Saunders; they were a perfect pairing, and he was about to ace this date with him. Wells playfully continued, “Yup. The only blaze I intend to respond to this evening is the one in my bed with you.”
Mr. Saunders wasn’t shy about what was being promised to him as he added, “Well, that’s nice to hear. I’m guessing we’ll have an eight-alarm fire tonight.” Wells laughed as he explained, “Alarms only go up to five. Not eight.” Mr. Saunders took Well’s hand and placed it firmly on the front of his pants.
Wells knew how to follow instructions, so he happily complied. Who was he to argue with a teacher? He was well aware of what he was being instructed to do. With a hearty squeeze, he realized the magnitude of Mr. Saunders’s pun. Indeed, he was correct. Eight it was!
Wells quickly took him by the hand and escorted him into his bedroom as he explained, “Being a firefighter, I’m an expert in getting out of my clothes quickly, but somehow, tonight, I just can’t seem to do it fast enough.” Mr. Saunders wholeheartedly agreed as the two men rapidly disrobed, eager to quench the fire burning within them as they tumbled into Wells’ nearby bed. Their bodies were locked together in a fiery embrace. They knew the blaze they felt in their hearts wouldn’t be extinguished quickly.
***
Wells ended up burning their dinner that night, which was fine with them since what they were hungry for wasn’t originally on the menu.

The post The Fearless Fireman appeared first on JC Calciano.

World’s Greatest Lover

Garrett couldn’t wait to start his new job at Paramount Pictures as the assistant to the Head of Production. It was his first day, and he was excited to be working for the studio responsible for some of the most influential films of the twentieth century. His boss, Howard Zusman, was a salty older man who had seen and done it all. He was in charge of ensuring that all the movies got made on budget and stayed on schedule; he ran the studio and its services. Garrett knew he had a lot to learn about the craft of moviemaking from him and was grateful to work for someone with as much experience as he had. This was Garrett’s big break.

He moved to Los Angeles only a year before to start a new life. Garrett was bashful and awkward as a child and still hadn’t fully grown out of that phase. He was 21 years old with a quirky yet adorable style about him. His clothes were dull and his hair uncut, but with his disheveled style, he exuded an undeniable charm. Garrett knew he was lucky to have secured the job at the studio. He had met Mr. Zusman at an industry event where Howard was the guest speaker. The two men began talking about their love for science fiction and monster movies. Howard said he saw a lot of himself in Garrett and offered to take him under his wing at the studio by making him his assistant.

***

As adorable as Garrett was, his bashful nature and almost crippling insecurities made it impossible for him to find love. Growing up in his small town, he had never met a person he connected with, so he was still inexperienced in love and the art of love-making.

***

Across the hall in his one-bedroom apartment lived a man roughly his age named Silvan. Loud and gregarious, Silvan was a true sportsman and the building “bro”. You name it, Silvan played it. Silvan and Garrett’s apartment faced each other, and whenever Silvan’s door would open, Garret would rush over to look through the peephole in order to get a glimpse of him. Garrett hoped to one day gather the courage to say more than a casual hello to him and wished that their relationship would evolve into more than just a passing friendship.

***

The alarm rang at 7 AM, and Garrett sprung up from the bed like a piston. Today was a big day for him, and he would not be late for work! Freshly showered, Garrett attempted to dress his best. He searched everywhere to find something that wasn’t frumpy and distressed. It was no use; he knew that whatever he wore, he’d look like a dork.

At 7:30 sharp, Garrett darted out the front door of his apartment. As he locked the door and turned, he found himself chest to chest with Silvan. A wide, bright smile greeted him as Silvan enthusiastically wished him a good morning.

“Word in the building is that you got a job at Paramount! Congrats, man. That’s awesome. Well, break a leg, as they say in the movie business. If you’re not too beat from your first day, knock on my door. I’ll throw back a brew with you,” Sylvan told him.

Garrett bashfully looked away from Silvan. He knew eye contact with this brawny bro would just make his heart flutter and his brain turn to mush. He dreaded saying something silly to this sexy stud. Rather than answering Silvan directly, he just mumbled towards the floor, “Thank you. Very nice of you to offer. I’ll probably be too tired, but I appreciate you inviting me over.” Garrett made haste in exiting. He was eager to get to the studio and away from the man who made him so flustered.

***

The impressive, iconic Paramount gates caused Garrett’s eyes to go wide. He had always fantasized about the day he’d drive up to the guard at the entrance, give his name, and be welcomed into the lot.

***

Garrett’s new boss, Howard Zusman, was already in the office when he arrived. “Come in kid. Glad to see you’re on time.” Garrett eagerly sat in the office, awaiting his first task. Howard was on a phone call with United Talent Agency and couldn’t properly give him the attention he deserved on his first day. “Sorry, I don’t have time to talk to you right now. I’m dealing with this idiot agent. Why don’t you head to the prop warehouse just behind soundstage 9? Familiarize yourself with the place and how things are organized. Soon, we’ll need to clean out the old crap in there. We’ve got stuff from 1912 that should have been thrown out a century ago. See what’s there and let’s meet about it tomorrow. I’m going home early today, so come talk to me when you get in tomorrow morning, and we’ll talk more then.” Garrett was happy to comply with Howard’s order. His first day, and he’d get to dig around the old studio prop house? What an incredible adventure this will be!

***

Garrett left Zusman’s office and walked past the soundstages. The studio was quiet today. All the productions were shooting elsewhere, and the lot was still. Garrett reached the massive warehouse at the end of the lane and pushed open the tremendous loading doors to gain entry. With a flick of an old switch, the giant warehouse was slowly and methodically flooded with light. The vast space was filled with furniture, artifacts, and props dating back to the silent movie era. It thrilled Garrett to explore this wonderland. It was quiet, and brimming with everything he loved from the movies he’d watched as a child. Crates of old paint lined the walls, as did old lights, equipment, props, and artifacts. Holy crap, is that the robot from Forbidden Planet? Next to Robbie the Robot was the costume from The Creature From The Black Lagoon.

Crates of green gelatin used to create the special effects for the movie The Blob were tucked behind tall shelves of knickknacks.

Far in the back of the room, behind an old backdrop, the edge of a very cool-looking steam-punk-styled device could was visible. Garrett couldn’t wait to investigate what it was. After clearing what seemed to be a mountain of boxes was a treasure beyond compare. What movie could this be from? Probably something from the 1920s. How ornate it is! It looks like an old-time machine. Who could want to throw these riches in the trash?

***

Garrett resisted the urge at first, but then he could no longer combat the temptation to play with the miraculous machine. He climbed into the sled and sat on the seat of the ancient, ornate device. I wonder if this thing still moves like it did when it was built. Garrett had to know just what this magical contraption looked like when activated. He grasped the handles and pushed down on the petals before him. He was concerned at first that he would break it, but then realized it hadn’t been touched in a hundred years, so there was no harm in playing with the old machine. As Garrett pedaled, the giant ornate wheel behind him turned. At first, it took quite a bit of strength to start the mechanism, but once the enormous wheel started spinning, the centrifugal force made peddling easier and more manageable. The large wheel whirled faster and faster until it whistled, then it hummed. The gyroscope spun rapidly, generating electricity for the myriad of lights, dials, and gauges that adorned the fanciful mechanism. THIS IS THE COOLEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN! Garrett couldn’t help himself. He peddled faster and faster, amazed at the delightful light show the machine emitted as he pushed it to its limits. Please don’t blow apart into a million pieces; he prayed as he peddled faster and faster. The machine arced, snapped, and sputtered as electricity sparked off the metal chassis. The engine was now powered up, and Garrett realized he had crossed a threshold; he was no longer in control of the device. How do I stop this thing? Garrett panicked. No sooner did he realize that the machine now had a life of its own did it emit a loud blinding light and guttural thumping boom!

***

Garrett wasn’t sure if he had blacked out or if the blinding light had just startled him. Whatever the case, he was disoriented. What added to his confusion was that the once messy storage room brimming with props was now tidy and organized.

What happened here? I must have been knocked out for a while. Something weird is happening.

Garrett climbed off the machine after the wheel spun to a stop and he began snooping around for answers to the mystery of why the once cluttered space was now empty.

***

As Garrett emerged from the warehouse and into the daylight, he was surprised to see the old, quiet soundstages were now brimming with life. The studio looked brand new and teamed with workers, actors, and movie equipment. As Garrett’s eyes adjusted to the bright California sun, a disarmingly handsome Italian man about his age with dark, short, slicked-back hair wearing a brilliantly tailored European-styled suit approached.

He looked deeply into Garrett’s eyes and put his hand on his shoulder. His deep, hypnotic voice with a heavy accent inquired, “Are you all right? You look pale and confused. The striking man continued. “I’d assume you’re a worker looking for the soundstage we are filming on by the way you’re dressed.” The dashing man quickly apologized. “I’m sorry, but clothes make the man. A fellow’s first impression tells the world who he is. Am I correct in assuming you are a worker?”

Garrett answered, “You are right. I work here, and you’re a movie star by the look of you. I’ve never been on set before. I would love to see the set you’re filming on!”

The dark, sexy stranger answered in a swoon-worthy tone, “I am indeed a humble thespian. We are on Stage 9, right next door. I have just finished my scene and have a brief break. Why don’t you allow me to get you a cold refreshment until your complexion returns? After that, you may accompany me to set for my next shot.” The man’s inviting and sultry eyes were not to be trifled with. Garrett knew that saying no to this handsome actor wouldn’t be right. Plus, why not spend a few minutes getting to know this sexy man better?

***

The two men stepped into the actor’s palatial bungalow. “Please, sit. Make yourself comfortable. Drink this.” The actor handed Garrett a chilled glass of water in an ornate crystal glass. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Rudolph, and what might your name be?”

Garrett didn’t answer at first. The expensive décor and delightful fragrance from dozens of roses distracted him. Who is this guy? He must be an enormous star in Italy. Garrett snapped out of his thoughts and answered. “I’m sorry. My name’s Garrett. Today’s my first day working here.”

“Well, Garrett, welcome to the movie business. It’s quite an exciting profession. One day, I hope to be behind the camera like you probably aspire to do. I’d like to direct, but for now, it seems my fortune is to be found in front of the lens.”

Garrett could see why this man was a star; he was as charismatic as he was good-looking. Garrett joked, “If I looked like you, I’d be an actor as well, but for guys like me, we should stay behind the scenes.”

The self-deprecating statement surprised Rudolph as he joined Garrett on the couch. “You should never speak poorly of yourself. You have a beautiful smile and a… how do you say… precious energy coming from your heart.”

Garrett wasn’t sure if it was the heavy Italian accent, the sultry brown eyes, or the invitingly sincere smile, but he knew this man intrigued him and he was desperate to get to know him better.

Rudolph gently placed his hand on Garrett’s chest as he whispered. “Love starts from within your own heart. Cherish yourself as if you were the rarest of diamonds, and all the world will desire you.”

What lovely words, indeed, a message to live by. Is this man seducing me? Garrett wondered as he could feel his heart beating heavily and his head swooning.

Soon all his thoughts of inadequacy disappeared as Rudolf placed his tender, sweet lips on his and softly stated, “I can see you are nervous. Don’t be. You’re an impressive young man. It would be my privilege to introduce you to the world of pleasure. Lay back and allow me to explore you.”

Garrett breathed deeply as he reclined, allowing this sensitive stud to discover him. He wasn’t sure where the experience would take him, but it didn’t matter. He was fully committed to being one with this passionate stranger.

***

Rudolf’s tender, firm touch and powerful grasp made for an experience that Garrett could never have imagined possible. “The key to happiness is to put all your energy into living, laughing, and loving. Savor every second. Don’t waste a bit. Gulp–don’t sip from the fountain of life.” Garrett fully understood those words and was liberated from his thoughts of self-doubt and insecurity. Why be concerned with the negative when you can spend your time embracing the positive? The two men spend the afternoon making love and exploring each other’s bodies and souls. The experience was dreamlike and unforgettable.

After an hour of unrelenting passion, Garrett was exhausted. He lay in the bed as if he had sampled the entire bounty life offered. Rudolf was casually nestled beside him, pleased to see that he gave his lover an experience he’d long remember.

It was mid-afternoon when a knock on the bungalow door came. An enthusiastic, high-pitched voice followed it. “Mr. Valentino. The assistant director sent me. He wanted to let you know you’re wrapped for the day. We decided to shoot your love scene tomorrow instead of today. Here is a call sheet with your arrival time tomorrow. I’ll slip it under the door. Have a wonderful night!”

Rudolph called out to the voice outside, “Thank you. Have a wonderful evening. See you in the morning.”

Garrett joked, “Lucky for you that you don’t need to shoot another love scene.”

Rudolph replied without flinching. “Love is what I do. Pleasure is the air I breathe, and sex is the nourishment that feeds my soul.”

Wow. No wonder you’re so good at it. Garrett thought to himself as he silently chuckled.

As Garrett put the first and last names together, he became even more confused. Rudolph… Valentino? How strange that this young, handsome Italian man would assume the same identity as the world’s most famous lover? Presumptuous, Garrett thought, but if the shoe fits.

The assistant slid a sheet of paper under the door as promised. It was tomorrow’s call sheet. It listed everything a crew member would need to know to prepare for the next day. Rudolph casually tossed the bed sheets off himself and nonchalantly walked over to the door. As he strutted naked across the room, Garrett couldn’t take his eyes off this perfectly proportioned European stud.

He’s certainly built for sex. Garrett thought as he pondered if he should suggest another session with this stud. Rudolph turned to return to bed. The front view of Rudolph was just as good, if not better than the back view. Garrett observed as Rudolph slipped back under the covers.

***

“Wonderful. I don’t need to arrive to set until 10 am. Since you’re also working on this film, would you like to see what time the crew is to arrive?” Rudolph casually inquired as he handed Garrett the paper with the movie’s information.

The film’s title clearly stated “Cobra,” with Rudolf Valentino listed as the lead actor. The date next to the title was “1923”. Garrett was speechless.

The date was exactly 100 years earlier than today’s date! Could this all be an elaborate hoax? Was he dreaming this entire experience, or was it possible that the rickety old machine he discovered in the cluttered prop room was really a time machine that he rode a century into the past to have his first sexual experience with THE Rudolph Valentino?

“Your face is white again. Are you well? You look like when I found you. Very disoriented.” Rudolf was concerned as he grasped his hand to comfort him.

Garrett knew he needed to return to the prop warehouse as soon as possible to find the time machine. “I’m sorry, I must be going. I shouldn’t be here. I have to leave now.” He kissed Rudolf intensely one last time so that he may have a lasting taste of his lover on his lips as he made haste out of the bungalow.

***

Garrett dashed out of Valentino’s bungalow and ran back to the old prop warehouse, where he found the large apparatus, he rode in from the future, sitting in the corner right where he left it.

Thank God no one touched it. Now, what to do? 

He examined the machine and found a dial on the dashboard that set the time and date. The gauge was set to minus 100 years. Garrett didn’t think twice about what to do next. He quickly climbed into the machine and adjusted the dial to the current year. With a mighty heave, he feverishly pedaled, hoping the device could still do what it did hours earlier; travel in time.

***

As the large fly-wheel spun, the antique lights glowed and pulsated. The machine began sputtering; it whirred and hummed intensely.

Suddenly, a deep voice from the other side of the warehouse shouted out, “Hey, you, get away from that thing. We just bought that from Nikola Tesla. It’s not a toy!” The husky old gentlemen ran towards Garrett. He was agitated and determined to stop anyone from using the studio’s newly gained prop.

Garrett knew this would be his only opportunity to return home; to the time when and where he belonged. As a science fiction fan, he was all too aware of the dangers of altering the timeline and the repercussions of changing past events. Getting stuck in the past would wreak havoc on the timeline and cause irreparable damage to the future.

Garrett peddled frantically, praying with each thrust that he’d reach the required speed to activate the device once more before the imposing man forced him to stop. He pushed himself, driving the machine’s giant wheel to spin wildly. The lights pulsated, and the sparks flew frantically as the angry man approached.

The burly worker grabbed a broomstick and prepared to thrust it into the spokes of the exposed, spinning wheel. He was only a foot away, and disaster was imminent, just as the machine heaved and discharged a sonic boom and blinding flash of light. The furious man was tossed backward onto the floor as the machine leaped one hundred years into the future in the blink of an eye.

***

All was quiet when Garrett regained consciousness. He had only blacked out for a few seconds. The jolt from the jump disoriented him. As he apprehensively looked around, he could see the warehouse was dark and messy. All seemed to be back to normal; At least, he hoped it was. He asked Siri what year it was. She dutifully answered, “2023.” Garrett felt an immense relief come over him. All was well. Then it occurred to him. Was the machine safe to be left unattended? What if someone were to discover its abilities just as he had? Garrett reached beneath the dashboard, where a small panel was full of small glass tubes. He knew that by removing just one of these tubes, the machine wouldn’t be able to time jump.

Best that I’m the guardian of the machine. I couldn’t imagine what would happen if this machine fell into the wrong hands! Garrett carefully put the small glass transistor in a tiny box and left work for the day.

***

Garrett had a few stops to make on his way home tonight. The first place he needed to visit was a refined men’s shop. With a credit card, he purchased the finest clothes he could afford. Once meticulously dressed, he admired himself in the mirror. Rudolf was right; clothes make the man. Now dressed sharply, he headed to the barber for a haircut and a shave. He went with a classic cut. Timeless; you can’t go wrong with a tight, clean-shaven look. Garrett no longer looked like an unkept assistant, but instead, resembled a dashing leading man. Now to the florist. A lavish bouquet of roses was in order for his next stop. If flowers don’t set the stage, nothing will.

***

He parked out front of his building, and with a confident and excited breath, he rang the doorbell adjacent to his own.

Silvan immediately opened the door. He was surprised to see Garrett standing there, looking so dashing.

Before he could utter a single word, Garrett gazed deeply into his eyes and spoke, “These are for you. We’ve been casual acquaintances for a year now, but I want it to be more. I would like to take you on a proper date if you allow me.” Garrett’s confidence brimmed over. He believed that if he could please Rudolf Valentino on his first go, then chances are, he could also satisfy Silvan.

The reply couldn’t come fast enough. “I’d love that!” Silvan shouted. “I’m flattered that someone as sexy and sweet as you would want to take me out. Just name the time and day you’d like to get dinner, and I’ll be ready.”

Garrett boldly replied, “How about now? I’m starving and eager to spend time with you.”

Silvan smiled, “Let me just put these magnificent roses you brought me in a vase, and then I’ll be set,” he replied.

***

The two men had a marvelous date that evening. It began with drinks, a fine dinner at a casual club, and then dancing afterward. After hours of talking, laughing, and getting to know each other better, they once again settled in the hall just outside their respective apartment doors.

“Would you care to come in, or do you have to get up early for work tomorrow?” Garrett felt the evening was already perfect. “Why don’t we plan on seeing each other again this Friday night? Saturday morning, I’ll make you the most amazing pancakes.”

Silvan smiled. “It’s a date then.” Silvan grinned as he sweetly leaned forward, lips puckered, with closed eyes ready for another kiss.

Garrett was happy to meet his lips with his own. They enjoyed a long, tender embrace in the hall in front of their doors. Garrett thought that was nice. Just as I imagined for the last year. I definitely need more of that this weekend!

Silvan admitted, “I had the most incredible time with you tonight. I love the flowers, sharp clothes, and sweet, self-assurance attitude. It’s all working for you, big time! This new job seems to have done wonders for your confidence.”

Garrett smiled knowingly and simply replied to him, “Yes – I truly had an amazing first day.”

The post World’s Greatest Lover appeared first on JC Calciano.

Guy Friday

The flick of a switch enabled the lights in the large penthouse to come alive. The bright luminescence of the ceiling LED fixtures now revealed Julian Ellison in all his glory. Julian was evidently a high roller. His power suit, fancy watch, and polished shoes instantly revealed to the world that he was a man not to be trifled with. He was young and impressive in appearance. His rich, dark skin and even darker hair and eyes made him strikingly handsome. Julian was a man who pushed himself to excess in everything he did. From his morning gym routine to his high-stake negotiations in the board room. He gave everything 110 percent.
***
He was the first to arrive at the office. The vast industrial space was intimidating. A sea of desks lay before him. Computer monitors, office chairs, and cubicles were precisely patterned as far as the eye could see.
Outside his office door was a modest desk with various personal items. This must be my assistant’s space. I’m eager to see who’ll be working so closely with me, he thought as he helped himself to his new large corner office and closed the door. Julian smiled, surmising that everyone in the building was jealous of this office. He opened the small box of personal items he had brought with him to make the space cozy.
The first item to be unpacked was a small plant. Something alive and green helps make a sterile space inviting, he thought. Then a framed photo of his family; Best to always keep your loved ones nearby. Then finally, he removed a trophy from when he was the college regatta champion from the box.
Julian knew displaying an award for a past accomplishment was a bit brash. But there was a strategy behind it. Often, workers are intimidated when meeting the boss for the first time. He finds that a personal item revealing a bit about the past is a helpful conversation starter and icebreaker when necessary.
***
A presence soon disturbed the deafening silence in the cavernous office space. What was just a distant, faint hum from the copy machines now gave way to the stirring of a co-worker entering the area. Julian continued setting up his space and familiarizing himself with his surroundings. The sounds coming from the entrance of the staff that would soon serve under him did not bother him.
The noises from the person arriving in the space grew louder. It wasn’t a minute later that a loud, rapid knock was present outside his door. “Come in!” Julian replied as kindly as he could.
The door swung open quickly to reveal a fresh-faced, enthusiastic young man. Although the two men were similar in age, they couldn’t appear more different. Whereas Julian was intense, deliberate, and sophisticated, Brandon was soft-spoken, awkward, and casual. Brandon’s fair, freckled skin and light brown hair were a sharp contrast to Julian’s flawless, mahogany completion and deliberate, strong features. Brandon looked like he stepped off a surfboard and into an inexpensive suit compared to Julian, who looked like he casually strolled out of the display window at Brooks Brothers men’s shop.
Brandon held up two Starbuck coffees, both labeled with his name on them. He eagerly explained himself to his new boss, “I was afraid you’d beat me into the office today, and I wouldn’t have time to brew a fresh pot of coffee for you, so I stopped at Starbucks to pick you up one just in case. That is–IF you drink coffee. If you’d prefer tea, I’ll happily get that for you, too.”
Julian sat for a second with a confused, blank look on his face as he tried to make sense of what this young man was talking about. Brandon realized that his new boss did not know who he was. With an awkward giggle, he then introduced himself. “Oops, sorry. I’m Brandon, your new assistant. It’s nice to meet you. Do you take sugar and cream?” Brandon put the coffee on Julian’s desk in front of him and then reached into his pockets to pull out several packets of sugar and small containers of cream. The cream’s warm now since it was in my pockets. It’s better that way. It doesn’t cool down the coffee!”
Julian couldn’t help but find Brandon adorable in a quirky, innocent way. He couldn’t help but smile as Brandon fumbled with the stirrers as he attempted to place one in his coffee.
“Nice to meet you, Brandon. Very kind of you to bring me a coffee. It’s just the way I like it. Now sit. Please join me as you drink your coffee. We should get to know each other better.”
Brandon hadn’t expected his new boss to be such a stud. People rarely intimidated him. But today, at this moment, he suddenly found himself tongue-tied. Was it Julian’s tight dress shirt that showed off his square chest and bulging biceps, or his snug slacks that revealed his spectacularly shaped, muscular ass?
“I really should get my desk ready for a busy day. I’ve got lots to do in order to get you situated,” Brandon noted.
Julian dismissed what Brandon said as he casually leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Since you work for me, the only thing you need to do now is to relax and enjoy a coffee with me.”
Brandon complied by sitting in the chair in front of his boss. He tried not to look anxious or flustered, but the way he nervously stirred his coffee gave away the butterflies multiplying in his stomach. Brandon tried to make small talk by casually noticing the trophy on the desk in front of him. “I see you were on your college rowing team! Me too; how cool is that?”
Julian confidently smiled. He knew his trophy was doing its job by inviting an off-the-cuff conversation. “Yup. First place three years in a row. I know I’m bragging, but I can’t help it. I’m super proud of that accomplishment. The other teams we were up against were amazing. How we beat them was quite an accomplishment.”
Brandon signaled that he’d like to inspect the trophy closer.
Julian nodded it was okay to pick it up and examine it.
Brandon chuckled as he continued, “I think I rowed on one of those teams you’re talking about. I was on the Strathmore team in 2020.”
Julian smiled. “Get out of here! Really? I remember that team. You gave us a fight, alright. I’m impressed I’ve got a fellow crew person working here. What position were you?”
Brandon proudly replied, “Coxswain–and you?”
Julian suddenly had a lot more respect for the man across from his desk as he replied, “Same here.”
Brandon couldn’t help but ask, “You’re a big guy for a cox. You’re all muscle and height; what are you pushing six foot three?”
Julian liked this dude more by the second. “Yup. I’m six-three, and thanks for noticing that I keep up with my fitness routine. I guess all the guys in the boat were my size. I didn’t seem any bigger than my other crew members. I was considered the runt of the group”
Brandon didn’t realize just how comfortable he had gotten with Julian when he absentmindedly blurted out, “If you were the runt of the team, then that’s a locker room, I wouldn’t have minded showering in!”
Julian sipped his coffee just as Brandon made his declaration. His immediate reaction was to laugh, causing him to spill his coffee onto his shirt.
It appalled Brandon to see that he had caused his new boss to stain his crisp white shirt.
“Oh, my gosh! I’m so sorry. What was I thinking? I don’t know why I said that. What a crazy thing to just blurt out!” Julian assured Brandon it was fine. “No, it’s not!” Brandon insisted. “Look at you. We’ve got to get you a new shirt immediately. You can’t start your day here with coffee all over you!”
Julian agreed. Something needed to be done about the shirt before anyone else arrived. Julian immediately removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. With a quick sweeping motion, he was standing there bare-chested.
Brandon gasped. “Dude. I knew you were built, but wow. You’re seriously ripped!”
Julian blushed at the compliment. “Thank you. I’m glad you approve of what you see. Now, let’s get this shirt to the men’s room where we can run it under some water before the stain sets in.”
Brandon conceded to act quickly, but not before remarking on the tattoo on Julian’s right pectoral muscle. The artwork was a compass with two crossed oars. “Sweet ink,” Brandon stated. I’ve got a similar one on my arm. Only it says, “bi-sweptual.”
Julian knew the double meaning of the term and wasted no time in responding. “Let’s see it.” He requested. Brandon bashfully replied, “I can’t roll my sleeves up that high. I’ll have to take my shirt off to show you.” Julian didn’t seem to mind. “I’ve got my shirt off. It’s only fair you take off yours.”
It surprised Brandon that his new boss asked him to disrobe in the office. Brandon knew it was best to comply with his wishes, so he slowly removed his shirt. He knew that since Julian was a fellow crew person; he was aware of the meaning behind the term bi-sweptual: a rower that could sweep oar on both port and starboard.
“Nice tattoo!” Julian complimented the design. “I must admit, it looks good on your large, impressively formed bicep muscle.”
It was now clear that Julian was flirting with him. Brandon instantly wondered. Is it okay for me to be turned on by my boss?
As the two men stood shirtless in the office. The sexual tension was palpable. Julian broke the tension by looking down and noting, “Oh no. It looks like I’ve got coffee on my slacks as well.” Brandon semi-innocently replied, “Take them off. We need to rinse those off, too.”
Julian agreed it was best to wash them as well, so the two men headed to the executive washroom to attend to the stains. Once inside and near the sink, Julian slipped off his pants and proposed, “Why don’t you scrub the shirt? I’ll work on the slacks.”
***
As Julian attended to the garments in the sink, Brandon couldn’t help but steal a few glances in the mirror when Julian was preoccupied with the hand dryer.
Snug-fitted undies, a ripped body, and a hairy chest are just too much for me to handle today. How will I ever get any work done with a boss as hot as this? Brandon wondered.
“I can see you checking me out in the mirror.” Julian chided. “Don’t worry. It’s cool because I’m checking you out, too.”
Oh, man, I could just die! Was Brandon’s first reaction to Julian’s statement. Brandon quickly realized that his boss had just admitted to checking him out. Is this really going where I think it is? Is this a good idea? Brandon wasn’t sure what the best way to handle the situation was. I should just confront it head-on. What’s the worst thing that could happen if I make a move on his boss? Would he fire me? Heck, it’s worth it for fifteen minutes alone in the stall with this stud! Brandon was resolved in his decision on how to proceed as he simply cleared his throat and flatly stated. “Hell yeah, I’m checking you out. You’re crazy sexy. How can you blame me for checking out your fine body?”
Julian was quick to reply. “I don’t blame you at all. I’m just wondering if you liked what you saw. Now that I know, maybe we should do something about it. That is–before anyone else shows up at the office.”
Julian wasted no time in scooping Brandon up in his arms. “Are you sure you want this? This is against office policy.”
Brandon flirtatiously replied, “Don’t YOU make the office policy here?
Julian mischievously answered, “True. I do. I think it’s about time I changed that policy.”
Julian was quick to unbutton Brandon’s shirt and wrap his arms around his bare midsection as he kissed him softly. Brandon unfastened his belt and quickly pulled it through the hoops, tossing it onto the floor. Julian smiled at the sight of Brandon standing in the center of the restroom with his pants around his ankles. “Can I help you take off those shoes?” he asked seconds before he effortlessly lifted Brandon and sat him on the marble countertop next to the sink. Slowly and methodically, he untied his shoes, savoring his complete disrobing. “Now that the shoes and pants are gone, it’s just a matter of these pesky boxers.” Julian affectionately grabbed Brandon’s waistband as he prepared to slide the underwear down to the floor.
“Hold on one minute.” Brandon warned, “You go first. I’ll like to see what I’m working with before I agree to anything beyond this.” “Fair enough,” Julian agreed as he confidently slipped his boxer briefs down, then stoically stood still, allowing Brandon to inspect the merchandise.
“Wow. Just wow,” Brandon exclaimed. “It just keeps getting better and better. That piece of equipment is definitely not for the weak-hearted.”
Julian graciously accepted the compliment and queried, “Well, what do you think? Up for the challenge? Can I help you out of those boxers now?” Julian inquired as he eagerly awaited a reply.
Brandon nodded an emphatic “yes” as he lifted himself up by his hands so that Julian could slip off the last shred of clothing that remained.
Julian was now fully turned on, and it was evident to both men. “Looks like I just got a raise from my boss.” Brandon joked.
“You certainly did!” Julian proudly replied as he took Brandon in his arms and effortlessly carried him into the nearby stall to finish what they had started.
***
The two men remained in the large executive washroom for the better part of an hour.
“I’m sure my clothes are dry now, but my body is soaking wet,” Julian teased.
“I’m soaked too,” Brandon teased as he playfully blew off a drop of sweat that had just made its way off his brow and onto the tip of his nose. “That was amazing. If every day starts like this, I’m really going to love this job.”
Julian gave an appreciative smile as he reminded them where they were and that it was now time to get dressed and return to work.
The two men attempted to freshen up as best they could in the sink and get dressed as neatly as possible before returning to their desks. Once back in their clothes, they adjusted the other’s ties and kissed once more.
“What was that for?” Brandon asked, surprised at the impromptu last showing of affection from Julian.
“For bringing me the coffee this morning. That was very thoughtful,” Julian said.
Brandon joked in return, “If that’s what I get for bringing you a coffee, tomorrow I’ll pick you up a pastry!”
Julian held the door open so they could exit the washroom and make their way toward their desks.
“Is there anything else I could get you, boss?” Brandon asked as he settled into his workspace.
“No, thank you. I’m all set for now.” Julian answered as he smiled knowingly, making his way to the chair behind the large oak desk.
***
The lights flickered. On. Off. On. Then off again. Brandon sprung to attention. He knew exactly what that meant. A raspy voice called out loudly. “Are you two done in there? It’s getting late, and I need to clean that office and washroom… again!”
Brandon replied loud enough to be heard by the stern voice who had just yelled out to him. “YES. We’re all set now. We’ll just collect our things and meet you downstairs in five minutes.”
Brandon matter-of-factly got up from his desk and opened the door to the office where Julian now stood.
“I heard him. It looks like we timed that perfectly. That was fun. Our best role-play ever! Let me pack up these items, and we’ll be out of here in a minute.” Julian carefully took the box he had brought with him earlier and placed the personal items he put on the desk two hours ago back into the box. First, the trophy, then the plant, and finally, the family picture. He glanced around the office, carefully returning it to the same condition it was when he found it. “All right, let’s go. You know how Carl gets when we leave him waiting.”
Julian and Brandon headed to the elevator.
***
The elevator reached the lobby, and the doors opened. Carl, the Janitor, was waiting for them. He had just completed mopping the lobby floor and finished preparing the office for the next day. Carl stated in a kind yet stern tone, “I hope you two had fun tonight. I trust you didn’t make too big of a mess up there for me to clean up.”
Brandon was the first to reply. “We barely touched anything in the office. We kept our fun inside the executive washroom.”
Julian was quick to add, “That was a great fantasy. I appreciate you letting us use these offices to play.”
Carl answered, “No need to thank me. For two hundred bucks to use someone’s office after hours, I should thank you.”
Brandon knew it was late, and they needed to be going.
Carl wondered if they’d be wanting to return next week to the office for some more role-playing.
Julian turned to Carl to explain, “We’re not going to be back here next week because my buddy Mario owns a pizzeria and said we could use it next Monday night after hours.”
Carl laughed, “Ah, I get it: the naughty delivery boy. It looks like someone’s going to be ordering a pizza, then?”
Julian knowingly chuckled as he winked at Brandon. “Yeah, that would be me. I plan on getting the extra-large, meat lover’s special–hold the sausage!”

The post Guy Friday appeared first on JC Calciano.

A Haunted House

Eighteen-year-old Mason was stoic, handsome, and imposing for a high-school senior. Because of his size, nobody dared cross him at school. His short, dark hair and big, brown eyes made him impossible to miss. Although Mason had muscular arms and a broad chest, his striking looks were the only thing intimidating about him. Underneath his commanding exterior was a sweet, kind, and innocent young man. Mason had a lot of friends and even more admirers. He was comfortable with his sexuality and was often offered a free sample “of the other side” from the popular girls in his class. Mason chuckled, finding it flattering and sweet that they wanted to hook up with him, but he wasn’t interested in them in the least. Mason was a strict six on the Kinsey scale and a proud, gold star gay. There were several guys in school who shamelessly flirted with him daily, but none of them interested Mason. There was only one man in town that he lusted after, and that was Thad Thompson.

Thad graduated three years ahead of Mason. Their paths first crossed when he was a freshman. Thad was the school’s badass. He wasn’t a bully; he was too cool for that. He was just quiet, strong, and confident like a young Jensen Ackles from the show “Supernatural.” Mason was instantly smitten and hadn’t been able to get his mind off him ever since.

Mason walked past Thad’s house every day on his way to school hoping to catch a glimpse of him outside working on some kind of car, motorcycle, or engine.

Mason knew that if he made his way down Ravenwood Road at seven-thirty sharp, Thad would be in the driveway tinkering. At first, Mason would just hurry by and steal a quick eyeful of his favorite hunk, but eventually, Thad started waving hello at Mason as he passed, and Mason was happy to return the greeting. Now in his final year at school, the two young men exchange a daily pleasant “what’s up” or “good morning” as Mason strolls past the garage.

As much as Mason enjoyed seeing Thad in the mornings, he dreaded walking down Ravenwood Road.

***

The large manor on Ravenwood Road was famous for a series of gruesome murders and terrible things that took place in the 70s. It was so infamous that there were YouTube videos of people going in and never coming out.

The old house sat on a vast plot of land. It was overgrown with weeds and trees, so it was perpetually dark to look into. It has rusted old gates that used to be locked with a chain, but that chain has since been cut off, and now the creaky old iron gates reluctantly grant access to anyone foolish enough to dare enter.

It was an odd shade of murky green, and the shutters were in disrepair. Dark drapes covered the windows that somehow defied breaking. On Halloween night, students threw rocks at the house, but the glass somehow refused to break as if defiant of their taunting. As if that wasn’t odd and scary enough, shadows could be seen moving within the structure through the dark drapery and window dressings. Banging, rattling, and other weird, blood-curling sounds had been noted down the street, making the old estate even that much more terrifying.

***

Mason was a huge fan of horror movies and, ironically, a big scaredy-cat. His fear of everything, including his own shadow, was so well-known by everyone in town that he had been given the unfortunate nickname of ‘Scooby Doo,’ when he was just a boy.

Every day, he confronted his fear of ghosts, demons, and ghouls by forcing himself to walk past the famed Haunted House on Ravenwood Road. As much as Mason hated the place, and it truly terrified him, he knew that if he could face that fear, a prize waited for him the next door down; That prize was seeing Thad Thompson.

***

It was now the end of October and Halloween had finally arrived. It was Mason’s favorite holiday. He anxiously awaited all the horror films that came out that month and watched them faithfully with all the lights on as he remained safely tucked into his bed.

He also relished the ghoulish decorations adorning the homes in the neighborhood, along with the pumpkins, gourds, plastic skeletons, and fake spiderwebs. All that thrilled him, but Mason’s favorite Halloween activity was dressing up to go trick or treating.

This year he had worked hard on his costume. He’d spent extra time in the gym for the last four months, so he was more pumped than usual. His goal was to be perfectly ripped, so he could be THE HULK when trick or treating in the neighborhood. Mason’s hair was naturally dark, and with his new shaggy cut, he perfectly matched the character. Now with his beefy build, tight purple pants, and green make-up, he’d be the hit when out with his friends.

Mason was excited that Halloween fell on a Saturday this year because that meant that Friday would be a big party day. As Mason grabbed his books and headed down Ravenwood Road to return home, the old haunted Karloff estate creeped him out even more than usual. Mason made it a point to never look at the house or dawdle in any way as he passed the majestic manor.

He made it a point just to keep looking forward as he walked by, not to stop until he passed it and reached Thad’s house.

That’s when you can take a break. Not a second before you’re clear of that property, Mason would remind himself.

As Mason rushed past the creepy old house, Thad could be spotted standing shirtless beside an old Harley Motorcycle in the distance. His worn, grease-covered jeans were tight when he leaned forward to adjust the bike’s carburetor. Thad wore motorcycle boots and silver jewelry. Mostly leather wraps and beads around his wrist and neck. His long hair was pulled back and up in a rubber band. He was the epitome of the ‘sexy loner biker bad-boy,’ and Mason loved him for it.

Mason’s heart raced as he daydreamed at the image of holding tightly onto Thad’s shredded, shirtless body and pressing up against him as he sat behind him on that roadster motorcycle. Because his mind was elsewhere, Mason didn’t see the giant stone next to the sidewalk where he was walking. His foot hit the rock hard, causing him to stumble into the street. With a mighty thud, Mason hit the pavement.

Thad immediately rushed over. “Dude, are you okay? That was a bad fall. I could hear you hit the cement.”

Mason was stunned and embarrassed. “I think I’m okay. I didn’t see that rock.”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to move it. My bad, I knew that someone would trip over it one day. Let’s make sure you didn’t break anything.” Thad helped Mason to a seated position and took his leg in his hands. “Carefully, just slowly move it. Let’s make sure it’s not broken.”

Oh, man! This stud holding me, cradling my leg? I’m so turned on right now!

Mason was too busy looking into Thad’s green eyes to pay attention to his pain.

“Well? Does it hurt? Can you move it?” Thad asked emphatically. Mason was too distracted by how sweet and caring Thad was being. He had forgotten he was hurt. “Yeah, I guess I’m okay. I think it just sounded worse than it was.”

Thad insisted, “Let me grab you some crutches. I have a set from when I broke my leg a few years ago. You’re welcome to have them. Hang on while I run inside and grab them.”

Mason quickly replied, “I’m fine – honestly. It’s very nice of you, but unnecessary.” Was Mason really fine, or did he just want to steal a few more minutes cradled in his dream man’s arms? His head pressed against Thad’s powerful chest; he lay comfortably between his legs and didn’t want to move.

Thad insisted, “Try to stand. Let’s see if you can put pressure on it.”

Just a few minutes more of this was all that kept racing through Mason’s head, but his mouth replied, “Okay, let me try to stand and see just how bad it is.”

Although painful when pressure was applied to it, Mason didn’t want to make a big deal of this. He was already embarrassed and nervous being around Thad. The butterflies in his stomach were more distracting than the ankle.

“I’ll drive you home. That’s the least I can do.”

“Please, no. I’m okay. I can easily make it. I only live around the block. You’ve already been too kind.” Mason did his best not to show anything wrong with his ankle as he stood and applied pressure to it. He knew it was badly sprained, but there was no way he wanted Thad to know just how bruised it was.

“Thanks again for your help. I’m good! See you later.” Mason turned and walked away as quickly as he could without limping.

***

Once home. Mason’s mom insisted he apply ice to his ankle and have it looked at by a doctor. A quick visit to urgent care confirmed that it indeed was sprained, and just taping it tightly would be fine so long as he didn’t walk on it.

Fine, Mason thought, everyone’s making a bigger deal of this than really necessary. It’s just a sprain.

***

Mason’s parents insisted he not go trick or treating the next day. As devastated as he was by this request, he knew they were right. Besides, the Incredible Hulk limping around was just plain lame. Rather than going out in costume to trick or treat, he decided to just hide away in his bedroom and try on his Hulk costume instead.

Mason dropped to the floor and began doing pushups to get swole. He could feel his arms and chest getting bigger as he strained to get a good pump on. Once satisfied that his abs, arms, and pecs popped, he stood in front of the mirror and posed shirtless with his tight, purple hulk pants on. Mason wasn’t vain in the least. However, his new muscular physique pleased him. His ridiculously small, tattered purple shorts showcased the impressive equipment god had gifted him. Even he had to admit as he posed and grunted in front of the mirror: He looked pretty damn hot with his biceps thick like softballs and his torso fanned out like a cobra in relation to his slim waist. The now golden daylight coming in from the setting sun, each ab muscle cast a distinct shadow on his stomach, clearly defining his mid-section and square-chested pecs. Yup. All that time at the gym really paid off. Sorry, Hulk. Maybe next year, he lamented. Still, Mason was proud of his accomplishment as he gleefully grunted, GRRRRRR! in the mirror with a modest chuckle.

A text from his buddy, Bob, brought him back to reality. The text read, “Picking you up in an hour for the party tonight. Be ready.” Mason knew that now he needed to rush to make it to the party since he hadn’t even showered yet.

***

Mason’s buddies, Bob and John, were on the wild side. As much as Mason liked hanging out with them and talking about his favorite horror films and sports, they found interest in other things–mainly girls and getting laid.

It was dark when Bob’s car pulled up in front of Mason’s house. A text on Mason’s phone let him know they were waiting for him outside. It simply read, “Scooby, we’re here. You better not chicken out when you find out that we’re partying at the cemetery tonight”. Mason hated being called “Scooby.” He also hated that everyone thought of him as a scaredy-cat. He was bummed that he wasn’t wearing his Hulk costume tonight.

Damn. I wish I had put on that costume. If everyone could see how big and badass I look as the Hulk, they definitely wouldn’t call me Scooby anymore.

***

Mason despised the fact that the party was at the cemetery tonight. Other than at the old Karloff manor on Ravenwood Road, there was nowhere else he’d rather not be on Halloween eve!

As Rob, John, and Mason pulled down the long, dark, quiet dirt road towards the abandoned cemetery, an eerie mist rolled in.

Oh, heck no! Mason thought, anxious to turn around and go home. Before getting too worked up about the scary, thick, grey mist, John exclaimed, “Awesome; they’ve got the fog machines running. How cool is that?”

It was true. Upon closer inspection, fog machines were strategically hidden behind mausoleums to create a thick, rolling mist through the headstones. A DJ had set up a makeshift booth near the old, deserted church, and kegs, cups, and assorted snacks were placed throughout the ancient graveyard.

Mason had to ask because it was just too obvious not to mention, “Guys, don’t you think this is a bit sacrilegious and disrespectful to the dead?”

John wasted no time in shutting him down. “Dude. Really. Don’t be a bummer. This place is ancient. Everything under the ground is rotted and long gone by now. The dead are now dirt. Let it go.”

Mason didn’t feel any better about drinking and partying on people’s gravesites, but it was a party, and he was with everyone he knew from school. He was determined to have a good time and not live up to his Scooby Doo nickname. Plus, if he had to admit it, it was pretty cool what they did here, and it really was the perfect place to celebrate Halloween.

***

The night grew later, and midnight approached. A queasy feeling grew stronger and stronger in the pit of Mason’s stomach.

Maybe It’s the beers, or perhaps I am a chicken, but this is too creepy. I don’t want to be here at midnight. I’m going to slip out and head home before twelve o clock.

Mason quietly headed towards the cemetery entrance without saying anything to anyone, attempting to slip out unseen.

I’ll feel better on the other side of those old gates, at home, and in the safety of my bed, Mason thought as he exited the party. He could hear the laughter and taunting of a group behind him.

“Scooby’s leaving! I told you he wouldn’t last until midnight!” Bob and John howled with laughter.

“It looks like you won the bet! I can’t believe he actually made it until 11:30! “Some girl yelled out loud and clear enough for Mason to hear.

What bet? What is she talking about?

Mason now needed to know why everyone was so tickled by his departure.

Bob fessed up to what was going on, “We took a collection to see who’d guess what time you’d try to split. Everyone’s money was that you’d be too chicken to stay till midnight.”

A deep baritone voice shrieked out above the crowd, “Scooby…dooby…doo!”

Waves of laughter erupted from the crowd so loudly that they drowned out the thumping dance music from the DJ.

As if Mason were the Hulk himself, he could feel the rage building inside him.
“Screw you guys; I’m no chicken! And don’t call me Scooby Doo!”

John stepped up from the group. “Dude, if you say you’re not a chicken, I believe you.”

Mason felt a bit better having his buddy by his side. John continued, “Although, it kind of doesn’t matter what I think. All these people don’t believe you. You need to prove that you’re no chicken to them!”

Mason was done with the group and wanted just to go home, but he knew that if he left now, things would only get worse for him.

“Fine. I’ll hang out till midnight. I’ll prove I’m not afraid of being in a graveyard on Halloween.”

“Oh, no. That won’t do it,” a voice from behind called out. Behind a nearby headstone, a girl named Rebecca stepped forward. She barely made eye contact with anyone in the group as she glanced down at her black-painted fingernails and casually stated, “Spend a night in the old Karloff mansion, and then we’ll stop calling you Scooby.”

All Mason could think of was that it was like a scene out of an old Frankenstein movie, where the local townsfolk gathered in the cemetery to antagonize the monster. He needed clarity as to what she proposed, so he slowly repeated what he had just heard.

“So, you’re saying that if I spend a night in a haunted house, I’ll prove to all of you that I’m not afraid.”

Rebecca stared Mason in the eyes and, without flinching, replied loudly, “I FREAKIN’ DARE YOU.”

The group erupted in clucks and chicken sounds.

Mason’s heart raced, and his head felt flush. Before his brain could come up with a reasonable reply to the ridiculous challenge, his mouth decided to answer: “FINE. I’LL DO IT!”

Cheers exploded from the crowd as if Mason had just won the Superbowl. Pats on the back and congratulations came from seemingly everywhere

Mason instantly felt better. Challenge accepted. He’d won for now. Somehow when the time comes to spend a night in the Karloff estate, he’ll figure out an excuse as to why he can’t do it. But as of tonight. He’d enjoy his victory.

“Let’s do this. Everyone, let’s all head to the Karloff house!”

Mason froze. TONIGHT?! NOW?! He felt sick to his stomach. He wasn’t planning on doing it TONIGHT-ON HALLOWEEN!

The crowd mobilized, and everyone started to jump into their cars to head over to Ravenwood Road.

What was he doing? It was nearly midnight, and he was now going to enter a haunted house?
This couldn’t be happening. This was his biggest fear and his nightmare among nightmares!
Mason was sure he’d faint or die. Either one was fine with him now.

***

A procession of cars had arrived at the Karloff house. The old estate was eerily quiet for a Halloween night. Often kids would pass the house and taunt the spirits that resided there, but tonight, perhaps because it was late, it was dead silent.

The house was dark and recessed from the streetlamps. The great lawn caught precious little light on its path. The old manor was protected by an impenetrable stone wall with wrought iron gates open to freely swing in the breeze. The house was an odd green color, the color that Mason imagined the ghosts within were made of, and the dead trees that lined the path ominously dared anyone who entered to get closer to the estate itself.

Mason was all too familiar with the Karloff house’s extensive and disturbing history.

The home was the site of the Karloff killings in the late 1970s. It was when an escaped serial killer named One-Eyed Carl, on the run from authorities, attempted to find refuge in the large manor. The story has it that he found the front door of the home left carelessly open, and soon the owner, Brendan Karloff, an esteemed statesman, and his family would lie victim to the madman on the run.

It’s a tragic and terrifying tale that kept Mason up at night as a child. The chilling account of the horrors that had transpired in that house is as follows; Carl would come out of the attic through the crawl space at night, eat the families’ food, and then go out in the town looking for townspeople to murder. The police were baffled by these strange and random killings. They had no leads to who it was or where the killer’s hideout was. It wasn’t until noon on Halloween 1972, when Mr. Karloff went up to the attic to put a jack-o-lantern in the window and found One-Eyed Carl sleeping. He attempted to retreat quietly from the attic to call the police, but the creaky floorboards of the old house gave him away. One-Eyed Carl woke up and chased the entire family throughout the house with an ax. He threatened to cut them up into pieces, but rather than chop them up like his other victims, he left the family tied in the basement to die. Old One-Eyed Carl continued to live in the house for weeks without anyone suspecting foul play, until one day the utility man came to check the meter on the side of the house. The screams from the mother were blood-curdling, and the smell of the rest of the decomposing family was horrendous. The city worker finally got the police to the house, but it was too late for Brendan and the rest of the Karloffs; they had all died by the time the authorities arrived.
Although the police sent out a county-wide search for the escaped convict, One-Eyed Carl was never found. Legend has it that he hid in the attic while they searched for him, and he still lives in that house to this day. People say that if you look in the window at dusk, you’ll see his one eye peering out from behind the dark, black curtains at passersby.

***

Now it was Halloween Eve. The night that One-Eyed Carl killed the Karloff family. Mason needed to go into the house to prove he was not a scaredy-cat and to forever rid himself of his terrible nickname, Scooby Doo.

As half the teens of the town gather in front of the old estate to cheer him on, Mason found himself more and more terrified and sick to the stomach about the fate that awaited him.

Bob placed a soberly concerned arm around his shoulders. “Dude. If you go into that house, we’ll never call you chicken again. Damn, dude. It takes some cajoles to even walk up to that house, let alone go into it. Mad props to you, bro.”

More than a dozen cars were parked in front of the haunted house; it was dark, and a dense mist filled the chilly night air. The rusted gates faintly whistled from the wind gusting through them, and the dead branches of the trees echoed distressing sounds like distant screams.

The crowd chanted. “Do it. Do it. Do it” at first, then as Mason hesitated to enter, they clucked like chickens, repeating, “Scooby, Scooby, Scooby.”

He knew that this was a do-or-die moment for him. He tried to convince himself that the One-Eyed Carl story was fifty years ago.

Carl can’t still be alive; if so, he’s surely not still living in the house. There hadn’t been any murders in the town in Mason’s entire life, so obviously, a serial killer wasn’t living there anymore. Mason felt better about the house being abandoned. As for ghosts, even if the Karloff family haunted the house, who was to say they weren’t friendly?

Mason convinced himself that it was nothing more than an old house with a terrible past. He fortified himself with the idea that just walking in and spending a minute inside the front door would be an ample gesture to prove that he was no chicken. That would surely rid him of the nickname he’s loathed since childhood.

“FINE. I’m GOING!” Mason yelled to the blood-thirsty crowd.

A hush fell over the group as Mason pushed open the corroded old gate at the street’s edge. The old metal hinge screamed for grease as it swung open with a heavy heave. As Mason hesitantly walked toward the gloomy house, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. With each step, his dread and fear grew more crippling as he repeated to himself, “It’s just a silly old abandoned house. There’s nothing to be frightened about.” (Isn’t his ankle sprained badly? Where are his crutches? Shouldn’t he be hobbling a bit? Shouldn’t someone note it and even earlier too.)

As misfortune would have it, it was now midnight. The witching hour and the exact moment that Mason’s hand reached for the doorknob. He again quietly pleaded, “Please, God, make this door locked. Everyone will see that I tried but couldn’t enter the house.”

Mason had barely touched the door. In fact, he may not have even touched it at all, when it slowly and menacingly screeched open, as if daring him to enter.

A lump formed in his throat. A scream seemed appropriate, but no noise would come from his mouth. It was no matter since no sound could have adequately expressed the terror in his heart.

A collective gasp from the group on the street could be heard. Their gasp was followed by the encouraging chant, “Scooby. Scooby. Scooby.”

Are they taunting me or encouraging me to muster the courage to go in? Mason wondered.
Either way, he knew he was at the point of no return. All that was now required of him was to enter the estate, then turn around and leave. That simple, quick act would make him a hero. Indeed, no one would challenge his courage then. Who among the group would even dare come this far? No one, Mason brazenly surmised.

A deep breath accompanied his proclamation and rationalization, “It’s just an empty old house. There’s nothing to be afraid of!” Mason closed his eyes and stepped into the doorway of the old estate. Once inside, he slowly, carefully took a peek. The darkness made it almost impossible to see, but soon, his eyes adjusted to the big, empty room now vacant, cold, and desolate. He nervously chuckled to himself.

Not so bad. Actually, it’s pretty cool in a macabre kind of way.

He again attempted to convince himself that everything was fine and took a heavy series of breaths to lower his heart rate. Immediately a heavy, cold gust swept through the rafters of the home. Instantly the front door slammed closed and locked behind him.

HOLY CRAP, WHAT THE!? Mason screamed loud enough to wake whoever may have been sleeping or dead nearby. Instinctively, he grabbed the doorknob tight and furiously attempted to exit. The steely old doorknob wouldn’t budge. It seemed that the house was intent on keeping him hostage. On cue, the wind howled like a sickly laugh throughout the room.

Oh, hell no! I’m not staying in here for another second!

The windows were covered in dark, heavy fabric. Mason was quick to try to open them and climb out. Was it the years of paint that cemented them shut or the crusty old locks that refused to relent? One thing was evident as he ripped at the window frame; he needed another way out.

***

An eerie purple glow illuminated a long, foreboding hallway across from him.

There’s got to be another exit here somewhere. Possibly a back door?

Mason made haste down a long corridor that seemed to lead towards the back of the house.

Out of all the possibilities given to him, this seemed the most reasonable in finding an escape route. There were terrible, horrific shadows cast on the walls as he stumbled through the entry. At first, Mason didn’t notice them. He dismissed them as innocent silhouettes cast through the trees as the wind blew, but upon closer inspection, he realized there was no light coming in from outside. The dark shapes were sinister and alive! He quickened his pace, but then felt the floorboards shift below his feet.

The wooden planks under his feet taunted him. From the far end of the corridor, a room was clearly within sight. Mason prayed that he had reached the back of the house and a door that provided an exit. He darted towards the space, eager to escape the hallway that taunted him.

Once inside the room at the rear of the estate, he noticed the space was filled with antique medical apparatuses. Although not originally intended as objects designed for torture, they looked threatening and painful. It was then that it occurred to Mason that he was now in One-Eyed Carl’s hideout. Perhaps the old psychopath was still alive? Could Mason have walked into a trap he had set to capture trespassers? Mason quickly turned to head back down the hall he had just escaped from.

Returning to the front of the house seemed the only way to go, since there was no way he’d allow himself to remain in One-Eyed Carl’s lair. As Mason turned back down the hall, a menacing shape manifested in the distance. It was enormous, imposing, and carried an unwieldy weapon.

Mason panicked and retreated. As he stepped backward, he stumbled over a footrest in the center of the room. With his compromised balance and his weakened, sprained ankle too tired to hold him up, his leg buckled underneath him. Mason hit the floor like a bag of sand.

Laying on the floor like a bag of sand, Mason knew that standing would be impossible, let alone escape. The dark, daunting shape quickly approached as it held what was clearly an ax in his hands. It was impossible to see his captor’s face. But he knew it was One-Eyed Carl coming for him as he wielded the same weapon of death that he killed all the local townsfolk with thirty years prior.

Mason emphatically started to crawl backward away from the shape. He looked desperately around the room. Perhaps these old tools from yesteryear could provide him with a weapon so that he might protect himself? Mason knew that it was futile, but he needed to try.
He instinctively called out, pleading with the killer, “Please, don’t kill me. I shouldn’t have entered your house. I’m only a student.”

The screams and cries seemed only to excite the ghoulish shape. It now approached faster and became more menacing. “Please, let me live!” Mason wailed one more time in desperation.
The hulking figure was now upon him. The dark, ominous identity loomed over Mason, seemingly about to overtake him as he lay helpless on the floor.

The terrifying, massive creature spoke loudly, “Dude. Don’t be afraid. Chill. It’s just me. I’m here to help you.” Mason’s eyes were now closed as he was sprawled out on the floor in terror. What did I just hear? Is One-Eyed Carl sparing my life? Cautiously, Mason looked up to see the demon who was showing him mercy.

Again, the figure spoke. “I’m so sorry man. I tried not to scare you.”

Not only was Mason confused, but he knew he recognized the voice. Could it be that the figure standing over him was not a ghoul at all? As Mason peered through the darkness, he was shocked and relieved to see that it was Thad standing by him. Rather than brandishing an ax or weapon, he held crutches for his ankle. He kneeled down next to Mason. “I told you that you need to stay off that ankle. What are you doing in the house? Was it those kids in front who dared you to come in here?” Mason was ecstatic to see Thad but confused about why he was there and what he was talking about. He knew he lived next door; perhaps he’d heard his classmates out front and came into the house to rescue him?

“Let’s get you off the floor and out of this place. I’ll explain everything once you’re out of here.”

Mason could feel his heartbeat lowering. He was now breathing easier and his mind was growing clearer. Thad reassuringly smiled as he lifted Mason in his muscular arms. “Let’s get you next door and off that foot.” Thad effortlessly lifted Mason and carried him out the rear of the house.

***

The two young men made their way through the bushes until the passageway became more groomed and manicured. Behind the trees and bushes, far away from the view from the street, was a path that connected the Karloff manor to Thad’s home next door. It wasn’t more than one hundred feet until they entered the large, beautiful backyard of Thad’s parents’ home.

Thad and Mason entered the back door as he called out to his father and brother. “The coast is clear; I’ve got Mason out of the house now. You can reset the house and do what you want with whoever enters tonight. We’ll be in my room. Try not to bother us, please.”

Thad sweetly looked Mason in the eyes and whispered, “Mind if I bring you to my room so you can rest?” Mason certainly was fine with that suggestion.

***

Thad’s room was on the outskirts of the back area of the house. Other than being unusually large, it looked like any young man’s room, except for motors, lights, engine parts, and various mechanical devices strategically placed on shelves.

Thad gently sat Mason on the edge of his bed. He knew more explanation of the house next door was needed to satisfy Mason’s curiosity. “I know my family is weird. We got it from my grandpops. My mom’s maiden name was Karloff. He loved a good ghost story, and when my grandmother died, he moved in here with us. People started making up stories about the house being haunted since no one was living there anymore, and it got kind of worn down. Pops found it hilarious that folks thought it was haunted, so he leaned into it. Now it’s kind of an inside joke for my family. Plus, it’s something we all love doing together. We tinker with making devices to scare anyone who trespasses into the house. The front door slamming, the shapes on the wall, the floor moving, we made all those things. I love anything mechanical. My dad and I created all those effects to scare off the kids who came in here wanting to trash the place.”

Mason was shocked. He then asked about One-Eyed Carl.

Thad laughed innocently. “My brother made up all that stuff about One-Eyed Carl. He wanted to see just how crazy of a story people would believe. We all find it fun. I think the kids in the town like it, too. It makes Halloween all the more exciting. Who doesn’t love having a haunted house in their town? Right?”

Mason had never thought about it quite like that before. It was true that he grew up terrified of the house and the stories told about it. He realized the myths around old One-Eyed Carl and the Karloff estate were probably where he developed his love for scary movies and why he’d walked down Ravenswood Road well before he knew Thad lived next door.

Now that he knew the haunted house was no longer occupied by ghosts, goblins, ghouls, and potential serial killer, he was a bit saddened to know the truth. Discovering a haunted house wasn’t haunted on Halloween was kind of like finding there is no Santa Claus on Christmas.

Thad slid closer to Mason on the bed, “I’ve noticed you walking by my house every day to go to school. That’s the reason that I’m always outside tinkering with something. I’ll admit it’s my lame excuse to say hello. I can’t tell you how happy I was when you fell over that rock the other day.” Mason laughed, “That’s odd, but a sweet thing to say. But I know what you mean.”

Thad sat closer to Mason and leaned to whisper in his ear, “Hey, that ankle looks pretty bad; I’d suggest staying off your feet. What do you think about laying down for a bit?

Mason leaned forward and gently kissed Thad. Their lips touched softly, tenderly. It was sweet and honest. Mason didn’t expect this macho stud to be so thoughtful and compassionate. Thad pulled off his black tee-shirt, revealing his chiseled, sculpted body.

Now it was Mason’s turn to show off just how much effort he had put into the gym the last few months. Although he wasn’t in his Hulk costume, he felt proud of how defined his body and was eager to share it with Thad. Mason flirtatiously teased. “I think I need to elevate this foot.”

Thad breathed heavily, clearly turned on. “You just suffered a traumatic experience. Especially after all you’ve been through. Best to stay here, in my bed, and let me look after you.” Mason agreed that he should remain in the care of a strong, caring man tonight.

The two men kissed, cuddled, and made love throughout the night. It wasn’t the Halloween Mason expected, but it was undoubtedly the one he had fantasized about for the last several years.

***

When morning time came around, Thad gently woke Mason with a nibble on his earlobe. He leaned over and said, “Your friends are still in front of the house next door. I think they’re waiting to see if you exit this morning. They’re probably worried sick. Maybe now’s the time to prove to everyone that you no longer should be called Scooby Doo. Should we prove to them that you’re no chicken?” Mason smiled as he agreed and made haste to get dressed.

***

Thad escorted Mason through the backyard and into the back entrance of the house. Now in the light, the once terrifying place looked oddly beautiful and majestic. The two young men made their way through the house and prepared for Mason’s triumphant exit through the front door.

“Before seeing your friends, would you be available for dinner tonight? I know an amazing little restaurant nearby. It will be a proper first date, if you’re up for it,” Thad asked.

Mason kissed Thad deeply and answered, “I’ll be by at eight. Thank you for last night. It was the best Halloween I’ve ever had… for a lot of reasons.”

Thad smirked humbly, “I enjoyed it, too. See you tonight.”

Mason opened the front door of the estate and stood for a minute. He took a long, leisurely breath and began a confident stride across the porch, through the front lawn to his friends’ cars.

***

Rebecca was the first to spot Mason exiting the house. She started yelling, “It’s Mason! He spent the night. He did it! Here he comes.”

Mason strutted with a hobble across the dry, dead grass and through the rusty, squeaky gates towards the smattering of students who spent the night waiting for him.

Bob excitedly call out, “I can’t believe you spent the night in there! Dude, you’re the boss. What brass balls you’ve got!” Rebecca was equally impressed. “I have to admit; I never thought you’d enter, let alone spend the night. You’re easily the bravest guy in town.” Mason casually stated, “No biggie. A few creepy ghosts, goblins, and a serial killer… I managed.” Without another word, he strolled away, strutting towards his house, leaving his friends bewildered and amazed.

***

The word soon spread around town about how Mason braved the dreaded Karloff estate, despite all the terrifying, otherworldly threats the haunted house had taunted him with. Mason was undoubtedly the bravest guy in town. He wasn’t frightened off by the terrifying demons and goblins within.

Other than the good fortune of never hearing the nickname Scooby again, Mason found a new reason to love Halloween. Every year, he and his boyfriend, Thad, watched the neighborhood kids attempt to do what Mason did that infamous Halloween night–spend an entire night in the haunted Karloff estate. The few who dare never seemed to get past the front room before running out terrified. They know that deeper inside that old estate, One-Eyed Carl and his army of ghastly ghouls and demons awaited them.

The post A Haunted House appeared first on JC Calciano.

The Golf Pro

Parker worked in the pro shop at a nine-hole golf club. It was a lush, little course nestled in an out-of-the-way area of town and almost exclusively frequented by locals or the occasional businessman passing through the area for a meeting. Parker’s job was renting clubs and selling balls, clubs, tees, and refreshments to the golfers.

The course had just opened for spring & summer, and Parker looked forward to seeing his usual clientele arrive for another season. It was his third year working in the pro shop, and he had already earned the title of “most beloved employee.” His charm and upbeat personality were well received by the staff and the guests. Parker was striking at 6’2” foot tall and with an athletic build. He had deep olive skin from the healthy tan he earned while working outside and golfing in his spare time. His bright green eyes contrasted brilliantly with his long, dark, thick hair. It was no wonder many of the players on the course requested him to caddy for them when he wasn’t attending to the shop.

It was Wednesday and the second week of the season when Parker caught the eye of a new guest at the club. The man’s name was Kaiden, and he was the most gorgeous thing that Parker had ever seen. When Kaiden sauntered into the shop earlier that day looking to rent clubs, Parker was instantly smitten. The two men didn’t make small talk at first; Parker was too tongue-tied to engage in his usual clever banter with his customers. Kaiden just rented a set of clubs, smiled, and headed out to the course.

The putting green was located directly across from the golf pro shop, and Parker had a clear view from the counter of the golfers who played. He pretended to be busy as he stood by the cash register and watched Kaiden putt on the grass while he waited for his tee time to be called.

Kaiden was the most handsome man Parker had ever seen. With Short chestnut hair and a lightly scruffy face, he was graced with a perfect body. It wasn’t too lean nor too muscular. Healthy and fit, just like Parker liked his men. He wore a tight blue polo shirt that perfectly framed his square pecs and washboard abs and tan slacks that clung to his powerful thighs and chiseled glutes. Parker couldn’t take his eyes off Kaiden’s brilliant smile or his perfectly round, toned ass as he bent over to pick up the balls on the grass.

Parker stood at his counter for about fifteen minutes, watching this flawless specimen of manhood putt on the nearby green. Over the loudspeaker, he could hear Kaiden’s tee time be called, and soon, the man left to begin his round.

Time to get back to work!

Parker chuckled to himself, now aware that his jeans telegraphed how conspicuously turned on by the sight of the new guest. Try as he did, he couldn’t clear the smoldering images of this stud from his mind. He could barely contain his excitement at the prospect of the hot new golfer returning soon. Parker knew how long it took a skillful player to play nine holes of golf. He estimated it would be about an hour and a half based on Kaiden’s proficiency on the putting green.

****

About ninety minutes later, just as he headed to the back area of the store to grab something, the chime of the front door rang.

THAT MUST BE HIM! He’s back!

Parker rushed to finish what he was doing and hurry to the front counter. But first, he called out to whoever entered,

I’ll be right there!

He was disappointed to see that it was just his co-worker stopping in to cover for him so he could take his lunch break.

Lunch? Oh, that’s right. It’s one o’clock! I forgot.

Parker was too distracted to think about food. He knew he wanted to eat, but didn’t want to leave the shop in fear that his dream man would soon return.

His buddy was surprised Parker told him he didn’t want to leave the shop today. “You’re not eating?” his co-worker asked, confused.

Parker hastily replied in an attempt to get him to go. “Na, I want to stay here and catch up on work.” His friend chuckled, amused, “Hold it one second. You want to catch up on work? HERE? What’s there to catch up on? You rent clubs and sell balls!”

Parker didn’t want to offer an explanation. “How about you pick me up a sandwich? I have things to do.” His co-worker agreed to grab him something from the course’s café and let him forgo his break, if he so desired.

Parker was happy to stay in the shop and wait for Kaiden to finish his round.

Five minutes later, and as Parker hoped, the door to the pro shop opened, and Kaiden sauntered in. “What a great course—I’ve never played here before. That was fun.” He beamed with exuberant joy.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Parker replied, attempting to be casual as he inquired, “Are you planning on playing here again?

Kaiden thought for a minute. It was as if he was mentally checking his schedule. He then replied, “If I come next week, will you be here to rent me the clubs?”

Parker wanted to holler, “Hell yeah, I’ll be here!” but instead, he calmly responded, “Yup. I’ll be here. I work every Wednesday.”

Kaiden handed his clubs to Parker, “Well, I guess I’ll see you next week then.” He then smiled, turned, and exited the shop.

Parker watched Kaiden leave. The way he carried himself captivated him.

Woof. That’s a man!

***

The following week, Parker waited intently for Kaiden to again stroll into his store.

As Parker’s mind reeled about whether or not he’d show up. The bell on the door chimed, and in Kaiden walked. As expected, he looked spectacular in a white polo shirt and tight navy-blue shorts that showed off his lean, slightly hairy legs. He greeted Parker with a warm salutation. “Ah, you’re here. I hoped you’d be working today.”

Parker’s voice cracked as he responded, “Yup. Every Wednesday! It’s nice to see you again too. I’ve taken the liberty of having clubs ready for you. I try to remember all our guests.”

Kaiden was tickled at the idea that Parker had everything ready for him. “How thoughtful of you.” Kaiden signed out the clubs and gave him a flirtatious wink and smile that melted Parker’s heart. He then gathered everything necessary to play and made his way to the putting green across the way to warm up. Try as he did, Parker couldn’t help but watch as Kaiden provided another sexy show as he prepared for his upcoming round.

***

The next ninety minutes were unbearable. Parker waited impatiently for Kaiden to return so that he may chat with him for a few more precious moments.

Like clockwork, ninety minutes later, the door chimed, and Kaiden strolled in with the clubs. “Another great day out there. Thanks for setting these clubs aside for me. You really know how to make a guy feel welcome.”

Parker blushed, “It’s my job. I’m glad you had a good day and a great experience here. Hopefully, I’ll get to see you again next week.”

Kaiden grinned innocently and replied, “Yes. I’ll do my best to make it in next week. Sometimes things come up at work. But if it’s possible, I’ll be here.” Kaiden smiled and walked out. Parker took in another eyeful of the sexy stud before he exited. He couldn’t help but think to himself, The view from the back is almost as good as the view from the front.

***

Every Wednesday, Kaiden would faithfully enter at the same time. He’d make pleasant small talk, rent his golf clubs and play.

Parker enjoyed Kaiden’s regular visits to the course and was certainly interested in him. But there never seemed to be anything more between the two men.

What’s up with this guy? Is he gay, straight, bi? I don’t see a ring, so he’s not married. He seems flirty and friendly, but it never goes past friendly conversation when he comes in. How could I tell if he’s interested in me?

Summer was almost over, and the golf course would soon close for the winter. Parker grew desperate. The weekly encounters with his fantasy man frustrated him and drove him mad with desire.

What would I do if I never saw him again? How could he just leave my life without me taking a chance and asking him out on a date?

His frustration went on for another few weeks. Finally, he could take it no more.

Today’s the day. I’m going to take a shot and ask him if he’ll go out with me.

Parker eagerly waited for Kaiden to arrive. One o’clock, two o’clock, three… Kaiden never showed up at the golf course that day.

Where is he? Did something happen to him? Did I blow my chance with him? Will I ever see him again?

***

Thursday was payday at the club. It’s also Parker’s day off. This particular Thursday, a bill that needed to be paid was due. Rather than waiting until he was working again, he stopped at the golf course and picked up his weekly salary.

Much to his surprise, when he entered the golf course, he noticed Kaiden was putting on the green! He was both delighted and surprised to see him. Sure, there was a pang of disappointment that he wasn’t there the day before when he was working, but he knew that sometimes, people’s schedules change, and they come a day earlier or later than usual.

Either way, Kaiden was there, and now, so was Parker!

Parker quickly filled his eyes with the stud candy before him. He soon noticed that Kaiden was using a beautiful set of expensive clubs rather than the ones he rented him every week.

He couldn’t resist the desire to talk to him. He was also eager to find out what was up with those clubs. As he approached the green, Kaiden noticed him and called out with a welcoming exuberance, “You’re here! I wondered where you were.” Parker quickly responded, “Today’s my day off. I’m just picking up my check. I’m sorry you weren’t able to play yesterday. I missed you at the shop.”

Kaiden explained, “Yes, I had a last-minute meeting that prevented me from playing. That’s why I came in today. I went into the shop to see you earlier, but they told me today was your day off–I was super bummed.”

Before Parker could inquire about where he got his new clubs, Kaiden gave him a dazzling smile that made him weak in the knees. He asked, “Since you’re not on the work schedule today, would you like to play nine holes with me? It’ll be my treat. My tee time should be called any minute now.”

Parker loved golfing and was quite good at it. “Sure! I’d love to join you. I’ll be right back.”

It was late in the day, and the pro shop had already closed. Fortunately, Parker had the keys to the door with him. He opened the store, rushed in, grabbed the best clubs he could, and dashed back to the green.

Kaiden’s tee time was called over the loudspeaker just as Parker got back, and the two men set forth to play the modest course.

The sun was now low in the sky, and brilliant hues of orange and purples reflected off the wispy clouds above. The warm, refreshing breeze caressed them as they played. It was a perfect time for golfing.

As the round progressed, both young men discovered that each was a skillful player. Their sense of spirited competition made them strive to best the other’s score.

Conversations were light and lively, fun, and flirty. Parker could see Kaiden casually checking him out at him as he swung. He certainly didn’t mind. He was not only flattered, but guilty of doing the same. Kaiden’s form-fitting, slightly tight slacks and well-filled-out shirt made his square chest and firm muscular arms impossible to not stare at.

Time flew, it felt like that their round was finished within mere minutes. As the two men completed the course, it was evident that neither of them was quite done with the other for the evening. The day had now turned to dusk, and a quiet hush fell over the course. The last of the golden rays of the sun created a soft, warm glow that made Kaiden look almost angelic in the light.

Parker had a wonderful time playing and getting to know this sweet, sexy man. Even so, a question remained, “Where did he get those golf clubs?”

Parker discretely wondered aloud, “I noticed that you’re not playing with our clubs today. Are those yours?” Kaiden’s demeanor instantly changed. He went from confident to concerned. He glanced down bashfully at the grass and, with a timid voice, admitted, “These are my clubs. When I moved here a few months ago, they were packed and on a truck. They arrived a week after I played your course. I knew that if I used them–I wouldn’t have a reason to come see you.”

Parker was taken by how shy, and adorably awkward Kaiden was being. Kaiden continued, “It’s silly, I know. When I learned that today is your day off, I decided not to bother renting clubs and to use mine.”

Parker chuckled at the sweet, honest explanation Kaiden offered. “You could have just come in and said, hello. I would have loved to just chat with you. There was really no need to pay to rent clubs you didn’t need.”

Kaiden bashfully laughed at himself. “I know, but renting and returning the clubs from you made playing here so much better. Plus, I’m kind of shy around hot guys.”

Was it the warm summer breeze, the soothing setting sun, or the coy innocence of this studly man that stood before him that made Parker decide this hunky man now needed to be his? Without hesitation, he took a step forward, moving closer to Kaiden. They now stood standing face to face, chest to chest. Parker slowly leaned forward so that Kaiden could feel his warm, moist breath on his lips. They were intimately close for what seemed to be an impossibly long time. Finally, Kaiden was the one who couldn’t restrain himself anymore. He reached up, placed his hand on the back of Parker’s head, and pulled him towards him, kissing him passionately. Their lips caressed each other with a longing they’d suppressed all summer.

Parker reached down and grabbed Kaiden’s crotch playfully. He now had a fistful of man meat in his hand and teased, “I see, someone’s got his NINE-iron ready.”

Without missing a beat, Kaiden responded. That’s not a nine-iron. That’s my DRIVER.”

Parker needed no further verbal foreplay and wasted no time taking Kaiden’s hand, escorting him to the pro shop, where he hastily unlocked the door. He swiftly ushered Kaiden to the storeroom, where a large, comfortable sofa awaited them.

Eagerly, impatiently, the two men disrobed each other. Within minutes, they hurled their naked bodies onto the couch in a passionate embrace.

One thing was abundantly clear to both golfers in that instance–there was one more hole to be played that evening.

The post The Golf Pro appeared first on JC Calciano.

Scout’s Honor

Austin was a natural outdoorsman. He was young, handsome, and strong. Ever since graduating from the Boy Scouts, he lived for hiking, fishing, and being in the wild. But his job as an assistant pharmacist made it difficult for him to get time off from work. All he could manage were short weekend camping excursions in the nearby woods.

Austin’s co-workers all took turns flirting with him. Was it his muscular body, sparkling blue eyes, or sandy blonde hair that made them all melt at the sight of him? Either way, none of them interested Austin. Dating wasn’t part of his plan, nor was falling in love… yet. His passion was nature, and he couldn’t spend enough time in it.

***

It was 8:00 pm, just before dusk, when Austin arrived at his favorite campsite. He was grateful that the sun was still high enough in the sky that he had enough light to set up his tent and prepare his campfire.

***

As the evening rolled in, the forest started singing its song with crickets chirping and frogs croaking. A crack of a beer can opening was the perfect accompaniment to this sonnet. Austin pressed the cold can to his lips and breathed a mighty sigh as he put the finishing touches on his campsite.

Ah, heaven.

Suddenly, a woman’s voice shouted, “Gimme a beat!” It was loud and clear and cut through the tranquility of the woods like a samurai’s sword, as did the booming bass line that followed.
Oh, hell no!

Austin instantly knew what was happening, and he wasn’t having any of it. He hastily put down his beer and traced the music to a nearby campsite blasting their boom box.

***

Through the thicket, not fifty feet away, was an encampment right next to the river. The music could easily be heard blaring from within the tent.

Who sets their campsite so close to the water?

He immediately knew the answer, a novice camper, of course.

As the sounds of Janet Jackson pounded on, a man bathing in the nearby water could be seen. Austin was annoyed but stayed a minute to assess his next steps before reacting. The man that was chest-deep in the water was lean, athletic, and exotically striking in his appearance.

Okay, just because this dude is hella-hot doesn’t mean he can blast his music at a campsite. There’s a time and a place for Ms. Jackson, and this isn’t it.

The man spotted Austin and cheerfully called out to him. “Oh, hi! Name’s Daniel. Care to join me for a swim?”

“Na, I’m good. I just came by to ask you to turn down your radio.” He replied, attempting to be civil about the problem at hand.

“Oh, that’s not my music,” the ripped, sexy stranger replied.

The man began heaving his mighty body forward through the water approaching Austin. With each step, the setting sun cast brilliant orange and purple colors on his wet, glistening pecs and ab muscles. The liquid cascaded off his body, almost reluctant to lose touch with something so magnificent. His white boxers, now translucent, clung to every impressive inch of him.

Austin tried not to look, but his eyes kept forcing themselves down past the dark patch of hair below his navel that led downward over his lower abs and ended at the impossibly low waistband of his shorts.

Austin’s breathing became shallow as he realized.

This is EXACTLY the kind of stud I’ve imagined wandering into my tent in the middle of the night.

Daniels’s deep voice jolted Austin back to reality as he explained, “My sister’s the Janet Jackson fan. She’s the culprit. I’m happy to tell her to turn it down. There’s nothing like the sounds of nature when you’re in the wild.”

Austin agreed as he fought to keep his eyes from examining Daniel’s hulking body.

A young female voice shouted from inside the tent.

“Who are you talking to? What’s going on out there?”

“It’s some dude camping nearby. He came by to say, “Hello.” Don’t come out of the tent just yet–I’m about to change.”

Without warning, Daniel peeled off his wet underwear and casually hung them on a nearby tree. His impressive body now glistened in the golden setting sun. Daniel’s jeans were conveniently close. He easily stepped into them and pulled them up over his unapologetically large manhood. Confidently, he gave himself a healthy tuck and adjustment, then cautiously lifted the zipper of his fly.

Daniel asked, “I take it your campsite is within earshot? How about I make you a deal? I’ll ask my sister to lower the music enough that we can’t hear it from your tent if you let me join you for a quick beer?”

Austin thought about it for a minute. He hadn’t planned for any company that evening, but this guy was way too hot to say no to. Even though he craved the solitude of the mountain, the company of a hunky guy for a few minutes sounded nice.

“Sure. A quick beer works for me.”

***

Austin’s fire was still burning when they arrived at his site. Daniel proudly held up a mini-cooler filled with imported beers and pulled out two. “Well, you’ve got quite the blaze going on there. It’s a perfect opportunity to sit by it and throw back a cold one. I brought a sixer in case you didn’t have any brews.”

The two young men sat quietly by the roaring fire for a few minutes without speaking a word. Austin inquired, “What’s up with you camping with your sister? Is there a story there?”

Daniel took a swig of his drink and replied, “She’s a Girl Scout. She needed a few merit badges. I agreed to help her get them. It’s not like I can let a 14-year-old go camping alone. Right?”

Austin helped himself to a second beer. “You’re a good brother. That’s very considerate. I was a scout when I was younger. It taught me many things. Like always to be prepared for anything.”

***

The two men settled into the lush green landscape comfortably. The night was quiet, and the stars were plentiful. It was the perfect temperature for a fire to take away the night chill.

“Are you sure your sister’s going to be okay alone?” Austin wondered aloud. “Dude, she’s 50 feet away. I’m sure she’s fine. I can text her to see if you’re worried. That is unless that’s your way of politely asking me to leave?”

“No. Of course not. I’m enjoying your company, just wondering about a 14–year-old being by herself in the wild. That’s it,” he quickly replied.

“You don’t know young girls. She’s probably FaceTiming on her phone with her friends or gaming. Trust me, she’s fine. She’d prefer me not to be there in the tent with her. Really.”

Daniel stood up suddenly and grabbed the nearby kerosene lamp. “I gotta take a leak.
What about you?”

Austin thought about it and realized he did too. Daniel was inviting him to pee with him. Should he join? If he said no, then got up later, it would look like he was pee-shy and too embarrassed to stand by another man as they relieved themselves.

Since his bladder was bursting, it was best just to say yes and go to the bathroom with him.

The two men stepped towards a clearing in the bush. Daniel put the lamp down and opened his pants. He freely urinated while letting out a relieved sigh. Austin bashfully joined him. Although he struggled to start peeing, he could finally get it going. He attempted to keep his eyes away from Daniel, which made it difficult to see where he was urinating.

“Dude. Relax. No need to be shy about looking. We’re both sporting the same equipment. He then chuckled, “Correction… yours looks bigger than mine!”

Austin was shocked and embarrassed.

What did he just say? Now he couldn’t help but look at what Daniel was talking about. Austin attempted to casually glance over to see the size difference between the men.

Daniel burst out laughing. “I knew you’d have to look after I said that!”

Austin quickly finished up, zipped his fly, grabbed the lamp, and retreated to the campground. Daniel took more time to finish his business. He struggled to find his way to Austin’s campsite in the dark.

“You took the lamp!” Daniel teased. “I hope you’re not embarrassed by my silly joke back there. I didn’t realize you were so uptight about stuff like that.”

Austin was quick to answer. “I’m not uptight. I just don’t look at other guys… things!”

“THINGS?” Daniel laughed. “Okay. If you say so.” He sat by the fire again, making himself more comfortable than before as he continued, “Well, that at least answers that question.”

Austin wanted to know what he was talking about and made it clear that he needed to understand what he meant by his statement.

Daniel elaborated… “I guess you’re straight then… I mean, if you don’t look at other guys… ‘things.’”

Austin was annoyed, yet he couldn’t figure out why. He just found Daniel’s assumptions about him bothersome. “One has nothing to do with the other. Some people just want privacy when doing… private things.”

Daniel could sense Austin’s agitation. “I should go. It’s probably best I let you enjoy the rest of your night.”

Daniel stood and started gathering his things. The glow from the fire made his athletic build even more imposing and sexier than before.

Austin thought for a minute as he looked him over.

I certainly wouldn’t mind this hot hunk’s company for a few more minutes–even if he was a meathead.

“You’re welcome to chill and have another beer. No need to leave.”

Daniel smirked and sat by the fire again. “Well, since you offered me a beer… pass one over.”

Austin reached into the cooler, pulled out two beers, and handed over another frosty beverage.

“Alcohol makes guys do and say some stupid shit.” Daniel flatly stated, apologizing for his silly statement.

“Yeah, I guess it does,” Austin replied, deciding to make light of the situation.

Daniel innocently continued the conversation as he man-spread his legs wide. “So, have you ever made out with a dude?”

The timing of the question perfectly coincided with Austin’s swallowing. A heavy swig, combined with the shock of Daniel’s inquiry, caused him to spit out his beverage almost comically.

Daniel laughed as he doubled down. “I’ll take that as a no. Me neither. I was just wondering.”

Austin attempted to make sense of the question asked of him.

What is this guy talking about? Is this dude trying to ask if I’m gay or not?

Austin wasn’t in the mood to explain himself or continue this conversation. It was getting late, and he decided it was probably best to spend the evening alone. Without wasting another moment, he replied, “Actually. It’s late. Best we get some rest. I hope the rest of your camping trip goes well.”

Austin then stood up to make it clear that he intended to retire for the night.

Daniel knew it was time to go. Without pausing, he grabbed his cooler and excused himself by saying, “Thanks for the company. I enjoyed sharing your fire with you. Enjoy the rest of the weekend.” Daniel smiled weakly, took his flashlight, and exited through the trees.

***

Although the temperature dropped at night, the small, confined space in his tent made it warm to sleep in. Once inside and settled, Austin unzipped his sleeping back and removed his tee-shirt and jeans. He found that the less he wore in his sleeping bag, the more comfortable he was.

As Austin laid on his back in his boxers, staring up at the top of the tent, he couldn’t help but play the recent conversation back in his head. The more he thought about it, the more the whole evening made no sense to him.

***

As the night’s noises became more pronounced and the evening sky darkened, one thing became more apparent to him. Daniel would not be leaving his thoughts for a while. The image of the beefy man just sitting by the fire with him, drinking a beer, illuminated by the golden glow of the embers, was too fiery for words. The sight of his muscular arms with their budging veins just made Austin’s breathing shallow. Without realizing it, Austin could feel himself lightly brushing his hands over his tight abs and running his fingers over his toned pecs. The touch of his own body made him more and more excited.

As Austin casually slipped his hand under the waistband of his boxers, he could hear a rustling in the trees outside the tent.

What could be out there? Raccoon? Bear? Did I put all the food away?

Before he could slip on his jeans, a bright spot appeared at the front of his tent. Daniel’s voice quietly called out, “Austin. It’s Daniel. I’m sorry to bother you, but I couldn’t just leave out the conversation where we did. I need to talk to you.”

What is with this guy? Why is he back here? Did I not make it clear that I was done with him?

Before Austin could reply, the zipper on the tent door opened to reveal Daniel peering in with his flashlight.

Austin inquired in a firm tone. “Dude. What do you want?”

“Just to talk,” Daniel replied as he glanced around Austin’s tent’s spacious interior. Without an invitation inside, Daniel kicked off his flip-flops and entered the tent. He zipped the door closed behind him and sat down.

Who invites themselves into someone’s tent without asking?

Austin did his best to cover up his exposed body. The situation was awkward as he lay only partially covered by his sleeping bag.

Austin bluntly stated, “Listen, if you’re worried about something you said to me. You’re fine. I’m fine. Maybe you’d be better off just sleeping off those beers you drank.”

Daniel corrected him, “I’m not drunk. Three beers over a few hours? I’m stone sober. I came back because I was afraid I said something stupid and offended you.”

Austin didn’t answer.

Best to let this guy get whatever he wants to say off his chest and then leave.

Daniel’s demeanor was that of an endearing, concerned man.

“Listen, I’m sure I approached it the wrong way and screwed up a very nice evening. I came back to clarify my intentions before. I wanted you to know that I think you’re really hot in a way that I rarely find other dudes. I just thought, well… out in the wilderness, the rules are different, and I wanted to know if you would let me kiss you.”

Austin found Daniel’s whispered voice and bashful tone endearing.
He wondered, was this guy simply flirting with me the entire time we were sitting by the fire? Was all that awkward, stumbling around in an attempt at requesting his first same-sex kiss?

Austin wasn’t sure what to do. Should he make this stud feel at ease? Perhaps give him what he’s looking for?

Daniel continued as Austin’s mind raced. “It’s none of my business how you identify yourself. I was never much for labels. I just came by to tell you, I think it would be nice to spend the night with you in your tent if you were interested.”

Daniel reached over his head, grasped the back of his tee-shirt, lifted it over his head and off his body with an easy sweeping motion. He knew what his best assets were and was eager to advertise them. Austin was happy to inspect the merchandise.

Daniel’s hulking chest and ripped arms made it almost impossible for Austin to turn away from the muscular stud.

Austin couldn’t help himself as he casually inquired, “What about your sister? Is she going to be okay sleeping alone in her tent tonight?”

Daniel laughed, “She’s the one who convinced me to come back here and try again to seduce you.”

“So, that is that what this is? A seduction?” Austin smirked.

“Two practically naked men in a small, hot tent together. Both of them turned on by the other? Yeah, I’d call it a seduction.”

Austin agreed–everything Daniel said was true. Especially the part about them both being turned on.

“So, what’s next?” Austin queried. “You said you’ve never been with a guy before. Do you know how this works?”

Daniel replied with a mischievous smile, “Well, I guess same as with a woman, only hotter,” he teased as he leaned in and kissed Austin innocently at first, then more passionately. Without missing a beat, he tugged the sleeping bag off of Austin and straddled him like a cowboy mounting a horse. Daniel used his powerful hands to pin Austin down. Daniel’s other hand whipped off his belt through the hoops of his jeans as he quickly unfastened the top button.

“Let me know if there’s something you’d like–I’m not sure how aggressive is too aggressive with another dude.”

“When you cross a line, I’ll let you know, but as of right now, I’d say you’re doing excellent,” Austin replied. He gasped to catch his breath, mindful of just how much noise he could make in the tent that evening without disturbing his neighbors. If Janet Jackson taught him anything that day, it was that a loud shout easily carried throughout the campground.

***

The following morning, Austin prepared a pot of coffee and a hearty breakfast for the three of them.

Daniel’s sister suggested they spend another night at the campground. As a fledgling scout, she believed there were more merit badges she could collect. Daniel was the first to agree that another evening in the mountains was an excellent idea.

Austin was grateful for the extra supplies he packed for the weekend, and as a former scout, he knew to always be prepared. He also couldn’t help but believe that he earned a few extra merits badges himself that weekend.

The post Scout’s Honor appeared first on JC Calciano.

An Italian Affair

Jarrod’s heart was shattered as he sat in his empty home; he felt he’d never love again.

His ten-year relationship with his high school sweetheart Rodney ended, and at 28 years old, he experienced loneliness for the first time.

It had been weeks since he’d been out of the house or engaged in any social activities. His friends had given up calling and inviting him to the bars or their parties anymore. It was evident that Jarrod was in no mood to be social or date anytime soon.

As Jarrod sat on his couch on the tenth consecutive Saturday night watching Netflix, his mind again wondered what went wrong in his relationship?

He was happy staying home, watching movies, and cuddling with his boyfriend. Maybe that wasn’t enough for Rodney anymore? Perhaps Jarrod was no fun?

He and Rodney met in homeroom while juniors in high school. Rodney was a new student from a neighboring city. He was tall, lean, and too exotic looking for the conservative little town Jarrod lived in. Unlike the rest of the students in school, Rodney was bold, funny, and unconventional. It was no surprise that when he asked Jarrod out on a date, Jarrod quickly agreed. Unlike Jarrod, Rodney was the life of the party. Wherever he went, fun followed. People naturally seemed attracted to Rodney. Jarrod, not so much. Jarrod was traditionally attractive in a simple, innocent way. He was clean-cut and handsome. He could easily be described as the boy next door, unlike Rodney, who was dark, striking, and unpredictable.

The two boys turned into men together and, in their mid-twenties, started planning the rest of their life together. Jarrod wanted a big traditional wedding, whereas Rodney was more interested in eloping in some faraway land. Although traveling excited Jarrod, it also scared him a bit. His life was in the small town of Cooperville, and he had never traveled more than 30 miles from the city limits. How could he possibly ditch his family and friends to be wed on some distant shore? As romantic and appealing as they were, Rodney’s ideas always seemed implausible and daunting.

As Jarrod sat staring at his second slice of frozen pizza, he wondered if his inflexibility and overly cautious nature was the thing that drove Rodney away from him? Jarrod always thought that they had the ideal relationship and were happy together. But weeks ago, when Rodney suddenly disappeared, he left a simple note, “I need something new, exciting, different in my life – saying goodbye in person will just be too painful. I’m sorry to do this to you, but I have to go. You’ll always be in my heart; I  love you, but goodbye.”

***

It was days later that Jarrod’s mother called. He would send most people’s calls directly to voicemail, but he knew he needed to take his mom’s calls. Maybe it was an emergency?

Mom was direct and to the point on why she was calling, “Jarrod dear, I hope you’re still not sulking around the house. Best to forget that man, but I’m not calling to give you the same sermon I gave you days ago. This time I’m ringing you about your Aunt Stella. She’s sick and needs someone to help her around the house. No one else can do it since you work from home and are a strong young man – I will need you to help with your Aunt. She specifically asked for you.”

Jarrod’s first reaction was confusion, “Aunt Stella is here? When did she come to the states?” His mother took no time in explaining. “No, she’s home, in her apartment in Rome.” Now Jarrod was really confused. “If she’s in Rome, how am I supposed to help her?”

Mom quickly explained, so it was crystal clear to him, “Jarrod dear, you’ll need to go to Italy.”

Mom continued; I know Rodney made you get your passport a few years back in hopes of taking you to Europe. I’ll cover the price of the plane ticket. This is something that will be good for you.

Jarrod knew he couldn’t say no to his mom. His family needed him, and the truth was, he had no good excuse to stay in his apartment moping around.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” he answered his mother. Mom was pleased with his response and added. “You need to experience things outside this small town; who knows, maybe you’ll meet a man in Italy? Trust me, Italian men are gorgeous… just look at your father. When he was your age, he was breathtaking.

“Awe, mom. Really?” Jarrod groaned back to her, although he couldn’t deny what she was saying was true. His parents had their wedding pictures on the fireplace mantel, and it was more than evident that his father was an incredibly handsome man when he was his age.

***

Jarrod rallied and got his life as together as he could. He knew he just needed to make the best of it.

Italy… At least I know I’ll eat well!

***

The flight seemed impossibly long, but the selection of movies on the plane was impressive. There are worst ways of spending eight hours than watching films and listening to his favorite music.

Arriving in Italy was thankfully uneventful. An older Italian chauffeur greeted him at his gate, holding a sign with his name on it, and a twenty-minute drive through the green, plush countryside whisked him to Rome’s ancient, stone city.

The historic city intrigued him, and the bustling European energy was infectious. The automobile soon arrived at his aunt’s building, and the driver hurried to retrieve his luggage.

Compact cars, Vespas, and other assorted vehicles were scattered as far as the eye could see. Cars seemingly parked everywhere without concern for curbs, sidewalks, or traffic flow. What a sight, Jarrod thought. A parking attendant would have a field day in this city. No one seems to care where they leave their vehicle!

Jarrod made his way up the marble staircase that led up to his aunt’s apartment. The building was old but pristine. Somehow time didn’t seem to notice this building; it seemed at least a hundred years old but looked like it was built yesterday.

“BELLO JARROD! Ciao, ciao. Come, my handsome nephew! Welcome,” his aunt proclaimed in her heavy Italian accent.

A big smile appeared on Jarrod’s face as his aunt enthusiastically pressed him into her chest. He had forgotten how aggressive and loving her hugs were. She kissed his cheek in rapid succession, seemingly without end. “Manga, Manga. Eat; you must be starving!” A feast was soon laid out on the table, and exquisite and delicious foods filled the kitchen.

He chuckled; I can tell that I’m going home 20 pounds heavier than I am now.

As Jarrod sat delighting in a fresh Caprese salad when something caught his eye out the window across from the yard. The squeak of an old clothesline revealed a young man leaning out the window and hanging his laundry. The fellow was roughly Jarrod’s age and was strikingly dark, lean, and handsome. The stud was wearing only his boxers.

Wow. It’s true what they say about Italian boys. They’re even more delicious than the food here!

Jarrod tried not to be obvious, but he couldn’t help himself. The sight before him was too good not to enjoy. “si, e un Uomo molto Bello” Jarrod knew that his Aunt saw him staring out the window, and he couldn’t help but agree with her. “Yes, he’s a very handsome boy indeed” The two shared a laugh.

Jarrod finished his meal, helped his aunt with her tasks for the day, and settled into his new bedroom. The night was upon them, and Jarrod was exhausted from the trip.

The warm Italian evening was delightful, but he wasn’t sure about the heavy wooden shutters that swung closed to keep the light out.

Hasn’t anyone here heard of window screens? How do you deal with the bugs?

He hoped nothing creepy crawly would enter the room as he slept.

From across the courtyard, the light from an adjacent window revealed the man who Jarrod admired earlier in the day. The large open window showed a spacious bedroom with a large bed at its center. The view directly into the room was hard to miss from Jarrod’s room.

Who needs Netflix? This stud in his underwear is all the entertainment I need tonight. Jarrod chuckled to himself as he discretely watched the young Italian man lying on his bed texting on his phone.

I can’t seem to keep my eyes open from the jet lag. Maybe I should just dream of this sexy Italian man now and hope he decides to do his laundry again tomorrow.

***

Jarrod slept the morning away. He woke to see the clock indicate it was noon. He could hear his aunt gleefully chatting on the phone from across the hall. Although it was impossible to tell what she was talking about, whatever it was, she seemed happy.

Jarrod quickly opened the heavy wooden shutters to let the sun in and see what sight may be awaiting him at the window. At first, he was bummed to see the hunk’s room adjacent to him was empty, but soon that changed when he looked down at the garden between the two buildings to see his hot Italian dude working the garden.

Does this guy even own a shirt? Jarrod laughed. Not that he was complaining. The young man before him was fit and toned with a golden tuft of chest hair that could only be described as “yummy.”

Jarrod could hear his aunt hang up the phone. Best to end the show in the garden and say good morning and see if she needs anything. After all, he was there to help her.

The day quickly passed as Jarrod and his aunt walked to the local market. The town’s sights smells, and hustle was too spectacular to describe. On the way to the fishmonger, they casually strolled past the coliseum. Yup, the coliseum! Jarrod couldn’t believe his eyes at the marvel of it all, whereas his Aunt didn’t even seem to notice the ancient and historic sight.

As remarkable as the coliseum and the other miscellaneous sights that day was. None was as spectacular as the view out Jarrod’s bedroom later that night.

The warm wind blew through the open window. Jarrod could see as clear as day the young man across the way entering his bedroom. Within minutes, he peeled off his shirt and pants. Jarrod ducked behind the wooden shutter to not be seen.

Am I a weird peeping tom? He wondered. Yes. I guess I am. But I don’t care. This show’s too good to miss!

The young Italian didn’t care who looked into the window from the adjacent building. He confidently slipped out of his boxer briefs and headed into the next room, seemingly to shower. His spectacular ass was a sight to behold as he walked into the bathroom.

Now I know what inspired Michelangelo to carve the statue of David out of stone. The men here have bodies to die for!

Ten minutes later, he emerged wearing only a towel and slipped into his bed, leaving his towel hanging on the bedpost. He quietly texted or played a game on his phone while Jarrod decided;

Alright, I’ve had my fun; time to mind my own business.

***

Several days had passed, and the young man across the way seemed consistent with his shirtless gardening, showering, and dressing in front of the open window. Jarrod himself found himself not minding that the windows had no screens or coverings other than the heavy wooden shutters that were closed at night. Before long, he found himself changing in his room, undressing for bed, or coming out of the shower in a towel without caring who may be looking in from the adjacent building.

Jarrod quickly adjusted to his new location and found spending time with his aunt quite pleasurable. He was happy to do some housework to help her, run errands, and in the afternoon, go sightseeing in one of the most remarkable cities in the world.

Jarrod was grateful for his experience in Italy and his time with his aunt. Still, he couldn’t shake the sadness he felt from his ex-boyfriend, Rodney. Try as he did, his heart still ached from being dumped and realizing he was now single and without a man to love.

A week later, his aunt asked Jarrod to run to the market for her. She wasn’t in the mood to make her pasta from scratch that day and knew of a spot where they made it fresh and almost as good as she made it.  Almost.

“Amore Mio, per favore, please pick up some rigatoni for tonight, and on the way home, you can sightsee at the Trevi fountain. Here are some coins for you to throw in and make a wish for yourself.”

Jarrod was excited to see the fountain of Trevi. He had heard about it his entire life and was eager to see it. Not only was the fountain famous, but it was the place where his mother and father first met and began dating.

“of course, Zia Stella. I’ll be happy to go for you. I’ll leave right away.

Using google maps, Jarrod quickly found both the market and the fountain. It was mid-day when he turned the small corner street and, much to his surprise, found the fountain. The fountain was evident on the map, but he hadn’t expected it to be down a small street, seemingly in a small, remote spot. He expected the famous fountain to be in the middle of some grand piazza rather than an unassuming side street.

The fountain was as impressive as promised. Carved horses and figures adorned the spouting water, cascading down the pristine carved rock formations. Jarrod looked around to see if anyone was looking at him being a goofy tourist. He tried not to be too conspicuous, but the sight took his breath away, and he decided to do just as his aunt requested of him. Make a wish. At first, he thought of wishing her good health and recovery, but then he remembered her instructions. “Wish for something for yourself.” Although it seemed a bit selfish having a sick aunt and thinking only of himself, he decided to do exactly as instructed, make a wish for something he wanted.

Jarrod took several coins out of his pocket, closed his eyes, and thought, “I wish I could get my ex-boyfriend out of my mind. If only I could meet someone special, I could love and would love me back. I wish I could find a special, wonderful, caring man.”

Jarrod tossed the coins into the fountain, and they made a delicate splash into the water. He opened his eyes, feeling a bit silly about partaking in this old tourist ritual, but then again, it worked for his parents, and who knows? Maybe it could work for him?

“mi scusi. Sei l’americano che va a trovare tua zia? Excuse me. I’ll say In English… Are you the American visiting his aunt in the building across from me?”

Jarrod stood frozen. Right in front of him stood the sexy young man from across the courtyard. He was dressed neat and casual with a button-down dress shirt and Italian capri pants. His attire was very unlike the boy who works in the garden or hangs his clothes out on wash day. He looked dashing and well-groomed as if he were going on a date.

“Yes. I am American. And I recognize you too. My name is Jarrod, and yes, I’m visiting my aunt.”

“My name’s Lorenzo. I must admit. I’m quite familiar with you. I’ve noticed you in your room at night. When you weren’t looking, I admired you.”

Jarrod laughed. “Well, thank you for being honest. I’ll tell you the truth as well. I’ve noticed you in your room as well.”

Lorenzo blushed. I was sent here on an errand from my aunt. She sent me for Pasta at the store next to the fountain.

Jarrod was surprised at the coincidence. “Me too! My Aunt sent me to the same store. Her name is Stella. She’s quite a lovely lady, although I’m afraid she has some kind of sickness.”

Lorenzo tried to hide a chuckle; he knew something Jarrod didn’t know.

“What’s so funny about my aunt being ill?” Jarrod wondered. Lorenzo was sorry as he explained. “Scuzi. No. I no laugh at your aunt. I know Stella very well. She’s a second mother to me. My Zia and your Zia are best friends. I hear them talk on the phone all day. I no think she’s sick. I think she tell you that so that she could get to you come to Italy. I hear Stella say to my aunt you have a broken heart. My Aunt suggests you come to Rome for vacation. I think that they both send us to Trevi fountain at the same time to meet.”

Jarrod was shocked. Was it true? Was this all a ruse to get him to leave his home, visit an exotic land and find love with a sexy Italian boy?

Lorenzo could see Jarrod was confused. He continued to quiz Jarrod, “Scuzi. Ono question. How many coins did you toss in the fountain? What was your wish, If I could ask?”

Jarrod decided to give Lorenzo a simpler version of his request. “I wanted to forget my old boyfriend.”

He continued, “and how many coins did you throw in?” Lorenzo seemed desperate to know all the details.

Jarrod answered. “I tossed in the two coins my aunt gave me. Why?”

Lorenzo chuckled. “Two coins in the fountain of Trevi means you find love. Especially if that’s what you wish for.”

Jarrod looked deeply into this sexy Italian man’s eyes and thought, I could do worse than fall for this hunky European stud.

Lorenzo motioned towards his Vespa cycle. “Maybe we see if we can make your wish come true? Stella and my Zia did go through a lot of trouble to make sure we met. We should at least get to know each other better. I would love to show you my favorite café.”

Jarrod climbed onto the back of Lorenzo’s Vespa and hugged him tightly as he raced through the streets of Rome. He could feel Lorenzo’s six-pack abs through his shirt as he pressed his hips tightly up against Lorenzo’s backside.

The two young men drank coffee, strolled through the streets of Rome, and visited every sight imaginable. The day seemed never to end as they returned home in the early hours of the following day.

Jarrod couldn’t help but think that Rome is truly a magical place, and the men are as sexy as they are sweet and romantic.

He soon learned that his aunt was healthy, spry, and fit. She and her friend’s plan to get him out of his rut worked perfectly since he received just what he wished for; a man he could love, who would love him back.

Just like his parents, he met his partner in Italy. It seems what they say about throwing two coins and making a wish at the fountain of Trevi is true: You’ll most certainly fall in love.

The post An Italian Affair appeared first on JC Calciano.

Jock for Sale

Scottie was an ideal high school senior. Clean-cut, polite, adorably friendly, and cute in a way that girls would flirtatiously giggle as he passed by. Although Scottie wasn’t forthcoming about being gay, most of the students knew, but no one cared.
He lived in a small rural town where everyone knew each other and their business. His neighbors often referred to him as “raised right” as he was always eager to help anyone in need.
A self-proclaimed comic books nerd and horror fan, Scottie stayed mainly to himself and focused on his passion for movies and reading. In school, he was well-liked but not popular. The most popular boy in school was Brock Livingston. Brock was a swoon-worthy stud, tall, beefy, and beautiful. He was the all-American boy everyone wanted to be with.
Brock’s main interests seemed to be only sports, partying, and hanging out with his “bros.” He didn’t seem interested in one particular girl. It was known that he had the pick of the litter and was too much of a gentleman to kiss and tell who his conquests were.
Of all the townsfolk who admired Brock, no one was a bigger fan of his than Scottie. The two boys have been friendly acquaintances since grade school. Scottie always suspected Brock was secretly more of a nerd than the hunky jock-boy type he portrayed. He also knew that Brock was very aware of his own reputation, and he would most likely hang out with his “bros” on the sports teams he played with far more than a dorky gay student. For that reason, Scottie did not talk to him.
***
With graduation upon them and summer about to start, parades, prom, and parties were in full swing. Scottie knew that most parties came and went without him ever knowing about them. Most young people would be upset by not being included in school events, but Scottie didn’t mind. He had his hobbies to keep him company and believed that his time was best served by studying for the exams to ensure he got into a prestigious college.
One day, on his way home from class, Scotty overheard his class’s president, Pricilla, standing with a bunch of girls cackling about the church’s auction that upcoming Sunday. Pricilla was a dark-haired, imposing girl with a loud voice and dominating presence. She was also clever and funny and commanded an audience wherever she went.
Scottie smiled hello at the group as he walked by. He could hear her loud proclamation that it would be a “memorable weekend.” Pricilla boasted that there was a big fund-raiser coming up on Saturday at the local parish. Donations of gifts, services, and crafts were being accepted to raise money, but none of the items were as desirable as the auctioning of a “dream date” with several of the more popular students.
“Oh my god, could you imagine going on a date with Brock? I would die before he even picked me up!” One girl screamed, prompting a burst of laughter from Pricilla and her friends.
Scottie was intrigued. “What’s going on? Who is being auctioned when and where?” He pretended to be more interested in the event than in his opportunity to see Brock.
“This Sunday at St. William! They’re auctioning off the entire football team and the cheerleaders to raise money.” Without missing a beat, Pricilla sharply queried, “Which football player are you planning on bidding on, Scottie?”
The girls erupted into a burst of laughter, intending to embarrass Scottie.
Without flinching, he replied, “I’ll probably bid on the entire team. Why stop at one hot jock when I could date a dozen?” he sarcastically asserted.
The girls howled with laughter, “Oh my God, you’re right! No need to be selfish about it. Maybe we could join you?”
Scottie joined them in their laughter. “Fine,” he responded. “But I warn you; you’ll need to share my leftovers.”
Pricilla smirked at Scottie, seemingly to show approval of his statement. Scottie then continued along his way, proud he wasn’t intimidated by the girls.
****
Sunday morning came, and although Scottie rarely attended church, he would be sure to go today. He was excited to watch the auction and eager to get a glimpse of his dream man, Brock.
***
The whole town came out for the fund-raiser. The packed auditorium buzzed with the anticipation of bidding on an evening with some of the school’s most popular boys and girls. The excitement was palpable as everyone settled in for the show.
A hush fell over the crowd as the auctioneer stood up at the podium and invited the participants up on stage. Murmurs and whispers abound as the anticipation of who would be paired up with whom and how much money they would raise for the church.
The first student took their turn to be auctioned. It was Kaitlyn, the head cheerleader. She wore a cute, tight outfit that seemed racy for church. As the bidding began, the boys hooted and howled as they competed for a date with her. The event was good-natured fun, and the crowd enjoyed the spectacle.
After Kaitlyn, it was one of the football player’s turn to step up to the stage; like with Kaitlyn, there was hollering and whistling as the girls got their turn to bid on the boy.
Each team member and cheer squad were eventually auctioned off—each raising a few hundred dollars for the church.
Soon the event would be over, but there was only one more student to bid on, and that was Brock. Scottie was intrigued to see who the lucky girl who got to go on a date with him would be and was curious how much Brock would raise.
Brock took his turn and stepped to the front of the stage. He was wearing tight jeans and Chuck Taylor sneakers. He wore his football jersey that accented his broad shoulders and hulking arms. A collective gasp from the audience confirmed that Scottie wasn’t the only one in the audience who approved of the sight before them.
The auctioneer started the auction, and a bid came in instantly for $100. It came from Karen Mullhoney, one of the most popular girls in school. It was no surprise that she would bid on Brock. The entire school knew how she felt about him. Everyone expected she would ultimately win the date.
The next bid was from Sandra, a no-nonsense goth girl. The crowd murmured in surprise. People wondered why Sandra would bid against Karen. Scottie guessed her offer was not intended to win a date with Brock but rather to spite Karen. The two girls had a discrete lifelong rivalry, and it was now becoming more evident to the town.
Bidding between the two girls quickly reached $500, and the crowd became eager to see who would win. Suddenly, and without warning, Pricilla did something that shocked everyone.
Without provocation, she announced loudly. “Scottie, we all know that you’d rather go on a date with Brock. Why don’t you bid on him?”
A hundred eyes instantly turned and focused on Scottie. He was in shock.
WHAT HAD JUST HAPPENED? How did he get brought into this? What should I do?
He thought quickly. He knew if he retreated now, it would make matters worse.
Own it. Be honest and make a joke out of it. That’s the best way to diffuse this awkward situation.
“I’d love to bid on Brock, but $500 bucks is a lot. Who has that kind of money?”
The audience erupted with laughter. Scottie felt instantly better. Maybe he just got away with this dreadfully tricky situation.
The auctioneer attempted to lock the last bid as he barked, “$500 once…. $500 twice….”
A voice called out above the crowd. “HOLD IT ONE MINUTE. Let the boy bid!”
Scottie was shocked again. Why would anyone say that? What was he going to do?
Suddenly, the sweet older gentleman seated next to him tapped him on the shoulder and handed him a fist full of money: tens, the twenties, and single dollar bills. A minute later, the woman to his left-handed him even more money.
What was going on? It baffled Scott.
Soon his friends and neighbors were all passing money through the crowd toward him to help him put in a bid for a date.
The money kept flowing towards him, as did the crowd’s reassuring nods, winks, and smiles.
The auctioneer was aware of what was happening, as were Sandra and Karen. Everyone sat quietly to support Scottie and eagerly awaited his next move.
Scottie took the handful of money and stood up. He called up to the auctioneer.
“I do not know how much money is here, but I could tell you it’s a lot. I’m going to bid it all for an evening with Brock!”
The auctioneer slammed his gavel and shouted, “SOLD, to the young man in the back for a boatload of cash!”
The auditorium applauded as Scottie chuckled at the ridiculousness of the situation. Brock stood on stage, confused about what had just happened. He did, however, know that he now had a date with Scottie on Saturday night.
***
Saturday night arrived. It was the evening of his date with Brock. Scottie couldn’t believe Brock was actually going through with tonight. He was impressed that Brock was a good sport about everything.
Scottie couldn’t help but be nervous as if this were an actual date. He did his best to primp and prepare. Even though it was just a silly formality, he wanted to look good when he met Brock.
Before Saturday, Brock texted him, confirming his prize. The text was simple and to the point. It read, “Congrats on winning the auction. You won a night with me, so wanna come to my place? I’ll order a pizza.”
Scottie assumed Brock was attempting to avoid being seen in public on a date with another boy, so he just replied, “Sure, pizza sounds great.”
***
Scottie arrived at Brock’s house at the arranged time. Brock answered the door looking like the sexy hunk that he was.
God, why does this man have to be so hot? This is going to make things so much more difficult for me, Scottie thought.
It surprised Scottie that Brock was the only one home. He explained, “My folks are at our lake house this weekend. I forgot we were going away when I agreed to the auction. Want a beer or wine or something. They have a full bar.”
Scottie thought to himself; I’ll have a quick slice and get out of here. Best to let this stud off the hook as quickly as possible.
“I’ll drink anything,” Scottie replied, attempting to be easy.
“Pizza is Italian food. You’re supposed to have wine with Italian, so let’s do that.”
Brock opened a bottle of wine and escorted Scottie to the dining room table. The table was set modestly but thoughtfully with linen napkins and silverware.
“I’ll pour the wine, and the pizza is in the kitchen. Let me grab it.” It impressed Scottie at how thoughtful Brock was being. He could have easily been weird about tonight, but he had a great sense of humor and was surprisingly eager and considerate.
Brock initialed the conversation as the two young men sat at the table. “That was some crazy shit at the church the other day.”
Scottie swallowed a bite of pepperoni pizza as he replied, “Yeah, that was nuts, right? I have to say; I’m grateful and impressed with how you handled that whole thing.”
Brock simply stated, “It flattered me that I could raise the most money for the church and now get to know you better. Can you believe we’ve known each other since kindergarten and never really hung out?”
“Well, your interests are a lot different from mine. It’s only natural,” Scottie humbly answered.
Brock didn’t miss a beat as he replied, “No offense, but you don’t know my interests. They may not be so different from yours after all.”
Brock looked at Scottie with an intense gaze that made Scottie oddly uncomfortable.
Finally, Brock spoke again, breaking the silence, “Dude, you’re so oblivious; I’m the one who told Priscilla to have you bid on me at the auction… it was my friends who started passing you the money so that you could pay to bid on me!”
IS THIS A JOKE? Scottie wondered.
Scottie was speechless. He sat silently until Brock again interrupted the quiet.
“I hope I didn’t overstep. It’s just that you’re impossible to get hold of in school. You always seem to slip away when I try to talk to you.”
Scottie knew he was right. He did head in the other direction when he saw Brock. But it wasn’t because he wasn’t interested in him. He was just afraid he’d embarrass himself by saying something silly.
Brock refilled the wine glasses and helped himself to another slice, and then he put one on Scottie’s plate.
Scottie looked at the pizza and then at Brock.
“You know, suddenly I’m not in the mood for any more pizza.”
Brock’s face was stunned. He instantly thought he ruined the evening by being too forward or revealing his crazy plan to get Scottie to go on a date with him.
Scottie pushed his plate away as he stood and inquired. “Would you mind if we skipped dinner and went straight to the desert? Suddenly I’m in the mood for something sweet.”
Brock wholeheartedly agreed and asked, “How’s this?” as he tenderly grasped Scottie’s hand and escorted him to the nearby couch.
“Alexa, play the band, Satin Martini,” Brock’s request for hip and melodic lounge music instantly set a romantic tone.
“Dude, I love that band!” Scottie commented enthusiastically.
“I told you we had more in common than you thought,” Brock teased as he friskily pinned Scottie down on the couch. Brock’s mammoth body rested on top of him while his mouth eagerly consumed Scottie’s hungry lips.
Brock’s powerful body felt amazing as he grinded against Scottie’s pelvis. This mountainous jock couldn’t be more powerful yet tender as he grasped Scottie by the back of the head and enthusiastically pulled him towards him, kissing him more passionately than before.
Soon after, they made their way to Brock’s bedroom, where they eagerly stripped off each other’s clothes and tumbled into the bed together.
The two young men’s tireless endless lovemaking session continued late into the evening.
The following morning, as Scottie lay quietly, peacefully laid in bed looking at Brock blissfully sleep, he couldn’t help but think to himself, —- I really need to go to the church’s functions more often.

The post Jock for Sale appeared first on JC Calciano.

Secret Office Crush

Derek was slight yet strapping in his build. His wholesome, innocent, conservative appearance made him the perfect intern for a bustling corporation.

A recent graduate from film school, the university’s career placement program put him at a high-end talent agency that represented fitness models, powerbrokers, and movie stars.

It was his first job out of college, and he was eager to use his entry-level position to climb the corporate ladder and one day be a top-tier artist representative.

Celebrities passed through the doors of the mega-talent agency on a daily basis, but none of them were of interest to him. He only had eyes for one man in the building, Grant Goldwyn. With a stylish haircut and exotic Mediterranean good looks at six-foot-one inch, Grant was a few years older than Derek and everything he wanted in a man. He was sweet, intelligent, articulate, and oh-so-hot. Grant was someone who would not only be the perfect boyfriend for Derek but a success at any endeavor he applied himself to.

Grant was Barry Brunswick’s assistant. Barry was the head honcho at the company. He not only represented the most impressive clients and stars, but his liking you was the key to advancement at the job.

Everything about the agency was high-tech. Most of the employees there didn’t receive physical mail anymore in the office. Everyone was predominantly paper-free by now, except for Barry. He was old-school and liked his letters written on actual paper and his boxes and mail brought to him. Unlike his contemporaries, Barry received multiple letters and packages every day. Most found it annoying that the boss still used “snail mail,” but Derek didn’t mind at all. He was delighted with Barry’s traditional approach to receiving his mail since his internship was working in the mailroom. Delivering Barry’s post insured his employment and provided him with the opportunity to see his man-crush, Grant.

Every day, Barry would receive either a letter or a package that required delivery. Derek would eagerly await its arrival and then quickly run it up and deliver it to Grant.

Sometimes, Derek would casually bump into Grant in the halls, often prompting his undersexed imagination to go into overdrive.

Derek’s first daydream about Grant unexpectedly happened on his third day at the firm. It took place in one of the dining areas in the building when Derek entered the commissary, expecting it to be empty. Rather than calmly entering, he had rushed into the room to grab a Coke, at the same time that Grant had poured himself a hot tea. The two men collided, causing Grant to spill the scalding water on himself. Grant insisted he was fine and explained that Derek need not worry. He assured him that he had a second shirt and tie at his desk that he could put on. As Grant unbuttoned the wet shirt, time seemed to slow down for Derek as Grant revealed his sexy body. Derek became flush at the sight of Grant’s hairless chest, square pectoral muscles, and ripped abs. He stood frozen, motionless, imagining his crush’s toned, hot body against his.

Dude, Are you good? – Is everything okay? Are you okay…?

Derek snapped out of his fantasy when Grant repeatedly asked him if everything was alright.

Derek was shocked to see Grant holding an un-spilled cup of hot water safely in his hands. Clearly, no accident had occurred – It was all in his mind. Derek scampered away, embarrassed at having such a vivid and realistic fantasy right in front of the man of his dreams!

The second of Derek’s fantastical daydreams happened when the two men bumped into each other in the parking garage. It was during his lunch break when he ran into the garage to grab his phone charger from his car. Grant had just parked his new BMW in the spot next to him and exited with his food. Without either of the men noticing the other, they turned and collided.

Derek’s imagination ran wild as he fantasized about Grant offering to show off the back seat of his new car.

“Do you like the smell of a new car? I just got this BMW, and it’s incredibly roomy, especially the back seat. I’ve been dying to show it off. Would you like to see it?” He asked with a wink.

Derek replied, “Sure,” thus inviting Grant to press him hard against the automobile and kiss him deeply. Grant immediately wrapped his arms around Derek’s torso pressing his lips against him. The two men kissed hard. It was just a prelude to what was about to happen on the car’s luxurious, plush leather back seat.

“Hey man – Forgot your charger in the car? I do that all the time” Grant chuckling at the situation, instantly snapped Derek out of his fantasy and into a panic. He hastily retreated to the safety of the mailroom again.

Derek did his best to keep his deliveries to Grant and his boss Barry quick -since he knew that the more time he spent with Grant, the more he’d dream about him.

It was the Fourth of July weekend, and everyone in the office had packed up for the holiday. As Derek locked the mailroom to head home, one final package arrived for urgent delivery. The small box was marked, “Hand Deliver to Barry Brunswick.”

Derek quickly grabbed the box and hastily ran it up to the executive floor in hopes of catching one last glimpse of Grant.

The elevator seemed to take forever to arrive since everyone was heading down to the parking lot.

Seeing Grant is the perfect end to my day! I’ll just run up the stairs.

Derek rushed up the stairs and headed down the long hall. He was happy to see Grant still at his desk.

Ah, I’m not too late. He’s still here!

“Last minute special delivery for Mr. Brunswick!” Derek shouted, excited to see his secret crush.

Grant was pleased to see Derek, too; he must have been expecting the package for his boss based on how happy he was to receive the small box.

As the two young men exchanged quick pleasantries, Grant’s boss turned off the lights and closed his office door in preparation to leave for the day.

“What’s this? Did someone send me something? This late in the day?” He rhetorically asked.

Grant quickly responded, “I’ll handle it. I’m sure it’s nothing that needs your immediate attention. Enjoy the long weekend. I’ll take care of it.”

Barry insisted he open the box and hastily snapped it from Grant’s hands, “I’ll open it now, especially since I won’t be in the office again until Tuesday.”

Grant attempted to focus his attention elsewhere as his boss tore into the small box. Barry loudly exclaimed in an aggravated voice. “Is this a joke? Who’s sending me my own stapler?”

Barry quickly focused on Derek as he barked, “You. From the mailroom; Find out who this is from and how they got into my office to steal my stapler. Someone must be playing some kind of a joke on me, and I want to know who it is!”

Derek panicked at the frustrated tone from the big boss.

“Of course, Sir. I’ll see what I can find out. I’m so sorry about this!”

Barry continued. “It’s not your fault. Just find out who is up to these shenanigans.”

“Yes, sir,” Derek replied as he made a hasty retreat back towards the stairwell and down towards the mailroom to safety.

Minutes later. Derek was back in the small, cluttered mailroom, trying to catch his breath from the trauma of the incident.

What am I supposed to do? How the hell am I going to find out who took his stapler? My job is to just drop off packages to the person whose name is on the box. Am I going to lose this job over this?

As Derek’s mind reeled about what to do, he looked up. Everyone had left the building, and he was alone.

I really screwed up this time. I’m going to be fired for sure. I’ll lose my job and never see Grant again.

As Derek’s heart raced and his mind tried to make sense of what happened, he looked up towards the door. Grant had been slowly and quietly moving toward him without him realizing it.

Derek was now all too familiar with his fantasies about Grant, so he decided to just give in to his daydream. As he approached, Grant tenderly stated, “I came down here because I have a confession for you. I want you to know that I’m the one who put the stapler in the box for my boss. I’ve been the one behind all the deliveries he receives. All those boxes and envelopes sent to Barry are because I want to see you when you deliver them to me. I’m here to tell you that I’ve had a crush on you since the day you started, and I’ve been desperate to kiss you.”

Grant took Derek in his arms and pressed his hungry mouth against his. The two kissed intimately, lovingly. Grant grabbed Derek’s ass firmly and squeezed it in his strong hands. Grant then lifted him on the counter and pulled him between his legs snuggly so Derek could feel how excited Grant was to have him in his arms.

Derek was impressed with what was now pressing up against the front of his chinos.

As the two men pressed against the other in a fiery frenzy of desire, Derek suddenly stopped and pulled back with a silly smirk on his face.

“Is everything okay?” Grant asked, confused at the sudden change in Derek’s enthusiasm.

“Yes – I’m great – better than great. I don’t want this daydream to end,” exclaimed Derek “this is the best fantasy I’ve had about you yet. It feels so real!”

Grant laughed as he wrapped Derek snuggly between the legs, pulling him closer. “Is this real enough?”

Derek’s eyes lit up as he realized that he wasn’t daydreaming this time after all. Grant was there, in his mailroom, between his legs, and in his arms!

“So, I’m not in trouble?” Derek wondered.

“Only if you stop kissing me,” Grant replied with a heavy eager breath.
“Barry won’t remember the stapler package by the time Tuesday rolls around, and even if he does, I’ll tell him it was just a ploy so I could get you to come to my desk and eventually, hopefully, in my bed.”

Derek couldn’t believe what was happening. Without a second thought, he declared, “There’s a couch in the executive suite! Being the mailroom guy, I have keys to every door in the building. Where should we go?”

Grant replied, “What’s wrong with right here? I can’t wait to have you. This desk will do just fine.” Grant continued as he skillfully unfastened Derek’s chinos, prompting them to drop to his ankles.

Derek wholeheartedly agreed…The desk will be perfect.

The post Secret Office Crush appeared first on JC Calciano.