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All the usual disclaimers that are usual apply here. This is a work of fiction involving sex acts between consenting persons of various conditions of life. If you can't handle that or if you are not of the legal age or mindset, go no further but remove this material from your possession forthwith.
If you have faggot sensitivity, you ought not read this story. I'd really like to hear from some of you with either positive or negative comments. I have no idea really if I'm bringing any of you pleasure or what it is you'd like me to write about. I only hear from a few people on each story and that's not much feedback for all the work I put into writing these. I'd really like to hear from you so I'll have some idea how I'm doing. Thanks.
I used two returns between paragraphs to simplify formatting for you.
Try to keep in mind that while 42 is the meaning of life, it is not the only possible solution. Jon
Tris
by Jon Hold
jonhold@earthlink.net
This story is dedicated to M & B. Two good friends who helped me understand the basis for this story. I love you guys.
I've gotten to an age where I really don't expect that much out of my sexual feelings other than to be able to go to bed with a good story written by one of my fellow authors and have a good wank before drifting off to sleep. However, the fates being as capricious as ever, this seems to have changed. I'll try to explain, if I may beg your indulgence and your ability to let an old man wander a bit...
My legs have been swelling and causing me no end of pain so I made arrangements with the local YMCA to use their Jacuzzi three days a week. Wednesday was my first visit and one of the employees at the YMCA took my check for the monthly fee and then showed me where to get a towel and key for a locker and where everything was at and how to use the Jacuzzi. Very few people were there in the early afternoon just as I'd been told on the phone and I was able to relax and let the Jaccuzzi do it's work. The only irritation to my relaxed state was the overly solicitous attendant who kept checking on me. I finally asked him if anything was wrong, and he just said that he understood that my heart wasn't in real good condition and that he was just trying to make sure that I was okay. I told him that I promised not to die if he'd just leave me alone so I could relax. He did leave me alone, mostly, but I could tell he wasn't very happy. I sort of appreciated his concern, but really couldn't relax with him popping in and out of the room.
When I came in on Friday I thanked the attendant for his concern and tried to explain to him that I startled very easily and his opening and closing the door really kept me from relaxing very well. I told him that I understood his need to make sure nothing bad happened while he was in charge but that I'd rather he propped the door open so he could look in whenever he wanted to without disturbing me so much. He smiled and thanked me but said that he hoped he would have a solution a little later that would suit us both better.
I had just started getting relaxed when there was a knock on the door. It sort of surprised me, because the big tiled Jaccuzzi was actually open to the public and I had no sort of private rights to the room. I called out, "Come in!" anyway. My friendly neighborhood attendant came in, closely followed by a young hard-body wearing only a towel and a big, somewhat tentative, smile. The attendant said, "This is my friend 'Tris'. He's a LVN and has changed his work-out schedule a little bit so that he can take his Jaccuzzi at the same time you take yours. If you don't mind him sharing the pool with you, I thought you might be more comfortable with someone who didn't keep coming and going...?" The attendant wore a smile on his face too. One that I'd seen only once before --- in the movie "Fiddler on the Roof" --- on the face of the matchmaker!
I shook my head in resignation and sunk a little deeper into the water. "It's a public pool, welcome to the warm." was all I could think of to say. I politely (okay, stupidly, but the guy seemed a little bashful and I didn't want to seem like a totally irascible dirty old man) averted my eyes while he hung up his towel and got into the bubbly water.
He sat there in his corner of the Jaccuzzi, rigidly erect, while I lay in my diagonally opposite corner trying to relax with Mr. Tense shaking in his corner.
"Look. I'm sorry if I sounded like an asshole, but..."
"Oh... No, Sir. You don't need to explain to me, Sir. And I really don't mind changing my routine at all. I like it when I can be helpful."
I started to sit up so I could deal with this situation, but a tremendous cramp tightened up my calf and made me go stiff with pain. I tried to grab my calf, but there was so much edema that I couldn't really bend my leg very much and I flopped back in the water, out of balance. Tris quickly slid across the submerged bench he was sitting on and grabbed my leg, giving me something to balance against to regain my equilibrium as I felt his sensitive hands quickly find the knotted muscle in my lower leg. His strong, stout fingered hands began massaging my leg with deep powerful motions that quickly began to reduce the tonic rigidity of my cramping muscles. I just leaned back on my elbows to keep my head above water and let this young man have his way with me.
His ministrations felt so good that my groin reacted to the pleasurable feelings by saluting him. I'm sure he could see it if he just looked, but somehow it just didn't matter to me. The only thing that counted was the relief he was giving my leg. I just leaned my head back and moaned in pleasure.
His well trained hands quickly reduced the cramped muscles but, somewhat tentatively, he continued to work on my bloated and misshapen legs. I lay there, propped up on my elbows as I lay in the hot, bubbling water and looked at the young man who was doing such nice things to my leg. He became aware of my scrutiny, but just sort of blushed and ducked his head to focus on his self- appointed task. Memories of myself as a young man, just a few years older than this boy, and how much I loved human contact, massage and caring for others made me feel a bit lost and sad, but strong as well.
Tris proved to be an equitable and straightforward person, if deferential. Every time I showed up for my Jacuzzi, he would be in the room waiting for me. Never in the Jacuzzi, but sitting on a bench against the wall, simply waiting for me to show up. He would rise as soon as I entered the room, take my towel and hang it on one of the wall pegs next to his towel and then help me into the hot, roiling water. He would stay with me quietly, never talking or acting until I spoke first or asked him to do something. We quickly developed a routine where I would soak a bit and then ask how he was doing. He would offer some short, polite answer and then ask how I was doing. Once I'd answered he would ask if I'd like a massage and I'd usually say "Yes." He would massage my back and then help me lay back, putting my head on a rolled up towel he had prepared before my arrival. After massaging my legs he'd wait for me to start moving and then help me up and out of the tub.
One day, about three weeks into this routine, my legs were particularly sore and weak. He noticed I was having trouble and without even asking helped me back to the dressing rooms and into the showers. He got the temperature adjusted and helped me rinse off. He stayed close to me, just in case, as we dried off and then sat on a bench near my locker as I dressed. The fact that he was still totally nude didn't seem to bother him at all. As I dressed I looked Tris over. An obviously healthy young man, his body was solid and firmly masculine. The perpetual half-smile on his face fit widely into a rugged, squared off jawline that fit neatly into the thick mass of his corded neck which in turn was supported by heavy masses of muscles from his back and wide shoulders. His pectorals were smooth mounds accented by perky nubbins that looked as if they might be highly reactive to the right sort of tender manipulation. Muscle defined ribs reached out to shadow verged undulations covering his tummy. A light covering of dark hair shadowed his belly below a good looking innie bellybutton, the central trail fading out just before it reached the attenuated pubic patch. His testicles were notably large and separate in a very thin-skinned and loosely hanging scrotum. His circumcised shaft was nicely sized to fit his body and had an interesting large vein meandering across the bottom of the plump tube. Legs as solid as tree-trunks rounded off and balanced the rest of the fine physique, their size keeping the genitals from seeming outsized.
Extremely polite and gentle, his actions belied his looks. Muscular, rock-solid and extremely masculine looking, he was handsome in a squared-off, Irish sort of way that cloaked his extreme shyness and passive demeanor. I was very taken by this young man and deeply regretted the arrival of my own Jacuzzi at my home.
I went to the "Y" for one final visit to thank the attendant for all his help and to say, "Good-bye" to Tris.
The attendant was profuse in his thanks for the "gift" I gave him, accepting it only after I assured him that no one would ever know about it, there being a rigid rule against employees accepting tips. Tris, on the other hand, seemed to shrink into himself after I told him this would be my last night. He continued to massage my legs, but refused to raise his head and look at me. I really didn't know what to do and Tris kept working on my legs as if he had no intention of ever stopping. I finally sat up and told him that I had to leave. I stood up, but Tris just sat there. I put my two fingers under his chin and lifted his face. He was crying.
"Tris," I asked, "Do you workout on the machines or with free weights?"
"Free weights." he answered, almost breaking out in sobs.
"And you have your own car?"
"A motorcycle."
"I've got a set of weight-lifting equipment in a converted garage. How would you like to come over to my house on Monday, Wednesday and Friday? You could work out on my weights and continue helping me in my Jacuzzi. I couldn't afford to pay you much, but enough to pay for gas --- and I could offer you a home cooked meal instead of college cafeteria food."
Tris's face lit up into one of the most beautiful smiles I've ever seen. He was truly radiantly beautiful as he rose to his feet and hugged me. "Thank you, Jon. That would be wonderful. I could quit paying to come here and work out in private again the way I prefer. I've got plenty of money, and I'll be saving my "Y" dues, so there's no need to pay me or feed me or anything. Please, could I please still help you? Please?"
Laughing, I pecked a quick kiss at the tip of his nose and swatted his butt. "Come on, Boy. Help me get out of here before we both start crying."
Tris started coming around right after his last class on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. He'd help out with housework or help me in the yard before going into the old garage to work out. He started coming by on Saturdays to mow the lawns and hanging around to help me with chores. We'd sit around and talk or play chess or a card game or something. Our time together became important to both of us. Tris told me that he had been raised by his mother and four older sisters. His mom had chased off his drunk of an Irish father before he was born and had lived with another woman for as long as he could remember. She could hardly stand having him around so, especially after he reached puberty. He was happy to be attending a college several hundred miles from "home" and not having a bunch of females controlling every step of his life.
Tris had been forced to be neatly dressed at all times when at home and reveled in being naked any time he could. My place is a secluded old farmhouse and convincing Tris to wear clothes was a losing battle, one I actually preferred to lose. Watching him mowing the lawn or working in a flowerbed in the bright sunlight was a joy to my tired old eyes.
I'd had an attached garage built onto the house and had the old carriage house/garage converted into a "play room". The pool table, ping-pong table, darts, weights and bar had been joined by a glassed in area for the Jacuzzi and we spent hours out there, naked and enjoying life. Tris started spending Friday nights in my guest room to keep from having to drive all the way back to school, only to return in the morning. Whenever I had to spend a few days at the hospital Tris would stay at my place to feed the animals and take care of things. We were both very happy with our lives.
I came in from town one Friday and noted that Tris, seldom moody, was very noticeably subdued. I asked him what was wrong and he just went over and got a piece of folded paper out of his jeans. He handed it to me and stood there like a naughty boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. I opened up the paper and stared at the biggest mess of D's and F's I'd ever seen on a semester report. Keeping my anger just barely in check, I told Tris to finish his work-out. I went into the house and tried to cool down as I changed out of my suit into some comfortable jeans and an soft pull-over shirt. Then I puttered around in the kitchen until I finally took the bit in my teeth and went out back to the playroom. Tris was sitting there naked, waiting for me.
"Tris, I think you'd better go home and explain this mess you've made of your schooling to your mother. I'll see you when you get back." Without another word I went back to the house and sat rigidly in front of the silent television until I heard Tris' motorcycle crunch it's way over the gravel leading to the county road.
Tris came back on Tuesday, even though he had the rest of the week of vacation time, explaining that he just couldn't stand the atmosphere at home and not knowing what I was going to do. I lead him upstairs and into the guest room he'd been using. I'd had the old four-poster bed taken out and replaced by a simple twin bed. In the open space was a student desk and a new Macintosh computer. My feelings for Tris, and my hopes for him had overwhelmed me when I'd seen his failing grades and I'd made up my mind that, one way or another, I was not going to be responsible for this boy failing in life. I gave him a chance to look around the room and realize what I had done, and then looked him directly in the eyes.
"Tris, I won't tolerate your failing in school. No more than I'll excuse your using me as an excuse for failing. You have a choice to make. Either you walk out of here right now and get on with the rest of your life, and I'll wish you the very best life has to offer, or you can move into this room and live here as the son I've always wished I could have. In which case you'll be responsible for your schoolwork and your chores around here and you'll be treated exactly as you deserve. Follow me. I want to show you exactly what that means."
I lead the way downstairs and out to the playroom. "Strip down!" I ordered Tris. Pointing to the hooks on the wall where he usually hung up his clothes. Trepidaciously, he slowly took off his clothes and stood there waiting for me. I walked over and sat down on the end of the weight lifting bench and motioned for him to come over. When he got close I took him by the wrist and guided him down across my lap. I moved his muscular body into position and then used my hand to increase the bloodflow in his buttocks. He took it silently for a while, and then started to sob. Finally bursting out into tears he tried to cover up his ass where I was spanking him but I just brushed his hands aside and continued letting him know just exactly how disappointed in him I was. I didn't stop until both cheeks were bright red and there was a puddle of tears on the floor under his head.
Standing him up, I led him over to the wall and pushed his face into the corner. "Stay there until you've made up your mind!" I ordered.
I went into the house and turned up the TV loud enough that I wouldn't be able to hear his motorbike leave and sat there, seeing nothing, my heart pounding in agony.
About three and a half eternities went by until I heard the back door open. Tris came into the living room fully dressed. Quietly, deferentially, he asked, "Dad, can I use the van to go pick my stuff up from school?"
Tris will be graduating this semester. He's managed to end up across my lap several more times and has spent enough time in the corner to have built a good sized sailboat. But, other than that one bad semester, he's kept his straight A's up and will be graduating with honors. He's only asked for one thing for graduation. He wants to move out of his little student room into the big master bedroom with me. I think I'm going to let him.
---EOF---