The chimes of the clock almost absorbed the ringing doorbell. Mick counted out the hours: three o'clock. He put down the book he had been dozing under, pushed himself up off the couch and crossed the living room to the front door, unsure if he'd perhaps dreamed the doorbell going off. The window in the door was covered by a sheer semi-transparent material, but he could quite easily make out the figure of a young man standing on his front step. He appeared quite thin and had long hair, and his stance was a bit timid, but that was all Mick could make out through the diaphanous layer. Intrigued, he opened the door wide and greeted the young man, who blabbed a nervous self-introduction.
"Hi, I'm Carter," he said.
He explained in a well-rehearsed way that he was a representative for a communications company that recently upgraded its service in the area and could now boast more reliable and faster home internet than any other provider in the region, and for less money.
It so happened that Mick and his wife weren't fully satisfied with their current internet provider for a number of reasons and he found himself interested in hearing the young sales agent out.
"I'm Mick," he said, extending his hand. Carter took it and they shook hands. "Would you like to come in?"
"Thanks."
Once they were inside, Mick shut the door firmly and gestured for Mick to follow him, ushering him through the living room and to the kitchen, directing him to take a seat at the kitchen table.
"Don't mind me saying this, Carter, but you look young for a salesman."
"I'm twenty-one. Working my way through college."
Mick nodded and poured them each a cup of coffee from an almost-fresh pot. Mick checked the young man's preferences and added cream to both their cups. Mick joined the salesman at the table and appraised Carter furtively as he sorted through his brochures.
Mick liked the young man's looks. He sported a thin, well-trimmed beard which was a little redder than his long brown hair. The eyes were wide, a shade between blue and green. His facial features were pleasant, the pale skin unmarked by acne. He wore glasses and seemed to hide behind them a bit, perhaps to allay his nerves. His wiry frame was probably more powerful than it appeared at first glance.
Carter looked up from his paperwork and almost caught Mick in his examination of him, but the older man instantly turned his attention to one of the brochures Carter slid across the table toward him.
Carter explained the innovations the company had undertaken to improve internet delivery to its rural customers in this region in a voice that was well-modulated and perhaps deliberately pitched to sound more confident than the salesman really was.
That confidence grew as the conversation continued. Mick nodded in all the right places and established a link of eye contact early on. He was slightly distracted because he felt the first stirrings of an attraction for the young sales agent and he began imagining himself making a move on him.
Why not? His wife would not be home from work for more than two hours. She knew that he was bi, of course, and she looked the other way when it came to the fulfillment of his same-sex desires, which he only satisfied fairly rarely. He imagined that his wife felt free to conduct her own affairs with his approval in exchange. They always came home to each other. If this had been her day off instead of his, would she be home seducing this young man today? The thought turned Mick on, but he dismissed it in favour of meeting his own needs, if possible. Could this be an opportunity to do that?
Mick himself was white, fifty and his once-black hair was now salt-and-pepper. He was a few pounds overweight, which showed on his belly, but he was in good shape otherwise. He was just under six feet tall, probably an inch or two taller than Carter.
"Well, I like the package you're offering," Mick told Carter, aware of the double-entendre even if Carter was not. "Naturally, I have to talk to my wife about it before making a decision. You understand?"
"Of course," Carter said politely, expecting to be deferred to another day.
"I'm texting her now." Mick picked up his cell and began to thumb the keyboard. Carter's hopeful look shone on his face. "She usually has a break around this time of the afternoon, so she should get back to me soon if you have a few minutes to wait."
Mick could see Carter weighing his options: leave and try to make more sales in this area or put extra time into closing this deal.
Carter looked up from his brochures at Mick with his decision. "I have a few minutes, then I'll have to set out and save your neighbours from slow internet speeds."
Carter grinned and Mick grinned back.
Mick put his phone down and decided it was time to turn on the charm. "You know, you're very good at your job."
Carter blushed and muttered thanks, taking a drink from the cooling coffee. Mick easily led him into a discussion about his job and could feel Carter's guard dropping. He talked about some of the challenges of the job. Some people didn't like salespeople and came to door with dogs, or, as on a few memorable occasions, with guns. There was all that, the frequent rejection and, of course, all the driving. Carter unconsciously adjusted himself in his seat as he stretched a little.
Mick saw an opening there.
"I used to drive a lot for my job," Mick lied, perceptively diagnosing Carter's discomfort from his movements. "I used to feel it across my shoulders and in the lower back."
"Yeah, me too," Carter said.
"Look, it may be a few minutes until the missus gets back to me. If you want, I could give you a shoulder rub. A little compensation for taking up your time."
He made it sound like the most natural thing in the world.
Carter blushed. "Oh, well, you, um, don't have to do that."
"It's no bother." Mick stood up and walked around behind Carter's chair before the younger man could react. Mick gathered up Carter's long hair and swung it so that it hung down the front of his shoulders instead of over his back. It was fragrant, smelling of shampoo and conditioner. Mick inhaled deeply. Then, pleased that Carter didn't object, Mick put both hands down on the salesman's shoulders and began to rub them and knead them through the fabric of his shirt with powerful fingers.
For long moments, there was an uncomfortable silence. Mick feared that he might have gone too far or too fast. Then, a groan burst from Carter, and Mick smiled to himself.
"You're right on the spot," Carter said between little moans.
Not yet, I'm not, Mick thought to himself. Mick continued on that area of Carter's back for a couple of minutes.
"Oh, thanks," Carter said, tentatively leaning back in the chair and slowly limiting Mick's access. "That was great."
Mick knew that Carter liked what he was doing, so why did he try to call him off? A homophobic impulse, maybe, or fear of another kind? Mick adjusted his stance so that he could see over Carter's shoulders, all the way down into the young man's lap. There was a tent in the denim crotch, and to remove all doubt, it was throbbing. Mick smiled as he realized that the salesman's dick was pumping up and down in his pants.
Emboldened, Mick delicately refused to take the hint to quit, gently pressing his way down Carter's spine to his lower back and pushing him forward again with the power of his kneading hands. If Carter insisted, he would certainly stop, but so far, he had just hinted that Mick could stop if he liked. Carter didn't resist the touch and Mick wished he could be caressing the younger man without a shirt in the way.
The groans continued intermittently as Mick worked his way down to the tailbone for a minute or so. Then his hands worked their way back up Carter's back until they were once more kneading the shoulders. Carter was completely unprepared when Mick let his hands slide down over his shoulders and over the younger's man's chest.
"Oh, sir, that's enough. I'm feeling much better now."
"Are you sure?" Mick rubbed the salesman's hardened nipples through the fabric of his shirt. "I can see from here that your back isn't the only thing that is stiff."
Carter squirmed int the chair, cover his lap with clasped hands. He said he should probably go.
"Well, you can go anytime you like. Would you like me to finish relieving your tension first?"
Carter was wrestling in his mind with the possibilities that were opening before him, which was as much as Mick could hope for. If Carter was turned on, he might yet let Mick have his way, and Mick would make sure it was good for him.
Mick's phone chimed and as as fi he had been resisting the idea of relinquishing his hold over Carter at all, he stepped back from the young man, stepped over to the side of the table where he had been sitting and picked up his phone.
"The missus," he said to Carter. He read her text and quickly replied.
Carter, still seated and making no move to leave, looked at Mick expectantly and his expectations didn't seem to be geared entirely toward sales. Mick grinned at him and Carter looked back, sheepish and embarrassed and still covering his erection.
