He took a long slow breath as he stepped onto the cracked concrete. His first free breath in almost six years and he savored it. His wide chocolate brown nostrils flared, his eyes closed, Neville Sinclair was a free man again. With his long thick arms stretched up above his head he raised to the tip toes of his black leather construction boots and let the breath out with an almost feral grunt. It felt good not to touch the ceiling, or the walls on either side of him, a privilege the 6'5" 240 pound bruiser lusted over on the inside. He had goose bumps he was so excited, the 11 inch log he carried around between his legs was so hard he had to tuck it up against his stomach. An adjustment he didn't mind making out in the open, he relished it.
Twenty three hours a day in a cell alone for six years gives one time to reflect on their life choices and that's exactly what Neville did for the latter portion of his 2007 days as a guest of the United States Department of Corrections. He made several life changing decisions in his time alone, the first being a straight life. Well not exactly. Aside from denouncing a life of crime, he also came to terms with his sexuality. Neville Sinclair was gay, and not by force or proximity. He had always known but given his Christian upbringing and his stature as an all-around jock, Neville never allowed himself indulge his secret fantasies. Before prison he often rationalized his string of failed relationships with the fact that he hated the dumb bitches that he attracted, but after some long complicated self evaluation he came to conclusion that it was him. It wasn't that he hated those women, he just preferred the company of men.
He was in college when he had his first experience, if you could even call jacking off to the sounds of two boys fucking in the next stall of the freshman dorm's communal showers an experience. That's about the time he started watching gay porn and chatting online with like minded men, but could never bring himself to risk his reality. Prison had already done that so he figured what the hell. His parents were already disappointed when he lost his scholarship in his third year and had to return home to join his father's construction company, only to be jailed a year later. At 22, Neville's parents disowned him. They didn't write, didn't put anything on his books, no contact since his arrest. They didn't even come to his trial. As far as he knew he was dead to them, so at 28 Neville figured why not live his own life?
In a five page letter he wrote on his birthday, Neville confessed to his closest confidant of his intentions upon release and the obstacles he needed to overcome to achieve this new freedom. More importantly he asked for help, not support but assistance and she wrote back emphatically yes. They had always been more siblings than cousins and he knew that if anybody would accept him as he was it would be his cousin Paris. She found him a job and she promised Neville could stay with her for as long as it took him to find a place. A few weeks later she wrote back with the name and address of his new boss with instructions to write him as well. And so he did and by some odd happenstance Tyler Garrett became the newly self enlightened young man's pen pal for the last six months of his sentence.
They almost seemed kindred spirits, they shared similar stories of wasted talent and a need for redemption. As the months drew on the letters grew longer and more frequent, more honest. Almost intimate, Neville thought but he brushed it off for his vulnerability and the unconditional attention he was getting from his new boss. Those letters made the last six months fly by and now he was free.
And waiting for Paris to pick him up, he would have taken the bus but she insisted so he sat on one of the benches to wait. It was a beautiful day warm and sunny, too hot for the thermal shirt, hoodie, skully and jeans he had been arrested in so he sat in one of the snug white tees Paris had sent him. As the shock of freedom wore off Neville began scanning the parking lot, when he noticed a big red pick up parked not to far from where he sat. The driver sat on the flat bed away from the prison release door. Neville might have noticed him pull into the parking lot but now he watched the older, maybe 40ish white man smoke a cigarette. He could smell the smoke and the craving made him clench his jaw. He wanted to go over but thought better of it given where they were, so he watched, until he couldn't take it anymore.
Leaving his stuff on the bench Neville circled around the man so he could approach him from the front as he fiddled with his cell. He knew what he looked like so he kept his distance and said as innocuously as possible, "Sorry to bother you bud, but could you spare a square?" The man looked up at him, his gray eyes squinted and judging by the faint lines at the corners of his eye Neville assumed this a usual expression. For some reason it made him smile and so did the man.
"Magilla," he said as he stood, his eyes drifting up and down Neville's long wide frame in open appraisal. "She wasn't lying when she said you were huge."
"Excuse me?"
And the man offered him his pack of menthols and smiled again. "Names Tyler Garrett and you are Neville Sinclair," he said as he lit Neville's cigarette. "Paris couldn't make the trip up with the baby and all so she asked..."
"What baby?" Neville nearly choked on his smoke he inhaled so sharply. "I didn't even know she was pregnant."
"She had a baby a little boy...fuck and I ruined the surprise." Tyler smacked himself in the forehead then slide his hand over his mouth. Neville laughed a little as he looked at him. He was handsome in that DILF sort of way, almost like Jason Statham if you stretched him out to 6'2" and gave him bulk to match. He had more hair too, though it was cut pretty close and mostly gray. Neville felt his balls stirring again as he noticed his pen pal's hard nipples beneath his t-shirt. "Well the cats outta the bag now so I might as well tell you that she'll be in the hospital the next few days and we both thought you might be better off coming to stay with me for a couple weeks. Or at least until she gets home," he amended as Neville shifted back not wanting to spook the newly freed man. "We just figured it might serve you not to be alone so soon."
"Sure just let me get my stuff," Neville said with a smile and wink that he hoped went unnoticed. What was he doing, he thought as he jogged over to the pillowcase of odd and ends he had while inside. He didn't even know what this guy's situation was, for all he knew he was just a nice guy who knew how much a helping hand meant to someone with hard luck. But the mention of we and the way Tyler looked at him that first time had Neville a bit stir crazy in his mind. He thought he better pace himself, especially given his position beneath the man, as he got into the truck
"It's a long drive so what's say we drop off the highway and get something to eat. If we drive all night we could make it to my place before 3 maybe 4," Tyler said as he glanced over at the hulking black Adonis in the passenger seat as Neville stared out the window. The two hadn't really spoken once they got on the road and Neville was happy for it. Not that he didn't want to talk to Tyler but he was afraid of what he might say, so he said little or nothing for the first hour and a half.
"I'm riding your driving bud," he said nervously. Neville looked at the clock and realized it'd been almost 10 hours since he'd eaten last. His stomach growled in agreement. Tyler slapped his hard abs and laughed.
"Yeah I hear ya big fella." There was electricity in that moment, in that touch, as Tyler ran his thumb between Neville's abs as he pulled his hand away. Their eyes met and Neville felt his palms start to sweat.
