"Earth to Nick. You were telling me you were staying at the university over the Christmas break and were looking for work over the holidays."
"Uh, sorry, Cliff," I said. "I was distracted."
We were walking across the front of the Edmon Low Library on the Oklahoma State University's quad in Stillwater, Oklahoma, where Cliff Matthews and I were both sophomores—Cliff in the sports management program and I in sports media. Cliff was local, so he'd be here over the Christmas break anyway. My folks lived in Miami, and I saw no reason to go to Florida for Christmas. Besides not wanting to shell out for the trip, I needed money more than I needed sharing Christmas with my parents who were separating anyway. Christmas with them would be like being in a war zone and constantly being asked to pick sides. What I needed was a seasonal job. Cliff had mentioned he had one. I wondered what sorts of temporary jobs they'd have here in Stillwater.
"Distracted by what? That hunk over there?" He gestured toward a strutting god of a guy who had paused on the walkway leading to the Spears Business School and was rummaging through his backpack. I recognized the guy. He was a senior. He was a tackle on the OSU football team but, most notably, he was a state championship wrestler, OSU having a premier program in this, not to mention hosting the National Wrestling Hall of Fame on campus. Most significant was that he had the magnificent, heavy muscled body to go with the sport. I'd seen a couple of his wrestling matches. Body beautiful, meltingly showcased by sexy, form-fitting wrestling singlets. He really filled out the pouch of one of those. I definitely would not have minding going through the wrestling moves with him.
A guy's body was what did it for me—if something was going to arouse me. I didn't have all that much experience. I wasn't an easy lay or anything—not normally—at least I didn't see myself as that. There'd been a few beach parties in Florida where I'd gone all wild, but everyone was doing it. I didn't think that meant I was easy—not usually.
"Yes, if you must know," I said. I didn't have to be secretive around Cliff. We both were gay, but we both were submissives, so it wasn't a jealousy thing of looking at other guys. Cliff was more active in the lifestyle than I was, though. Stillwater was his home turf. I was still trying to adjust to going to school in Oklahoma. The signaling seemed to be all different here from Florida, which was openly beach candy territory. I wasn't used to having to work at hooking up, not that I did a lot of that even in Florida, so I hadn't done anything here, at least yet. "That's Dennis Duncan, isn't it?"
"Yes. Isn't he gorgeous?"
"Yes, he sure is."
"You two would make a knockout pair," Cliff said in a voice that had a bit of edge to it when the topic of looks came up. I was said to have movie-star, golden-blond looks. It gave me stage presence. I did theater and the sports media program I'd gone into was just one avenue for me to put those looks to use. I could do younger roles, so I got parts that were teenagers but that the producers didn't want to fool with all that paper work involved in employing a minor.
Cliff had a great body—from the neck down. He was always pressing me to go cruising with him because he said I'd attract the men and he'd ride their cocks. He was always joking about that, but under the surface, I didn't think he really was joking. I hadn't cruised with him yet—this edgy aspect to that was probably what was holding me back.
"You want to meet him?" Cliff asked.
"In the worst way," I said. "I've been there a couple of times when he was being interviewed by the university radio. My sports media classes did some of those interviews. But I've never met him. It would be nice. It would be even better if he was a player. He's got the body of a god; it's the muscles that do it for me."
"It's the muscle swinging between the guy's legs that does it for me," Cliff said.
"That too," I agreed.
Cliff laughed. "He
is
a player. He's a power top. He's hung and he's a god in the sack."
"Go on. Don't tell me he's laid you."
"Why, yes he has. And he's randy as hell. He'd chase you around this quad to get his dick in you if he had any idea you took cock."
"You're just making that up."
"No, he's told me that—about you." That set me back on my heels. "Do you want to meet him?" Cliff asked.
I paused. Of course I wanted to meet him, but did I want to let my tongue hang out over that with Cliff? I didn't have to answer that. I already was standing here with my tongue hanging out over the wrestler.
"There's a plan there," Cliff said. "You just said you wanted to find a temporary job over the Christmas break and wanted to know where I was working mine. We can combine plans. I work at an electronics store in town and I know they're going to want to add on help for the Christmas rush. Where I know Dennis from is the store. He works there too. The store's having a pre-Christmas party for its workers this weekend. Come to the party with me. I'll introduce you to Jay and Jim, who own and run the store, and maybe they'll give you a job. And if Dennis goes to the party, I can introduce you to him then too."
It did sound like the perfect plan.
"Jim and Jay are players too," Cliff added.
"They've both laid you?"
"It's how I got the job."
Now,
Cliff
definitely was easy, I thought.
* * * *
"Do you fancy that watch?"
I was standing by a display case in JJ's Electronics Store near the corner of East 7th Street and South Main and admiring the Apple wrist watches. Of course I fancied it. One of the store owners, Jim Lewis, had tracked me down and put a hand on my back when he came up behind me. I had come to the office Christmas party with my school friend, Cliff Matthews, who worked here. Cliff was off by the Christmas tree in the front window of the store, the blinds on the windows now being down to give privacy to the party. Cliff was being consulted closely to the point of fondling by the store's other owner, Jay Brown. Together, the men made up the "JJ" of the store title. Both men, probably in their late thirties, were good looking and belonged to a gym.
"Yes, of course I'd like to have a watch like that," I answered. "That's one reason I was wondering if your store was laying on extra help for the Christmas season. I could use some extra money to buy nice things. I go to the university with Cliff and he thought maybe you'd be hiring temporary help. I'm from Florida and staying here at school over the winter break."
"You might not have to get a job to get that Series 6 Apple watch," Lewis said. His hand moved down to palm my butt and I didn't move away. He was sniffing my hair and I was expecting the come-on line of "You smell nice," but he didn't go there. I knew where he was headed, though. I can't say I wasn't flattered. "You're so good looking, you deserve nice things," he murmured into my sideburn. So, he did go there on a standard pickup line.
I was prepared for it. Cliff had said both of the store owners were gay tops and were forward about it.
I'd seen right off the bat this this was "that" sort of Christmas party. Everyone here was male, the blinds on the window were down, the booze was flowing, and the men were friendly, some of them already getting frisky although it was early in the evening. Besides, Cliff had already told me this would be a gay-male hookup party.
The wrestling champ dreamboat, Dennis Duncan, was here, wearing a red mesh athletic T above clingy black-satin pants and Santa boots and a Santa hat, but Cliff hadn't introduced me to him yet. The hunk was inundated with young guys. He had his arms around the shoulders of two of them as he held court over by the punchbowl. I'm sure either one of them would have bent over the table the punchbowl was on for him if he did no more than signal that's what he wanted.
But, then, would I be any different?
"So, do you think you'll be hiring for the Christmas rush?" I asked Mr. Lewis.
"How old are you, Nick?" Lewis asked. I didn't think he was asking just to determine whether I was old enough to hold down a job. I knew I looked borderline. I was a little short for my age and had a boyish look about me, my physique more willowy than muscular. That helped me both on stage and for the modeling jobs I'd gotten in high school back in Miami. I could look younger than I was and take on mid-teen roles.
"I'm nineteen—a sophomore now at OSU. I'm studying sports media and do some theater work. I think I'd be good as a salesman. You've got a lot of nifty electronics here. They nearly sell themselves." I know I was a little gushy, but I'd had a couple of drinks already—strongly laced with vodka—and I was nervous. Lewis hadn't taken his hand from my butt and he was pulled in close to me. Cliff had warned me that I might—no, probably would—have to take the man's cock—and that of the other owner too—to get a job here. And still I'd come to the party and wanted a job.
Taking it wouldn't be all that bad from either one of them. They both were good-looking and built and certainly no older than forty. I had, of course, engaged in some casual sex before—I'd been a beach boy in Miami, and there'd be a payoff to letting these guys lay me. I didn't want them to think I was easy, though.
"Yes, of course, that's how I got my job here," Cliff had said matter-of-factly, like it was just the natural thing to do. And maybe it was close enough.
Lewis reached behind the case and took the Apple Series 6 watch out and put it on my wrist. While still holding my hand in his, his thumb folded under into the palm of my hand, he leaned in close and whispered in my ear, "Try it on for size, Nick. You let me lay you and the watch is yours. I have to consult with Jay on giving you a Christmas season job here, but you get my vote—if you let me fuck you, if you'll take my cock. Think about it." He kissed me on the ear, and then, with a laugh, he slid away from me.
I answered that I hoped he didn't think I was that easy, but Lewis had already wafted away from me. Blushing, I turned away to see that Cliff had waded in to where Dennis Duncan was holding court and was waving me over for introductions at last.
Cliff was very tactful—and helpful. He introduced me to Dennis and pulled the guys who were hanging on to him away to look at some new electronics that had come into the store.
"So, you're Nick Miller," Dennis said to me when it was just the two of us standing by the punchbowl.
"You say that like you know who I am," I said. "I've seen you. I've been to a couple of your wrestling matches. Cliff tells me you work here. In sales?"
"Yeah, I work here. Not in front, though. I'm on the Geek Squad, working on repairing the stuff brought in—in the back. But I also take the photos."
