"Ma, it's been three weeks since I touched down out here. I'm beginning to feel like I'm gonna be homeless," I told my mother after a month in my new territory.
Five up and down years on shore duty in Norfolk, Virginia flew by, and during that time I committed to orders in Lemoore, California, praying I would get a chance at some sunshine, but more important a fresh start.
"You made your bed, now you lie in," my mother told me as she originally lobbied for me to choose Virginia.
The Smell of Kings County, California hit me the moment my truck landed on local pavement, as it was the early spring scent of cattle manure rampant since milk and beef cattle farms were at every turn in the rural area. It was a three and a half day trip from the east coast as I was excited to get back to a state where I was assigned once before. I was thinking the same game I was able to play in Orange County would fly in the more northern part of the state, but I was met with the reality of Lemoore, California at the end of the trek from the funk, heat, and the unplausibility that Lemoore reflected the rest of the state with all it offered.
"I'm about to run out of money in a minute,"Â I told my mom at Day 35 of being a local.
After two weeks of leave, I checked into my new command, happy as a lark, but still uncertain on things, i.e. my living situation.
I was up against location and gas prices as the base itself was a good five miles from civilization, as huge airfield and adjoined tract of military related municipal support still tucked from a ways from the town of Lemoore. The town itself didn't offer a lot of lodging options due to my low price range, and anything within my price range seemed even further away in Fresno or Visalia, perhaps a 45 minute transit from base when gas prices were already at an all-time high. Â I stayed persistent however and would end up finding a place on Craigslist; A one bedroom, studio-like spot in a town called Hanford, hosted by "J & L," otherwise known as Jon and Larry.
"Navy man. Glad you found our ad," Jon told me as we shook hands.
This "studio" was actually a suite within a large, two-story sky blue house, a well preserved home in a quiet, well-kept neighborhood tucked away on a neat, tree lined street.
"The studio was an airBnB, but its something we also use for long termed tenants," Jon told me as he gave me a short tour.
There real, glossed hardwood floors, preserved, classic furniture from the small couch in the lounge living room area, to the king sized bed to include a thick mattress and boxspring on a specially carved bed frame. I would share a kitchen with two other guys that lived in two other connected studios, and the backyard was massive, with a shaded gazebo area, a large, built in grill, and a large pool just behind their home as the houses shared grounds surrounded by wrought iron fence lined with thick ivy grown for privacy.
"I like it," I told Jon as a burly Larry walked up to us.
"Well great," Jon said before he introduced me to Larry. "Deak, this is Larry, my husband and co-owner."
"Hey," Larry said as he couldn't stop smiling, but couldn't make eye contact.
"Let's go inside and talk numbers," Jon said as he led us in single file back through the kitchen, and through the unit.
We laid down ground rules and payment procedures, then talked about proximity of things, including my commute to work.
"I'm sold. You've got a pool," I mustered to say as they both laughed.
They'd give the time frame of availability, and mentioned they had two other prospects on the horizon for the suite.
"I've got first and second month right now in my pocket," I told the two as I didn't want to spend another night in a hotel.
They laughed, and claimed they like what they heard and saw in me as a potential tenant.
"After tomorrow, we'll be able to make a decision and whether someone else gets it or not, we'll let you know," Jon said.
I'd shake their hands, and they'd walk me to the front of the yard and opened the fence door to let me out, and I'd drive off in my truck, heading back to the hotel. I made it to the hotel to change out of uniform, and grab a steak dinner from a nearby spot when my phone rang.
"Deak? Hey man, me and Larry made up our minds. We canceled the other guy. We like you, we trust you, and are wondering when you can move in at the soonest," Jon asked.
I packed my items from the hotel into the truck after the phone call, then made my way to the property to receive my key, a blessing, and to pay what they requested.
"No overnight guests," Jon told me as that dashed my hopes of hosting. "Otherwise, "congratulations. You'll love your stay here."
I moved all my items into the room, then left to make groceries to fill the shared refrigerator with Keith and Todd, the two other inhabitants of the dwelling. I'd meet the two of them while filling the refrigerator, then settled things in the studio to get cozy. I then realized within my rent, Jon and Larry had linen service for my sheets and towels, a bedroom cleaning service, and just a host of amenities I didn't remember reading from the lease to the place making things sweeter. I laid flat on the bed and was at peace, subsequently days later getting into a groove at work, and a month would pass when I was feeling like myself again. There however was only one thing was missing: sex.
"I'd love to come and service, then ride that dick," were the words perfect guy would say each time.
I'd get all hard and pressed to host, then the guy would mention the times he could get away from the wife and they never aligned with my schedule. I entertained the thought of sneaking guys over late at night, but didn't want to ruin the relationship I had with Jon and Larry, for they were not only great landlords, but even better guys.   I just had to "get lucky" when I could, and most likely it would happen on their turf. It was looking bleak, until one day, a tide would turn.
"Hey Deak, we're having a small barbecue if you wanna join us," read a message from Jon one afternoon as this one of many of their invites to small family barbecues they'd host.
I declined like other times for the sake of keeping our relationship business like, not trying to blur the lines of any sort with our arrangement.
"One of these days, you won't turn me down," Jon would say. "Just know, if you ever need anything, and I mean anything, don't hesitate."
I thanked him, and later that evening I cleaned my studio, and had the windows open as I wanted to air out the place, and get some summer breeze. I had all except one light off in the studio, and I was naked, with all my blinds pulled down completely as Jon and Larry hosted friends and family in the yard. I didn't think nothing of it as I finished, and began watching a movie on my phone while prancing throughout the space, and even at one point getting up to grab snacks in a dark kitchen as the two others in the house were out of town that weekend. I cut on the lamp beside my bed while watching the movie and munching on potato chips, and the breeze slightly blew the blinds beside my bed to shimmy away from the window. I stood up with my cock flopping as I walked over to close the window as a precaution as I heard "hi Deak" come from Jon. I looked up to see Jon staring into the window, and I became embarrassed. I pushed the blinds back against the window before I returned salutation, and quickly closed the window as I wondered who else saw "the goods." At this very moment, I began to overthink when I laid back down in disgust, contemplating finding another place to stay, and breaking lease as I wanted to be naked in the confines of my own home and not worry about being seen. At this moment I was also, in a small way, turned on, for Jon didn't necessarily text me any adverse message, and so I continued on like nothing happened.
"You missed out, kid," Jon texted me later.
Right then, I pulled out the lotion and jerked off to the "thought" of someone peeking through my window while I was naked and wanting a piece of me, then blasting off when I thought of Jon or Larry as the spectators. This would be the the closest to sex at the house I thought, then it would finally happen a couple weeks later when I connected with some anonymous profile on Grindr.
"You know, you are one sexy man," said the guy one evening.
The mystique with this profile was that he was only 500 feet from my bedroom. I knew most of the guys on my street in passing each day, and none of them, outside of Jon and Larry, even seemed gay, or were even my type.
"Can I see that cock," this profile asked as he was persistent.
"If only I could show it in person," I told him. "What's your name?"
"Jim," he told me before he showered me with more compliments. "That's my name, and I really would savor that big, black cock right now, kid."
He wasn't letting off the gas despite not being able to host or with no media.
