Varsity Low

Thinkin' back thinkin' of you

Summertime, think it was June

Yeah, I think it was June

Layin' back head on the grass

Chewing gum havin' some laughs

Yeah, havin' some laughs

You made me feel like the one

Made me feel like the one

The one

Drinkin' back drinkin' for two

Drinkin' with you

When drinkin' was new

Sleepin' in the back of my car

We never went far

We didn't need to go far

You made me feel like the one

Made me feel like the one

The one

Stereophonics ---- Dakota

*******

August arrived and I headed west, towards Anders and his Indiana farm. Turnpikes, toll roads, Interstates, black coffee, bad burgers, Ohio rest stops, summer bugs smashed on the windshield; speeding my VW GTI through a hot August night. We'd been apart since the spring semester ended after finals, and I was deranged with pure need for him; his green eyes, killer smile, easy laugh, warm soft fur, girthy uncut dick. I drove hard all night, passing troubled towns with huge car dealerships, dying malls, weather beaten tract houses.

<<< >>>

A couple of months prior, I celebrated the end of final exams with Griffin and Jose. We had dinner at The Tudors, which was hands down the best restaurant in town. They were already at table when I arrived.

A smiling Grif got up to hug me. "Trav! Future farm boy lookin' good!" I was enveloped by his male awesomeness, he smelled good, all cleaned up for our dinner, wearing a deep pink polo with a 'Country Club of Mobile' logo. "Anders already headed back to the farm, I hear?"

"Damn Grif. You clean up real nice for a Bama boy." I clowned. "Yeah, he wanted to get right home to the farm and help out. I fuckin' miss him already."

Jose stood and held out his hand, giving a firm manly handshake. "Hey. I'm Jose Hidalgo. We've had some classes together." Whoa. Dude was epic hot. Tall, varsity LAX athletic, mop of black curls, devil gleam in shining dark eyes, wide smile of of white teeth in dark scruff, tiny gold hoops in each ear, lending him a vibe of rapacious conquistador prince. The kind of velvety brown skin that begged to be touched. I'd noticed him around campus, as his male beauty and charisma were hard to miss, usually with a few of his preppie blond LAX bros in his wake.

"Travis Ravenel. Call me 'Trav'. Great to meet you." I gave him my full on blue eyed male gaze and he returned with his alarmingly hot dark eyed version. Whoa. Cool, cool, be so very cool.

Three perfectly dry Grey Goose martinis arrived, frosty cold stems, helix spirals of lemon twist. I raised my glass; "To surviving finals without loosing our minds. Happy summer!" They both laughed, we clinked and drank. Jose was clearly no stranger to top shelf cocktails.

"So, Trav, what is your summer plan?" Grif asked.

"Mmm. June and July home in Richmond, working full time in stepmomster Vera's commercial real estate shop. Copying, collating, filing, driving things to FedEx, fetching coffee, tending spreadsheets. They want me to get some 'work experience' whatever that is. Come August, I am off like a shot to Anders' farm in Indiana, to turn myself into his farm boy. What are you up to, Grif?"

"Home to Mobile for a short visit. I'm keeping the flat in Canal Place, taking some easy summer classes, and working full time for Caleb on the campus grounds crew. Blow some weed, drink some beer, play some ball, work on my tan, swim at Northland pool." Grif sighed.

"Working for Caleb; that is hot." I tried not to leer.

"It would be, but Caleb made it very clear it is 'hands off' while I am on the payroll. I gotta respect his boundaries...he is not a dude to be fucked with." Grif shared.

"Jose. What is your plan?" I asked.

"Home to the family place in Darien, Connecticut. The 'rents are both with Goldman, they are never home, and probably won't notice I'm even there until August." he laughed. "I'll road trip down here and hang out with Grif, maybe coax him away to our place on the Outer Banks for some beach time and golf."

Grif gave a crooked grin, looking down, suddenly bashful. "Yeah, come back and crash with me, any 'ol time." Whoa. Griffin was a smitten kitten, something I never thought I would see.

Salads arrived, the martinis yielded to a nice Malbec, just the right bit of dirty. Jose excused himself to take a call from his LAX coach and headed out front.

Grif looked at me, eyebrows up, an expression of puzzled wonderment, like a cartoon character who'd just been hit over the head with a board. "There is some blazing chemistry with you two." I said quietly.

"Yep. I am roadkill. He is so outta my league." he sighed.

"Do not think that way. I saw how he looks at you. Ramp up the southern swagger and Grif magic. It sure worked on me. Everything good that came my way at this fuckin' college started that October afternoon we met in Sennwick Library, remember? Anders, Caleb, weed, fun, sex, friendship, more fun, more sex, lots more weed...it was all 'cuz of you. Could Jose be 'the one'?" I asked.

"Maybe. He could be 'one of the ones'. I'm considering my options." Wicked Grif grin.

I laughed. "There we go. That's the Griffin I know. Just the right kind of slutty."

Jose returned to our table and we gorged ourselves on thick slabs of medium rare prime rib au juice, served with Horseradish. Old school yum. Another bottle arrived, we drank and ate. Lime sorbet for dessert, coffee. Jose fought off my valiant effort to get the check, whipped out a strapping wad of cash, tipped well, and was thanked by all. Jasper's warning about my spending came to mind, and I had to smile. Not getting this tab; no worries dude.

Outside, we stood next to Jose's new black Jeep Wrangler, topless, open to the late spring night. "Great meeting you, Jose! Get Griffin outta here and down to OBX for some beach time and golf. He needs a real vacay." I said.

Jose laughed, "Will do, Trav. Have fun on the farm...let Anders turn you into a farm boy. I want to see more of you Fall semester, a whole lot more." He gave me a naughty wink. Whoa.

I hugged Grif. "I will not see you before I head home to Richmond. Swagger and magic. You can make anything happen," I whispered in his ear.

"Thanks. Happy summer, Trav! Give my love to Anders." Grif enveloped me, big hands on my ass.

They drove off together. I had almost expected to be invited back to Grif's flat, to get stupid-high and have a hectic sweaty three way, but no. Griffin's agenda had shifted, and I liked him even more for it.

<<< >>>

I threaded my way south from the Indiana Turnpike at South Bend, making my way on two lane roads, a tidy network of sleepy towns and green farms, little traffic away from the highway. Getting closer, I pulled over in a tiny village called Burr Oak, where the road got wide in front of Osborne Seed. I texted Anders:

ME: in Burr Oak, getting close

ANDERS: good work, right on 14B, look for the huge oak tree on the left marks the drive, I'll be on the porch, can't wait...

ME: got it, on my way

I found the big oak tree and turned in. Two story house, mid 19th Century, set back on an easy rise of lawn, white clapboards, tall sash windows, wide front porch, steep pitched roof of silver standing seam metal. Friendly sunny vibe of home. Riot of naturalized flowerbeds around the porch; Zinnias, Dahlias, Daylilies, tall Phlox. Big clay pots of thick red geraniums. Fresh American flag spiked out from a Doric porch column. I liked the place instantly.

Anders waved and grinned from the porch, vaulting down the front steps as I brought the bug spattered GTI to a stop. Sleeveless tee, gym shorts, brown as a berry, wide shoulders. thick muscles and natural fur. His hair was shorter back and sides, making his handsome mug leaner and more manly. I dove into his splendid arms, every fiber of my being relaxing as he bear hugged me. I huffed his scent, showered, male, uniquely Anders, Fuck all the way around, I had missed him.

"Trav! Welcome! You look yummy, swimmer boy!" He kissed me, boyish, eager, horny.

"Damn Anders, you are farm boy hot! I missed you...I drove all night, like a maniac on the lam." I laughed. He put his arm around my waist, leading me to the porch steps, where an elderly English Pointer greeted me with slow tail wags and one low friendly 'woof!'

"Who is this handsome canine beast?" I crouched down, the dog wiggling into my arms, giving face licks, gentle, sweet natured.

"This is Duke. He runs the place, dontcha' ya old boy? Yep, lord of the manor." Duke wagged with joy, gave another low 'woof!'

Anders took my hand, leading me around the main house, Duke at our heels. "C'mon. I'll show you the cabin house, where you'll be staying." Another huge old oak tree, and a tiny cottage, freshly painted board and batten, circa 1930's. Two rooms, more fresh white paint on bead board, heart pine floors, vintage bath with large ball & claw foot tub. Anders let me take it in, grinning, suddenly bashful.

"Awesome! I love it!" Old iron bed with white chenille bedspread, scruffy vintage easy chairs, Victorian chest. Clean cut and pointedly spare, like his dorm room back in Lambeth Hall.

Anders was bursting with pride. "I cleared out all the old junk and excess furniture. Fresh paint, inside and out. New mattress. New window AC. I used Bona on these old wood floors. New faucet and a good hand shower on the tub. Windows washed, fixed the screens. Fresh new toilet seat. Clean white sheets and towels. We don't live like your family does, but I wanted to make this nice for you."

"It is splendid, all the more so 'cuz you did the work yourself. You are the best boyfriend, ever. I love you, man." I kissed him.

"My HS buds, Clayton and Winkie helped with the painting and fixing the roof. I am so glad you like it, Trav. Gimme your keys, I'll move the GTI back here, and bring in your gear. Draw a bath if you want, get clean and relaxed from your drive, and then I'll show you around the place." I gave him the keys, started the bath, stripped down.

He returned with all my bags in one trip. Muscled Thor could carry shit. I was naked and he dropped the bags and enveloped me from behind, I could feel his thick girthy erection through his shorts, and I sprang eager wood, 7.5" cut, he reached around, took my blond pink dick in his big farm rough hand. "Sorry my hands are so rough" he whispered.

"Don't be. Put those rough paws all over me, werewolf boy!" I laughed. "Wait." I paused the bath, fished fresh lube from my gym bag. I dropped to my knees, tugging his shorts down, freeing his 7" of girthy drooling thickness, heavy Nordic foreskin already back from his blunt shiny glans. I went down, slow, fast, going deep and holding, starving for him after our months apart.

"Unnngh, fuck yeah, Trav, suck it! Whoa, don't make me cum!" I pulled back and looked up, thick pecs, rug of dirty blond fur from collar bone to cock shaft. Fearsome Viking prince getting a blow job.

"Fuck me. Rough. Use my hole. Make it hurt. Own my ass!" my voice low, rough, dirty.

"OK. I can do all that." he laughed with horny joy. He moved me to the bed. pushed me back, my feet on the floor, ass at the edge. He dropped to his knees and went down on me, hungry, kinda' frantic, then slowing, easy southern style the way I had taught him, with finger tip ball touches. He looked up, big green eyes, gave me a wink.

"Ahhhh! Don't make me cum! Fuck me!" I was in some kind of zone, primal need. He stood between my my legs, found the lube, and slow greased his male girth in my sight line, foreskin sliding over the glans, letting me watch him prep for taking my dude hole.

He lubed my cock with his other hand, easy, lite touch, slow teasing. I pulled my legs back, held my ankles, he lubed my boy hole, two fingers in. "Fuck me!" I ordered, begged, pleaded, demanded. He teased my hole with his blunt greased dick head, my ankles on his wide varsity wrestler shoulders, then went balls deep in one expert thrust, grunting. "Unnngh!" The pain was quick, perfect, radiating to every nerve ending.

He held, balls deep, and stroked my dick, getting me in the zone, then he was pounding my ass, while giving me a handie, a storm of muscle and fur covering me. "I gotta cum! Now!" I shot, hard, everywhere, like my soul streaming outta my dick. "Annnngh!" He slowed, balls deep, pleasuring me with his male power, while I came back to Earth.

His turn, I reached back and touched his big fuzzy scrot, cum ready balls scrunched up tight, he pounded my ass hard, full rut, making yelping grunts while unloading his spunk deep inside me. He collapsed on top of me, my jizz getting into his sweaty fur, huffing his scent, weight of muscle upon me.

We fetched around, he eased out, gentle with me now. "Daaaaamn, Trav! I guess you did miss me." pushing a couple of sweaty tendrils of his strawberry blond mane back from his forehead.

"God damn, I needed that!" we laughed at our sweaty train wreck of hectic male lust. "Bath?' I asked. Remembering how to walk again after being so epically taken, I went and turned the taps back on in the big claw foot tub. Anders got in first, settled back, I got in between his thick muscled legs, relaxing back into his beefiness and wet fur, enveloped in his arms, relaxing in the hot bath water. "This tub is awesome. Fits us both perfect."

"Yeah, I thought you might like it." his finger tips touching the smooth planes of my chest.

"Why is it called the 'cabin house'?" I asked.

"It was built in the 1930's on the site of the old cabin the first settlers raised when they cleared this land to farm. When they built the main house in the 1840's, the cabin became just another outbuilding. There is a small family cemetery in the back forty, Gramps and I keep it cleared with the bush hog and string trimmer, so the brush and hedgerow does not take over. I'll show it to you."

"Cool, yeah, I wanna see the whole place." I said.

"OK. You will like it here, I just know it, Trav." We washed each other, rinsing with the hand shower, slow and easy. How I had missed just being with him. We got out of the tub and dried each other. I admired his summer tan lines, the way they enhanced his meaty male ass, dusted with dirty blond fur.

He dressed. "Get settled in Trav. I'll bring you a sandwich, then you can nap, rest up from the drive. Gran and Gramps are up in South Bend for the day, they'll back for supper. He slipped out, I unpacked, leaving the AC off, preferring the low warm breezes thru the screens, songbirds nearby.

Anders returned with a hearty ham and swiss on thick home baked bread, a glass of milk, some awesome chocolate chip cookies. "Gran made cookies for you." he grinned as I wolfed the lunch. He held the milk glass to my lips, I gulped it down, some dribbling onto my chin, he licked it off with his wide pink tongue.

"Thanks...so good!" feeling suddenly sleepy, the all-night drive finally catching up with me, totally relaxed from our hectic fuck and slow bath.

"Take a good nap, Travis. I've got chores. I'll fetch you before supper." he kissed my cheek, slipped out the screen door with the empty plate. I opened the bed, and soon plunged into a deep nap, naked and uncovered, bath fresh, country breezes on my skin.

I awoke to find Anders sitting on the edge of the bed, holding my ankle in his hand. "Wake up, naked boy." he said.

"Whoa, yeah, did I sleep all afternoon? Is it supper time?" I asked, still in nap fog.

"Not quite all afternoon. Get some clothes on your hot blond nakedness. I wanna show you the house before Gran and Gramps get back."

"Sure, yeah, cool." I got up, splashed cold water on my face and buzzcut at the basin to wake up, pulled on cargo shorts and polo, presented myself to Anders who was kicked back in the easy chair. "Is this OK for supper?"

"Hell yeah. C'mon, nap boy!" leading me out of the cabin house to the work-a-day jumble of back porch; bins, tools, firewood, a well used potting bench. In through the back door, mudroom, small office, stairs down to a cellar of rough stone blocks.

Big kitchen, last updated in the late 1940's including the range. Newer stainless fridge, looking way out of place. Wide sink with dual drainboards, under a trio of big casement windows, overlooking a large, well tended vegetable garden enclosed with some serious deer fencing, "Nice garden!" I said.

"Gran's pride and joy. She will put you to work out there, so I hope you are ready for some stoop labor, rich boy." Anders teased.

"I'd love to work in that garden." I responded. The center of the kitchen was a vintage Formica dinette set in chrome, pink and gray, clearly the nexus of life on the farm. Smells of recent baking, roasting, cooking made me love the room.

"Not quite like Vera and Jasper's Richmond kitchen, huh?" he asked.

"Not at all. This kitchen has soul." I responded.

"Good answer, Mr Ravenel."

The living room was a happy chaos of furnishings accumulated across several generations, grouped more or less towards a big field stone fireplace. "I put up the flat panel with a satellite dish so they can watch all the MLB games. Say nothing bad about the Chicago Cubs or Gramps will put you out...old dude loves his Cubs."

The dining room was a time capsule of Victorian treasures. Round table with six balloon back chairs. Complicated sideboard and matching vitrine displaying Haviland china that was already old when WWI started. Chandelier with etched globes and long rectangular prisms. "This is the place for holiday dinners. I help Gran polish it up. Pretty cool, no?"

"Fuck me, this is right out of a museum. You do know how rare and special this is, right?" I asked.

"Yeah, I get it." Anders said pridefully, looking around at his heritage.

The old staircase was easy with low risers and deep treads, just the right amount of old house creaky-ness. He led me to his room, neatly made twin bed, tidy student desk with laptop and books from campus. Shelf bristling with HS sports trophies and dangling medals. Bookcase containing an early set of Hardy Boys detective novels in their distinctive blue binding.

"Those were Sam's. The Hardy Boys, Gran's cooking, the bench press and free weights in the cellar pretty much kept me from going full-on catatonic when I first got here after Northbrook." he sighed. I put my arm over his shoulders and pulled him into a full hug, not saying anything, as anything said aloud would be trite and cloying and clueless on my part.

It was still early, Anders and I settled in on the front porch with cold green bottles of Rolling Rock to await Sam and Lydia, Duke sprawled out with us on the cool porch floor. Comfortable silence, clinking our beer bottles together every now and then, for no good reason, other than just being together.

An aged GMC pickup turned into the drive, Anders and I both waving from the porch, and came to a stop. Sam and Lydia got out, Duke and Anders went down to greet them. Strapping Anders carrying two big paper bags of groceries like they were nothing in his arms.

He led them up to the porch, Duke wagging and saying his low 'woofs!' "Gramps, Gran, this is Travis, but we mostly call him 'Trav'. Sam had the same wide shoulders and thick manly build as his grandson, handsome in his seventies, also with Anders' easy grin.

I stepped up with my firm dry handshake and eye contact; the 'Washington handshake' Jasper made me practice with him when I was a boy. "Very pleased to meet you sir. Travis Anson Ravenel."

"Good to meet you, Trav, welcome to our little spread. Anders has been like a crazed pup getting ready for your visit." he grinned.

Lydia was taller than Sam, stone gray hair clamped up in a bun. She was trim and angular, excellent posture lending her an air of authority, dignity, and grace.

"Pleased to meet you Lydia, thank you for having me here for August, it is great to be here." She kissed my cheek.