Someone to Bank on

by Carson Wescot

  The two half-dressed former co-workers sat next to each other on the couch and quietly ate their dinners with the TV on. In his rapidly mounting anxiety, Bobby was glad Grant had turned the TV on so that he didn’t have to carry on a continuous conversation. He could only wonder if Grant was feeling as much apprehension about being bathed as Bobby was as the one doing the bathing.

  After they finished, Bobby carried the trays and forks back to the kitchen. When he returned Grant reached for his crutches.

  “Ready, kid?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” Bathing Grant Collins – who’d have ever thought I’d be doing that?

  “I think there’s still one clean towel left in the linen closet. Why don’t you go start filling up the tub and look for it, while I hobble my way in there?” Grant said, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. His desire for a clean body was a stronger force than his reluctance to remove what little he was wearing in front of the young man. Still, this was unchartered territory for the two of them, and he was only too aware of it.

  CHAPTER 3

  Bobby was nearly shaking with anticipation as he made his way to the small bathroom with the towel he’d found for later. He put the stopper in place in the old claw-footed tub and turned on the hot water. When he turned around, the unwashed but magnificent and soon-to-be-nude body of Grant Collins, propped up on his crutches, filled the doorway.

  Grant was quite the specimen of stunning manhood, in Bobby’s limited familiarity with such things – at least in a hands-on way. He had come out in college after his roommate, Philip Spencer – a devilishly handsome blue-blooded lad from Massachusetts – had, with Bobby’s enthusiastic concurrence, seduced him at the start of their senior year. But that was about the extent of his intimate knowledge of the male body other than his own. Oh, sure, he’d often bathed and showered with his brothers – Max, three years older, and Kenny, two years younger – but this was going to be his first time bathing a full-grown man.

  And full-grown he certainly is, Bobby mused as Grant stood before him now, more than half undressed. Grant was about six feet tall – an inch or two taller than he was. The man had short brown hair, beautiful brown eyes, dimples, a well-defined chest, and beautiful long legs. Was he intact or not? Bobby was only seconds from finding out.

  “How are we going to do this, Grant?”

  “Well, take my crutches and put them in the corner while I hold onto the sink for support. Then help me off with my shorts and boxers and hang onto me till I can get my butt in the water. My right foot will have to hang over the edge of the tub so my cast will stay dry. Then you’ll have to help me wash myself. I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to this bath.”

  Probably not even half as much as I am, Bobby thought to himself. Suddenly he remembered a dream he’d had a few nights ago, when he was doing the very thing he was about to do – separate the oh-so-hot Grant Collins from his clothes. He’d woken up just as he was gliding the older man’s zipper down, cursing the fact that it had been a dream and not reality. Now he was face to face with the reality, even though the whole scenario seemed incredible.

  While Grant kept one hand on the sink and his other hand on Bobby’s bare shoulder, Bobby fulfilled his aborted dream of the other night. Sitting down on the closed toilet seat, he unsnapped and unzipped Grant’s cutoffs, letting them fall to the floor. Then he slid Grant’s last remaining garment – a pair of slightly damp boxers – down off his hips and feet.

  Just like that, he was face-to-crotch with a partly rigid uncut cock that took his breath away with its 8-inch length and beauty, and a scrotum that hung loosely under it with two heavy-looking orbs. It was truly a sight he never expected to see for real, despite the dream he’d had and the many times Grant had walked past his cubicle door in his tight dress pants. In the short month they had worked together, Bobby had tried many times to imagine what the man would look like without them. Now he knew. And he certainly liked what he saw.

  “Why don’t you get out of your trousers so you don’t get them wet? You can’t go home in wet pants, and I think we’re going to make a bit of a mess here until we figure out what we’re doing. By the way, sorry about my dick. It still does this every time I get undressed, even though I’m a ripe old 32.”

  You’re ripe all right was Bobby’s unspoken thought. But he wouldn’t have missed this opportunity for the world. Of course, removing his own pants was the logical thing to do, but Bobby was very much aware of the growing rod in his own underwear.

  “Well, I guess you’re right, but I’ve got a bit of a boner going myself. When you’re 22, it hardly ever goes down, you know,” he said with another smile, trying to diffuse the tension in the air.

  “Not a problem for me, guy. I was 22 once – believe it or not. If you’re hard, too, then I won’t feel so self-conscious. You can hang them there on that hook on the wall.”

  With trembling hands, Bobby lowered his own zipper and removed his trousers while Grant watched. His partial erection tented his white briefs, but he chose to keep them on. He kind of liked the odd sense of power it gave him to have Grant naked while he retained at least one article of clothing.

  Holding onto Bobby, Grant immersed himself in warm bathwater for the first time in several days, including his hair. It felt heavenly! With Grant’s eyes closed in blissful soaking and one leg over the side of the tub, Bobby sat back on the closed toilet seat and happily took in the view he now had of his handsome former colleague’s body. He laughed to himself as he thought of what such a picture would look like gracing his computer screensaver.

  Still half hard, Grant’s cock lay to one side over his hip, giving Bobby an unobstructed view of his walnut-sized balls and scrotum, which floated conspicuously in the bathwater. Bobby was sublimely captivated by the sight.

  Unaware that Grant had opened his eyes and caught him staring at his sexual equipment, Bobby heard, “Bet you never thought you’d see me like this, did you, buddy?”

  Bobby turned several shades of red and quickly glanced down at his feet, feeling suddenly ashamed of taking advantage of the situation to enjoy a prolonged, unhampered look at Grant’s awesome body.

  “I’m kidding – take a good look if you want to. I would, too, if the tables were turned. In fact, feel free to make yourself comfortable if you like and slip those briefs off. You might get them wet, too.”

  After hesitating a moment to gauge whether Grant was serious or not, Bobby decided he was. When they were working together at the bank, Bobby had never had any reason to suspect that his co-worker might ride the same bus, so to speak, but now it seemed rather probable. What straight man would have suggested that Bobby remove his underwear in that situation – or any situation, for that matter? But something told Bobby that it just wasn’t a good idea – for this time at least.

  “That’s okay. I’ll keep them on. If they get wet, it’s no big deal. Maybe we’d better get you washed so I can get out of your hair and get on home.”

  “Okay,” Grant said, now rather embarrassed that he had even suggested it – disappointed, too, if he had to admit it.

  Sitting up in the water as best he could with his leg hanging over the side of the tub, Grant shampooed his hair and washed his upper body, with Bobby’s help to wash his back. Only soapy bare hands were used since no washcloth was in sight. Then Bobby helped the man stand up in the water. With his right foot and cast on the tub edge, he had to hold on to Bobby to maintain his balance while the young man took his time washing his lower half carefully and as thoroughly as he could without getting the cast wet.

  It felt awesome to Bobby to actually be touching the man’s private parts with his bare hands, but, hey, someone had to do it and he was only too happy to “lend a hand.” He didn’t linger long inside the man’s butt cheeks, but long enough to do a respectable job of cleaning him there.

  Grant’s erection had subsided during his upper body washing, but it reawakened when he felt Bobby’s soapy hands
touching him where few men had ever gone before. His glans peeked out of its loose skin covering invitingly.

  “I don’t know if you have a foreskin like I do, so you may not know about pulling it back to clean everything well,” Grant said, continuing to hold onto Bobby’s shoulders for support. Bobby shook his head silently. “Just pull it back with one hand and wash me with your other one.”

  Grant was right. Bobby had never washed an uncut cock before. He did as instructed, revealing the last remaining part of Grant’s body that he hadn’t already tended to. He took the opportunity to examine it well.

  He had to use every ounce of restraint he could muster up to keep himself from going erect as he returned Grant’s private parts to overdue cleanliness with his gentle but thorough handling. Grant closed his eyes to fully enjoy Bobby’s manual manipulations.

  “Careful, Bobby – I’m super sensitive down there.”

  Bobby knew little about uncut cocks, but he had a hard time imagining that anything could feel more sensitive than his own sexual equipment. He keenly missed Philip’s frequent oral assaults on it now that they had graduated and gone their separate ways. Jacking off in the confines of his current bedroom just didn’t measure up in any way to Philip’s finely tuned oral skills, although it was better than nothing. Rodney now lived in the next bedroom over, but there was no way he was going to enlist his help – not that the guy likely shopped on his side of the street anyway. Even if he did, Bobby wasn’t the least bit interested.

  Reluctantly releasing Grant’s intoxicating genitals, Bobby rinsed the man’s body with the spray nozzle and declared him clean. After he helped Grant step out of the tub, Bobby toweled the man’s body dry, taking his time in those special “hard to reach” places. Inevitably, some of the water had wound up on Bobby’s body, so he used the same towel to dry himself.

  Bobby asked Grant if he had any clean boxers. All the man had that was clean was a short terrycloth shower wrap that snapped together on the side, which he allowed his young visitor to put on him before he reached for his crutches.

  Bobby gathered up his clothing and got dressed, under Grant’s continuing gaze.

  “Do you have any clean sheets for your bed?”

  “Everything in the house needs washing, Bobby. I think I’ll just sit on the couch now and watch some TV and sleep out there tonight. No use putting a clean body on those old sheets.”

  “What time do you want me to stop by in the morning? Is 9 too early? I could pick up something for us to eat for breakfast and bring in some coffee, too.”

  “Sounds great. Nine is just fine. In case I oversleep, here’s a key to the building and also one to my apartment door. Just let yourself in. Also, here’s my postal box key. Take it to the post office at 18th and Church Street and look for box 1294. Oh, and to further complicate your morning, here’s my ATM card. The PIN is the same as my P.O. box number. I’d sure appreciate getting my mail and a couple hundred in cash – okay? You can keep half the cash for yourself – you’ll earn it tomorrow, the way this place looks.”

  “Sure thing, Grant. Here’s another cold brew for you. See you in the morning.”

  “Oh, and Bobby – thanks. You really came to my rescue tonight. I feel a thousand times better after that bath and shampoo – and having my a/c back on.”

  “You smell a thousand times better, too,” Bobby replied, with his youthful endearing grin. “See ya!”

  Just like that, he was gone, and the place once again felt empty. If the lad had to go so soon, Grant was at least happy that he’d done it with a smile and a joke – even if it had been at his expense. He was seeing a side of Bobby that he hadn’t taken time to get to know at the bank. The kid was a real charmer – not to mention easy on the eyes.

  Popping a sleeping pill, Grant lay down on the couch but didn’t turn the TV back on. Instead he reveled in his newly clean hair and body, the cold beers he had consumed, a hot meal (such as it was), the return of air conditioning to his previously stifling apartment, and the thrill of just having been touched in the most intimate bodily places by the handsome lad he used to work with until just a week ago. Life was suddenly good again – at least for the moment.

  Thinking of Bobby standing in his underwear next to his tub, Grant unsnapped his shower wrap and leisurely brought himself to full arousal and then a shattering climax. He cleaned himself up with the wrap and then fell contentedly asleep with nothing on but the dim lamp behind him.

  CHAPTER 4

  It was something of a miracle that Bobby Rushton had found his way home safely that night. All the way there he’d been in a daze thinking about all that had transpired in the previous few hours. At work earlier that day – like all days that week – he had missed the presence of his sexy laid-off co-worker in the office across from his cubicle. Then came the call from the man himself, who wanted to know if Bobby would bring him some groceries and beer, followed by finding the man living in clutter with no air conditioning, his freshly broken ankle in a cast and hobbling around on crutches.

  But then came the greatest surprise of the entire day – maybe of Bobby’s brief lifetime so far – being invited to give the man he had looked up to so much an actual bath and being nearly naked himself with him for the better part of an hour.

  On top of all that, he was now in possession of Grant’s building key, apartment key, P.O. box key, ATM card and PIN, and the promise of $100 to clean his apartment and do his laundry the next day. Bobby would have done it all for free just to spend some more one-on-one time with the man, but to get paid for it too was the icing on a very big cake.

  Exhausted by the events of the past few hours, and knowing he needed to get up early to run Grant’s requested errands, Bobby told his roommate Rodney that he was going to bed early and to please try to keep his itinerant friends out of the apartment until the next day so he could get some sleep. For once, the guy cooperated.

  He took a quick shower and retreated to his solitary bed. Despite his fatigue, he felt very aroused and thought of Grant’s body while he relieved himself of some pent-up sexual energy. Despite his fatigue, his release was quick and sweet – maybe the best one he’d had since Philip left town. He drifted off still nude on the top of his bed – unaware that Grant was doing the same thing, and wearing not a stitch more himself, on his living room couch.

  Despite the early hour, it was already warm and humid when Bobby woke up the next morning. He smiled as he remembered last night – and he thought of what lay ahead for the day. He just hoped that Grant’s air conditioning would still be working. With all that Bobby had agreed to do, he would certainly be working up a sweat. Even so, it was going to be better than spending the day in a bank cubicle wearing a tie.

  He slipped on a tank top, some shorts, and a pair of sandals and left the apartment before Rodney even knew he was up. He shuddered as he thought of his current living arrangements. He had to do something about the situation, but he didn’t know of any good options at the moment. Money was tight, and he couldn’t afford to live alone – not that he really wanted to anyway. But Rodney definitely wasn’t long-term roommate material.

  Fortunately, the post office lobby had just opened when he arrived there to pick up Grant’s accumulated mail. He knew he had no business even glancing at it, but he couldn’t help himself. A little peek wouldn’t hurt anything, would it? It wasn’t like he was going to open any of it.

  Among the grocery coupons, solicitations, and credit card offers, he spotted a couple of things of interest. One was a piece of mail from HRC, the Human Rights Campaign, with its familiar blue-and-gold equal sign logo. Then there was a catalog from a company that sells provocative clothing aimed at a youngish hip gay male crowd – especially all kinds of sexy, revealing underwear.

  This all but confirmed in his mind that Grant was as gay as Bobby was. He hadn’t really thought so before last night, but Grant did seem to pay a lot of attention to Bobby’s nearly nude body last night. Maybe they had more in common than he
had previously thought – and that possibility pleased him very much.

  Balancing a sack full of mail, $200 in cash from the ATM, two breakfast sandwiches and a bakery item from Panera, and two hot coffees, Bobby made his way into Grant’s building and up to his apartment door a full 30 minutes before he was expected. A lady in 2-E opened her door a crack and peered at him as he set his cargo down on the floor outside the door. He quietly inserted the key in the door in case Grant was still asleep. He was. Except for his ankle cast, he was also still as completely undressed as he’d been when he drifted off to sleep after Bobby had left last night.

  Bobby put the food and coffee in the kitchen and set the mail on the end table by the couch, along with the cash. He felt kind of funny watching Grant sleeping that way on the couch, but he didn’t want to wake him just yet. He wanted another chance to take in the sight of this nude Adonis before plunging into the day’s work – of which there would be a lot. Like Grant said, he was going to earn every penny of the promised $100 today. At least the air conditioning was still on, and for that he was extremely grateful.

  Noticing the shower wrap on the floor that Grant had been wearing when he last saw him, Bobby picked it up to lay over his sleeping friend’s midsection. He immediately noticed the fresh stains on it that hadn’t been there last night. With a smile, he realized that Grant must have had a little solo fun of his own last night. Bobby wondered what Grant had been thinking about while pleasuring himself, and of course he hoped it was the one who’d bathed him.

  Bobby brought the shower wrap to his nose and inhaled the scent, suddenly feeling that familiar stirring in his groin. Was it too much to hope that the next ejaculation that Grant would produce would be one that Bobby would be able to witness personally? Or better yet, have a hand in?