by Jason Lloyd
“Yes, Mrs. Darling. Um, I mean… Veronica,” Damien said awkwardly.
My mother smiled at him. “Well, I just came out here to tell you that you are doing a fabulous job with our garden. I am very pleased. Rosie is going to make you lunch today for all your hard work.”
“Thank you, that’s really nice,” Damien said.
Veronica leaned in closer to show off her boobs, and she touched Damien’s sweaty bicep. “I trust you enjoy living in the pool house?”
“Y-yes ma’am. It’s very nice,” Damien answered nervously.
You can stay as long as you like. There’s always plenty of stuff to do around here for a boy with your talents. I’m sure I can find other things that crave your attention,” Veronica said as she squeezed his arm.
“I’ll stay as long as you need,” Damien said. “I can always find things to do.” Damien glanced up at the window then back at my mother.
“Before you come in for lunch, please shower. Use the bathroom in the pool house. That’s why we have it. You’re very sweaty.” She ran her fingers across his chest. “You are one filthy boy. I don’t like dirty boys in my house,” Veronica winked, as she looked him up and down.
I can’t believe my mother is hitting on him right now, I thought.
Damien looked up at my bedroom window and right at me. He had an “I don’t know what to do” face. My mother released his arm.
“What do you keep looking at?” she asked.
Just as she looked up, I ducked down to my cold floor, still naked.
“Shit!” I exclaimed. “Oh my god this floor is cold,” I mumbled as I laid on it. My dick was pressed against the frigid hardwood.
“Oh, I see, there’s something on Danny’s window. Ugh! That’s disgusting. Rosie has to do a better job with these damn windows!” Veronica barked while she shook her head.
I peered up from the floor and looked down at them. Damien looked white as a ghost and he just awkwardly stood there.
“I’ll have Rosie wash all the windows today. I’ll see you later, hon. I have a lunch meeting in town. Rosie will have lunch for you at noon. Just remember what I said, clean up before you come in.” Veronica smiled at him.
“Th-thanks, Mrs. Veronica,” Damien stuttered.
“You’re such a doll.” Veronica turned and headed back towards the walkway. “Oh, and Damien.”
“Yes, ma’am?” Damien answered.
“You should take a fifteen-minute break. I think the sun is starting to get to you,” she said as she disappeared.
“I will. Thank you!” Damien shouted.
He looked back up at me, mortified. I stood up from my floor and realized that I had to get rid of my cum shot evidence before Rosie came up here to clean the damn window. I leaned in and lapped up the cum with my tongue. I watched Damien wipe the sweat from his forehead. He shook his head at me and smiled. I turned around, bent over, and pressed my bare ass against the window. He was still watching me, as I stood upright. He shook his head again and walked away towards our tool-shed. I walked over to my nightstand, grabbed my iPhone and texted him.
Daniel: My ass is all yours tonight. I’ll stop by the pool house after Sparkle. Having a night out with the boys. Don’t listen to my mother, I like you dirty.
Damien: ha-ha. You’re so bad. I can’t wait.
I set my phone back down on my nightstand and walked over to my dresser to grab some clothes. As I slid my jeans on, my phone rang. I walked back over to my nightstand and stopped dead in my tracks. I thought I deleted all evidence of us together—all pictures and all texts. I buried the memories, but now a familiar face had popped up on my phone. The only picture I hadn’t deleted was his caller I.D. photo.
“Why are you calling me, Ethan?” I asked my phone without touching it. Like it could automatically answer me back. “Where were you the last three years?” I let him go to voicemail. I stood there stunned, afraid to touch my phone.
roses are red
august 16, 2014
1:21pm
ETHAN HAD CALLED ME SIX times and sent me four texts. All of his voicemails stated how urgent it was for him to see me, and all his texts said to “CALL ME!” I listened to all the voicemails. His voice was deep, but quivered slightly. I had only ever heard him afraid once, and I could tell that there was fear in his voice. There was an uncertainty that lingered behind his timbre.
I spent the better part of my morning replaying all his messages. I kept listening to them repeatedly—as if they were going to change magically or provide more information into what he wanted from me. I had the brief thought maybe he was calling to get back together, but he had been missing from my life for three years. I was dying to know what he wanted, but I was afraid to find out.
Ethan always had a way of thrusting himself into my life, into my body and now in my head. “Daniel, it is Ethan. I really need to see you. Please call me back when you get this. It’s very important.” His voice was stern, unapologetic and reminded me of when we first met.
~~~~~
My sophomore year in college, I was lucky if I showed up to class. If I showed up, I was always late. “I’ll be five minutes, Josh,” I said to my roommate/best friend as he nudged me. He was always up early. His dark brown eyes stared at me fully awake. He was showered, dressed, his auburn hair was gelled, and he was ready to go. I don’t know why he bothered to wake me up every single morning because every morning he headed to class alone.
We lived in a penthouse apartment twenty minutes from Princeton University. Our penthouse could have housed a family of five, but only Josh and I lived there. I had known Josh since high school. I had liked him ever since high school freshman year when he marched up into my face and told me to quit being a privileged twat. It was the first time anyone had ever done that. Usually, people were fake nice to me and did whatever I asked of them. Josh was different. I’m still a privileged twat, but a better one because of him. He puts me in my place when I need to be.
I drifted back to sleep knowing that Josh was out of my hair for now and probably sitting in class. My drowsy twilight was broken by my phone, making a noise, indicating I had a text message. I stretched out on my king-sized bed and reached for my phone on the nightstand. It, of course, was Josh.
Joshua: Hey, penis breath we have a test today in English that will count for 40% of your final grade. Get up and get your hairy ass in here! NOW!
Daniel: My ass isn’t hairy, thank you.
Joshua: DANNY! Remember what your mother said, if you fail, she is going to take away your Porsche and Black Amex card!
Daniel: OK! OK! Don’t get your nuts in a bunch. I’ll be there in time for English class.
Joshua: Get up NOW!
Daniel: Ok, Mommy Dearest. Pull the wire hanger out of your ass, will ya?
I, of course, fell back asleep for another twenty minutes.
When I finally clambered out of bed, I had to be in class in thirty-five minutes. My daily morning routine of jacking off to porn was out of the question. Usually, I would sit on my left hand until it went numb and then whack off with it. I called this the “Stranger” since it always felt like someone else was touching me. I’d watch some porn that involved frat guys’ creampieing one another, shoot my wad, then finally get up, and shower. No time for any of that today. It was a sad day when I did not have time for porn!
My morning wood and I skipped into the bathroom. I desperately needed to pee and to pee with such a hard on was risky. “You’ll shoot your eye out!” loomed in the back of my mind. I had to contort my dick downward in order to get the deed done. It wasn’t pleasant. The whole process took longer than I liked and was very uncomfortable.
When I’m finished, I stood in front of my mirror. I looked like a hot mess. My green eyes were bloodshot from the pot I smoked the night before, my face needed to be shaved, and my hair had that tousled sex bed-head look. I realized my unkempt brown hair wasn’t bad, so I sprayed that shit with hairspray and called it a day. No time to shower
, I hosed myself down with body spray and brushed my teeth.
When I tried to get dressed, I realized I had no clean underwear, so I just threw on jeans. I’ll have to get Josh to do laundry later. I put on a light gray t-shirt and then my dark charcoal Dior blazer over it. Slipped on my black Prada shoes, and I was out the door, twenty-six minutes to spare. The quickest I ever got ready, but my Porsche and Black Amex were on the line.
Thankfully, there was no traffic on my way to school. I assumed everyone was already where they needed to be for the day, except for me. Parking at the school was ridiculous. I only had six minutes to get to class, and there was no close parking, so I pulled into a handicap space right in front. I knew it was a “douchebag” thing to do, but I could afford the ticket, and I would buy the university some computers or some shit when I graduated.
I grabbed my Louis Vuitton black messenger bag from the passenger seat, hopped out, shut the door, and locked it with my clicker. I did not even take five steps away from my Porsche before an angry guy on crutches wearing a cast on his leg was standing right in front of me scowling in disapproval.
“You can’t park here!” he exclaimed. My irate onlooker had a boy-next-door cherubic face with a light maintained brown beard. He would have looked completely baby-faced if it weren't for the facial hair. His hair was buzzed short on the sides and tousled longer on top. He had on a light blue t-shirt that brought out his pale blue eyes. The dark gray sweatpants he adorned were pushed up on his right side. His right leg was broken below the knee, and the dark blue cast ran all the way down to his foot. I could tell he was in excellent shape. The fitted t-shirt hugged him in all the right places. He had a tattoo of a dragon that ran the whole length of his right arm and disappeared beneath the t-shirt. I stood there for over a minute and just gawked at him. It was painfully awkward. I was taken back by how sexy he was.
“I’m sorry, I’m running late. I have a test. I’ll move it after class,” I said. I flashed him the famous Darling smile. The smile that got me out of trouble and laid at least once a week, but sexy Mr. Gimpy wasn’t buying it. He wasn’t falling for my charms.
“This is a handicap space, asshole. You can’t park here. There are students in wheelchairs that need to use this space,” Gimpy said.
“Students in wheelchairs, huh? They already come equipped with wheels, they should try walking around in these damn Prada shoes all day,” I said sarcastically, as I pointed to my shoes.
I thought Gimpy’s head was about to explode. A large vein appeared on his forehead, and his face became all red. His blue eyes glared at me. If looks could kill, I thought.
“I’m super sorry Gimpy. I promise I will move it after my test. I have to go.” I had exactly two minutes before class. I turned around and started to walk briskly away.
“Come back here, asshole!” Gimpy yelled.
“Chase after me!” I yelled back as I picked up my pace.
“Fuck you!”
“I like your beard!” I shouted. I turned around and smiled at him as I opened the door to the building. He probably would have run after me and beat the shit out of me. It’s a good thing he was wearing that cast.
I was five minutes late, but my DILF of an English teacher let me in anyway. See, the smile usually works. As I sat down, Josh rolled his eyes, shook his head, and mumbled, “Asshole!” He hates it when I get my way.
After class, I kept my promise. I walked back out to the parking lot, but as I reached the handicap space, all I saw was Gimpy smirking at me. He was leaning up against the handicap sign. My car was gone.
“Where’s my car?” I asked. I wasn’t pissed. I was amused and slightly turned on.
“I had your Porsche towed,” he said. Gimpy hobbled over to me with his crutches and tried to stand up straight. He was slightly taller than me and two times my size in weight. He smelt incredible. He was so close to me, I could have reached out and touched him, but touching him would have been like putting your hands into a flame, I would get burned. He reached into his sweatpants’ pocket and produced a business card:
Richard Camel’s Tow Service
You bang em up… we’ll pick em up
24 hours a day, 7 days a week!
609-555-1212
I laughed when I read the card. “Thanks, Gimpy, I’ll get them to wash it before I pick it up,” I said.
“The name is Ethan,” he said angrily.
“Good to know.” I nodded at him and walked away. I figured I would wait until I was out of sight before I called the family chauffeur. I skipped my other classes that day and went shopping… Porsche shopping. It was time for a new car.
Three months went by, and I saw no sign of Ethan. I learned my lesson and had not parked in a handicap spot since then, but I wondered if I did it again, would I run into him? Part of me wanted to try it.
During winter break, Josh and I went home to New Hope, Pennsylvania. He stayed in the mansion with me. My mother spent her winter holiday in St. Tropez. I wasn’t expecting to see her again until I came home for spring break. She doesn’t care for Christmas at all. It was my father’s favorite holiday, and ever since he passed, she runs away from it. If it weren’t for Rosie, there would be no tree, no decorations. During Veronica’s winter holiday, mother paid Rosie double to watch the mansion and to make sure things are run smoothly. Rosie always used that extra money to give me a Christmas. She would even buy me presents. In my nineteen years of life, she had been my mother figure.
Josh’s parents Oliver and Rebecca took a vacation to Paris for the holidays. Josh told me that his parents have been having problems and they thought a vacation away together would help. Josh did not seem to mind that his parents wouldn’t be around. Ever since he switched his major from Pre-Med to Creative Writing, they have been down his throat with disapproval. Josh’s father was a doctor, and he had his practice in New Hope. He wanted his son to take it over someday, but Josh’s dream is to be a published author. He wanted to write the all-American novel, only gay.
Josh and I decided to head into town Christmas Eve and go to Sparkle Nightclub, one of the local gay clubs. As an early Christmas present, I had fake IDs made for us, and I figured tonight would be the perfect night to try them out.
Josh drank six dirty martinis, and I had four. He staggered out of the nightclub, and I followed him. He was clearly drunk, I felt buzzed.
“Joshie?”
“Yeah,” he slurred.
“I think I’m too buzzed to drive at the moment. Let’s walk to Eagle Diner, have some breakfast, and laugh at the ugly people.”
“I want hashybrowns! And pannercakes!” Josh said excitedly.
“Okay, Joshie, I’ll get you food, you fat whore. I could use an omelet myself.”
Josh linked his arm into mine, and we started to walk slowly. It snowed a little while we were in the club, and the entire town was blanketed in a dusting of white. All the shops were closed, and the town was silent. There were white string lights on every tree and every lamppost had a lit wreath. The light reflected off the snow and created our own winter wonderland.
I realized something, stopped and turned so that Josh and I were face to face. I’m slightly taller than he was, so I looked down at his five-foot, six-inch frame and said, “Hey Joshie?”
“Yeah?” he asked. His cheeks were pink, and his eyes had that drunken glazed over stare.
“It’s fucking Christmas!” I exclaimed. In my slightly buzzed state, I had forgotten it was after two in the morning.
“Merry Christmas!” he said with a huge smile.
Suddenly a feeling came over me. I don’t know if it was the alcohol or the magic of the night, but I had to tell him I cared for him. “I love you, Josh. You are my best friend. You are my brother.” I leaned in and gave him an innocent kiss on the lips. “Merry Christmas!”
“Awe, I love you too, you whore.” Josh looked shocked. I’m not one to share my feelings. We started to walk again. Josh held on to my arm. I felt like I was in a snow
globe and then someone shook it. We were almost at the diner when a big man in a black hoodie ran over to us and stood directly in front of us.
“Gimme your wallets, you fucking faggots!” he ordered. He pulled a large knife out of his dirty tan pants and waved it in front of us.
Josh reached into his back pocket and gave the man his wallet. Josh’s hand trembled as the man snatched it up and shoved it into his hoodie pocket.
“Okay, faggot, your turn!” He waved the knife at me.
“I don’t want any trouble, but there’s something in my wallet; I need to take it out first before I give it to you.” I reached into my coat pocket, grabbed my wallet, and opened it. The man cut my hand with his knife and pushed me. I slipped in the snow and fell to the ground. My head bounced off the sidewalk. My vision was blurry, and sounds were muffled. I heard Josh scream, “Danny!” I heard another voice yell, “Get the fuck away from them.” and I heard tussling before I finally passed out.
The sound of machines humming and beeping was the first thing I heard when I started to wake up. My head throbbed as if someone used it as a piñata. I felt a bed underneath me, and I slowly opened my eyes. My blurred vision could only make out shapes. I saw a figure in a chair next to me.
“Danny?” he said.
A moment went by, and my vision finally started to clear. I was in a hospital bed. There were flowers on a table next to my bed and a person sitting in a chair hunched forward, staring at me wearing a black knit cap.
I opened my mouth to speak. My lips were cracked, and my throat felt dry. In a raspy quiet voice, I asked, “Where am I?”