Earning Extra Money
EARNING EXTRA MONEY (M/M)
It was the summer of my 19th birthday and most of my friends were away on vacation with their families. I was bored out of my mind when I came up with the idea of earning extra money by doing grass cutting in the neighborhood. Like a dumb shit, I got my Dad's lawn mower out of the garage in the middle of the afternoon. Not in the morning when it's cool. No, I had to pick the middle of the day.
The first house I went to on our street was a bust. The old lady there said her grass was just fine. The next two houses were well trimmed. The next house belonged to Ken. He was an older, widower guy with a head of gray hair. He wasn't like really old, just older than my father but, younger than my grandfather. He always waved to us kids and never bitched if we decided to cut through his yard to get to the back alley. Just a nice, friendly guy.
I stepped up on his porch and knocked on the screen door. I could see into his hallway and part of his livingroom from where I was standing. "Hi. What's up? he asked as he approached the door.
"I was wondering if you would like to have the grass cut?" I asked.
He stepped out onto the porch and looked at his yard. "Yeah. I guess it could use a trimming. I was going to get to it tomorrow, but if you want to do it, fine. How much?"
"Well, I was thinking maybe five dollars," I said.
"Sure, go ahead. Just knock when you're finished."
I went right to work and within fifteen minutes the sun was doing its damage. I was pissed at myself for not bringing water along with me. After I finished, I went up on Ken's porch and knocked on the screen door again. He opened the door and motioned for me to come inside.
"You look beat. Want some cold lemonade? I just made a pitcher."
"Yeah, that sounds great."
"Have a seat in the livingroom. I'll get you a glass."
I went into the livingroom and plopped down on the couch. It was nice and cool in his livingroom and I was glad for the time to rest before I moved on to the next yard. And there, on the coffee table in front of me, was this porno magazine. It was open to photos of a woman stroking this hard cock. These were just like the magazines I kept under my bed to beat off to. I started turning the pages and the photos showed the woman wrapping her lips around this cock. My cock began to get hard in my jeans as I looked at the photos. I never noticed Ken coming into the livingroom.
"Here you go," he said as he placed the glass of lemonade on the table. I dropped the magazine on the table and picked up the glass.
"Sorry. I wasn't expecting company," he said as he reached down and closed the magazine.
I could feel myself becoming embarrassed. I shrugged and studied my lemonade glass.
"I don't suppose these magazines are anything new to you," he said as he sat down beside me. "I'll bet you have some hidden in your bedroom," he smiled
Wow! How did he know that?
He picked up the magazine and opened it to the photos I had been looking at. "I'll say one thing, she sure knows how to handle that cock. Have any of your girlfriends ever done that to you?" he asked, smiling.
"Yeah, right. I wish," I offered.
"Your kidding. You mean no one has ever touched you like that?"
I shook my head.
"That's a real shame," Ken said. "I'll bet you think about it a lot, though."
I nodded. I was too embarrassed to talk about it and my cock was still hard from seeing those photos. I was hoping he wouldn't notice the bulge in my jeans. But he looked down into my lap and asked, "Let me ask you something. If you had the opportunity to have your cock stroked like that, would you go for it?"
What a stupid question, I thought. I imagined how it would feel to have the hand of the girl in the photo around my cock. "Of course, I would go for it. Who wouldn't?"
"Well, I have an idea," Ken offered. "It's sort of an experiment if you're up for it."
"What kind of experiment?" I asked. I honestly didn't know what he had in mind, but I was curious as hell. My mind spun with all sorts of erotic thoughts related to those photos.
"Just an experiment. The only thing is, I don't want you telling your friends or anyone about it. This has to be just between you and me, understand?" he said in a serious tone.
"I guess so. I mean, I won't say anything to anybody," I promised.
"Okay. Here's what I want you to do," Ken handed me the magazine. "Just sit back and look at the photos in this magazine. It's going to be part of the experiment. And don't worry about getting a hardon, I get them, too. If you feel uncomfortable at any time, just say so and we can stop the experiment, okay?"
"Okay." I sat back on the couch and started turning the pages. My cock was still hard and wasn't about to go down as I looked from photo to photo. And then his hand rested high on my thigh. I involuntarily jumped. "Relax," he whispered.
Easier said than done, I thought. Suddenly, I knew what this experiment was. I was stunned. I didn't understand. How could Ken be queer? He had been married. His fingers moved slowly to the bulge in my jeans and he began softly tracing the outline of my hardness. I didn't know what to think or how to feel. What he was doing with his fingers felt so good. Man, was I becoming queer for enjoying the feeling? I was so confused. My cock was slightly bent in my jeans and it wasn't comfortable.
"How does this feel?" Ken asked.
"Okay." My voice was raspy and I had to clear my throat. I was no longer looking at the photos, but watching his hand as his fingers moved over my hardness. My cock jerked in my jeans at his touch.
"You're really hard. You would probably feel much more comfortable if your dropped your pants and let it out," he said as he began opening the top of my jeans. He began tugging at the waistline of both my jeans and shorts. I lifted my hips to help. I felt a rush of air hit my thighs as he pulled my clothes to my ankles. Free of confinment, my cock stood straight up like a flag pole and I couldn't stop it from jerking. He slid from the couch and knelt in front of me. All of a sudden I thought he was going to put my cock in his mouth. It was the way he was looking at it.
He reached out and slowly closed his fingers around me. His hand felt so hot and it felt so good to be touched by a hand that wasn't mine. The way he slid his hand up and down my shaft felt so incredibly exciting and I moaned when his other hand began to caress my balls.
"You okay?" he asked.
"How does this feel to you?"
"It feels great," I gasped. "But I'm very close to cumming."
He reached behind him and grabbed several tissues from the box on the coffee table. "Go ahead, let it go," he said as he continued to pump my shaft with fingers of velvet. It was already on its way. I could feel it gathering below and starting to rise. Any second now. His hand sliding up and down my shaft was driving me crazy. It felt so damn good. I moaned and lifted my hips as I started cumming. He tried to catch my load in the tissue, but some shot beyond his hand and hit him on his shoulder. I was moaning now, digging my fingers into the cushions of the couch. My chest was heaving. I was breathing as though I had been running in a race.
"Oh god," escaped from my lips. Another spurt shot from the head of my throbbing cock. I loved this feeling so much. It was so intense. Slowly, his hand began to stroke softer with less urgency. His thumb, lubed with my cum, was gently sliding across the sensitive area beneath the head of my cock. He gently pumped out of the remaining cum into the tissue. I felt as though I had been stepped on by a giant foot. I had never cum so much or so hard.
"Be right back," he said and he went into the kitchen. I heard water running and he came back and covered my still throbbing cock with a warm, wet towel. He wiped up and down my shaft and cleaned all around the head. He stood up in front of me with his hands on his hips. "Better pull your pants up," he suggested.
"Well, what did you think of the experiment?"
"I never felt had anything like that before."
"I'll bet you could probably go again."
"I don't know."
"I had a feeling you needed something like that after looking at that magazine. Glad I could help. Lately, I've wanted to try what we did, but it's so hard to trust anyone. I know you must feel a little uncomfortable about this, but don't let it bother you. What's to worry if it feels good, right?"
I could only nod.
As I stood and pulled my clothes up, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He pulled a five out and handed it to me.
"Here's for the great job you did on my yard." He pulled out another five. "And this is for the experiment."
"Just between you and me," I promised again.
"Thanks, Ken," I said as I headed toward the door.
"That's okay. Just let me know when you want to cut the back yard. There are other experiments, you know," he said.
"Other experiments?" I queried.
"sure," he smiled.
As I pulled the lawn mower back up to my house, I felt so confused. I didn't want to be queer and have people make fun of me and talk behind my back. But I still longed to be with a girl. How could I be queer? Although, I had just cum, the exciting feeling was still inside me. In a way, I wished I hadn't left when I did.
Ten bucks for one front yard. Not too bad. I was done cutting grass for the day. Maybe I should walk up to the local swimming pool and relax and check out the girls. But between thinking about tits and bums, I caught myself thinking about cutting Ken's back yard.