"Collecting Debts"
By: Pete
It was 1980. I was eighteen and I had my own business mowing lawns. I had been mowing lawns for three years and had a trailer loaded with my mowing equipment, which I pulled behind my big green GMC van. I'm naturally thin, and mowing lawns kept me really lean, and I also had an awesome tan from working all day with my shirt off.
It was August in Michigan and hotter than hell, the humidity making you sweat even after stepping out of a cold shower. It was a Friday, around 6 pm, and I was hitting up my customers who owed me money so I'd have some cash to party with that night.
My best friend Jeff was with me, and we were smoking a joint as I cruised from house to house collecting ten bucks for each lawn I had mowed that week. We weren't wearing shirts, only our short ripped jean shorts and tennis shoes, which is what everyone wore in 1980. My old van didn't have any air conditioning and, despite the way we were dressed, we were still sweating even though the windows were down.
I'd always had the hots for Jeff but never wanted to make a move on him because I didn't want to fuck up our friendship. He didn't seem too interested in girls, and he never dated during high school. I thought this was a little strange because he was a pretty hot guy and, even though he talked about girls he never really did anything about it, so that gave me hope that maybe he was "like me."
We were pretty buzzed from the pot when I pulled up in front of the house of one of my customers. This guy was pretty nelly and I was sure he was a fag. He lived alone and had two poodles, shaved with those pompom balls around their chest and feet… how fucking gay is that? He never made a move on me, but sometimes I would catch him watching me from the kitchen window as I mowed his lawn, sweat running down my body, soaking my tight shorts, grass clippings sticking to my chest.
After ringing the bell, he answered the door with a glass of white wine in his hand.
"Hey Mr. Sharley, you owe me for two weeks. That'll be twenty dollars."
"Hey Pete, no problem. Come on in while I find my wallet."
"I have a friend with me waiting in the van."
"Why don't you invite him in, too? It's awfully hot out there. Perhaps a nice chilled glass of wine would help to cool you both off a bit."
"Ummm, sure, why not." Jeff and I never turned down a drink, especially alcoholic!
I turned and headed back to the van as my cock started to swell up, wondering if this guy was going to try anything with us. He wasn't sexy or anything, but just the thought of something happening with Jeff and this fag got my eighteen-year-old dick moving around in my tight shorts.
I walked up to the van window and told Jeff the guy was offering us a cold glass of wine inside. "The only thing is," I said, "I think this guy is a fag, so I don't know if he has any ideas on us or not."
"Fuckin' A man. No problem. A glass of wine sounds great!" Jeff replied.
I was glad Jeff didn't make a disgusted face or anything when I mentioned the guy was a homo, and I was pleased he just hopped out of the van without making any fuss about my fag comment.
We got inside and Mr. Sharley, who was probably only thirty, motioned us into the kitchen. We sat down on the vinyl-coated kitchen chairs as he went into the fridge and pulled out a big jug of cold Gallo white wine. The vinyl felt cool against my hairy thighs on the chair seat.
Jeff sat with his legs spread open, one arm draped over the back of the chair and his other hand resting on his naked thigh, near his crotch, as Mr. Sharley poured us some wine in regular drinking glasses. Being eighteen and just a couple of guys, we downed the drink in one swallow and put the glasses back on the table. The drink felt cool as it went down my throat and into my belly.
"You guys should sip that. It's wine you know, not Kool-Aid."
"Oh, we're used to drinking wine, and we're thirsty because it's so fuckin' hot!" Jeff said.
Mr. Sharley was almost standing between Jeff's splayed legs as he poured us another drink, adding a little extra to the glass this time, and I'm sure I caught him glance at Jeff's crotch. This made my already chubby cock start to swell even more.
After smoking the pot in the van, and then downing the first shot of wine on an empty stomach, I felt really nicely buzzed. The proximity of Jeff in the small kitchen, the two of us only in tight ripped jean shorts, made my blood start pumping faster. Mr. Sharley didn't have air conditioning and it was hotter than hell in the kitchen, and I swear I could feel the heat coming off both of their bodies. I could feel the sweat trickling from my hairy armpits down my sides, wetting my shorts.
Mr. Sharley sat down across from us at the table and tipped his glass to us, "Cheers! Happy weekend!"
We took a good gulp of the wine but didn't down it entirely this time.
"You guys doing anything fun tonight?"
"Yeah, Mr. Sharley…"
"Call me Mike."
"Yeah, ok, Mike, just hanging out, you know, drink some beer, smoke some pot, maybe go to a drive-in movie later."
"You guys got pot?" Mike asked.
"Yeah, sure, good stuff. Maui Wowie!"
"Wow, I haven't smoked pot since college, it's been a while," Mike said, kind of nostalgically.
"I have a joint," Jeff said. "You want to smoke some now?" As he said that I saw Jeff kind of scratch his balls and give himself a little squeeze, his chair pulled far enough away from the table, giving Mike a good view of his crotch.
I saw Mike check out Jeff's bulge again and his eyes got a little wider, then he said, "That would be great!"
Jeff stood up and reached into his shorts pocket for the joint, his shorts too tight to reach into the pocket while sitting. The horny fag couldn't take his eyes off Jeff's bulge, and I could swear Jeff's bulge was starting to get bigger.
Jeff pulled out his lighter, and, still standing, lit the joint, took a big heavy drag, and then passed it to Mike. Mike took a big drag off the joint, coughed just a little, and then handed it to me. I took a big drag and then passed it back to Jeff.
Jeff sat back down again and he opened his legs even further as he took a toke of the joint. Then, as he passed it off to Mike again, he put both hands on his thighs, making a nice V look that directed your eyes directly to his crotch.
We finished our drinks on the second gulp and Jeff motioned to Mike to get us more.
When we finished off the joint, Mike said, "Wow! That stuff is good. I'm already fucked up!"
"Yeah, this is great stuff," Jeff said. "And it makes you hornier than fuck!"
I almost choked on my wine. I couldn't believe Jeff had said that, especially after I told him this guy was probably a fag.
"Yeah, pot always did make me horny," Mike said, checking out Jeff's package again.
I looked over at Jeff, and I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw him rub his bulge… not just like scratching his balls, but a real crotch grope and feel. Seeing this, as well as the look of cock lust in Mike's eyes, had my dick rock hard inside my tight shorts.
"You know, Mike," Jeff said, "My buddy Pete and I could use a few extra bucks for tonight, you know, so we can get a pizza or something at the drive-in."
I wasn't sure where Jeff was headed with this, but I thought my boner, which was hurting from the tightness of my jean shorts, was about to bust out as Jeff continued to nonchalantly rub his crotch.
Mike was staring directly at Jeff's bulge, and almost as if in a trance just uttered, "Uh-huh…"
"I can see you've been staring at my dick bulge since I got here," Jeff said, giving it another rub. "And if you want, maybe we can both whip out our dicks for you to see a little closer, say for… twenty bucks each?"