Michael Lawn Care

This happened a couple of years ago. I was just a few years out of college -- 25, and had a good job with a securities firm. Although not entirely legal, I got insider information a few times and made some very good investments. I was almost independently wealthy.

So, I bought a big house, more like a small estate. I lived alone--not having come to terms with my sexuality yet. I had been with girls and women a few times, but I knew it was not right for me. My fondest dreams--and hottest jerk off sessions-- revolved around my high school and college locker rooms. I knew I was gay but did not admit it to myself entirely. So, I just took care of my own needs.

My new place had a huge lawn, over three acres. I did not have time to take care of it, so I asked my friend Charles if he knew someone who would do the lawn work. Charles is older than me--he has a son in college. He said his son's buddy needed a Summer job and would like to do it along with some other lawns of similarly wealthy neighbors. That way, this boy, Michael, could spend the summer with Charles' son. Sounded perfect to me.

So, one Saturday morning after the college term ended, there was a knock on my front door. I opened the door to find Charles, his son Jim, and Michael on my porch. They came in and Charles made the introductions. My pulse quickened as I looked at Michael. In a word, he was stunning. Now, I knew I was gay, at least for this boy.

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He was tall and lanky. About 6'2" and maybe 145 pounds. His hair was a radiant gold and long--to his shoulders. Eyes a bright green. His smile was infectuous. His teeth sparkling white. His lips a nice pink and wide enough to possibly promise an endowment to make any guy proud.

After the usual small talk, I asked Michael if he wanted the job. Oh yes, he said. When can you start? Right now, he answered. Guess you got a job, chuckled Charles. He looked at me a moment--deeply in my eyes, then said he and Jim would be back in a few hours to pick up Michael. Thanks Charles, I said. They left, Michael waited expectantly in my front hall with a wide grin.

So, Michael, you ready to get to work? Yes Sir, he said. Not sir, just call me Jason. I am not that much older than you. Yes sir, umm, Jason. My friends call me Mike. Ok, Mike, lets go outside. It was April and the grass was pretty high. He was gonna have a tough time getting it down. We went to my shed and opened the doors. I showed him the mower, trimmer, gas cans, everything he would need. Ok dude? Yes Sir, umm, Jason.

Go to it dude! If you get thirsty or need the bathroom, just come on in. Ok Jason, he smiled. He worked like a Trojan for at least 2 hours. Then I heard a knock at the back door. Jas, I need a drink and the bathroom. Come in. I will get the drink while you do the other. Down the hall, door on the left. He almost ran. I fixed him a tall drink of orange juice with ice. When he got back, I said sit down here dude. He smiled that infectuous smile and sat at the counter on a stool.

His shorts had really wide leg openings. As he sat at the counter, he spread his legs as guys do. Without letting him see me, I glanced at him. I moved my eyes to his shorts as he downed the OJ. Up inside his shorts, his Jockey basket came into view. The basket was full to overflowing and wet from sweat. The legband was seperated from his leg. One of his nuts was poking out along with a little pubic hair--the same radiant gold as his head. His sack was perfectly smooth, and his nut looked the size of a lemon.

I glanced up to his face and he was looking in my eyes. He knew exactly where they had been focused a second before. He spread his legs a little wider. This time, I saw part of the head of his teen penis. I could not look away, even though I knew he was watching me. When I looked back at his face, he was blushing a little. He swung his legs back together, then stood.

Jason, I am truly bushed today, what with final exams and all yesterday and the work here today. Can I come back and finish tomorrow? Sure Mike. I am impressed by how much you got done. I fished out my wallet and handed him a 20. Down payment, I said. He flashed me his smile like sunshine. Thanks! Uh, Jason, I am kinda a morning person. How early can I come tomorrow? Well, I am a morning person too, Mike. I am usually up before 5:00. Come any time after that. The neighbors' houses are far enough away that your work will not bother them early. Oh, and plan on breakfast here. What do you like for breakfast? I like everything, sir. Um, Jason. Ok, I will see you in the morning.

Thanks Jason. See ya! With that, he was gone, but not entirely. His manly teen scent stayed behind for a bit. I inhaled deeply. I was in love! I got busy planning a breakfast menu. My guess was he liked eggs and meat and potatoes best. He was all guy and needed major nourishment at every meal.

A little later, I went to the gourmet market a few blocks away. First, I went to the butcher, Joe. Joe, I need two slices of the best country ham you have. Yes sir, Mr. Carlton. He went to the back of his domain and was back in a few seconds with a big burlap-wrapped hunk of meat. This is the best we have--the best there is. It is Virginia Smithfield ham, cured in smoke and pepper for 12 months. Ok, give me three slices instead of two. I thought Mike might be extra hungry.Ok sir, if you want to do your other shopping, I will have them ready when you get back.

I went to the cooler and got a pack of six extra large, Grade A brown eggs. No, I might need more, so I got a 12-pack. Never know how hungey Mike might be. Then the produce section. I got a pound of perfect little new potatoes. These I would slice and make homefries with. They had some perfect tomatoes that smelled like summer. I got two large ones. In the fruit section, they had some Valencia oranges. I picked out six to make fresh juice.

When I got back to the meat counter, Joe had my package ready. Mr. Carlton, you should very gently fry this ham. Use the very lowest heat for a long time. It is delicate, and low heat brings out the maximum flavor. Oh, and those brown eggs in your cart? Break them right into the pan after you remove the ham. Let them gently fry in the ham juices. Same with the potatoes if you want homefries.

I checked out and hurried home with my breakfast booty. I so wanted Mike to like it. After some inane TV, I went to bed at 9:00. I set the alarm for 4:00 so that I would have plenty of time for the ham. I went blissfully to sleep without touching my anxious cock. I wanted to save all for tomorrow, just in case.

Part-2, Breakfast, is in the making.

Promptly at 4:00 am, my alarm went off. It has an ugly sound, and I had a major morning woody (yes, even as old as 25 you still get morning wood). I did not touch it. Even before I went to the bathroom, I went to the kitchen in my robe. I needed to get the ham going. I pulled out an iron skillet and put some butter in it. Then, I turned on the large gas burner on my stove to its lowest setting. I opened the fridge and got out the package Joe had made for me. Opened, the aroma was delicious. I carefully put the ham in the fry pan. There was not enough room for all three pieces, so I got another pan going and put the third piece in it. Even that quickly, the smell of the ham was wafting through the kitchen and making my mouth water. Like Mike did, I chuckled.

Then, I rushed back upstairs to my bedroom, dropped my robe and slipped off my briefs. In the bathroom, I went through my usual morning ritual more carefully. I don't have to shave every day, but I got my face mirror soft. In the shower, I washed every part of my body twice. Even soaped the inside of my anus, just in case.

Shit, now I had to decide what to wear. What would Mike like? I studied my closet and drawers. First, underwear? I knew from yesterday that he wears whits briefs. So, I decided on briefs. If he should by chance get to see mine, would he maybe like some color? I decided to be bold and pulled out a pair of lavender Calvins. My waist is 30" and these were 28-30". Nice and tight and showed everything I got. I put my dick up to the left. I am quite proud of my balls. They made a nice bulge in the crotch og the Calvins. Then, I got out some sweat shorts (not too short, don't wan't to scare him) and a brilliant orange tee with "Who, Me?) on it.

I ran back to the kitchen. He would be here in less than two hours. Next would be the potatoes. I got another fry pan buttered and on the stove (I have a six-burner commercial stove). Then I began to slice the potatoes by hand, very thin. I wanted them to be very brown and crisp for Michael as he no doubt thought french fries were the ultimate potato dish. Wait until he tasted these! Next, I sliced the tomatoes and left them out so they would be at maximum taste at room temperature. I liberally peppered them.

The ham was gently bubbling and simmering in it own juices. I hoped to be simmering in Mike juices sometime today! Then, there was a gentle knock at my back door. DAMN, it was just 5:30 and he was here. I was hoping to be more ready for him, but I opened the door to his astonishing smile. Hey, he said. Hey Mike, come in. Hope you are hungry. God, I am hungry for what I smell in here, he answered. Sit at the table, I am pretty busy at the moment. Let me help. It was not a question. He WAS going to help.

You know how to squeeze orange juice? I will when you show me, he said. I got the oranges out of the fridge, the juicer, and a knife. I cut the first orange and showed him how to twist it in the juicer and how to fish the seeds out. Got it, he grinned. For the next several minutes, we were both busy at our jobs.

Looks like it's going to be a nice day, he said. Great to work on the yard. Oh, I meant to ask you. I want to put in some new planting beds. You know, a lot of digging, mulching, planting? Would you like to work fulltime here for me this summer? He gave me the most angelic ever of his grins. Yeah, Jason, I would really like that. It seemed to me that there was a bit of a bulge in his tennis shorts. Could my dream be coming true?

After he squeezed the OJ. it was time for the final dish--the eggs. I removed the ham and left all the juices in the pan. Mike, how do you like you eggs? Like you do, he answered. Briefly, I wondered what eggs he was talking about, but put it out of my mind. Like mine fried in ham juice, I said as I broke the first one in the skillet. Good for me Jason. So, I dropped four eggs in the savory ham juices. They immediately began to cook. I had to be quick or they would overcook. I managed to get all four out with hard whites and soft yolks. Perfect.

Sit Mike. Breakfast is served. It took us less than 15 minutes to devour everything. Well, not quite everything--yet. But, the day was young.

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