Seduction in Alabama
Seduction in Alabama
Copyright © 2010
By Lee Mariner
This is a true story depicting homosexual acts between males. The names of the characters have been changed, and the locations have been changed to prevent any embarrassing comparisons.
If you are not of legal age in your locality to be reading this type material or should you find the contents offensive, please leave.
This story is intended for the private enjoyment of its readers. While readers may copy the story for their own private purposes, they are requested to not reproduce, copy, archive or post it on any other web side. The Nifty Archives and its mirrors may post this story in accordance with the Nifty requirements for posting of erotic materials.
Editing has been done by my friend, David, and for this, I am truly grateful.
Prologue
This story begins in July 1946, one month after my fourteenth birthday. My parents had divorced when I was nine years old, and as part of the conditions of their divorce, I was placed in my father's custody. During the years between their divorce and the ending of the war it was agreed that I would live with my mother during the months of June, July and August, and the school months from September through May with my father. It was during these years that, I slowly and eventually learned that, I preferred men to women. Unfortunately, my experiences up until the time of this story had been the company of jerking off with school chums and one or two of the kids that lived in my neighborhood and some guys bragging about fantasy or actual sexual conquest, we would never know. We all had seen the pictures of men and women having sex in some of the porn magazines that found there way into school locker rooms, and all of us talked about sex, wondering what it would be like to fuck a woman. Most of my chums eventually did but, not me, I was more interested in what sex with another man would be like. I wouldn't learn until I was fifteen years old.
Chapter #1
I enjoyed the arrangement since it got me away, if only for a few short months, from my stepmother whom my dad had married a few months after the divorce. At Christmas time, I looked forward to the presents that mother sent, and on my birthday, she would send me several gifts. My birthday was in June; I would be sent to stay with her for the summer months after school was let out for the summer. She had sent several presents for my fifteenth birthday but, the real stunner hit me when she met me at the Greyhound bus station with a man unknown to me. During the winter while I was staying with Dad, she had married Arthur Quillen, an ex-Army major whom she had met during the war while she was working as a cocktail waitress.
Arthur was not a handsome man as someone thinks of being handsome. His face was plain and seldom showed any emotions. He had the stoical look of a man with both feet solidly on the ground and, as I later learned, he brooked no nonsense. In short, he only spoke when he needed to, and he was a stern disciplinarian. I was not very fond of him but, for my mothers sake, I maintained the pretense that I did.
That summer we lived in Mother's apartment. I wasn't very happy with the arrangements since Arthur took up most of Mother's time, leaving very little for me. When I was sent home, life was pretty much as usual. Christmas arrived and went, there would be presents for my fifteenth birthday and then a couple of weeks later, I would be on the bus to stay with Mother. What I did not know was that my parents had negotiated the transfer of my custody to Mother, and along with her re-marrying, we were going to relocate to a small Alabama town that was not very far from the Florida state line.
The train trip was exciting and, I conjured fantasies about what life in Alabama would be like. My fantasies came crashing down when we arrived in a town that looked as if it had stepped out of the pages of Erskine Caldwell's novel, Tobacco Road. The town's main street was concrete but the sidewalks were made of wooden boards like those seen in old west movies, and they were elevated. Building roofs extended to the edge of the sidewalks and were supported by four by four wooden posts. There were several stores that would normally be found in a country town. There was one restaurant, two restaurant bar and grill's, a grain and feed store, grocery stores at either end of the street, a plumbing and air-conditioning store and next to it the Quillen Electrical Supplies store. Typical of a sleepy southern town with wooden benches in front of each store and, occupied by various town residents.
On the outskirts of the town were four huge warehouses strategically placed on either side of the railroad tracks. On the roof of each warehouse there was a sign built on wooded stilts that loudly proclaimed them as being the Alabama Cooperative Cotton Growers Association. I later learned that each warehouse had it's own cotton gin, and after the cotton was processed it was pressed into five hundred pound bales stored within the warehouse until shipment. As it had been in the years gone by, King Cotton still reigned supreme.
There was a small train depot a few yards from the cotton warehouses, and there was an unpaved dirt road leading from the main highway past the warehouses to the depot. The dusty roadway continued past the depot to several ramshackle wooden houses that were not particularly impressive or arranged in any particular fashion. These, I later learned, were the homes of the field workers. I was engrossed in looking out the passenger car windows when I heard Arthur's gruff voice; "were here, Devon."
"Yes, Sir," I answered in an automatic tone of voice while thinking, 'yeah, we sure are.'
Removing my two suitcases from the overhead rack, I fell in behind my mother who looked over her shoulder and asked, "Have you forgotten anything, Devon?"
"No, ma'am," I answered.
As if not believing me, she checked where we had been sitting before moving to the top of the iron stairs that descended to the wooden platform of the depot. When I stepped down from the passenger car, I saw Arthur being hugged by an older man whom I figured was his father. After Arthur introduced him to my mother, he gave her a hug and kissed her on the cheek. He gave me a quick cursory glance of indifference as he turned toward Arthur and asked, "How was the trip?"
I was standing just behind mother as Arthur was speaking to his father when suddenly reaching behind her and grasping my shoulder, he pulled me forward. Mother interrupted what Arthur was going to say by saying, "Mr. Quillen, this is my son, Devon."
Standing stiffly, I endured a look of disbelief as he looked at me, mother and Arthur before asking in a tone of surprise, "That's your boy? Arthur, you didn't say anything about your wife having a boy."
"Well," Arthur drawled, "I wouldn't say he is a boy, Dad, Devon is fifteen years old and right sturdy to be called a boy," Arthur answered, glancing at my mother before continuing. "I was so involved in telling you as much as I could about Eunice that, I sort of overlooked mentioning Devon."
'That's a pretty big oversight.' I thought to myself as Mr.Quillen gave me a closer look.
Glancing at mother, he smiled as he said, "He's a right sturdy looking young man, Misses."
I was peeved enough at that point that I was on the verge of verbally defending myself when Mr. Quillen suddenly extended his hand. Gripping mine, he said, "Welcome to Alabama, young fella."
I was flabbergasted by the sudden change in his demeanor but, I managed to stammer, "Thank you, Sir."
"you're welcome," he replied, going on and saying, "Elmer the depot manager will send your luggage to the house Arthur, Mother has been fretting ever since you called that you'all were coming home."
"How is mother doing, Dad?" Arthur asked as the three of them walked toward a large black dust covered ninteen-thirty-nine, four-door Buick with me bringing up the rear, struggling with my two suitcases.
"Your, Mother is doing tolerable well, Son, tolerable well." Mr. Quillen answered in a subdued tone. "The doctors tend to her nigh about daily and, she did brighten considerable when I told her you would be coming home."
"I'm anxious to see her," Arthur said as his father opened the car's trunk compartment.
Mr. Quillen took my two suitcases and placed them inside the car's large luggage compartment. Glancing at his son as he growled, "I reckon you should be after all the years you've been away."
"The war had something to do with that, Dad."
"I reckon that might be true but, a note every now and then wouldn't have hurt none," Mr. Quillen grunted as he started the car.
There was very little conversation other than an occasional remark about someone having passed away or the crop wasn't looking to good until Mr. Quillen suddenly, without warning, said, "I'll take you by the store, and you can get one of the pickup trucks to use until you make up your mind about whether you'll be buying a new car or one that's been used. Personally, I'd be buying one of the new ones instead of something made before the war."
I was sitting in the front seat beside Mr. Quillen, and for several seconds the interior of the car was pregnant with silence from the economical comments concerning a new or used vehicle plus the lack of in-depth information concerning Arthur's mother. Air-conditioning in automobiles was not ever thought of in those days, and the interior was stifling. To avoid the dust getting inside the passenger compartment, the windows were cracked only an inch or two for ventilation. I could feel sweat running down my back and down over my rips from my arm pits as well as another stream running down between the ridges of abdominal muscles.. The cracked leather of the cars seats felt like it was stuck to my under thighs, and the sweat flowing into my crotch made it even more uncomfortable. I had an intense urge to rearrange my cock and balls but out of fear of being seen by Mr. Quillen, I suffered hoping the others felt as uncomfortable as I was.
After we stopped at the Quillen Electrical Store and Arthur picked out the better of the three pickup trucks that serviced the store, we transferred the luggage and drove out of town to the old Steven's Farm where we would be living. Mr. Quillen owned the farm and tilled the land but, we would be living in the farm house. The house and nearby barn were old but sturdy looking. The clapboard siding of the house and the barn had not been painted in who knows how many years and there was no grass to been seen. Two large cottonwood trees were in the front and a fig tree in the back. Several feet away from the house to the rear of the property, there was a small building with several bushes surrounding it. What iT was was unmistakable, I had seen such a building on my grandfather's farm in Kentucky, the out house. When I saw it, I assumed that there was no running water in the house and, I was right. Water was supplied by an indoor hand pump at the kitchen sink. With the exception of brushing our teeth, and washing our hands and face at the kitchen sink; full body bathing would be done outside in a large galvanized wash tub. I wasn't really concerned about bathing in a tub but, I was concerned about my mother. She must have complained about the conditions to Arthur but if she had, nothing was done while I lived there.
It didn't take long for us to be settled into the farm house. Mom and Arthur bought a new kitchen table with chairs for the kitchen, a small four drawer chest for their bedroom and mine in addition to accessories and curtains.
For the first week while Arthur worked at the store, I helped Mom clean and arrange the farm house. She had a knack for making a dump look like paradise. The worst part about living in the country among acres and acres of cotton fields was the loneliness. Arthur had the use of one of the stores pickup trucks and we were stuck without transportation. Mom asked for a car, and Arthur bought her a nineteen thirty nine Chevrolet sedan. New cars were slowly coming on the market but they were more than we could afford. Used cars hadn't been driven that much during the war, and ours was in pretty good shape.
After Arthur left for work, we would clean the house before Mother and I drove to the store. She would help in the stores office, and I was a sort of all-round errand boy. There was another boy working in the store, his name was Travis. He worked in the back of the store and in the large detached storage building behind the store. Travis was maybe three or four years older than me. He had smooth, good looking Nordic features, and a well-built muscular body. He might have weighed about one-hundred sixty pounds and, he was only a head taller than me. He had thick blond, flaxen hair and, intense blue eyes that seemed to twinkle when he looked at me. I had never seen a blue that matched the blue of his eyes except for pictures of huge blue iced glaciers that were in the National Geographic Magazines.
It was the second day after I had started working in the store that Travis was in mother's office talking with her, and she introduced us. We shook hands and, I was so nervous that my legs felt like rubber. He grinned broadly as we shook, and said, "It's good meeting you, Devon."
"Me too," I croaked.
I felt very uncomfortable, and Travis must have sensed it. He gave my hand an extra firm squeeze, and releasing my hand, he winked as he turned back to my mother saying, "Young Mr. Quillen asked me to tell you that he wants the order for the replacement GE Hot Water Heater to go out by express mail."
"Tell Mr. Quillen that, Ill be sure it does, Travis," Mother said in her soft voice.
"Yes, ma'am," Travis responded, and looking at me as he turned to leave, said, "If you need any help, Dev, I'm usually in the back."
"Huh, oh yeah, thanks," I stuttered, trying to gather my dumbstruck wits.
I couldn't help staring after Travis as he walked away and disappeared through the doors leading to the back work room. My hand still tingled from where we had shook hands and, I could feel the heat rising in my groin as my cock started to swell. I was so intent on Travis, I didn't even hear mother until, tapping my shoulder she said, sharply, "Devon, put you cap on, and take this to the post office. Be sure you tell Mr. Evers that it is to go out by express mail, and don't forget the post office receipt."
I felt hot all over my body, and I was sure she could not have helped seeing my blazing red cheeks as I answered, "Wha...oh, yes, Mother, I will."
For several days after meeting Travis, my cock would get hard just thinking about him and wondering what he would look like naked. The first time we met, I was so stricken with how good looking he was that, I didn't get a chance to check out his crotch. We would see each other during the day, and he would wave and smile or call out "Hey, Dev. how you doing?"
My answer was usually a squeaky "Okay." He would grin, and then return to what he was doing.
I was still a virgin, and not really sure about how to approach someone who made me feel like so nervous or get as excited as I did every time we spoke. Meeting kids in school was totally different than approaching someone that excited me as much as Travis did. Unfortunately, that was one of the big reasons that I was still a virgin. I was afraid to try speaking to someone out of fear of being ridiculed or even hurt physically. Arthur solved the problem a few days later while we were at supper.
We were eating quietly when, Arthur, looked at Mother and said, "If you don't need Devon for anything tomorrow, Eunice, I want to take him with me. I've got a pretty big job down in Edisto just over the state line and, I'll be needing his help along with Travis."
"There is nothing that important that has to be done, Arthur," Mother replied softly. "I can handle what there is to do. Besides, he is fifteen, and it will do him good to get out of the store for a little while instead of hanging around with little for him to do."
I was hardly able to contain my excitement when, I heard Arthur say he needed me to help him and Travis. Just getting away from the store was break enough but to be working with Travis was really cool. I was engrossed in thinking about what it would be like and what might happen, and my cock was hard as steel when his sharp voice penetrated the fog of fantasy. "Devon, do you think you can be ready to leave at five o'clock in the morning?"
"Yes, Sir," I replied quickly, blanking off the erotic thoughts that had filled my head."
"That is leaving at five o'clock, Devon, not getting up at five o'clock."
"Yes, Sir, I understand," I replied. "I'll be ready when you are."
"See that you are," he said, glancing at me sharply.
On the following day Arthur and mother were up before dawn. After calling me to be sure that I was up, Mother prepared our breakfast. After eating, I was impatient to leave. When we arrived at the store, Travis was waiting at the front door. Arthur pulled up to where he was standing, he put the truck into neutral and jumped out saying, "Travis, drive the truck around to the back while I open the doors."
"Yes, Sir," he replied looking in the cab and seeing me."Morning, Dev, are you going with us?" He asked as he jumped into the front seat. I could feel a twinge of anticipation in my groin, and I prayed for my cock not to get hard out of fear of being embarrassed.
"I reckon so, Travis, Arthur said something about you and him needing me for this job."
"He might be right, Dev, we've go some heavy lifting to do but from the looks of you, I don't think we'll have much trouble," he said, slapping my inner thigh and squeezing the soft flesh before running his hand down to my knee.
My breathing reacted automatically, and I inhaled deeply almost gasping when he touched me. I felt my cock swelling, and a tingling feeling spreading over my body. For a moment, I was in a quandary as how I should react to such an overt action; but, instead of reacting physically even though I wanted to, I hesitated and said, "I lifted hay bales and helped my grandfather on his farm."
"From the looks of your build, I can see you did, and I'll bet you did more then that," he replied, winking at me as he backed up to the stores loading platform where Arthur was waiting.
I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, and I averted my eyes and mumbled, "I might have, and you probably did it on your dad's farm."
"Maybe, I did...more than once," he said, grinning and winking at me as he got out of the truck.
It didn't take very long to load the pickup truck with the new items that we were to install. Arthur was in the back of the truck waiting for Travis and me to bring each piece to him, and then he would situate where it would ride the best. When we were lifting the hotwater-heater from the two-wheeled dolly, I could see Travis's bicep muscles bulging from the strain and, I glanced at mine to see if they compared with his...they did, and a feeling of pride swept over me as we worked together. While Arthur and Travis were loading the tools they would be using, I was instructed to tie the load down. My boy scout training came in handy while doing this, and I blessed my scoutmaster for not letting me get away with being sloppy. When we were ready to go, I noticed my step-father checking the knots that I had used and when Travis looked at me and winked, I felt good on the inside when Arthur didn't have anything to complain about.
The trip to Edisto was not that long and, I was stuck in the middle. Fortunately, I could cover my crotch with my hands so my hardon was not visible. Travis had his arm across the back of the seat, and his elbow out the open window on his right. If Arthur hadn't been on my left, I wouldn't have minded the feel of Travis's hard thigh rubbing against mine or the pressure of his forearm on the back of my neck. The pressure of his leg against mine seemed, at least to me, to be more than just the casual touching that would be normal for two people sitting as close to each other as we were. Occasionally he would glance at me and wink while scratching the top of my shoulder with his fingers. I wasn't an expert on how men interacted but, I would have sworn scratching my shoulder and rubbing his leg against mine was on purpose and, I have to admit it felt good.
The ride was really not that uncomfortable but, I was glad when we did reach Edisto and then the customer's home.
The house was two-stories with a covered porch. There were four windows with a wide wooden door in-between them on the first floor. The second floor had five windows, and they were aligned with the first-floor windows and door so that they matched. The roof was gray slate and the outside had at one time been painted in what must have been a coat of white paint with green paint on the window shutters and trim.
There was no lawn to speak of, just several pine trees and a very narrow strip of weed filled sand between the fence and the house. Except for a forsythia vine, the one time wooden picket fence that had been built on three sides of the house would more then likely have fallen.
I saw a short sort of roundish man standing on the front porch when Arthur pulled off the road onto an oyster shell covered driveway. He stepped off of the porch and walked to the truck as we were getting out. After Travis got out, I followed, standing with one hand holding the door while Travis was leaning against the truck bed. We were looking at the man walking toward us.
He was wearing a dirty white shirt, and broad black suspenders that held up dirty white trousers. He was unshaven and except for a thin fringe of head hair, he was totally bald. His pants were pulled up so tight in his crotch that there was a small, hardly what could have been called large, bulge visible on the left side of his crotch. He was wearing scruffed up black high-up shoes with no visible socks.
I was transfixed with what I saw and, amazed that someone could let themselves be so dirty and ungroomed. I couldn't help but wonder what the woman of the house or for that matter, the interior of the house might look like. "Jesus," I thought out loud not realizing that Travis had moved closer beside me. "He is the crudest person I've ever seen."
"You can say that again, Kid. I wonder when he last took a bath," Travis said softly, his hot breath flowing over my ear. "I sure wouldn't want to sleep with him washed or unwashed."
When I heard him, I turned, and our noses were barely millimeters apart. Pulling my head back, I stammered, "What?"
"You know, Dev, sex," he said softly, his brilliant blue eyes twinkling. "I damn sure wouldn't want to be in bed having sex with him. Jesus, I bet it stinks when his old lady opens her legs, and his cock is probably just as rotten as her cunt." He whispered as he squeezed the cheek of my ass and patted it as he turned to follow my step-father.
Arthur, shook hands with the dirty rotund man, and while they were talking, Travis stood a few feet in back of Arthur. I was still standing by the pickup truck when a large extremely fat lady emerged from the wide front door. I couldn't help but think that the door was just wide enough for her. She waddled up to where Arthur and the customer were talking, and Travis turned looking over his shoulder at me and grinning like a cheshire cat. I returned his grin, thinking we were probably thinking the same thing when he groped his crotch and mouthed words that looking like he was saying, "Oh shit." . If he had been doing white face in a play, he couldn't have done better in expressing in mime what he we both were thinking.
Arthur and the rotund man shook hands, and turning away, he moved to where I was waiting, with Travis following. When they had almost reached where I was, I let my eyes fall to where Travis had groped his cock, and while it wasn't huge, there was the faint outline of his cock extending down his left pant leg, and I felt my cock surge slightly. When I looked up, I was a twinkle in his eyes and he grinned and winked.
"Well now," Arthur said. "We got a break, Mr. and Mrs. Burlington were hoping we would be early, they have to go into town on some business that will take up most of their day. I assured them that wouldn't be a problem since I had already drawn up the plans that we would need to make the installations and re-wiring."
"Re-wiring, Mr. Quillen?" Travis asked, looking a little confused.
"Yeah, we've got to remove the old wiring and replace it with a higher gauge since the dryer and hot-water heater we are installing take a 220 current. The washing machine is on 110 but that's no problem. I tried to talk Burlington into upgrading to 220 and install circuit breakers but, he used the same excuse lots of people use, they like fuses."
"Let the house burn down, and they will wish they did upgrade," Travis grumbled good-naturedly.
"That's their problem son, not ours...so, Devon you stick with Travis, and lets get to work."
It only took the unloading of the water-heater and the other machines, and Travis and I knew it was going to be a hot day. We had brought a dolly with us to help with the unloading but, the sandy ground made it almost impossible to use. The wheels even though balloon tires would sink into the sand, and pulling and pushing was worse than carrying them. By the time we got them to where they would be installed, a blazing sun was high in an almost clear blue sky and sweat was pouring off of both of us. My pullover shirt and the top of my pants were soaked with the sweat running down my back, ribs and chest.I felt it running down the crack of my ass, and from my armpit over my ribs. Travis was in the same condition, his golden blond hair was darkened by sweat, and his pullover and pants were just as soaked as mine.
While Travis and I were unloading the truck, Arthur had crawled under the house, and we could hear him cursing about floor spacers and not enough room for conduit piping or any number of things. Travis was breaking down the cardboard boxes and wrapping, and I was stacking it in the back of the truck to be taken back with us when we heard Arthur shout, "Jesus Christ, Travis, come here."
"What's the matter, Mr. Quillen," he called out as we went to where Arthur was standing, shaking his head.
"What's the matter you ask," he growled almost menacingly. "Was the carton damaged when you removed it from the dryer?"
"No, Sir, I don't think it was, in fact, I'm sure it was not."
"It had to be, Travis or the corner of the dryer wouldn't be damaged."
Travis and I both looked where Arthur was pointing, and there was damage where he indicated. Travis looked at me, and then said, "I'm sorry, Sir, I didn't see it."
"How about you, Devon, didn't you see the damage?"
"No, Sir, I didn't, and if you check the cartons, I bet none of them are damaged," I said, anger rising in the tone of my voice at the both of us being unjustly accused.
For a moment, Arthur's eyes blazed, and I braced myself for the rage that would follow. In the past he had gotten angry whenever I had bucked his authority and I was sure he was going to accuse me of what he considered to be impudence. He surprised me when inhaling and exhaling explosively, he exclaimed, "Aw shit, what's the difference, we have to replace it with another from the warehouse."
Travis looked at me before very tentatively, he said, "It could have been hidden shipper damage, Mr. Quillen. We have received dryers and washers like that in the past. The manufacturer will damage an item while it's in production, and rather then repair it they bolt it to a wooden skid and then cover it with an undamaged carton."
We saw that Arthur was thinking, and glancing at each other we moved into the shade of the porch. After a few minutes, Arthur said, "you're probably right, Travis. I'll have to check with Dad, and see where we stand with General Electric. In the meantime, you and Devon will have to take the damaged one back to the store and exchange it for a new one. Be sure and take the carton off to make sure it's not damaged, and then wrap it in the furniture blankets that we use for refrigerators and be sure it is tied tightly for the trip back.."
"Do you want us to go now or help you with the wiring first?" Travis asked.
"Hmmmm," Arthur said as he drank a large cup of the ice water we had brought with us. "I hadn't thought of that, Travis. I tell you what, you guys can help me run the cable from the outside panel to the inside fuse box. You can hookup it up to the outside electrical panel and then slide it under the house to me. I can feed it through the floor spacers and up through the floor conduit piping to Devon and he can pull it into the pantry closet in the kitchen. After that is done, I can install the fuse box and finish most of the wiring while you two are gone."
In his usual exuberant self, Travis said, "Hey, that sounds like a plan to me."
After finishing and double checking the two-twenty wiring, Travis and I loaded the damaged dryer into the back of the truck and tied it down. We checked with Arthur to see if there was anything else that might be needed. He admonished us to be careful and check the new dryer closely.
Leaving his lunch with him, we started the return trip to the warehouse.
TBC