And I Thought He Was Straight {2}

That same summer I was working at that warehouse in Delaware, I was renting a small apartment in Southern New Jersey. I was on the third floor of an old Victorian home on a small street that was lined with majestic oak trees. The back yard of the house I lived in had a huge garden and lawn that the owner and his wife ( a sweet older couple) took care of. I can still recall that garden with its rosebushes and trellis that were overrun with morning glories and hollyhocks. It looked like a painting.

In early August of that summer, the landlord’s wife fell and broke her leg. The landlord, Mr. Grayson asked some of the tenants if they would help him maintain the lawn as he had to look after his wife. He offered us a cut on the month’s rent, and everyone agreed. There were four other tenants at the house.

I agreed to cut the back lawn on Thursday nights.

The second Thursday I did this, Mr. Grayson introduced me to his nephew, Grant. Grant was a handsome, cocky guy but he seemed irritated at everything; like he had this giant chip on his shoulders. Nonetheless, he was supposed to help me with my Thursday night endeavor. We agreed that while I cut, he would rake. And so I began and went about my business. A half an hour later, I was done but I saw no sign of raked clippings, and no sign of Grant. I resigned myself to the fact that this punk was to be of no help and I rolled the lawnmower back to the shed and would grab the rake and clean up on my own.

About three feet from the shed’s entrance I caught a view of Grant standing with his pants down around his ankles, his cock in his hand, jerking off. He was looking down in earnest at something on the floor of the shed, a porn magazine I’d deuced. I watched him for a few seconds because, well because I was a horny bastard, but after a few minutes I got bored and left him to it and went into the house to cool off. A little while later, Grant came in, all flushed and asked me where the rake was. I told him it was in the shed. He blushed and went outside to retrieve it. Spying him hard at work in the back of the yard, I went back outside, and brought the lawnmower to the shed and as I was about to leave , I saw the magazine on the floor…there splayed out was a copy of Playgirl opened to the centerfold of some airbrushed Adonis with a flaccid penis and a look of mischief in his blue eyes. So, how about that, Grant was getting off on naked men. Maybe I’d better go have a talk with him. Well, as it turns out, Grant was married and had three children, and all I could think was that his wife was going to be in for a rude awaking some day. Oh, and no, I never had sex with him, for all of his looks, he had the personality of a bathmat …