| TOMMY by WRJ
“A mass of men live out their lives in quiet desperation” Henry Thoreau Robert Sanderson had just dropped off his wife and three kids at the train station. All four were spending the weekend his in-laws in Philadelphia. It looked like Robert was pretty much left to his own resources, until he would join them on Sunday morning. He was a corporate lawyer who lived in an anal-retentive exurb in Northern New Jersey. Robert Sanderson appreciated his work, his family, and his life in general. But Robert was bored. He had been “very” married for ten years, and robotically performed all chores necessary for man of his education and social status. But Robert was bored. He would like to do something exciting. He would like to do something non-ordinary. He would like to do something blatantly outlandish. He would like to explore his sexuality, more than anything. But Robert feared his wife, feared his in-laws, and feared his community leaders. But most of all, Robert feared himself. In essence, Robert Sanderson is the kind of man who will “strut and fret his hour upon the stage” without ever having experienced one sincere, heartfelt emotion. On his way to his gated community he decided to stop at the appliance store to pick up some batteries. He like dropping by to chat with the overweight manager who endlessly complained about how lousy business was, how lousy his marriage was, and what a lousy condition the world was in. Actually the manager was just a verbal personification of Robert Sanderson. Only Robert would never have the courage to complain about anything. It would somehow make him appear flawed. And being flawed would negatively impact upon his wife, his children, his parents, his in-laws and even his community. No, complaining aloud is something Robert would never do. It was oh so much more civilized to ever stalwartly suffer in silence. Robert parked his station wagon in the almost empty parking lot, and strode toward the door. The little ding dong noise announced his arrival when he stepped inside. Save for an elderly couple, the store was empty. Jack the manager wasn’t behind the counter. Robert meandered on back toward the battery section, stopping on the way to inspect a few new gadgets that had arrived. He lost himself for several minutes exploring the many new facets of a great laptop. In his mind he skillfully plotted out how he could squeeze a new laptop into the budget, and then skillfully justify that purchase to his wife, since he’d just gotten a laptop for Christmas. Visions of his dominating wife with that imperious expression on her face when he tried to convince her of his proposal, sat in his mind. The image eventually caused him to slightly cringe. He felt his scrotum shrink, and sensed that old familiar and bothersome twitching in his right hand. “Can I help you find something, sir?” asked a youthful male voice, penetrating the man’s glimpses into the Hell of marriage. “What..?” moaned Robert Sanderson, nervously turning to his right. He looked dead on into the face of the most attractive golden haired Anglo boy he’d ever seen. The radiant blue eyes of the trim, square-shouldered teenage clerk mesmerized the man. He stood there trapped in the glowing gaze of that seductive lopsided, boyish smile with the perfect white teeth. Robert Anderson was feverishly entranced by the glow of this medieval prince that beguiled his mind with such irresistible wizardry. But actually it was Tommy Brennan, a college student at the local university. And even though he was the epitome of the naturally masculine teenage boy, he had an almost neurotic attraction to mature, married men. The door chime announcing a new customer snapped Robert’s mind back to reality. “Ah…yah! This laptop has really got my attention!” nervously offered the man pulling his attention from the embracing blue eyes back down to the computer. This prompted the boy to immediately go into a sales spiel about the product. Robert Anderson’s attention was completely imprisoned by the young clerk's boyish poetry of movement. The rising and falling inflections of words sexily offered by the perfection of that adolescence-into-manhood voice was almost too lusty. His youthful animated enthusiasm, his velvety golden skin, his shock of lustrous blonde hair, his stiff white shirt and khaki slacks and slightly scuffed loafers, and his lopsided smile, all relentlessly contributed to escalating the married man into an advanced state of painful arousal. He was glad he had presence of mind to wear briefs that morning. Had he worn boxers, his roaring hard-on may have proven to be source of embarrassment. For some reason there was something about the kid that joggled his memory, yet nothing familiar came to mind. Tommy was glowing in his salesmanship. He really imagined that he had the man interested in the laptop computer. But it was his scintillating charisma and sexuality that had sold the man. Robert was so overmastered by the boy that he would have bought the Brooklyn Bridge from him at the moment. And even though thoughts of his reprimanding fishwife filled his mind about his excessive spending, at the moment Robert Anderson’s euphoric mind couldn’t give a rat’s ass. But all too soon, reality hit the fan when Tommy asked, “Will that be cash or charge, sir?” That question cruelly re-coursed the man’s attention to the fact that the boxed Laptop sat on the counter, he was about to become a consumer, and Tommy was making a big sale. “Oh! Oh, yeah! Ah well…!” stammered the man totally befuddled. He tried to make some sense of what had just happened. He really shouldn’t be buying this laptop. He really couldn’t afford this laptop. He really didn’t want his wife bitching about his buying this laptop for the next six months. And at the moment, he was really, really embarrassed. He stood there lost in those great big mesmerizing blue eyes that seemed to drink him in. He didn’t want to say no. He really didn’t want to break this fantastic connection that he had made with the boy. And yet he didn’t want to be a total idiot either. “Ah…ya know…..”, began Robert, stammering like a ten year old caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Before he could continue, Tommy unceremoniously reached over and placed his hand on Robert Sanderson’s arm, saying, “You don’t have to buy it Mr. Sanderson. You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want…..do you?” The man experienced that touch with every cell in his body. His temperature rose and his erect cock began to twitch in his briefs. The boy's cool smoldering stare and lopsided smile served as chains tightly securing him in his spot. He felt like a rodent in the gaze of a serpent. “Maybe you need some time to think about it”, began the boy stroking the man’s arm. “I was just about to close up for an hour and have my dinner in the office in the back. Want to join me? “Wha..what? Ah…yeah! Sure!” said the slightly befuddled man. It suddenly dawned on him that the handsome lad was just a horny as he – and that he was being hit on!. Shit! This was too good to be true, thought Robert Sanderson. Did this bright, handsome, sexy, articulate well-groomed boy want to get frisky with him? It was just too good to be true.
….to be continued
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