The Construction Worker

Jordan was anxious to use his free pass to Michael's. He wanted to ask Joe to go with him, maybe show him around, but he remembered that Joe had told him not to get interested in the place, like he didn't think he should be going there. So he waited till Joe's poker night in the back of the pool hall. He wore a good pair of jeans and his favorite yellow T-shirt that fit him like a glove. Not skin tight, but he filled it out good. Hiking boots and his baseball cap finished his ensemble.
Michael's was no more than he expected; a dimly-lit bar with a raised platform in the center for the dancers. A bank of lights surrounded the platform, with a brass pole at each end. In one end of the bar there were small round tables, built up high, with bar stools around them. At the other end was sort of an alcove, darker than the rest of the place with stools around the mirrored walls and the T-shaped bar that separated it from the rest of the place. Jordan showed his free pass.
"I need to see some ID," the bouncer said.
Jordan gave him his driver’s license.
"Belated happy birthday, but I can't let you in. Drinking age is twenty-one."
"I don't want to drink," Jordan said.
"It doesn't work that way," the man said.
"Then how come I got this free pass?"
The bouncer looked Jordan up and down; an approving look. "Hang on, I'll get Michael.” The man went and got the bartender and brought him over. "This is Mike."
"Jordan," he said, putting his hand out.
"Nice name," Mike said.
"I got this pass for my birthday," Jordan said.
"There's some mistake. I can't let you in as a customer because you're under twenty one, but are you looking for a night job?"
"I wasn't, but what's the job?" Jordan asked.
"Dancer," Mike said. "Well, dancer-slash-stripper."
Jordan was taken aback but immediately excited over the idea. "I can't get in but I can work here?"
"It's a deal where you come in the back door and go straight upstairs to the dressing room. You do your sets and go back in the dressing room, no wandering around the bar. Which means you can't work the place."
"What do you mean work the place," Jordan asked.
"You'll see. You don't have to give me an answer right now," Mike went on.
"You can stick around and watch part of the show before you decide. Just park that tight butt on the end bar stool and don't move."
"All right, thanks."
Mike took him over to the bar and got him a coke. "That's the best I can do in the way of a drink," he said.
"That's okay," Jordan said.
"Show's going to be starting in a few minutes."

The lights in the bar grew even dimmer but the lights that were focused on the stage went up a little, and beams of color began criss-crossing the stage. An announcer's voice boomed out a welcome then introduced the first dancer. His name was Aaron. Everyone had names like Aaron, Luke, Jake, nothing common.
Aaron was a small but well-built kid, not much older than Jordan. He came out wearing a pair of coveralls unzipped half way down his chest. He had a good chest. He began to move in time with the music. It was sensual as hell. Little by little he took the coveralls, teasing the crowd as he bared more and more of his tight body. He danced for a few minutes in his briefs then slowly stripped them off, down to a thong. A few more minutes and another dancer was announced.

Jordan downed his coke faster than he thought. Mike sat another one in front of him. He took a sip and reared back. "This isn't..."
Mike waved him off. The drink had something in it. Something strong. But he liked it, and he was pleased that Mike had given it to him.
"Think you can do that?"
"Yeah."
"Do you want an audition?" Mike asked.
"When?"
"Next Wednesday."
"Sure. Hey, I know you told me not to move off of this stool, but I 've gotta take a piss," Jordan said.
"Right there, second door," Mike said. "Just don't linger; don't make me have to come in there after you," he said, laughing.
He slid off the stool and walked the couple of yards to the restroom door. It was a small restroom and there was already one guy standing at the long porcelain enamel trough. Two more guys followed him in. He stepped around the other guy and unzipped his jeans. Like he always did, he hauled out his balls too, and draped his cock over it. He didn't know why, he just liked to piss with his balls hanging out. The guy next to him on his right, glanced down.
"Now I know I'm drunk; there's nothing that big that's read," he said, slurring his words.
Jordan laughed and let the piss flow. Another guy squeezed in on Jordan's right and looked squarely down at his cock.
"Fuck! I'm not drunk. Is that real? Can I feel it to see if it's real?"

Jordan put his elbow out to stop the man from reaching for his cock. "Take my word for it, it's real," he said. He didn't mind the attention but he was afraid Mike might walk in. When he was done he half turned from the urinal trough to put his cock away, purposely to show off to the other two guys in the rest room.
"Show off," one of them said.
"Not so fast about putting it away," the other said. "If you're not going to let us feel it, at least let us look."
Jordan waited a few seconds for them to get a good look at him before he stuffed everything back inside his shorts, then he left.
"That quick enough?" he asked Mike as he slid back on the stool.
Mike just laughed. Damian was on stage. He was a heavily muscled college kid, looked like a football player except that he had great definition. And a huge bulge in his briefs. The bulge relaxed a little when he took his briefs off and it was held up by a thong. It bounced and swung around with the weight of manhood.
"Does anything ever fall out?" Jordan asked Mike.
"It happens," Mike said. "We have Rage night once a month when everything falls out," he went on.
"They strip naked?"
"Anything goes," Mike said.
"Anything?"
"Anything and everything," Mike said. "You don't have to
participate in everything, but you do need to leave your inhibitions at the door."
"How do you get by with that?"
"This is a private club. You would've had to show your membership card if you hadn't had the pass. And we lock the doors on Rage night."
Jordan watched Damian gyrating sexily about the stage, pausing often to let someone stuff money in his thong. He noticed that they were all getting a good feel of his manhood while they were at it. Yeah, he could do this. Then he noticed the other dancers were still in the bar, standing around talking to the customers and letting them feel their butts and all over their bodies and they were twisting around and smashing themselves against them and letting them feel them up. They moved from one guy to another as they collected bills in their thongs or jockstraps.
"That's called working the crowd," Mike said.
"And I can't do that."
"No, but you'll rake in plenty of tips when you're on stage."
"What's the difference if they feel me up on stage, like they are him right now, or out in the bar?"
"Back in the dark, they sometimes get a little more bold about it," Mike said.

Jordan didn't tell Joe that he had used the pass till several days later when he asked him about it.
"I used it," Joe said rather timidly.
"You already went? When?"
"When you were playing poker."
"Dammit, I wanted to take you your first time," Joe said.
"I'm sorry...I was afraid to tell you after you told me not to get interested in the place; I didn't think you would approve."
"I meant I didn't want you to go off on your own," Joe said. "Was it ladies night, or the guys?"
"The guys were dancing, but there were a few women there," Jordan said. "You don't have to watch over me every minute of the day and night, you know."
"I know. You're eighteen. Well, it's going to take me a little time to get used to that," Joe said. "Did you have a good time?"
"I had a great time," Jordan said. "You know what else?"
"What else?"
"I got offered a job."
"As a stripper!"
"Well, they call them male exotic dancers."
"No shit! Well, you've got the looks and the body for it," Joe said.
"You're not mad?"
"Well, it's not something you would want to write home to your mother about, but I'm not your mother. When do you start?"
"I just got the offer. I have to go in for an audition tonight."
"Well, hey, I want to be there opening night," Joe said with a wide grin.
"Good. I'm glad. I wanted you to be there. I know I said you don't have to watch over me all the time, but I would feel safer with you there in the crowd. They get pretty wild."

Joe saw that Jordan was getting more comfortable living with him, and sleeping with him. It was routine, now, for the boy to strip down and crawl right in bed with him, and always expecting to have sex. It was rare that a night went by that Joe didn't give the boy a raging blowjob or eat his young, tender ass. Jordan liked that almost as much as getting his cock sucked. Joe had come awfully close to kissing him a couple of times. It was a natural urge when he had his mouth full of come, to lean up and kiss him and let him have some of it back. But he thought it would freak the boy out.
He was jealous over his job at the strip club but Jordan was happy to be bringing in some money and paying down what he owed Joe. He hated all those other guys feeling him up and ogling his muscular young body.
"Look, Jordan, you don't have to work over there," he told him one night. "I'm writing off whatever you still owe me, so you don't have to."
"No, you're not," Jordan said.
"Yes. I am," Joe said emphatically. "Hell, Jordan, you're
living here...I like having you here. I like your company and... all that goes with it."
"I like living here, Joe. I thank God every night that you took me in. And I like everything that goes with it, too. But I want to pay my way."
"That's not the way it works when..."
"When...what?" Jordan asked.
"Well, you...you're almost like a son to me. If I had a son, I would want him to be like you. I would want him to be you. But I can't act too much like a father, I know that."
"I like it, Joe, when you act like my dad," the boy said. "I don't mind you telling me what to do, and worrying about me. I've fought it, but I...." He stopped and swallowed. "Sometimes I let myself think that you are my dad."

"Aw, fuck, Jordan, why didn't you tell me you felt that way?" Joe said, hugging the boy close to him.
"Because I didn't know you felt that way, too."
"Now that we know...you understand where I'm coming from...so you can quit that job."
Jordan smiled at him. "Are you jealous, Joe?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am. It tears me up that those guys are feeling you up and God knows what else."
"There's nothing else," Jordan said. "It's more money stuffed in my jock if they get to feel me up."
"What about that Rage night?"
"I skipped that," Jordan said. "I didn't feel right about it."
"That's good to know."
"Something else..."
"What?"
"Dancing for those guys, letting them look at my body, and feeling me up and knowing they want me so dam bad that they're sweating blood...it gets me all hot for when I come home."
"And here I thought it was your raging teenage hormones that I had to cool down every night."
"Stripping is what gets those teenage hormones raging," he said.
"Will you ever do Rage night?"
"I don't know. I don't think so."
"Don't do it, Jordan...not till you know more...have more
experience."
"Is there more you need to show me?"
"Oh, yeah. A lot more."
"Why're you holding back?"
"I want to make sure you're comfortable with it every step of the way."
"I am, Joe. I'm comfortable with anything you want do to. I trust you."
"And I'm not going to betray that trust," Joe promised.

Joe came in off the worksite to report in to the trailer. Jordan's truck was gone.
"Where's Jordan?" he asked Brad.
"He said he needed to take off early."
"Did he say where?"
"Nope. And I didn't pry."
Joe expected to find him at home but he wasn't there. He fixed supper and waited. Finally, he ate alone; or tried to. His stomach was so tied in knots he couldn't get it down. He left the table and paced from one window to the other. He went to the door to see if Jordan's truck was parked in the alley. He went back to the windows. It was going to be dark soon. Maybe he'd gone to see his mother. But he always told him when he was going to visit his mother; he never made any secret of it. Finally, his stomach tight in knots, he headed out to check on him.
Jordan's step-dad came to the door.
"What do you want?" the man asked in his bravest tone.
"Is Jordan here?"
"No."
"Has he been here?"
"No."
"I would like to talk to his mother."
"I said, he's not been here."
Joe shifted his weight with his thumbs crooked in his belt. He sighed. "Do we want to go there again?" he asked.

The man hesitated but then turned to get his wife.
"Ma'm, Jordan left work early and he's not home yet. Your husband said he hasn't been here."
"No, he hasn't. I haven't seen him since last Tuesday."
"Do you have any idea where he might be, for me to look for him?"
"She thought for a moment. "Well, I don't know if he still goes there but he used to go to the falls when he had something he needed to think through."
"Where's that?"
"On down the road, turn left at the second cross-road and it's about six miles. You turn off just past the cemetery, before you get to a big red barn and follow that little road down to the river. You'll be able to hear the falls."
"Thank you."
"Will you let me know?"
"Yes. If I don't come back, you'll know he's okay."
"Thank you so much," she said. Her voice trailed off and her gaze lingered on Joe's face. "Thank you for everything."
"Don't thank me, M'am. He's a pleasure to have around."
He drove hard to the cross-road and threw gravel as he tore down the six-mile stretch of road toward the barn. It loomed up ahead, a silhouette against the gray sky. He slowed past the cemetery, looking for the road, when suddenly he saw Jordan's truck. He slammed on his brakes, skidding in the gravel, and turned into the cemetery. He crawled along the narrow, grassy road, up behind Jordan's pickup. He saw Jordan sitting on a headstone a dozen yards away. He got out and closed the door quietly. He approached him slowly. He knew Jordan had seen him although he never lifted his head.
"You okay, son?" he asked quietly as he stood in front of him.

Jordan gazed at his work boots and finally nodded. Joe squatted down on his haunches and crooked his finger under the boy's chin to lift his head. There were tears in his eyes, and streaks of wet down his cheeks.
"What's the matter?"
"You...c-called me son," he said as he choked back the sobs.
"I...I guess I meant it, too," Joe said. He leaned forward on his knees and took the boy in his arms. The broke out in sobs and Joe held him tight, chest to chest as the boy slid off the head stone to his knees to be embraced by the big construction worker. He cried for a moment then reared back, wiping the tears from his eyes. Joe pulled out his bandana and gave it to him. He wiped the tears off his face and handed it back.
"Do you come here often?" Joe asked.
"When I need to talk to him," Jordan said. "I don't know if he hears me; he don't answer."
"Sure he hears you," Joe said. "He's watching over you. And if you need answers...answers that you can hear, well, there's always me. I know I'm not your dad and I don't mean to try to take his place, but I'm here for you, son."
"Do you mean that?" he asked. "I mean calling me son. It sounds so good to hear that again. I didn't think I ever would again."
"I mean it, more than I ever meant anything in my life," Joe said. "If I had a son of my own, I would want him to be just like you. I would like to be your stand-in dad if you'll let me."
"God, Joe, how was I ever lucky enough to meet up with you?"

"Maybe your dad arranged it," Joe said with a sly grin. "Maybe he turned you in the right direction and I was just there."
"Well, he certainly knew which way to guide me," Jordan said.
"Will you let me?" Joe asked.
"Yes. I've been telling myself I didn't need a dad; I'm old enough to take care of myself. I am, but...I still need a dad."
"You don't ever get too old to need a dad," Joe said as he set back on his haunches and stood up. He pulled Jordan to his feet.
"How'd you know to find me here?"
"I asked your mom."
"You went to see my mom?"
"Yes, I was worried about you and I thought you might be there. She said you used to go to the falls when you had something you needed to think through."
"Yeah, but now I stop off here."
"Do you want to show me the falls?" Joe asked.
"Sure, come on. Follow me."
Joe followed Jordan's pickup past the cemetery through a sparse woods to a wide, grassy clearing beside a creek. He could hear the sound of a waterfall. It sounded pretty steep. They parked their trucks and Jordan led the way around a bend in the creek where the water came crashing down the rocks into a big pool that caught the water and sent it downstream.
"This is where bear Creek begins," Jordan said. "Come on, I'll show you the spot I always go to, since I was a little kid. I never knew anybody to ever go there, probably because it's a hard climb."
Joe followed him around the pool and up the rocky cliff alongside the falls. The sound of the water crashing down was deafening. About two thirds of the way up the falls there was a little plateau where Jordan led the way to a grassy spot in front of a shallow cave. It was quieter in the cave, and cool.
"I can see why you come here," Joe said.
"Do you want to go swimming?"

Joe looked down at the pool. "I don't think I want to dive into that without knowing what's there."
"No, that would be dumb as hell," Jordan said. "I meant up top. It's nice and calm back from where the water goes over the falls. Then we could come back down here to dry off."
They climbed the rest of the way up, to the pristine water that seemed like glass before it went crashing over the rocky ledge. Jordan started taking off his clothes and Joe followed suit. He followed Jordan's lead, going into the water where it was shallow enough to wade out up to their necks. He could barely feel any current. They swam, quiet, and Joe was happy that he had found the boy and could be here with him. He needed Jordan as much as the boy needed him. When they got out of the pool, Jordan gathered up his clothes but didn't put them on.
"We can go back down to our spot naked," he said. "It's fun to lie in the grass in the sun and dry off."
Joe's mind kicked into overdrive as he watched the boy climb down, his smooth, young muscles rippling with power. His cock hadn't shrunk at all, even in the cool water, and it looked like it might drag over the rocks.

"This can be our spot now, Joe," he said as they stood looking down at the pool below.
"I thought we had an arrangement," Joe said.
"What arrangement?"
"You said I could call you son, and you said you were going to call me dad."
"That's going to take some getting used to."
"Wanta practice?"
"Sure...dad." He laughed softly. Suddenly he wrapped his arms around Joe's chest from behind and pressed his body tight against his back. "It feels so good to say that again."
"It feels good to hear it, son," Joe said, reaching back to clasp his hand over Jordan's bare butt.
"This is not a good idea," Jordan said as he started to pull away.
"It's okay, don't move," Joe said, squeezing his butt to hold him in place.
"I'm getting a hardon."
"Leave it there," Joe told him.

They stood still while Jordan's young cock grew to its full size, throbbing against the back of Joe's thighs. Joe spread his legs apart to let it swing up between them. The head throbbed against his balls and he reached down to rub the boy's precome over it.
"Aww, that feels good," Jordan whispered. After a minute or two, he started moving his cock a little, back and forth between Joe's thighs. Everything was falling into place. Joe reached back with both hands and grabbed Jordan's butt muscles to hold him tightly in place as he slowly guided them to their knees.
"Now it’s poking at your ass," Jordan said huskily.
"Leave it there," Joe said as he leaned forward on his hands and knees. He spat up some thick spit and lubed up between his butt muscles. He looked over his shoulder. "Put it in," he said.
Jordan's eyes widened and his mouth went slack. "You mean in...in your ass? You w-want me to f-fuck you?"
"Yes, but you have to put it in first," Joe said. His spit and Jordan's ball juice furnished all the lube they needed. Jordan pressed the head of his cock firmly against Joe's hole but he barely pushed.
"You have to push hard," Joe told him. "Harder. You gotta force it in."
"B-but isn't it going to hurt?"
"Nothing I can't handle," Joe said.
"But I..."
"Just do it, son. Push hard and force your cock in me."

Jordan did as he was told. He clasped his hands around Joe's hip bones and pushed as hard as he could. Suddenly, Joe's asshole spread open and Jordan's cock slipped in and Joe's asshole clamped around the head. Joe let out a groaning gasp but stifled it as best he could.
"That hurt, didn't it?" Jordan said.
"What'd you expect? Shit, son, you're a horse. Fuck, yeah, it hurts but don't pull out. Just keep going. Give me all of it."
"You want my whole cock in you? How will it all fit?"
"It's up to you to figure out where to put it," Joe said.
Jordan's butt and legs were trembling as he shoved more of his cock inside his new dad's ass. He watched, mesmerized as the tiny stretched hole swallowed more and more of his thick meat. His cock had never looked so huge or felt so long. It seemed the more he buried it the more there was left to go. He hit something but maneuvered around the obstacle and drove deeper.
"There, you're figuring it out," Joe said.
"Is it still hurting?"
"That's for me to handle," Joe said.
Jordan kept shoving till his cock had completely disappeared. He pressed his loins hard against Joe's spread butt.
"AWwwhhhhhhhhh!" Joe moaned loudly.
"Does that..."
"Stop!" Joe cut him off. "Stop asking. It don't matter how much it hurts, it's what follows that counts. It's starting to feel good. Give it a minute then start fucking me."
They stayed poised for a moment and Joe squeezed his ass tightly around the boy's thick cock to let him know it was okay to proceed. Jordan eased back about nine inches then buried all nine inches again.
"Awwhhhhhh!" Joe moaned again. He eased forward on his elbows and lay flat on the ground. Jordan moved up over him, astraddle his hips with his knees locked against his sides and began fucking him. "Awwwhh, yeah...do it, son...fuck me...fuck you dad's tight ass….."

Birds flew overhead and fluttered to perch on the saplings nearby and watch. A squirrel came up close and sat on its haunches to gape at them.
"They act like they never seen anybody getting fucked," Joe said, laughing.
Just then he felt wet dripping on his shoulder. He thought at first that it was sweat, but it wasn't that hot and they hadn't been at it long enough to work up a sweat. He felt it again. He looked over his shoulder to see tears falling from Jordan's eyes.
"Son, are you okay?"
"Yeah. Yeah, dad, I'm okay," he said. "I'm just so damned happy, that's all." He snotted and made swiped the back of hand across his eyes. "Sorry."
"Don't be sorry for being happy," Joe said. "Just lay down on top of me ….don't worry, you're not too heavy...and fuck me, nice and slow. Make it good for yourself."
"I want to make it good for you, too, dad, but you need to tell me what do to, how you like it."
"It's good for me every time I look at you," Joe said. "It's been good for me since the day I saw you at the site."
"You knew, then?"
"I knew then why my life was so empty. I knew then that I'd found what I was looking for, even though I didn't even know I was looking till I saw you. I was just so damned afraid it wouldn't be possible."
"I guess we've got my step-dad to thank for that," Jordan said.

There was the quiet again, with the birds and the gentle breeze rustling the trees on the few saplings. Jordan fucked him slowly, languidly and it felt wonderful.
"Don't be in any hurry," Joe told him. "I could do this all day."
"I'm warning you, so can I," Jordan said. The he said, "Next time...dad.….can we do it on your back?" Jordan asked.
"We can do it any way you like, son." His smile turned in a soft laugh. "That wasn't so hard, was it."
"No. Is it hard calling me son?"
"Not a bit," Joe said as he pulled the boy tight against him with his head on his chest. "It feels like you've always been my son."