(9)


the next mornin when the alarm went off i was up & out of bed & ready to go before my eyes was even open hardly.  i'd woke up with just one idea in my head – to not make any more "mistakes" today.  today i was gonna be good – so good bern couldnt hardly help but notice how good i was bein.  but i knew that to do that meant i didnt have no time to waste.

when i got to the bathroom i noticed the door was shut again.  plus i could hear bern movin round inside.  i scrunched up the t-shirt i was holdin in front of me & used it to hide my dick, which was hard as ever – what'd happened last night didnt seem to have made any difference there – & gently rapped my knuckles on the door.

"sir?" i said.  "sir?"

"yeah yeah" i heard him mutter.  "hold your horses."  i stood there waitin patiently as i could for the next coupla minutes til finally he opened up.  barrelfuls of steam came rollin out, & thru it i saw bern.  he was wrappin a towel round him.  "come on in" he said.  he jerked his head at me, motionin for me to enter – then his eyes dropped down to where i had the t-shirt held up against me.  his mouth gaped.  "naw!" he says.  "cant be.  you aint really . . ."  i gave a little shrug, felt myself startin to go red, then nodded.  "what – again?" he snorted.  "jesus christ, kid!"  he flicked my hands away from the t-shirt & watched as it fell to the floor.  my dick sprang free & stood stickin up at him, long & hard.  "jesus fuckin christ!" he muttered.  "dont that thing ever go down?"  i was kinda embarrassed – but then i noticed how somethin was startin to push a little against the front of berns towel, & i knew i wasnt the only one who got horny in the mornin.  usin his thumb he pulled my dick down, then watched as it thwacked up against my belly again.  i stood perfectly still, waitin to see if he was gonna do anythin else.  my dick pulsed in the air, so rigid it almost ached.

he scowled.  "maybe you should try a cold shower, kid" he said.  that almost made me laugh.  it was like he knew what i'd done the day before.  i made to step round him so's i could get to the tub, but when i try & do that he takes the opportunity to give me a good hard smack on the ass with the flat of his hand.  i turned round to see what he wanted, & he says "on second thought, skip that cold shower idea.  keep it hard, brat.  maybe we can use it to help you get some actual work done today."

"i'll work!" i tell him.  then, when i turn round to get in the tub again, he grabs me by the back of the neck & smacks me another good hard one on the behind.

"ow!"

"damn right, ow!" he says.  "remember how that felt, faggot.  jesus.  your the biggest fuckin wiseass i ever seen."

i hung my head.  "if you say so, sir" i mumbled.

"are you smartin me, boy?" he barked.  "is that what i hear you doin?"

"no, sir!" i cried.  "no, sir!"

"sir?" he says, like he dont quite know what to make of that – then grabs me by the back of the neck again & smacks me four or five good ones just to make sure i've learned my lesson.  right away i start to tremblin.  pretty soon i'm tremblin so bad i think i'm gonna, i dunno, shoot piss or cum or i dunno what.  but when bern turns to leave i sneek a quick look at him, & i notice how that certain somethin i'd noticed before is stickin out pretty far on him by now – just like i knew it would be.

just like i knew it would be . . .

i fixed bacon & eggs for breakfast again – plus toast, cerial & juice.  i wondered if i might try pancakes sometime, or waffles, & maybe cinammon rolls too.  mmm – cinammon rolls.  those'd be great.  i'd have to ask bern if he'd buy us some.  or maybe i could ask him if i could start doin the shoppin myself.  that'd work out better for both of us, really . . .

"so.  whad'ya got on for today?" he asks me while we're eatin.  i only had one small trimmin job lined up for that mornin – the rest of my time i planned to spend lookin for more customers.  i didnt like tellin bern that tho, so i told him i was gonna do the monroes lawn first, then work at the petersons, even tho neither of them was really on my schedule til next week.

at 5 minutes to 9 i was gettin my shoes on.  the dishes was all cleared away & stacked neatly in the sink.  i'd cleaned the kitchen up too, best as i could in the time i had.  bern was still sittin at the table, givin me the eye.  it was like he didnt quite know whether to believe what he was seein or not.

"well, aint you just the perfect little angel this mornin" he says sarcastically.  "guess you finally figured a few things out, huh, faggot?"

"now, bern" i teased, "you know i aint no faggot."

"what the fuck d'you mean you aint no –" he starts to say.  i busted out laughin.

"whats so funny!" he bellows, his face turnin three shades of red.  "what the fucks gotten into you today, faggot?  alright then – try laughin at this.  thats one!"

i glanced at the clock.  not much time.  not much time . . .  "umm . . .  look, bern . . ."

"yeah?" he says.  "i'm lookin.  what the hell is it i'm s'posed to be seein?"

but the way he's lookin at me, all pissed off again, kinda makes my stomach jump.  as casually as i could i reached down & pushed my dick into a more comfortable position.

"i . . .  i . . .  oh, listen, bern" i stammered.  "i wanna tell you somethin.  i wanna tell you that . . . that . . ."

"what?  what the fuck you tryin to say, faggot?  spit it out!"

"well . . .  i just wanted to tell you that . . ."  i'd been wonderin all mornin how to explain to him what i'd been thinkin.  he'd kept sayin he wanted me to figure things out.  well, i had.  only now i didnt quite know how to put what i'd figured out into words.  so finally i just blurted it out – sort of.  "look, i just wanna tell you that . . . that you cant beat me, bern."

"beat you!" he snorts.  "who says i beat you, kid?  i mean, i may have a firm hand when it comes to discipline, but –"

"no, thats not what i mean" i said quickly.  this wasnt comin out at all like i'd wanted it to.  "what i mean is that you . . .  you cant drive me away."

"drive you away?" he asks, lookin at me with surprise.  "who said anythin bout wantin to drive you away?  i never said i wanted to –"

"no" i said breathlessly, "i know you never said that.  but what i'm tryin to tell you is that i know that now, bern.  i know you never said that.  i know you never meant that."  how could i explain it to him?  how could i tell him bout what i'd come to understand, not bout me so much as bout him.  bout what he wanted, what he needed . . .  & who he needed it from.  bout how neither of us had to face things alone anymore – if we didnt want to.  "i know you never said that" i said again lamely.  "i know it.  d'you see?  i know it now."

"what d'you know?" he asked, eyein me suspiciously.  "huh, kevyn?  tell me.  what exactly is it you think you know?"

"that you dont really . . . dont really want me to . . . uhh . . ."  how could i say it?  i pushed against my dick & tried again.  "well, what i mean is that i know now that what you want is . . .  what you want is . . ."

he gave me a puzzled look, his eyes dartin from my crotch to my face.  "what the fuck . . ." he muttered.

"what you want is . . ."  but i feel too embarrased to say it.  besides, he must know already.  all i wanted to do was to let him know that i knew now too.  & that it was ok.  it really was ok.

i glanced at the clock again.  "i gotta go" i said.  "but i'll be back by noon sharp, sir.  i promise, sir!  maybe we could . . . talk some more then?"  bern stared at me.  his mouth had fallen open.  "i . . . i promise to be good, sir" i said awkwardly, & knew my face must be turnin beet red with embarassment.  "i promise, sir" i said.  & slowly, givin him just the tiniest little smile, i backed my way out the door.



& just as the clock was hittin noon sharp i was pedellin my way back up the drive.  things'd gone well that mornin.  i'd gotten not just one, not just two, but three more customers lined up, & i now had just about all i'd have time for.  plus i had lunch all planned out in my head.

as i came up the drive i saw bern.  he was gettin out of one of the old cars he'd been workin on the past few days.  he must've just come back from givin it a test drive.

"went down to the grocery store" he told me.  i felt a little rush of disappointment.  i hadnt remembered to tell him bout the cinammon rolls.  oh well.  there was always next time . . .

"its noon sharp, sir!" i said.

"yeah, yeah.  your a real wonder, kid" he said.  "look, why dont you unload these groceries & take them inside the house."

"yes, sir!" i said.

"you never know – this might just be your lucky day.  look hard & maybe you'll find yourself a present in one of those bags."

"a present?" i cried.  "really, sir?  really?"

he snorted.  "well, more like a kinda reward.  for all the good work you been doin lately."

eagerly i took the bags of groceries out of the car.  bern watched me close, a slow grin slidin its way across his face.  inside the kitchen i set the bags down, but i was too excited to put the food away as careful as i should've done.  instead i started rootin through the bags to see what it was bern had bought me.  i didnt see nothin unusual at first tho.  just the regular stuff – cerial & milk & frozen peas & a package of corn & salad fixins was all i saw.  until, that is, i got to the very last bag.  there, tucked way at the bottom, was a large, white plastic bowl.  i picked it up & looked at it closely.  printed on the side, in brightly colored, cartoonish lookin letters, were the words GOOD DOGGY.

thats strange! i thought.  we dont have no dog . . .




~ END ~





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