Date: Fri, 12 Feb 1999 16:50:34 -0500
From: Marc Mustacchio <marc@interactive.net>
Subject: JOCKEY HOLLOW IV: EPISODE LXIV

JOCKEY HOLLOW

EPISODE LXIV

 Cooper sat opposite Jack inhaling his cigarette smoke and coughing a
little. He drank his coffee and said:
 "Cruising has changed since I was in college."
 "Yes it has."
 "Augie told that there was a guy who was in a bathroom stall more
interested in watching what was going on in the next stall rather than
have his own cock sucked by Augie. Watching through a peep hole."
 "Watching is safe," Jack said. "Watching is jerk-off material. It's
like watching a live video. No, cruising was at its high point in the
1970s. Did I ever tell you I taught at a small college in Oregon?"
 "No."
 "I did. I taught Medieval History, very exciting." He smiled. "There
was this student of mine in the Fall of 1975. His name was Russell
Radcliff. Rusty, we called him. Rusty was 20 at the time. He was gay and
heavily sexually active, who wasn't in those days? There was this old
building on campus, Hutch Hall. It burned down in the late 60s and the
college never demolished it. this served as a primary cruising spot. Now
Rusty was a dormer. He would spend hours there at night. Hutch Hall
between 10p and dawn was his stomping ground. Like Augie, his reputation
preceded. Virtually everyone knew what he was doing. He always wore the
same thing, a white crew neck T-shirt, a pair of jeans, and penny
loafers without socks. He would get undressed in one the old classrooms
and wait. Guys usually knew or heard from the grapevine where he was.
 "On the night of November 2, 1975, Rusty learned the college had slated
the building to be demolished the next day. He wanted to stage one last
farewell homage to Hutch Hall. Well, he was joined by a fraternity
order, Alpha Beta Kappa. He was lynched that night. He was beaten to a
pulp and hanged from the rafters by the fraternity brothers. They're all
a bunch of homophobic closet cased Nazis anyway. Rusty was murdered, but
to add insult to injury, no inspection of the building was done the next
morning when the wrecking ball came through. His decapitated head was
found a week later by the clean up crew."
 "That's horrible," Cooper said.
 "I know. Rusty was a good kid. One of the few I admired."
 Jack put out his cigarette and swallowed his last bit of coffee. He
stood up. "See you tomorrow," he said.
 "Okay," Cooper said cleaning up the dirty cups and ashtray. It was 1
a.m. and he had a long five hour stretch ahead of him. The story left a
bad impression on Cooper's mind. Poor Rusty. He would have been 43 now.
He went behind the counter and opened the gay magazine he had there and
started to look at the pictures.

...

 Bryan was still awake. He was forever online. Now it was 1 a.m. and he
was chatting with several people on AOL. Yoli was working and he was
alone. Maybe he could get one of these studs to come over and fuck him.
But it didn't look as if that were in the cards. His doorbell rang and
he jumped, startled. He slipped on a pair of boxers and went to the
door.
 Peering through the peep hole he saw the face of Kenny Westmoreland.
What the fuck did he want. He opened the door.
 "Hi, you're Bryan?"
 "Yes. I'm FBI Agent Kenny Westmoreland, may I come in?"
 Bryan didn't say a word, he stepped aside and Kenny entered.
 "This is kind of late, don't you think?" Bryan said.
 "Were you sleeping?"
 "No, but it still isn't proper."
 "If I came here to fuck you would that be proper then?"
 "What can I do for you Agent Westmoreland?"
 "Sex with minors. Luring minors to out of the way places for sex via
the computer. Are you aware of such practices?"
 "Yes, of course. My neighbor was arrested for that. I believe he was
set up."
 "By whom?"
 "You."
 Kenny looked at Bryan, he had forgotten why he had come here at one in
the morning and was starting to regret it. Bryan was not the dumb blond
he had pegged him to be. He was not stupid and was very much on the
ball.
 "Why are you here," Bryan asked.
 "Do you use your computer for getting sex?"
 "Yes, don't you ... Scott?"
 "Scott, who's that?"
 "Don't try it. You came here trying to get me to admit to something I'm
not going to admit to. Scott was here. He was trying to seduce me, but I
backed out. He was not that good either, AND I even doubt he was a
minor."
 "You're out of line."
 "Why are you here, Kenny? Were you lonely and thought I'd suck your
cock or let you fuck me?"
 Bryan suddenly was not so shy. Bryan lowered his boxers and turned
around to show Kenny his ass. Kenny knew he was in way over his head
now; if he fucked Bryan he would never be able to arrest him for
anything. Bryan would say the FBI Agent fucked him and the case would be
thrown out. Bryan knew that too. It was one of the hazards of being a
gay Agent. The threat of blackmail would undermine any investigations.
 Bryan spread his ass cheeks and bent over, tempting Kenny to fuck him.
Kenny was horny, his cock was starting to get hard, but he knew Bryan
was going to get caught for something and wanted him as a collar, not as
an easy fuck.
 "No thank you," Kenny said. "Just watch your ass. Make sure only people
OVER the age of 18 stick their cocks inside of it."
 "I'll be sure and ask for ID," Bryan said.
 Kenny left, feeling defeated. Bryan was a pro and he just wasted his
time finding that out.

...

 Three a.m. Cooper was bored, only one person came in since Jack and it
was a girl buying cigarettes. What the fuck was he going to do with a
girl? Can't flirt with her, she had no cock to suck. He put on a fresh
pot of coffee, when he saw a car pull in and park. A kid in his early
twenties entered wearing cuffed jeans, a T-shirt, penny loafers and no
socks.
 "Can I use your phone?" the guy said.
 "On the wall. I'm making fresh coffee, want some?"
 "Sure man!"
 He went to the phone, Cooper's eyes followed. This guy was not leaving
until he had his cock sucked, that was for sure.
 "Yes operator I'd like to make a collect call to New York City,
212-555-0666, Beverly Radcliff -- from her son, Rusty."
 Cooper's ears perked up. Rusty Radcliff!? How was that possible?
 "Nobody at home?--It's three in the morning, how is that? Yes, please
call me back here if you get a response."
 Rusty walked to the counter with Cooper's eyes on him. His clothing was
just how Jack had described.
 "Got a problem, dude?"
 "Here's your coffee."
 "Thanks."
 "What did you say your name was?"
 "Rusty. Rusty Radcliff."
 He held out his hand. Cooper reluctantly took it.


 STAY TUNED FOR EPISODE LXV, POSTED IN TWO WEEKS, FRIDAY FEBRUARY 26,
1999. MY RECENT SCHEDULE CHANGE HAS ME BUSY AND ONLY ABLE TO POST EVERY
OTHER WEEK. YOU CAN FIND THESE EPISODES ON THE NIFTY ARCHIVE:
http://www.nifty.org/