Date: Sun, 20 Sep 2009 20:17:54 +1000
From: James Gippsland <jamesgippsland@hotmail.com>
Subject: Billy the kid part 4

I said at the beginning that this was a "true story". Did you believe me?
Let me be honest and say, it is MOSTLY a true story. Most of what I have
written did indeed happen, although it is my interpretation as to the
feelings that Billy had. Some additional things have been added, to "spice
up" the story.

Which is why what I am about to write is so painful.

It has been a long time since I last tapped out the keys regarding Billy's
story. That is because I feel betrayed. Stabbed in the back. Broken hearted
would be nearer the mark. As we Aussies say -- gutted.

I was trying to take things very slowly with Billy. I knew he was not
naturally gay, but maybe, just maybe was "curious". If nothing else he was
curious about sex! And naive!! Never worn a condom; never had full sex with
a girl. Never had head. These were the things he told me -- often
blushingly -- as we worked together. I had been almost tempted -- yes I was
VERY tempted! -- to get some condoms and give them to him. Or better still,
demonstrate (on him!) how to put them on! But he would have died of
embarrassment!

Once he swore me to secrecy about the only sex act he'd ever committed. It
was with a girl. They kissed and so forth, and she had wanked him off. He
said that he later regretted it, as she was not the right one for him.

So it had somewhat surprised me that we talked as we did about sex, both
male and female. After I'd dropped a few hints about my sexuality he asked
me questions about what I'd done, and what I'd had done to me. It never
went further than the questions though.

As I looked forward to him officially coming to join the business when he
finished school, I wondered how things would progress. I didn't want to
frighten him off. I wanted to respect him as a person. But yeh, I wanted to
get my hands on him on a regular basis.

The next (and last) holidays for the school year were coming up, and I'd
decided to go to Canberra, to Floriade the month long flower festival. I
booked a room (a double) and made other preparations. I didn't say anything
to Billy, but I did have in my mind the possibility of taking him on this
business trip. A week in a hotel seemed very attractive! Although I thought
he'd probably turn me down because it would mean sharing a bed (although he
might not have found that out until we'd actually arrived!! I wonder how he
[and I!] would have coped with that.

As it was, none of this happened. As you have already guessed, Billy no
longer works for me. I thought things were going ok. We'd planned his new
employment, I'd spent considerable money and time getting things
sorted. One Saturday he came to work for me as usual. At the end of the
afternoon, "See ya next week, if I don't talk to you online during the
week" he said. Which in fact we did, on the Wednesday evening.

I came home from work the following Friday to find a message on the answer
machine. Billy wouldn't be working for me any more -- he'd decided to go
and work for a close family friend. Bullshit. Such a sudden change? He was
running. I'd frightened him off. The next couple of days I messaged him --
there was the matter of some gardening books I'd lent him, as well as me
returning some things he'd left in my van for example ear protectors. I
never heard back from him. The books were returned in to the mail box. I'd
left the ear protectors in the work shop and they disappeared from there.

No communication. Hurting. Broken heart. Raw. Angry with him. Angry more
with myself.

Every time I go to a job that we worked on together I think of him. See him
digging or pruning or carrying ridiculously large piles of rubbish to the
truck to be carted away. I think of the fun we had. The laughs we shared.

I'll get over this, for sure. But it'll take time. That's why it's taken me
so long to finish this story. I'm trying not to be bitter. But I don't
always succeed.

Funny thing happened the other week. Shane texted me. Shane is the guy I
had working in my garden before Billy. Another eighteen year old. I taught
him to drive; he worked for me during the school holidays. Same
pattern. Not the same result. Sure we chatted about sex, but he was
definitely straight. Once I made a move on him, stroked his naked chest. As
my fingers travelled a little lower he said, "Nah sorry mate," and that was
it. But we somehow remained friends. He became too busy of a Saturday to
work for me -- tennis, cricket, you know how it is with sport commitments.

Two weeks back -- just out of the blue, he texted me. How was the business
going, hoped all was well. I replied. He'd come round. Never
happened. Another text from him. He'd come round. Never happened! Last
week, another text. And then, coincidently, I saw him in the street. Now
twenty nearly twenty one, dirty blond hair, slight build, and a cracker of
a smile, wearing a "bluey" (singlet) and shorts.  We chatted. Apologised
that he didn't turned up previously. He'd been busy with footie
finals. He's coming round to "catch up" this week. Really. That's what he
says. He's taking the initiative. I'm almost certainly wrong -- but I get
the feeling he wants something. Maybe his old job back!!!

I doubt anything at all will happen. But you can guarantee one thing. I'll
make a move on him, in some shape or form. I'll let him know what I want,
and see whether he'll play ball. No more Mr Nice Guy with me. IF -- and
it's a big if -- if he wanted to come back to work for me, there'd be
conditions. And access to his body would be part of the job description.

I've gotta get over Billy somehow.



Any feedback to jamesgippsland@hotmail.com

Thanks for reading. And you'll find one or two other stories around the
place if you look hard enough! Cheers