Date: Wed, 20 May 2009 19:33:57 -0700
From: Data Fever <data2fever@gmail.com>
Subject: Jase Part 2

     As I awoke, my first thoughts were of the fantasy that I had gone
to sleep with. I imagined Mr. Johnson's hands rubbing my back and legs
and bare buttocks.

     "Hey Jason, are you ready to get up yet?"

     Mr. Johnson's voice startled me out of my reverie. I rolled over and
lifted up my head. "Yeah."

     "Okay. If you want, you've got time for a quick shower while I make
breakfast."

     I just nodded as I watched Mr. Johnson leave for the kitchen. I was
confused. Why would Mr. Johnson suggest that I might want to take a
shower? After all, we were going to be working up a sweat anyway.

     As I pulled the sheet off of my body, my confusion increased. First
I noticed that I wasn't wearing any underwear. What in the world? What
happened to my underwear? I didn't remember taking them off.

     Then I noticed the residue which indicated that I had had a wet
dream. My chest and abdomen contained clear signs that I had sprayed
myself with sperm. That also bewildered me as I reasoned that if I had
been covered with a bedsheet, there was no way for my sperm to reach my
chest. And if this was what Mr. Johnson was referring to, how did he
know?

     My mind was a tumble of turmoil and confusion as I jumped into the
shower. Was I just dreaming last night or did it really happen? Did Mr.
Johnson actually masturbate me? But I didn't remember him taking off my
underwear. I asked myself the same questions over and over but no clear
answers came to me.

     Breakfast consisted of scrambled eggs, sausage, and a large glass of
orange juice. One thing I had to admit was that Mr. Johnson could cook
as well as my mom. And they were both better than the school cooks.

     As opportunity arose during the day, I asked Mr. Johnson questions.
I did not want to come right out and ask him direct, but I wanted to know
how he felt about me. I wanted to know if he loved me as much as I loved
him. I wanted to know why I didn't have any underwear on when I woke up.

     At one point I asked, "Do you like me?" (meaning "Do you love me?")

     Mr. Johnson's response was much too ambiguous for me. "Of course I
like you, Jason. I think that almost everyone in town probably likes
you."

     Another time I asked, "Don't you ever get tired of living alone?"
(meaning "Would you like me to live with you?")

     "All the time, Jason. But finding the right person to spend the rest
of my life with is not so easy in a small town like this."

     I even tried being a little blunt. "So what did you do after I fell
asleep last night?" (meaning "Did you really masturbate me?")

     "Oh, I read for a little and then went to bed. That's all."

     For all of my questions, Mr. Johnson's answers never provided me
with any indication that Mr. Johnson felt anything special about me. By
the end of the day, I was convinced that he did not see me as a potential
lover.

     With all of my thinking, however, I did manage to come up with a
likely scenario that accounted for the state I was in when I awoke. The
way I figured it, sometime during the night I had woke up feeling super
horny. I had stripped off my underwear and jacked off. Then, because I
was so exhausted, I had fallen back asleep without covering up. When Mr.
Johnson saw me in the morning, he pulled the sheet over me out of
consideration and had noticed the mess on my chest and stomach. Simple
once I thought about it.

     "Well, Jason, I think we are going to have to call it quits for the
day. I thought we could get this done in two days, but we still have a
few hours of work left to do. Can you stay another night so we can finish
it up tomorrow?"

     I was overjoyed at the prospect of spending another evening with Mr.
Johnson and readily agreed. As Mr. Johnson went into the house, I made
short work of cleaning up all the scraps and covering up the remaining
siding. I looked around and it seemed pretty good.

     I hurried into the house and noticed Mr. Johnson was just turning
off the water in the shower. I quickly took off my jeans and shirt and
grabbed my cut-offs. I was standing neat the bathroom door dressed in
just my underwear when Mr. Johnson opened the door.

     My jaw dropped to the floor when I saw Mr. Johnson standing there
wearing nothing at all, not even a towel around his waist.

     "Oh, Jason. I didn't expect you to get finished outside so quickly."
Mr. Johnson reached back into the bathroom and grabbed a towel, but did
not seem very shy about being seen by me.

     If I had been infatuated with Mr. Johnson before, seeing him nude
only added fuel to the fire. My eyes never left Mr. Johnson's dick the
whole time it was visible. I felt like getting down on my knees and
rubbing it against my face.

     All too quickly (from my point of view, at least), Mr. Johnson
wrapped himself with the towel and motioned to the shower. "All yours,
my boy."

     It was only after I closed the bathroom door and pulled off my
underwear that I became aware of my raging hardon. My face reddened with
embarrassment as I realized that Mr. Johnson must have seen it. But I
mollified myself with the thought that I had seen Mr. Johnson naked, so
that made things even.

     I climbed into the shower and began to wash my hair. With my
thoughts continuing to visualize Mr. Johnson's nudity, my erection did
not soften in the least.

     "Hey, Jason, I brought a towel and a washcloth for you. Is it okay
for me to come in?"

     The shower door was tinted, allowing only a foggy view of the other
side. I quickly thought of a plan. "Yeah, come on in."

     Mr. Johnson opened the door and I could feel a bit of a cool breeze
as a result. I turned so that I was facing the shower door.

     "I've got soap in my eyes. Can you hand me the washcloth please?"

     I opened the shower door with my eyes closed. I made sure to open
the door wider than was necessary to get the washcloth. I held out my
hand. My erection raged as I thought about Mr. Johnson's eyes viewing my
nakedness.

     I kept my eyes tightly closed as I felt the washcloth placed into
my hand. "Thanks, Mr. Johnson. I'll be done here shortly."

     "Take your time, Jason. I haven't even begun to cook dinner yet."

     I closed the shower door as Mr. Johnson left the bathroom. Had Mr.
Johnson seen my boner? Had his remark about taking my time meant he
expected me to jack off in the shower? My mind spun as I contemplated the
many questions that had no answers.

     I finished my shower without doing anything to reduce the sexual
pressure I felt. My dick was still partially erect as I pulled on my
underwear and cut-offs.  I didn't bother putting on a T-shirt.

     While we were eating, I asked Mr. Johnson why he happened to pick
me for this job. I guess I was fishing to see if he picked me specially
or if I was merely a happenstance choice.

     "Well, let me see," he began. "First I discarded all of the farm
kids. I figured they all would have chores and work. Of those of you who
live in town, there's Mike, but he works at his dad's store; Doug, but
he's out of town for the whole summer; John, but he helps with his
father's construction business; that left you, Chuck, and Jeff. I tried
you first because you're the tallest."

     I rolled the names through my head. John, Chuck, and Jeff were all
in my grade. Mike was a year older and Doug was two years older. Yup,
that was about it as far as high school aged town boys was concerned.

     His mention of Jeff caused me to think of the fantasies that I had
about him. I guessed that when I wasn't fantasizing about Mr. Johnson,
Jeff was the person I was most likely to fantasize about. Jeff was the
shortest boy in my class, but he already had a nice tuft of black hair
above his dick.

     I hadn't thought about it before, but when I fantasized about Jeff,
I thought about caressing his skin, playing with his dick, putting it in
my mouth, drinking his sperm; when I fantasized about Mr. Johnson, I
thought about his hands caressing me, his hand wrapped about my boner.

     "Hey, Jason. Are you still with me? Ready to help with the dishes?"

     Mr. Johnson's question knocked me out of my daydreaming. I looked
down at my plate and saw that I had finished my food. Where had the time
gone?

     When Mr. Johnson and I had finished washing the dishes, I went into
the living room and was about to sit on the couch when my thoughts
stopped me. What if Mr. Johnson sits in the armchair?

     Worried about that prospect, I positioned myself in front of the
armchair without sitting down. After Mr. Johnson had seated himself on
the couch, I followed suit. The couch wasn't that big, but there was
still a bit of space between us.

     After a couple of programs, Mr. Johnson brought up the issue of how
my shoulders were feeling. I wasn't about to miss the opportunity, and
soon Mr. Johnson was massaging my shoulders and back. As my muscles
eased, my mind drifted into a state of dreaminess, not quite sleeping,
but not completely awake either.

     I was seated with my back toward Mr. Johnson, and it was only
natural that when Mr. Johnson finished his massage, I let my body sag
backward against Mr. Johnson's chest. Mr. Johnson wrapped him arms
around me and held me tight.

     My mind spun with weariness. I wasn't used to so much physical
labor. I let me head fall back against Mr. Johnson's shoulder. I was only
somewhat aware that Mr. Johnson was holding me in his arms. My mind
drifted off to sleep, engaging in fantasies as it always did.

     In my mind, my world of fantasy, I felt Mr. Johnson's hands caress
my chest and stomach. Then Mr. Johnson unsnapped my cut-offs and pulled
down the zipper. I felt Mr. Johnson hold me tighter as he pushed his
hand under my butt and pushed off both my cut-offs and my underwear
together.

     Then Mr. Johnson proceeded to fondle my balls. Finally he
wrapped his hand around my boner and stroked it up and down. I ejaculated
in an orgasm that splashed against my chest and stomach. And I again sank
into a dreamless sleep.