Date: Sun, 27 Apr 2014 08:59:18 -0500
From: Jake Stone <studbluecollar@gmail.com>
Subject: "Salisbury to San Diego" Part Two, gay/incest

"I figured you would feel that way. I have arranged a bungalow by the beach
in Pacific Beach. I had the estate purchase it so that there would be no
need for a lease or anything. Pacific Beach is where your Father's shop is.
Your Father has not been contacted. In fact, your Father doesn't know that
you were kept by your Mother. As far as he knows you were put up for
adoption the minute you were born. Your Grandparents had meant to raise you
as their own and didn't see a need to inform him. Unfortunately they both
died young and that puts us where we are now. Any questions Anthony?"

"When do I leave?"

Part 2:

You must understand, being in boarding schools since the age of seven, well
it gives you a different perspective on the world. For years I grew up with
discipline and study as well as sport. I never was given a chance to let my
"hair down" as they say.

My grade point average is a 3.9 and I would be graduating with honors. But
none of that mattered now. Nor did it matter that I was a champion
wrestler. I won 90% of my matches and was well respected among the other
athletes. I was in tip top shape for an 18 year old and planned to stay
that way.  I also always "worked" a position in the school for extra
privileges.

I have tons of friends, but no one close. I always kept a distance. I would
rebel only in private. Small things. Like not wearing underwear (which was
mandatory) under my school uniform. I never washed my jock that I wore in
meets for good luck (besides I liked the scent it gave off). I slept naked
at night (another broken rule at the school). I kept my body groomed but
declined to wear deodorants or colognes preferring a more natural masculine
scent. Anyone who noticed just figured it was my intense workouts that
would keep a musky smell about me.

And while most of my friends were enjoying the latest bootlegged copy of
Penthouse or Playboy I would be in the gym working up a nice sweat. Instead
of getting off on the picture of a naked female on a crusty page that had
been passed from boy to boy I would rather fore sake a shower and go to bed
naked and smell myself while I released my sexual tension. Oh I would have
rather it had been one of my team mates that I could enjoy the scent of but
such a reputation would have not done me well and I would have been
shunned. It was best to play the part of a highly masculine athlete with a
sense of mystery about him than to have been made out to be a pervert.
Hence, I have never been attracted to the female form.

My friends knew the history of my family and caulked up my distance and my
being a loner to a missing childhood.

So a physical description is what usually is what is called for at this
point. I am 5'8" and 185 pounds. I have a dusting of hair on my chest as
well as a nice treasure trail on a very flat stomach. My hair is dark
brown. I have a growth of a five o'clock shadow minutes after I have
shaved. My eyes are green, piercing some might say. My hair is "surfer"
length. My body is strong and my biceps pronounced. And I have the
roundest, muscular and largest bubble butt at the school. As for my other
attributes, well, as I have not measured, all I can do is remind you I am
of Italian descent.

So enough about that. My mission was to go to San Diego and seek out my
Father. If he would have me. Mr. Stanton and the driver took me to
LaGuardia two weeks after I arrived in New York from school. I had two suit
cases of cloths and a carry on with some shorts and athletic type clothing
and not much else besides some cash and the name of the bank that had money
for me in San Diego.

As the Town Car pulled away from the curb and I was left totally on my own
for the first time in my life I felt a great weight being lifted off my
shoulders. Oh yes I would complete my mission in seeking out my Father and
trying to have a relationship with him but I would also, for the first
time, live life under my terms. I knew I would fulfill the terms of my
Mother's will and I would be set for the rest of my life. But I also knew I
would never aspire to live the way she and her husband lived. I sought a
more simple life.

My two suit cases were filled with expensive suits, slacks, linen shirts
and school uniforms. So I ripped the address tags off the luggage and left
them right where they were. Hopefully they would go to someone who really
needed them.

I got to the counter and the agent asked if I had anything besides my carry
on. I replied, "No I do not". And that was that. When one travels to
Rome....or whatever that old saying is.
Off to San Diego...

The plane trip took almost six hours. When I arrived in San Diego there was
a rental car waiting for me at the Hertz counter. I was to drive to the
real estate office and collect the keys to the bungalow and obtain the
directions as well.
When I got to the office I was met by an older woman named Barbra. She had
my keys and thought since I had never been there before she would have me
follow her over. I thought that was a great idea. She said it wasn't too
far and that I would be two blocks from the beach.

The house was on Vanitie. A small two bedroom one bath. Real small. But it
was bigger than anything I had in school. And the houses were very close
together. But at least I had a garage. Not much of a driveway though.

The ocean was two blocks to my east or a block and a half to my west. It
was pretty cool. The house was unfurnished and I would have to do that on
my own. Barbra had a list of stores and their addresses for me and I needed
to get that done on the double. Then after that I needed to buy a used car
so I could turn in the rental car. Even though the estate was picking up
the tab on everything I didn't want to waste money on the rental.

It was already 4pm by the time Barbra left me alone at the house. She said
I had plenty of time to go to the furniture stores and get what I needed
set up for delivery. Then I would go up to one of the motels for a couple
nights and sleep in a bed.

By 8pm I had ordered a bedroom set, a living room set and pot and pans and
dishes. Anything else I needed I would go out and buy as necessary. I
settled in the motel I found for the night and I was exhausted. I went
right to sleep.

When I woke the next morning it took me a minute to realize where I was.
Lots of noise from the traffic outside. I looked down at my naked frame,
morning hard on pushing up the sheet, and decided I needed to relax for a
bit. I had my face buried in my pit of my left arm as my right hand took
care of business. It was a nice cool morning and I didn't provide enough
sweat for my liking but I was able to have a happy ending.

I jumped up and hit the shower. Washed my hair and rinsed off my cum. I
threw on a pair of shorts and a tank top and headed for the door. After I
secured a cup of coffee it was on to my next mission. To find my fathers
garage.

All I knew was the address on Grand Ave. Which wasn't too far from the
house that the estate bought for me. So I stopped at a Denny's and had my
coffee and a Grand Slam breakfast. Then I continued on.

When I got to the address it was about 10 in the morning. I parked across
the street so I could observe the place. It looked to have an office with
an entry up front as well as three garage bays. Small parking lot that was
full with only two spaces free. The garage doors on the bays were all open
and I could see a couple of guys working. They both wore coveralls with a
zipper down the front. Both blue and both dirty with grease. Both guys
looked to be in their thirties. One a dirty blond and the other dark
haired. If one of these guys was my father I would suspect it was the dark
haired guy.

Both men were good looking to say the least. Both carried themselves well
and were well built. Either one of them would make me proud to be their
son.
Now I needed a plan to find out what I could. I looked over at the sign in
the front. It said, " Marino's Auto Shop" with hours posted "Monday -
Friday 7:00 am - 5:00 pm".

So I thought about it. I would come back at 5pm and see what the dark
haired guy is up to. I can't imagine the guy with the last name of Marino
has blond hair, especially since the dark hair guy has the same hair and
the same five o'clock shadow I do.

So I went to the house and did a little cleaning. Then I walked to the
beach for a while just to check it out.

About 4:30 pm I headed back to the house and locked up and took the car
back to the shop.  I parked across the street like I had before. The
parking lot of the shop was emptier now. I saw the blond guy that was
working in the shop earlier getting into an old Volkswagen Bug and taking
off. I looked at my watch, it was 4:55.

Then I saw the garage doors being pulled down one by one by the dark haired
guy. I noticed that his zipper of his overalls was pulled down past his
navel and that he had no shirt on underneath. It was pretty hot. Some chest
hair like me and very well built. He had a cigarette hanging out of his
mouth.

I waited a little after the door were all closed and then noticed he came
out the office door and stopped a minute to lock up. He then started
walking to a blue and white two town Chevy pick up. It was a few years
older model. But looked pretty decent shape.

This whole time I was deciding how I was going to approach this all. Should
I just get up and go meet him now or should I wait a few days. Was that
really Joseph Marino? Considering he was the last one out and locked up the
place I was willing to bet it was.

Too late, he got in his truck and started to leave. So I decided to follow
him a little ways to see where he goes. He headed down Ingraham St. across
a bridge and then over an island turning to Sunset Cliffs Blvd. Followed
that to Del Mar Ave. where we took a right. He pulled into a driveway at
the corner of Del Mar and Cable St. Looked like a nice house. Had a garage.
Not many houses do around here. Looked about as old as my place but he had
a small yard which I didn't in the front.

As I kept going past he got out of his truck and headed inside. I headed
back for the hotel. When I got to my room I thought of something I didn't
before. I looked him up in the phone book. "J. Marino, 4901 Del Mar, Ocean
Beach 619-522-2223".

Well I know that's him now. What to do about it now.....

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