Billy Ray

The first story I submitted to Literotica only drew comments from about 5% of readers; therefore, I am requesting that if you do read this story, please consider leaving a comment, no matter how brief. I only began writing fiction again about six years ago and can use all the constructive criticism I can get.

Thanks, the author

Colby kept shuttling back and forth between the adult pool and the kiddie pool, careful to keep a watchful eye on both as throngs of people kept filtering in and out of the city's central swim center. In this his final summer as chief lifeguard at the center, he was amazed at the number of people coming through and more convinced than ever that this year's crowds were the biggest he'd seen in his three years of working here. Of course the kiddie pool had always been a popular attraction for the kindergarten set who seemed to have a natural love of water and for their parents who were forever on the lookout for ways to entertain their little ones over the long summer months. But the much larger and deeper adult pool was suddenly proving to be very popular as well. Colby chalked it up to a heat wave that was driving records numbers of teenagers to the area's water attractions. Colby didn't mind the hectic activity so much because it kept the eager beaver young assistants that the parks department had assigned to him busy and out of his hair.

Tessa and Jim had been recruited from the swim teams at local high schools, just as Colby had been, and while their water skills were good, their people skills were poor to nonexistent which meant that any significant interaction with the public generally sent them scurrying to find Colby. Lucky for him Colby had trained junior lifeguards before, and knew how to channel their energies before they overwhelmed him with endless questions. He had put these two in charge of swimming lessons and also assigned them the task of periodically checking the locker rooms.

Despite the occasional headaches of the job, Colby had truly enjoyed the summers he'd spent here and knew he was going to miss the place once he moved on to college in the fall. But then again he wasn't going to miss it too much. He had already been accepted into the creative writing program at State University and was looking forward to trying out for their nationally-ranked swim team. He would be joining his older brother Scott who was about to begin his third year at State. Colby looked up to his brother like no one else.

Just then Colby's reverie was disrupted when Tessa and Jim came running up to him.

"Oh, wow," said Jim, a little breathless. "You should see what's going on outside the gates."

"What?" asked Colby.

"Three black guys, drinking, smoking, playing rap music real loud," said Tessa, just as excited as Jim.

"Where?" said Colby.

"Outside. Over there . . . by the picnic tables," responded the trainees simultaneously, indicating an area just beyond the main entrance gates. As Colby made his way over to the area, he could see that the trainees had not been exaggerating. Three young guys were perched on one of the picnic tables adjacent to the swim center, laughing and talking, drinking beer, and playing a boom box so loudly that patrons throughout the swim center could hear it. And sure enough, one of them was taking furtive tokes on what looked like a marijuana joint.

Colby shook his head and sighed. City rules strictly forbade drinking, smoking and loud parties in the parks. Generally speaking, lifeguards were not responsible for activities that went on outside the swim centers; however, as city employees, they were obligated to say something or report an obvious infraction taking place on city property if they saw one. Normally this wouldn't be such a big deal, but in this case, it might be. These three guys weren't just black, they were tough, street savvy, and showing lots of attitude. Colby did not relish the idea of telling them they needed to take their party elsewhere.

As he approached the trio, Colby thought he recognized one of them, the oldest one, the one with the joint. If he wasn't mistaken, it was a guy who used to be one of his brother Scott's best friends. His name was Billy Ray Johnson, and he played on the same state district champion football team that Scott once did. In fact, Scott and Billy Ray had been the two standouts on the team, playing quarterback and principal wide receiver respectively. And like Scott, Billy Ray received a full scholarship to State to play ball at the college level. Some people even thought that of the two of them, Billy Ray had the greatest potential to move on to the pros, but, alas, it was not to be. Only weeks before he was to report to campus, Billy Ray was arrested for drug possession, and eventually sent to prison for a couple of years. Everyone talked about how tragic it was that a young man with such a promising future had seen it all snuffed out by such a stupid mistake. Colby had met Billy Ray through his brother, but had come to like him an awful lot. He took the news of Billy Ray's arrest especially hard. Lots of kids dabbled in drugs, he knew. And it seemed to him somehow bitterly unfair that Billy Ray had been made to pay such a high price for doing something that many others also did.

It also occurred to Colby that hanging out with a bad crowd, drinking in public, and smoking marijuana were probably also not on the list of things someone should be doing if he was on parole. He knew he would have to handle this situation carefully.

"Hey, look who it is!" exclaimed Billy Ray who recognized Colby even before the young lifeguard had a chance to greet him. "It's Scott Thorsen's little bro, the swimmer boy. How the hell you been, little brother?'

"Can't complain," said Colby, thoroughly relieved to see the big smile of recognition on Billy Ray's face. As he exchanged a quick fist bump of greeting with his brother's former friend, Colby let go of any apprehension that this might turn into a confrontation.

"And how's the big man himself?" asked Billy Ray. "How's good ole Scott?"

"Good," said Colby, "at least he was the last time I saw him. He's all wrapped up in college stuff and we don't see much of him."

"Yeah, I bet he is. He's at State—right? Y'know, I was supposed to go there."

"Yeah, I remember. Actually, I'm set to got there myself in the fall. But I'm not like you and Scott. They don't hand out too many scholarships to lowly swimmers."

"Well, it's not like I got to use mine," said Billy Ray ruefully. "You're lucky. You still get to go. Me, I'll never see the inside of a college."

"So who's he?" said one of the younger guys.

"I told you: Scott's little brother. Don't you remember Scott?" said Billy Ray to the guy. "Tall, good-looking white dude from high school. He was the q.b. on the team back when I was wide receiver. We used to be real tight. Say, little brother," said Billy Ray turning back to me. "I'm blanking on your name. What was it again?'

"Colby."

"Fuck, that's right. How could I forget? Anyway, Colby, this here is my little bro Jamal."

"Hey, man," said Jamal, taking another swig of beer. "Yeah, and over here is my blood, Tryon. We mostly just call him Try."

"Hey," said Colby.

Jamal gave a little laugh. "I sure am glad to see you're cool, man. When I first saw you coming this way with that lifeguard tank on, I thought for damn sure we were in for some kinda trouble. Glad that's settled. Hey, dude, you want a beer?"

"Straighten up, Jamal," admonished Billy Ray who suddenly leaned over and gave his little brother a slap against the back of his head.

"What the fuck!" yelped Jamal.

"Can't you see the little dude is on duty? He can't be seen drinkin' on the job, not unless he's looking to get his ass canned."

Billy Ray abruptly turned to Colby and leaned his way as if talking to him in confidence. "On the other hand if you wanted to take a little break, we could go over to my car and you could have one there or maybe even take a little hit. Nobody has to know."

Colby couldn't help but blanch a little at Billy Ray's offer. "Um, thanks, but you were right the first time. And actually, Jamal was right, too. Being a lifeguard means I have to enforce the rules around here."

"Wait a minute," said Billy Ray tossing the joint into a nearby trash barrel. "Are you saying you really did come over here to kick us out of the damned park?"

"Well, no, I wouldn't put it that way," said Colby, suddenly feeling the heat of all their eyes on him. "But guys, you are gonna have to tone it down a little. And put the beer away. And, um, y'know, the marijuana, too."

"Oh, hell, no!" yelped Jamal in protest. "I knew it. I was fuckin' right about you. Instead of that damned yellow tank top with 'Lifeguard' on it, they oughta just issue you a gun and a badge."

"Shut up, Jamal," growled a very irritated Billy Ray. When the young man got to his feet, Colby took an involuntary step back. Jamal and Try continued to grumble, but Billy Ray was quiet, mulling the situation. Finally, he spoke.

"Settle down, you two. Little man Thorsen is just doing his job."

"Why the fuck you wanna defend him?" asked Try bitterly.

"Because it's a shit job but somebody's gotta do it." Billy Ray cut his eyes to Colby. "Ain't that right, little dude?"

"Yeah, sure," said Colby trying hard to push the uneasiness out of his voice. "Nothing personal, guys. If it was up to me, you could party here as much as you like. But it's the rules."

"Good enough for me," declared Billy Ray, his dark eyes fixed squarely on Colby. "Colby here is like his brother: he's a standup dude. Those Thorsen boys would never mess you over. I should know. Let's pack it up: time to go."

Colby was relieved to watch the three walked away, glad there had been no major trouble. Now he felt almost silly having anticipated a confrontation. As he watched them leave he began to feel something else, something more akin to disappointment. His eyes stayed on Billy Ray. Just seeing him again after these two years had stirred a deeper well of emotion than Colby expected. Billy Ray looked older and rougher around the edges, but Colby had to admit, he still looked really good. Finally he shook himself out of his reverie and headed back to the swim center. He had almost forgotten that Tessa and Jim were watching until he walked through the gates of the swim center and saw their fresh faces beaming at him.

"Wow, that was great the way you handled that," gushed Tessa, quite impressed.

"I'll say," said Jim with equal ardor. "Jeez, you were so cool. I could never do that."

Colby gave them a skeptical look. "You guys don't even know what I did. I'm pretty sure if you could hear anything that happened from over here."

"Doesn't matter," said Jim unfazed. "The way you just walked up to those tough guys and told them to get lost. I swear I could never do that."

"I didn't tell them to get lost," said Colby.

"Well, whatever you said, it sure did the trick," said Tessa. "I'll never be able to do that."

"You can and you will," Colby insisted. "Y'know, I used to sound exactly like you when I started out: so certain I could never stand up to anybody. But hang around this job long enough and you'll be doing stuff like that and more. You'll see."

Despite his protestations to the contrary, Colby was quite flattered by the praise being heaped on him by the trainees. He wondered if this was how his brother must have felt years ago when young Colby would follow him around, imitating him, doing the same things he did, even going so far as to select the same college he did. For the rest of the day, Colby basked in the glow of admiration coming from the junior lifeguards, and for once, he didn't go out of his way to avoid them. At the end of the day, he even let them go home early, dismissing them from doing a final walk through of the locker rooms and saying he would take care if that chore himself. Since it was his responsibility to close up the locker rooms and padlock them at the end of the day, it added little to his day to go through them, inspect the showers, and collect any spare items of clothing or towels left behind. Now and again as Colby went about his duties, his mind would wander back to Billy Ray. Sometimes he would wonder how Billy Ray was occupying himself now that he was out of prison. At other times he would think back to those days when Scott and Billy Ray were close friends and running buddies, always going places and doing things together. And once or twice Colby would allow himself to recall how really beautiful Billy Ray was back then, but the young lifeguard was quick to banish such thoughts from his mind. He did not like to think back to the crush he once carried for Billy Ray.

In the women's locker room he found three towels, one bathing suit, a plastic bracelet, and two pairs of flip-flops scattered about, all-in-all a pretty average day. He tossed the stuff into a plastic crate for the maintenance crew to disposed of later, then pulled the metal gates together and locked them. He crossed to the men's side, hopeful it would be similarly clear, but the minute he entered the wide concrete breezeway, he knew something was off, not quite right. When he rounded the cinderblock wall that sectioned off the dressing and shower area, he saw what it was. Straddling one of the long wooden benches next to a row of lockers was Billy Ray, looking as if he was waiting for him.

"Hey there, little brother Thorsen. Come on in and join the party."

From the sound of his voice Colby speculated that Billy Ray was more than a little drunk, and probably a little high too. He approached the young man cautiously, glancing around to see if Billy Ray's companions from earlier were lurking about somewhere. But they were nowhere to be seen.

"Billy Ray, dude: What are you doing here? The pool's closed."

Billy Ray flashed a grin and took a sip from a bottle of beer he was holding. Colby noticed that he had a six-pack of beer on the floor next to him, though a closer look revealed only three of the bottles were left in the pack.

"And incidentally," added Colby, "you're not supposed to bring glass bottles in here. They could break."

Billy Ray shrugged. "You're just full of rules, aren't ya, kid? I bet they just love you around here. All these concrete walls and metal gates: You'd be surprised how much this place looks like a prison. That's what a prison is, y'know: walls and rules."

An uneasy moment passed between them before Billy Ray spoke up again. "Look, I think you and me got off on the wrong foot earlier. After we go way back to the time when ol' Scott and me were practically blood brothers—remember that? Those were good times, good memories, and it would be a shame to let a misunderstanding get in the way of that, if you know what I mean."

"I'm not sure I do," said Colby.

"Well, you probably don't realize it, but you came off a little rude earlier. I mean, I get it—you had a job to do, but it seemed to me, to all of us really, that you didn't have to be so coldblooded about it."

"I didn't mean it that way," said Colby.

"That's exactly what I told them," said Billy Ray, smiling and taking another sip of beer. "You were always a quiet kid, but I still remember you real well. You had something about you, something special. That's why I got the idea that I should come back around later, after all the people have cleared out, y'know, when you're off duty, and then you and me can have a nice friendly beer together. How's that grab you?" He reached down into his six-pack and pulled out an unopened bottle and offered it to Colby.

"Uh, sorry, Billy Ray . . . I don't drink."

"Well, hell, boy, you're headed for college. You're gonna have to get over that."

Billy Ray pulled an opener out of a brown paper bag next to the six-pack, opened the beer and handed it to Colby who took it reluctantly. He stared at it as if he wasn't certain what he should do with it.

"Somethin' tells me college is gonna do you a lot of good," said Billy Ray studying the boy. "So you're going to State, along with my old bud Scott. Y'know, seeing you really brings back the memories. You may be shy, but Scott never was. Whenever he saw something he wanted, he just took it. It was part of what made him so good on the football field. He treated that like he treated everything else. He went out there, saw what he wanted, and he just took it, no questions asked. That boy just blasted through the competition like it wasn't there. There's not a lot of people I've admired, if you know what I mean. But your brother was one of them."

"You two were like best friends. What happened there?"

"Maybe you should tell me, little Thorsen. The day after I was arrested I tried to call Scott, just to talk, y'know? He wouldn't talk to me, wouldn't see me, wouldn't give me the time of day. Talk about coldblooded, that was your brother."

Colby winced. "I don't believe that."

"Oops," said Billy Ray, taking another swig of beer. "Did I hit a nerve there, little brother?"

"No," said Colby with more than a hint of irritation in his voice. "Look, Billy Ray, it's getting late and it's way past time for this place to close. Maybe you should finish up your beer and go."

Billy Ray smiled ruefully and took a leisurely sip of his beer. "Now that doesn't sound very friendly, Colby—not very friendly at all. I made a special trip over here just to see you, boy—even bought along some beer. You should be careful, or you're gonna start sounding just like your big brother, and I know you wouldn't want to do that. Hey, do you know what I really feel like doing: taking a nice relaxing dip in that big beautiful pool out there. Man, it would be a gas to jump in that thing and have it all to myself."

"You can't go swimming in the pool," Colby protested. "You don't have trunks or a towel or anything."

"Towel's no problem," grinned Billy Ray, walking over toward a row of lockers near the shower. "Somebody conveniently left a nice big one hanging out of a locker."

Billy Ray retrieved the towel and returned to the bench. Much to the consternation of Colby, he quickly began shedding his clothes, stripping off his shirt, jeans and shoes, leaving only a pair of blue and gray boxers.

"You're right about the swimmin' trunks," said Billy Ray. "I could sure use a pair. Don't they keep spare stuff like that around here somewhere?"

"The vendors have some for sale," said Colby looking none too displeased as Billy Ray considered the problem. "But unfortunately, that stuff is locked up in the office after hours. And I don't have a key."

"No prob," said Billy Ray, flashing a mischievous smile before hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and quickly shucking them. "It's a hell of a lot more fun doing it in the buff anyway."

Billy Ray gave Colby a wink and headed off in the direction of the pool. Colby could barely contain himself. Sure he was frustrated and even a little furious at Billy Ray for strolling into his world like this and turning it upside down. But far more than that, he was horrified at himself for the deep well of desire suddenly surging in him at the very sight of the tall, dark, lean young man casually walking away in all his naked glory. Colby's guilty secret was that this was not a new feeling. Going all the way back to those heady days three years ago when Billy Ray and Scott were the best of friends, and all but inseparable as the twin stars of their high school team, young Colby had nursed a secret lust for his brother's pal that sometimes came close to driving him crazy. In the end, it had even come as something of a relief to Colby when the two graduated, just so the young swimmer would not have to see Billy Ray hanging around his house so often. The news of Billy Ray's arrest later that summer came as a profound shock to Colby who hung his head and cried at the thought that something so awful could happen to someone so beautiful.