Joe Tom Ch. 02

"Why don't you have Mary call Sister Knowles and let us confront her about her lies and her sexual assault on Brother Joe Tom?"

"Save you piety for chapel, Mr. Taylor. I'm the Dean of Students, not you, and I'll handle this delicate matter in the appropriate manner. Do I make myself clear?" Suddenly Dean Wilson was back on his self righteous soapbox.

"Oh, I see," said Joe Tom. "It's okay to call Taylor and me in here and chew us out with your secretary out there in her office listening to every word but you wouldn't want to do that to a fellow minister's daughter. I'm sorry, sir. You've got two people's word against one. A judge wouldn't hear your case in any court of law in the land."

"What Dean Wilson is trying to tell you, Joe Tom," I said mockingly, "is that Rebel Ho is the daughter of a minister of a large Baptist church in Savannah, a church that takes up a collection every service to send money to this college. The dean's not as much worried about our honor as he is about possibly losing the cash flow from Savannah churches."

The dean looked a little sick. "Please call Miss Knowles by her given name, Taylor. Using that vulgar nickname you have for her is grounds for me to write you up for improper language in my office."

"Let me make it clear to you, Dean," I said. "if you need further witnesses about Sister Knowles's character – or the lack thereof – all I have to do is walk across to Lecky's Pizzeria and have the entire staff testify. The staff at Lecky's gave her the moniker Rebel Ho, not me, and it was because of how she's always pawing the waiters over there. They don't complain because she's a big tipper. A BIG tipper."

Joe Tom started giggling.

"I'm sure the cook over there would enjoy describing how she moans and screams when he's screwing her. He's described it to us in the restaurant often enough." I cleared my throat loudly. "Sorry, sir, I mean engaging in intercourse with her. I should warn you up front to be prepared for a shock, though, if you want to interview the cook DeShawnte. He's a big black guy with a HUGE, uh, penis. He says she prefers black guys over white guys which may account for why you haven't had complaints about her sexual escapades before. I don't know if I've ever seen any black students at your institution here or for that matter, any black workers."

Dean Wilson looked like a man who's opened his cabin door in the woods to discover a monstrous hungry grizzly bear coming in for him.

"Gentlemen, I'm going to ask you in the interest of all that's decent to keep this interview between us. I'm going to have to proceed cautiously." He stood up to dismiss us.

I couldn't resist a final jab at his ego. "Well, if you'd like it to be confidential, sir, you should've closed your office door. Instead of embarrassing Aronoff and me you unleashed a whirlwind. You've got people waiting in your outer office along with your secretary Mary who heard every word. And she's a bigger gossip than Sherry Powell. The whole campus will know in a couple of hours."

Joe Tom and I stood up to leave.

"Oh, don't forget, sir, Joe Tom and I need excuses from you to get back into class and to be issued any makeup work required."

Joe Tom and I took our official passes and headed out before the dean could think of something else to complain about.

"I don't know about you, buddy," I said, "but I'm gonna forget about eating anything and get to class. I did all that statistics homework and I'm turning it in."

Joe Tom smiled at me. "Dude, when have I ever known you to miss a math problem? You're a math genius. The professor probably thinks you're a gift from god." He poked at my arm.

"I wish."

Joe Tom had a sociology text for his next class and looked miserable.

"You look like you've lost your best friend," I teased. "What's the matter, man, sociology is nothing but a crip course. Any idiot can pass that crap if they can stay awake in class."

Joe Tom groaned. "Yeah, well, you didn't piss off Dr. Brewer. He can be a real horse's ass. He made some snide remark about Jews killing Christ and that's why they're all going to be denied access to heaven. I pointed out I'm a Jew and I don't agree with or appreciate his comment. It sounds too much like Adolf Hitler to me. He got in a real snit over it. Actually, when Mary called us in to the dean's office today, I figured it was about Brewer."

I squeezed his shoulder gently. "Don't worry about it, Joe Tom. Brewer's a jerk but I happen to know he's fair and honest. I've seen him in action several times. He's touchy and doesn't like to be embarrassed in front of others but he'd defend your right to be a Jew to the death. He's a frustrated ACLU lawyer himself. I was told he had to leave law school in his third year because he got a girl pregnant and was forced to marry her. It was an awful marriage, they got a divorce, and he's been paying child support and alimony for years to a total bitch and a kid he hasn't seen years. The kid doesn't even send him a Christmas card. The mother moved to Oregon to get as far away from him as possible so he couldn't see the kid."

Joe Tom looked at me with surprise. "That's rough, dude, I had no idea."

"Almost no one does," I replied, "I only know because when I took his class there was a girl named Marcie in it that knows Brewer's parents. She told me in confidence one day after Brewer got in trouble fighting to save an illegal immigrant family. Marcie and I are good buddies. I'll introduce you the next time I see her. She's majoring in music and travels in different circles than we do."

"So how would you recommend that I act toward him today?"

"Like you would any day. Go in, smile, and say 'good afternoon, Dr. Brewer', and take your seat. He's the one who's been caught with his pants down making an inappropriate comment about Jews and he'll be forever grateful if you just move forward as if it never happened. Trust me on this. Brewer's not the enemy."

We parted ways and headed to our respective classes. Actually, I wasn't' sorry to miss the physics lab. My next class was gymnastics. I took this class at 2:00 PM on Wednesdays and at 10:00 AM on Saturdays. It was a class only for people who could pass a rigorous entry physical examination to prove that one had extensive prior gymnastics training. The coach never took newcomers in this class. There was an additional expense for the class that was not included in my regular scholarship tuition but I was willing to pay for it. It was designed as a special elective and we only had six people in the class. I've studied gymnastics since I was three in New York along with martial arts and taking this class was for me the equivalent of what eating comfort food is to some people. The class comforted me and gave me a feeling that everything was still okay in my life. I'm way too tall to be an outstanding gymnast but I still love it. I went to the class and was disappointed to discover today's class had been cancelled because the gym floor was being sanded in preparation for a new waxing and line painting. Apparently, they had intended to do this over the summer months but something had happened to create a problem that needed to be taken care of before the next basketball game. The gym would not be available to anyone for any reason – including the weight room downstairs - until the following Wednesday. I sighed in disgust and headed back to the dorm room. For the first time in weeks, I was going to be totally free for a few nights. I had to work at Lecky's tomorrow night but without the weight room I could just crash in the dorm room, do some extra studying, and maybe hang out with Joe Tom.

When I got back to the room, I just fell across my bed and fell asleep fully dressed. I didn't hear Joe Tom come into the room after his class. A couple of hours later, I awoke when I heard an odd sound. I peeped through narrowed eyes to see Joe Tom on the couch. He hadn't noticed I had awakened so I was able to stare to my heart's content for a few minutes. He'd changed clothes and wore only a pair of loose baggy shorts and was sitting on the couch in the most provocative position imaginable. He had drawn his knees up and his feet were on the couch. His chin rested on his knees and his hard cock poked out of the leg of his shorts. He had his eyes closed as he massaged his cock with his hand. He'd obviously been at it for awhile because his face was flushed and I could tell he was near orgasm. As I watched his cock suddenly erupted, spewing his cum on his legs and the leather couch. His eyes opened and he looked straight at me. He was embarrassed but reacted with his usual bravado. He slipped his gym shorts off quickly and used them to wipe his cum off his legs and the couch.

"So Sleeping Beauty finally awakens!" he grinned. "You were out like a light when I came in and I couldn't stand it. You know how boys our age are. I needed to cum so bad I thought I was gonna die. You were sorta snoring so I figured you must be stressed out. Too much stress makes me want to sleep it off like a drunk."

"Oh, yeah, Sleeping Beauty is awake and didn't even require the kiss of a prince," I joked. "You look chipper, Tommy boy. That jack off must have been very relaxing."

"You really think so, Kemo Sabe?" he snickered.

Joe Tom stood up and threw his shorts in my face. I felt his wet cum on my skin. A big glob of thick semen landed directly on my lips and I licked it off.

Joe Tom started laughing at me. "You like that huh? Okay, smart ass. Strip. I'm not gonna to be the only one naked in this room."

I feigned dismay. "Are you crazy, Tommy boy? Did I tell you to jack off in front of me while I was sleeping? Did I tell you I needed you to display your white ass to me?"

Joe Tom ran over to my bed. "I'll show you a white ass, boy!" he squealed with laughter.

And he jumped on top of me completely naked. My heart went to my throat. I made a show of protesting and fighting back as he pulled my shirt over my head. His cock bounced against my stomach. It was still dripping the remains of his ejaculation. He wheeled around and grabbed my head in his legs in a head lock and started to pull my shorts and underwear down over my legs. All the while his crotch was moving frantically in my face. I experienced brief moments where my nose was actually pressed against his rosebud asshole and his cock was pressed across my lips but his movements were so fast that it was the same as wresting – just with no clothes. Joe Tom had a full erection and I licked at it with my tongue though his wrestling movements were so quick I doubt he really knew it. He stripped me completely naked. Then he reversed himself and put me in a headlock in his arms. Our cocks pressed against each other and I could feel my cock in his pubic bush. I wrapped my legs around his ass like a wrestler and pulled him into me tight. He was still laughing and teasing me as he rubbed his knuckles into my scalp.

There was suddenly a loud rapping at our door and the knob turned. Thank God it was locked. Joe Tom jumped off me pulled his bathrobe from the closet. He threw mine to me. We rarely used bathrobes in the dorm room but they were required apparel for going to the college pool or in the dorm halls if you were naked. The college did not allow people to traipse around in bathing suits or naked.

Joe Tom opened the door. It was Lecky.

"I really hate to ask on such short notice, Marc, but do you think you could help out tonight? My daughter has been involved in a car accident so we're going to be four short tonight. I tried to call but your cell phone's not working. What do you think? I came over to ask before leaving for the hospital."

Lecky was obviously distraught.

"Sure, Lecky, you know I'll be glad to help you out tonight, in fact every night if you need me until you can get things cleared up."

"Thanks, Marc; you don't know how much this means to me and Carol."

Lecky eyes began to water and I knew that he might start crying and embarrass himself if I didn't take charge.

Joe Tom spoke up. "You don't know me, sir, but I've known Marc for a long time – since high school and he can vouch for me. I'm a pretty good guy and I'm honest. I worked at Arby's Roast Beef for three summers when I was in high school. I'd like to help out if you don't mind. You don't have to pay me but you said you're going to be four people short tonight. I don't know how to cook a pizza but I can promise you I know how to take food orders and wait tables."

Lecky looked at me. "Marc, I am leaving it up to you. If you vouch for him, then he's hired right now." And looking at Joe Tom he said, "Son, no one has to work for me for free. You'll make the minimum plus any tips you earn."

"Thank you, sir. My name's Joe Tom Aronoff and it's nice to meet you."

"I'm pleased to meet you, too, kid. My name is Lecky Eliopoulos, my wife's Carol, my daughter's Lynn, and my son's George." He turned to me and handed me the keys. "Marc no one outside my family understands the restaurant operation and the opening and closing procedures better than you. Thanks for doing this for me."

He turned to go but I stopped him. "Do you need me to open up at 11:00 tomorrow, Lecky? I will if you need me to do it. And is Lynn going to be okay?"

"Thanks, Marc, I know you'd do that for me and I appreciate it but I'll be there tomorrow. If not, I'll call you by 7:00 in the morning, okay? Lynn had a teenager run into her on his bicycle. The kid got killed and everyone who saw it swears it was not her fault. We're very fortunate that one of the witnesses was the sheriff himself. He was coming out of city hall and saw the whole thing happen but Lynn just went to pieces when she saw the kid had been killed. She's under sedation and Carol and George are at the hospital with her right now."

"It'll be okay, Lecky," I said, "go to your daughter and don't worry about anything."

Lecky left the fastest I've ever seen him moving and he was no slouch, obviously very concerned about his daughter. I turned to Joe Tom.

"Thank you for that, Joe Tom. It was nice of you to offer to help out. I know it could be an inconvenience for you and you don't have to keep it up in the future if you don't want to. No one, least of all me, will hold it against you.

Joe Tom slapped me on the head. "I was whipping your ass back there, dude. If we had the time, I'd totally finish it for your making such a stupid fuck comment to me. What makes you think it's inconvenient for me? I enjoyed working at Arby's and I'll enjoy working at Lecky's if he'll let me continue. I've always been a work/study kind of guy. No one should ever graduate from school without some real practical work experience."

He turned from me and threw his robe onto his bed. Again I got a look at that hairy ass that I'd just had my face in moments ago. He leaned over to get underwear from the bottom drawer of his dresser and I could see his big dark pink circumcised cock head swinging from side to side. I turned to get dressed myself and thought, 'Something's got to give here. We're either going to come together and fuck or I am going to lose control and tie him to the bed and rape him.' The thought depressed me. I knew I was falling totally in love with Joe Tom Aronoff and it was only the third day of our reunion after two years.

Joe Tom and I came in through the back of the restaurant. It was already busy and the three waiters were racing around trying to serve customers and handle everything else at the same time. The cook was juggling the varying menu items to keep them in readiness and one of the three waiters was busy preparing a huge bowl of the basic salad. Extra ingredients were not added until specified by the customer. That left one waiter full time on the tables and one confined strictly to the register. Lecky and Carol wouldn't hire someone who could not be trained to effectively run a cash register although 99% of the time the register is operated by Lecky or one of his family members. We waiters prefer it that way. First, if the drawer is short there's no question that a family member might have stolen money. It was clearly an accident. If a waiter has to handle the register and money's short, there's often the sense that the family thought the waiter was incompetent. Since I'd been there, no one has ever been accused of stealing money. Second, and more important, if you're working the register you don't get tips. I've made over three hundred dollars in one night on tips. We're not required to share our tips with the other waiters. Lecky and Carol were adamant that if a waiter was jealous of another waiter making more in tips then the jealous waiter needed to get his ass in gear and do a better job of making the customers happy. In theory, this is true. In practice, the water's a little bit muddy here. It is not just your ability to wait tables that garners your tips. You're at a tremendous advantage if you're a handsome stud that radiates sexiness and appeal. Then you get repeat customers who come in and ask to be seated at one of your tables. I'm not being vain here. I'm 6'7" tall, muscular, athletic, and very handsome. I know how to wear clothes that emphasize my best assets, among them a huge crotch pouch. I'm friendly, joking, and I know how to tease and entice men, women, and children so they enjoy me as their waiter. My competition is ordinary looking guys, not unattractive at all but definitely not material to fantasize and masturbate over.

Carol has told me more than once that in all the years they've operated the restaurant they've never had a waiter more successful than I am. She says the other waiters would probably kill her if she let me work every single night because I dominate the serving area on the nights I work. It would perhaps be humble of me to suggest that I was not aware of my appeal to others – sort of the 'aw, shucks, ma'am' approach – but I'm not that kind of liar. I discovered at an early age that I could get away with murder if I played up my sex appeal and being taller than the other guys often made me the center of attention. Other guys who share my luck will also know the permanent affect it has on a guy's ego when no one in any locker room he goes in ever has a cock as big as his. In my case, I've only found maybe three or four guys with bigger cocks than mine and Joe Tom's one of them. When we were horsing around naked today and he threw an erection in my face I could tell he has me beat by maybe an inch when he's hard but I'm thicker than he is.

Lecky has a nose for thieves and incompetents that would have qualified him for the CIA. He will not hire someone he doesn't trust but I'd been told about a girl that had worked there the previous year that started stealing regularly to feed a cocaine habit. She not only ended up fired but in jail. It was made even more scandalous when she accused both Lecky and George of fucking her after hours in the restaurant. We all knew that Lecky and George had a real passion for females and pussy. We could not understand why Carol put up with Lecky's carousing but we knew that it was the reason that after the incident with cocaine girl she refused to allow another girl to work in the restaurant. When a female applicant threatened to file a lawsuit against the restaurant and charge discrimination, Carol hired two girls, Ephelia and LaWanda, to the eternal amusement of everyone else in the restaurant. Both were black as coal and had about as much sex appeal as the lumps of coal they resembled and not because of their race. Ephelia was fat as the Pillsbury doughboy, probably in her mid twenties, on permanent cleaning detail and loved every minute of it. She was slow witted, I suspect retarded, with the brainpower of slug. Carol carefully doled out her the cleaning supplies to keep her from mixing the wrong things together and Ephelia kept the restaurant so clean the local health department said it was a model for other restaurants to follow. LaWanda was slender and could've been anywhere between her mid fifties and her mid seventies. She wouldn't reveal her age and the family was very secretive and protective of personal information about their employees. LaWanda was really good at her job which was to make the salads, manage the condiments and desserts, and help out with washing the dishes and cooking when needed. She was really a nice lady, a real character but she had a tongue like a razor blade when she was crossed or pissed about something. Carol gave LaWanda a lot of leeway in keeping the waiters in line. You couldn't come into the back and throw things just anywhere. LaWanda would tell you in a flash she and Ephelia were not bought on the slave block and they don't have time to wipe our noses for us, for us to put shit where it belongs. She'd call to a waiter headed back out onto the floor and tell him to get his skinny ass back here and clean his shit up right now, not later. At first, some of the waiters balked at her but Carol and Lecky backed her every time and as others complained to me my answer was always a standard response. LaWanda made closing out the restaurant at the end of the day a total breeze because you didn't have to go around cleaning up messes you should never have made to begin with and more importantly, you didn't have to clean up messes made by other people whose shift ended earlier in the day and left. LaWanda even flicked her whip over George and Lynn, both of whom resisted her and reminded her that their parents own the restaurant. She told them they should be ashamed of themselves for not setting the example they expect of restaurant employees. Lecky and Carol both jumped all over George and Lynn when they heard them arguing with LaWanda one day and told them to get their asses in order if they wanted to get paid. Neither parent was willing to cut their children any slack, both firmly believing that if the restaurant was survive a change of ownership to the children after the parents retired, then George and Lynn had to conduct themselves like professional restaurateurs, not a couple of spoiled kids.