Episode 9 – Off to Work
Next morning the alarm goes off at 6:30. Fuck! My first reaction is total misery, but I jump out of bed and give myself a pep talk. “Don’t be a wuss. This is your chance to show Dad you’re a hustler, a lean, mean, working machine! A kid who puts out 110%. He has no clue what you’re capable of! Two or three cokes and you’ll be flying, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound!” I’m convinced, once he sees me in action, his opinion will change totally (I can hope, right?).
Actually, I’ve got lots of perverted fantasies about offices…figure I’ll be besieged by cougars lying in wait for a juicy uptown bumpkin, plus hordes of hot college grads who’ll fuck anything that moves. It almost pains me to have Jewel in my life. I’ll be forced to be honorable; although, jerking off isn’t totally dishonorable. Right?
In undies, I sprint to the bathroom, but Dad’s shaving, belly sagging in the sink. I shield my eyes in horror. I never (ever) want to look like that. “Call me when you’re finished,” I say.
He grunts indifferently.
In my room, I double check my wardrobe…loafers, dreaded khakis, white shirt, school blazer, and, the icing on the cake, a red plaid bow tie. Okay, it’s a total sell out…I feel like a whore pandering to Wall Street.
I sit on my bed to wait, and magically, my penis begins to test the limits of my underwear, quivers, rises higher and higher. I guide it through the flap into the open air. We have lift-off. It points proudly to the heavens…totally rigid. I realize no mission is complete without gunning the engines, so I grab my joystick and give it a serious work out. We have ignition! I’m tensing, groaning. Suddenly, Dad comes clumping down the hall. Fuck! Dive face down as warmth spreads beneath me.
“Bathroom’s free,” he mumbles. “You awake?”
Realize I’m presenting an embarrassing view of my pink posterior…do a clever Rip Van Winkle imitation and open my eyes. “Oh, wow. I must have dozed off.”
“Be ready in half an hour.” Thankfully he has no wish to linger.
I hurry to the bathroom, but Mom’s in there already with Ava waiting. Holy shit! Why did I to jerk off? Stupid question.
Not anticipating a crowd, I’m naked as a jay bird. Ava’s appalled. “My god, Hunter. Put on a robe at least!”
I shield my jewels and scurry back to my room. Before I know it, I’ve only got five minutes. I run back and pound on the bathroom door. “Come on! I don’t want to be late my first day!”
Ava saunters out. “It’s all yours.”
A shower’s impossible, so I brush, gargle, attempt to tame my unruly hair, slap on deodorant. My bladder’s bursting, but it’s precious time wasted. What a disaster! My first day at work and I’m not even clean!
My dad yells: “Hunter, let’s go!”
I sprint back to my room, try for a tight turn, and collide with the door frame. Fuck! It hurts like a bitch! Feels like I broke my collarbone. In severe pain, I barely manage to pull on my shirt and pants. Forced to go commando. Shove the tie and socks in my pocket, and arrive in the kitchen five minutes late.
“You look like shit,” Dad says thoughtfully. “Where’s the rest of your outfit?”
I reach in my pocket and reveal the evidence.
He slaps his forehead. “Christ, Hunter, nobody wears bow ties anymore. You look like Pee Wee Herman.”
“Exactly,” I say.
He stomps down the hall. “Do I have to do everything?” Reappears in two seconds with a tie I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, a drab striped job like something from the Dullsville Men’s Club.”
“Can’t I pick one?”
“No. Put it on in the limo. Let’s go.”
We hustle downstairs where Dad’s driver, Carl, awaits. He opens the curbside door for Dad, but forces me to navigate the traffic side. It’s not a fun ride. Dad reads the Wall Street Journal and barks advice nonstop. Obviously afraid my fuck-ups will undermine his prestige.
To be continued…read next episode!