20 Days of Tuck

Chapter 5: Tall and Sexy

Chapter 5: Tall and Sexy

August 5, 2014

The Private’s Martini: 6 Parts Gin, 1 Drambuie, 1 Lemon Twist.

His life as a boy in Cincinnati was no different than any other kid’s in Ohio. He recalled building snow forts in cold Januarys, doing jumps on his Huffy over narrow creeks, and enjoying fireworks on the Fourth of July, awed by their bursting rainbow colors and explosive brilliance in the night sky. Love from his parents was plentiful, gifts were abundant, and spoiling him was something his parents didn’t lack. He told me that there wasn’t a day that went by without a hug from his mother, but not so much from his father. He said he had a happy childhood, even if he felt a little unloved by his father.

Grade school at Hinder Elementary in Cincinnati was not as pretty as he had hoped it would be, he confessed to me. “Kids called me ‘Red’ and ‘Freckle Face.’ Bullying was an everyday occurrence. My days at Hinder were horrible. Kids are the meanest and most loathsome creatures on the planet. Most of them have no souls.” But, he said he was a smart kid, not really challenged by school, and was apt in his studies, which caused him to be adored by his teachers and principals. “I picked up things rather easily. I may have been one of the bullied, but I was one of the brightest, particularly in music.”

We had another drink, relaxing together, and he continued his tale of life. “Middle school was a little better than grade school. I was like a weed and grew fast. Before I knew it I was tall and sexy with flaming red hair and broad shoulders. My looks intimidated the kids I went to school with, so the harassment stopped. I played football and baseball, which I wasn’t bad at, but couldn’t find any happiness in. Music called me. The piano was my life, then and now. I took lessons from Mr. Harriday after school and started to perform at local functions. Some of them paid, others didn’t. I never felt so free in life while being behind the keys, and still feel that way today.”

It felt as if we were on a talk show of sorts. I was the host and he was the guest. A question was asked and he answered it, delving in his past. Truth was I just happened to be interested in everything he had to say, and he didn’t seem to mind to be sharing details of his life with me. His tone was actually soothing, warm-sounding and soft, and a good pairing with our drinks.

There was one thing that I specifically wanted to know about him, and surfaced some courage to ask, “When did you know you were different?”

He raised an eyebrow, semi-smiling. “Do you mean gay?”

I nodded. “Yeah. When did you know you liked guys? The big change happened to me in middle school. Is that when it happened to you?”

It was his turn to nod, which he executed in a quick motion, and followed up with, “Billy Cadson was my first crush. We had gym class together, period eight, and he had the biggest d**k on the planet, thick and long. Plus, his balls drooped everywhere, pouring to the floor. I’ll never forget that. I always thought his junk was man-sized for a kid who was fourteen. And he had a hairy chest like a bear, and thick bristles of hair above his c**k. Damn, that boy was fine. I wanted to do everything bad I could with him, but didn’t really know how.”

“Did you do something bad with him?”

He laughed. “Not even close. He was straight as an arrow and wanted nothing to do with me.”

Then he told me about high school and college, which consisted of a string of young men that taught him how to have s*x. “I’m not saying I was a w***e, but I did learn a lot about pleasuring a man, and being pleasured.”

“Did you have any serious relationships at Lincoln College?” I was pretty sure he did because he seemed like a nice guy. Plus, he was easy to look at with his adorable features that made me feel weak in the knees.

“Two guys had me. The first was in my sophomore year. His name was Louis Venzi. He was French and hated Americans, but he seemed to like me; I still don’t know why to this day.”

“How long were you two together?”

“Nine months. He was a senior. He graduated and moved back to Paris.”

“So he was older than you?”

“Most of the guys I went out with and shared relationships with were older than me.”

“What about the second long-term relationship you had? Who was it with?”

A laugh escaped his beautiful mouth and he said, “Brent Bannerman. He was forty and I was twenty. I was a junior in college.”

“Tell me about him.”

And so he did. Bannerman made jewelry for a living, which he sold online: turquoise bracelets, teardrop-shaped Cubic Zirconia earrings, silver-plated necklaces, and pendants in various animal themes. He had a small house in Cincinnati, two dogs, and a pool. Tuck admitted, “I think I liked his pool more than I liked him.”

“So you like to swim?”

“Of course. It’s great exercise. I have to stay in shape if I want dates. Besides, it was an amazing pool. Deep on one end. Heated. That pool was the best thing in my relationship with the man. I know that sounds horrible, but it’s the truth.”

“Did you fall in love with him?”

“Never.” He shook his head. “There really wasn’t anything to love. He liked my body and s*x drive, and I liked his awesome pool. We really had nothing in common. That’s what sort of broke us apart. He did jewelry and I did the piano. Neither of us enjoyed what the other one liked, so we parted ways, which I guess was meant to be.”

“Sounds damaging,” I said.

“Not really. Some men are supposed to be together, others aren’t. It’s just the way the cookie crumbles, as the saying goes.”

We discussed his obsession for the piano and how he ended up in Erie, leaving his life in Cincinnati. I learned that after he graduated from Lincoln College, he applied to various symphonies and orchestras throughout the United States, determined to obtain a job in his chosen field. Out of twenty-seven organizations, numerous interviews and performances, the Mastery Orchestra of Western Pennsylvania (MOWP) picked him up. Tuck added, “I’ve only been in Erie for eighteen months. When I first arrived here, I rented a duplex with three other guys on Sadowick Street across town. It was crazy living with that many straight guys. Unfortunately, the house was for sale, which sold last month to a young couple who are getting married next spring. I was forced to find a place to live. I didn’t want a large place and thought a bedroom would work fine. I answered Miss Kitty’s ad in the paper.”

“And here you are.”

“And here I am.”

* * * *

It was close to midnight when he finally climbed out of the window and into the night. Before he left, I asked, “Do you need a flashlight?”

He grinned his adorable smile again, melted me like caramel left in the sun, and said, “I’m good. The moon will provide just enough light for this short trip.”

“Try not to kill yourself, guy.”

“Never,” he said, and vanished into the night, down the ladder, into the house, and eventually inside his own room for a good night’s sleep.