NYBBGUY58

I am to please...

AW, shucks.

New installment to take everyone's mind off the election...however you voted. We've all had ENOUGH!!! ________ Chapter 19) When I woke the next morning, I felt much more rested. I hadn’t set an alarm, so I wasn’t sure what time it was. I took a look at the clock on the nightstand next to my bed. It was 8:30 a.m.; I’d gone to bed early, 10:30 p.m., so doing a little quick math that meant I’d slept probably about eight and a half hours, figuring in an hour and a half of being awake and getting fucked by Trent. I put on my robe, and wandered into the kitchen. My mom was already up and dressed in gray pants, a bright red sweater and gray suede flats; I could smell coffee and toast. “Good morning my sweet angel,” she said, and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “You look much better, did you sleep well?” I debated for a second and decided to go with a version of the truth in case Trent had mentioned anything. “Mostly. I had a nightmare,” I said, and she frowned a little at that. “I got up, made tea, and petted Maxi. And Trent heard me or saw the light and talked to me for a while. He’s really good at this, mom. He knew just what to say.” She sighed. “I’m glad to hear he was helpful, but you know you can wake me up if you need anything at all.” “Yeah,” I said, nodding. “I know. Maxi did a great job of comforting me, too.” “I’m so sorry,” she answered, and looking down at the floor, then looked back up and burst out with, “I wish we’d never sent you to that awful place,” her face drawn, a combination of guilt and fury. “You would have been better off here.” “None of this is your fault, Mom. Or Dad’s. You had no way of knowing.” “Are you sure you don’t want to come home?” she pleaded. “And do what? It’s too late to apply to a college in the City.” “You could sign up for some classes for spring semester with one of the extension divisions, take piano lessons, you always loved that and…” “Mom, you don’t understand,” I interrupted. “I need to be with the others at the house. They all know exactly what I’ve been through, and it makes it easier.” I debated telling her more, and decided to go with the truth. “I don’t ever sleep alone. Mike and I have slept together every night since it all started. If I have a bad dream, we talk about and then I can rest. And my friends need me. I started the whole thing, how can I leave just because it’s hard?” She shook her head and looked heavenward. “I wish you weren’t so much like me.” “I’ve been saying that for years,” my dad said as he joined us. “He gets his stubbornness from you,” he said affectionately, kissing my mom good morning. “And his sharp tongue from you,” she said, kissing him back. Maxi came in the kitchen, his tail wagging, obviously ready for breakfast. Close behind him was Trent in a black long-sleeved t-shirt that clung to his chest and arms and black jeans, his hair slightly damp from the shower. He gave me a faint smile. “Good morning,” he said. “Good morning,” my mom said. “Darren told me that you talked with him last night,” she said. “Thank you. I hope you didn’t lose too much sleep yourself.” He glanced at me quickly and I gave what I hoped was an imperceptible nod. “Not a problem,” he answered. “It’s part of the job.” I could feel laughter threatening, so I knelt down and patted Maxi. “Are you ready for breakfast Maximillian Amadeus?” I cooed at him, while I stroked his head. I went to the cabinet, got his food and poured some in his dish; Maxi danced around me excitedly as I put his bowl down. As always, he attacked it as if he hadn’t even seen food in months. We all sat down for breakfast at the kitchen table. There was a choice of a couple of healthful cereals, yogurt or milk, whole-grain toast, fresh fruit salad, juice and coffee. “Sweetie, both your father and I have to go to work today, but we’ll be back in time for dinner. There’s plenty of food in the refrigerator for lunch, or you can go out if you want, but of course Trent has to go with you. And I think you should make sure to take it easy and rest today.” “So I’m not under house arrest?” I said. My father rolled his eyes. “No. But you have to do whatever Trent says to do.” I smiled, and exerted all my will power not to either look at Trent or to start laughing. “No problem, I understand. We’ll be fine, see you tonight.” Mom used her phone to order an Uber car for both of them (their offices were about a block from one another’s), kissed me on the cheek, grabbed her purse and laptop case, then she and Dad threw on their coats and left, hurrying to avoid paying a wait fee. Trent and I sat for another five minutes finishing breakfast. “I think we can safely say they’re really gone for the day. So, what should we do?” I asked Trent coyly. His lips twitched. “I can think of a bunch of things we could do,” he said reaching out and taking my hand. “But I think it’d be good for you to get out for a little while.” “You up for braving the Black Friday crowds?” I asked. I needed to find gifts for Mom and Dad and of course all my friends in the frat. He grimaced. “I’m sorry, Darren, too hard to keep track of you in those crowds. How about just a walk in the neighborhood?” I sighed. “Oh, well, I’ll do my shopping online. We could take Maxi for a walk in the park, he’d love that. And then we’ll come back here and have lunch,” I said laying enough emphasis on the last word to make it sound like an indecent proposal. “Mmm,” Trent said, with a broad grin. “Sounds delicious.” “When does Nick come to relieve you?” “Around dinner time, then he’ll be with you through Saturday. And we’ll both go with you to the airport.” “Well, I’d better get washed and dressed.” I showered and shaved as quickly as I could, and pulled on gray cords, a navy turtleneck with a light blue sweater. We went to the closet and got our coats, Maxi trotting after us, whining. When I took his leash out of the coat closet, where it hung on a hook, he went mad with joy, racing around, barking, and then jumping on the door, his tail wagging furiously. We stopped to greet Jan, today’s doorman, before taking Maxi across the street to the Theodore Roosevelt Park where there was a dog run. Jan was an older man, maybe in his 60s, quite tall, a little overweight, with a bushy white mustache and eyebrows. He looked very imposing in his maroon uniform and overcoat. “Mr. Darren, so good to see you,” he said in his heavy Czech accent. “You, too, Jan. You’re looking well. This is Trent,” I said. “He’s…uh…” I hadn’t considered how to introduce him. “One of your bodyguards. Your parents told me on their way out, and there’s a page of instructions for handling packages, deliveries and callers for your apartment. So quickly you got into trouble at school? You’ve been there only two, two and a half months.” I could feel Trent stiffen defensively; he didn’t realize that Jan and I teased one another constantly. I tugged hard on Trent’s coat sleeve as a warning and said, “Just making myself at home there.” Jan roared with laughter at my deadpan answer, and Trent visibly relaxed. “Never a dull moment with you, Mr. Darren, eh?” “That’s life in the fast lane,” I said as my parting shot. Maxi insisted on inspecting every pole on the way to the corner. I hated to rush him, he was so happy to be outside, but the clock was ticking for me and Trent. We finally got across the street and took him to the dog run. We sat on a bench and watched him run around and play with his doggie friends. I greeted a couple of people who I knew by sight from the dog run, but not by name. “You know, Darren, I could call Nick and see if he’ll join us for lunch.” My brow furrowed, and I said, “What?” “I could tell he thought you were cute. I’m surprised the jeans you were wearing didn’t just go up in smoke from the way he was scoping out that hot little butt of yours.” “Is this a regular thing for you two?” I asked, laughing in disbelief. “Not exactly, but he got, uh, cozy with a client once before.” “Wasn’t he wearing a wedding ring?” I asked. Trent gave me a surprised look. “Yeah, you noticed?” I nodded. “He’s married, but he and his wife…” “His wife,” I echoed, completely flummoxed. “Yeah, he’s bisexual. I guess you’d call it on the DL.” “On the what?” “On the DL is short for on the down-low, it means he’s discreet about hooking up with guys.” Sounded to me like a nice way to say he was trying to fool himself and everyone else, but that was probably sort of harsh. I wasn’t in a position to throw stones, and didn’t really want to set myself up as a judge of other people’s lives. “Anyway, he and his wife had triplets and their sex life has dried up completely,” Trent continued. “Why does he stay with her, then?” I said incredulously. “He loves her and his children and doesn’t want to leave. It’s just the kids need a lot of attention right now. Both of them have to work to make ends meet, she’s an Emergency Room nurse with crazy hours, too. Both his and her parents take care of the kids for them when their work schedules overlap. So there’s not much time for them to be together, and when they are it’s focused on the kids.” “I see. I guess,” I said. “Hey, a guy’s got needs. And it’s not like he’s going to leave her for a guy, as much as he enjoys sex with men. He’s Latino, Dominican on one side, Cuban-Italian on the other.” A triple whammy: according to Carlos a lot of Latin men thought nothing of having a wife, a mistress, a girlfriend and a boyfriend, and he had that coming from all sides. “I bet he can get away, and we could have a lot of fun together,” Trent said persuasively. I thought a minute. “Okay, why not?” I wondered if they’d ever made a movie about this situation. Trent texted Nick to call him then extended the invitation once they were speaking. I assumed that Nick was either out of earshot of his in-laws and the kids or responding yes or no and not “hot damn, sure thing I wanna plug that hot little ass.” While Trent explained what was going on, I got Maxi and put him on his leash. “He said he can get here in half an hour. He’s already at his wife’s parents in Morningside Heights with the kids, he’s going to tell them that he’s got to be here earlier than planned,” Trent said as he stowed his phone in his coat pocket. “That has the advantage of being the truth. Sort of,” I said. “This is going to be hot, we’ve never done a three-way,” Trent said. “What about that other client?” I asked. “I’m not into women.” “Oh,” I said. It was a little, well, weird how this guy apparently would fuck almost anything on two legs. I assumed he wasn’t into barnyard fowl. At the same time it was kind of hot, and a real balm to my battered self-esteem that two hunky guys wanted to fuck me. And of course, there was the whole not-so-inner-cumslut thing. We stopped at the front desk when Jan offered Maxi a treat. I was a little nervous, wondering what he’d think when Nick got here early and if he’d say anything to my parents, but realized that he’d go off duty at 4:00 PM. Mom and Dad wouldn’t arrive here until 5:30 or so. Then I worried that a neighbor might hear us and figure it out, but told myself the apartments were old with thick walls. The nerves were more likely because I’d never been with a guy who was on the… DL, that’s it. Would he be strictly “wham bam” and then no thanks? I comforted myself with the knowledge that Trent was a sensitive lover, so it didn’t matter so much what Nick was into. When we got upstairs and hung our coats and I stowed Maxi’s leash. Maxi was totally worn out from running around and playing. He went to one of his favorite spots, near the radiator, and curled up and went to sleep. Trent disappeared into the guest room, then reemerged having traded his jeans for his sweats. I didn’t quite know what to do with myself, so I grabbed a bottle of water and offered some to Trent. “You seem kind of tense,” he said. “There’s nothing to worry about, we’re both total stallions.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s good to get information from such an objective source.” “Let’s sit down and relax,” he said, taking a seat on the sofa. I started to sit next to him when his arm went around my waist and he pulled me into his lap, which made me laugh. “This is relaxing?” I said twisting around to look at him. He smiled back and said, “Sure,” and brushed his over mine, then started kissing and licking the back of my neck. I was grinding against him and gasped out, “I still wouldn’t call this relaxing…but don’t stop. He snickered then opened his legs and said, “Sit on the floor in front of me.” I did as he asked, and then he started massaging my shoulders. “Now we’re talking,” I said, sighing as he hit on some tense spots. After about five minutes of that, the phone rang, which was likely the doorman. I ran to it and picked it up on the third ring. “Hello?” “There’s a man here named Nick,” Jan said in a low voice. “He says he’s one of your body guards, but your parents didn’t mention anything about him coming.” “He’s just running way ahead of schedule, I bet there was a misunderstanding,” I improvised. “Describe him for me.” I sighed. “He’s about 5’11” I guess, around 190 pounds, dark hair, coffee-colored complexion, looks like he could be mixed race.” “Yes, that’s him. I’ll send him up.” “Thanks for being cautious, Jan. I really appreciate it.” “He’s early, got here in 20 minutes,” said Trent. “Guess he couldn’t wait.” A few minutes later the doorbell rang, and I opened it. Nick was there looking VERY good. He had a rolling carry-on suitcase and was wearing an unbuttoned dark trench coat over an unzipped hoodie with a gray t-shirt that showed off his pecs and tight olive green pants. “Come on in,” I said. He didn’t waste any time once the door was closed. As soon as he’d parked his carry-on next to the door, pulled me against him and covered my mouth. While he, er, uh, greeted me, he fondled my butt: tickling the crack and squeezing the cheeks as if judging muscle tone. I broke off the kiss and, breathing hard, leaned against him. “Can I take your coat?” I asked breathlessly. He and Trent, who had joined us in the vestibule, laughed. I took Nick’s coat and hung it in the hall closet. “Can I get you anything?” I asked Nick. “No, I see everything I want right here, muchacho,” he answered, grabbing my butt again. I couldn’t help myself, I started laughing. Probably nervous laughter. There was no point in being coy – I led the way to my bedroom. Once we got in my room, Nick took me in his arms and started to kiss me again. Trent pressed snugly against my back and traced the hairline on the back of my neck with his lips and tongue, his hands holding my hips in place. Nick broke off the kiss to say, “Grab my ass, pull me close.” I did exactly as he said. He was one of my bodyguards, so I had to obey, right? Nick’s tongue filled my mouth, his lips were soft; I could feel his muscular arms tighten around me, and then he started to grind his pelvis into mine. He broke off the kiss to lick my neck and ears while Trent played with my nipples. Between the two of them they were getting me very worked up. For that matter, we were all revved, the light tang of sweat filled my bedroom, if not the entire apartment. “Let’s get this boy undressed,” Nick said. “I want to see that tight little body.” Trent pulled at my sweater, so I raised my arms, while he efficiently stripped off both the turtleneck and the sweater at once. Nick was undoing my belt and opening my pants; Trent knelt to untie my shoes, and help me to step out of them, then pulled off my socks. Once that was done, Nick pulled down my pants and underwear together. I kicked them aside. “Oh, yeah, baby,” Nick said. “I want to see your ass,” as he turned me around to face Trent. I felt Nick’s lips on my butt cheeks, kissing me, then he spread them and started to kiss my asshole. “So perfect. Round, smooth, made for a man to fuck” he said, then his tongue was working the hole. At the same time Trent kissed my neck while he stroked my nipples with his fingers. Then Trent replaced his hands with his mouth suckling on my nipples, and with his left hand stroked my dick and my balls while his right arm went around my back. I was twisting moaning, but neither of them let up. They pretty much had me immobilized, with pleasure if nothing else. I could feel the warning buzz start in my cock – if they didn’t stop, I was going to shoot. “Uh, guys?” I gasped out. “I’m going to cum in about a minute.” As soon as I said that, Trent knelt in front of me and took my dick in his mouth while he played with left nipple and stroked my balls with his right hand. Nothing was going to stop me now: I could feel my entire body tense agonizingly, then release in what felt like a burst of color. Trent swallowed as my load spurted in his mouth, and Nick was fucking my asshole with his tongue. My hips bucked and I started to laugh and tried to pull away from the intense sensations that crowded in on me, but at some point Nick had locked his legs around my ankles and his arms around my thighs, preventing me from moving at all from the waist down, other than the thrusts of my pelvis as I finished climaxing. “Yeah, that was hot,” Nick said. “Real sweet on my end of things.” I drooped between them. “Any chance of my being able to sit, or better yet, lie down? Otherwise I may just collapse on one or both of you.” The laughed and released me. I tottered over to my bed gratefully and lay down. “Muchaco, are you okay?” Nick asked. “Terrific,” I said as I arranged my pillows to prop me up. “Never better. Sorry to ask after both of you put in all that effort, but…could I have a drink of water?” “Sure thing,” Trent said, and went to the living room and retrieved my bottle of water. “FYI, Max is still completely knocked out.” “Like dog, like owner,” I said between sips of water, eliciting more laughter. Both of them were still standing over me. “Anyone want to join me in bed?” I said playfully. Fortunately when I’d moved in this room as a young teenager my parents had left the full-sized bed that my nanny had slept in. It would be a bit crowded with three, but workable. “Sure thing,” Nick said. He took off his running shoes and t-shirt, then knelt over my face, pressing his crotch against my face. I knew immediately what he wanted, so I inhaled loudly, then began to nuzzle and lick his crotch. The smell of his musky pubes filled my nose, and I could feel his dick straining against the confines of his clothes. “Wow, you been trained well, muchacho,” Nick groaned. “My boyfriend,” I said, then went back to worshiping his crotch. It was simpler than explaining that in addition to Mike, who I considered a boyfriend, I had a houseful of fuck buddies, though I really only regularly had sex with six of them. I wondered what they’d think if told them I’d been gang-banged on more than one occasion, so I’d had plenty of practice. “Yeah, that’s it, sniff my man scent deep like a good boy,” Nick growled. I shifted my head a little, but he pulled it back in place. “Did I say to stop? Keep that face buried in my crotch until I say to do something else.” His macho, domineering talk was incredibly exciting. I could feel my dick start to harden again, even though a few minutes ago I thought they’d totally drained me. “Hey, Nick, he likes it. He’s getting hard again,” Trent said. “Sure he likes it. I know a submissive slut when I see one. You want a turn?” “Yeah, man,” Trent said, and he replaced Nick, pressing himself against my face. I could feel the soft knit fabric against my face and his scent came through strongly. It was clear he’d decided to dispense with any kind of underwear…assuming he hadn’t gone commando under his jeans. “Oh, yeah, you do that really well,” Trent said. “Whose smell do you like better?” “I’m not sure…I’ll have to spend more time comparing to decide,” I answered seductively. “We can make that happen, muchacho. Move over, man,” Nick said. They arranged it so that I was in the middle of the bed, Trent was to my left, Nick was to my right. “Okay, sniff me now,” Nick said. It was a little awkward, but I rolled on my side and Pushed my face against his hard dick; the outline was showing clearly through the front of his pants. “Now me,” Trent said and pulled me over onto my other side. His dick was hard; I could feel the entire length of his shaft against my face. “Hmm, I still don’t know” I said. “Yeah?” Nick said. “Then try this,” and he moved so that he was kneeling over my face and pushed his ass over my nose. His butt was hard and muscular; the smell was strong, masculine. “You really like that,” he said, pinching my nipples. “You’re oozing pre-cum.” My dick was hard, painfully so. “Okay, now try me again,” said Trent, seating himself on my face as Nick made way. The soft fabric of his sweats really meant my nose was totally buried in his ass crack. “It feels really good to have your nose buried in my ass.” I shifted my head trying to get a little air, but Trent just pushed his butt against my face even harder. “Yeah, my butt is in your face, and there’s nothing you can do about it, baby. Let’s hear you sniff, deep, get my manstink in your nose.” “Hey, man, you wearing anything under those sweats?” Nick asked. “Just a jock strap,” Trent answered. “Then I get another chance before he decides,” Nick demanded. As if I was really going to choose… “Sure, I don’t want the bitch to miss out,” Trent said. Nick was taking his place, but he’d stripped off his pants and was wearing a pair of black bikini briefs. “Yeah, bet you can really smell it now,” Nick said as he sat on my face so that his ass crack was just in front of my nose. I could see his muscular back, tight waist that swelled into a body-builder’s butt. I not only inhaled loudly, I pressed my tongue up into his crack. He moaned in response. “You’re making me crazy,” he said breathlessly. He pulled his briefs down and pulled my face into his smooth, naked ass. “Lick that hole. Eat my ass, bitch,” he ordered. I happily did as ordered; Nick was rubbing his ass over my mouth and his hard dick against my chest. “I have to fuck you now, got a five-day load that I want to dump inside that hot little ass.” He pulled back and I got my first good look at his dick. It wasn’t any longer than Trent’s, but was as thick as Carlos’ massive meat. “Lube,” I said. Trent stepped into my bathroom and came back with the bath oil, and handed it to Nick. Nick spread the oil on his dick, took some more and put it on the outside of my asshole, pushed one, then two, then three fingers inside me. He pulled my legs over his shoulders and jammed his cock in my ass in one stroke. “Youch…wait a minute, that’s flesh and blood!” I exclaimed. “Take it, muchacho, take it. Not gonna last long inside that tight little boy cunt, gonna make you take my cum inside your hole” he said as he thrust deeply. Time to bring out the heavy artillery: I reached around and stroked his balls and ass simultaneously with my right hand, then tickled the shaft of his dick as he drew back. “Oh, yeah, do that, play with my balls, my ass, my dick. My wife is a hot fuck, but she doesn’t know to touch my ass like you do.” It only took another couple of hard thrusts before his back arched and he shouted, “I’m cumming, that’s five days of my spunk flooding your ass. Take it all.” Then he collapsed on top of me, and kissed me roughly and deeply on the mouth. “Damn, you’re one hot little piece.” “What’d I tell you?” Trent said. “My turn, now.” Nick kissed me again, carefully pulled out – his cock was still hard. He saw me look at it wide-eyed. “Yeah, there’s plenty more where that came from. I’m gonna fuck you as many times as I can before your parents get home.” Trent mounted the bed, saying, “Roll over, I want to fuck you while you’re on your stomach.” I immediately rolled over and spread my legs; he grabbed a pillow and put it under my hips, then lined his dick up with my ass and pushed in. “Thanks for lubing him up for me, man,” Trent said to Nick as he sank his dick inside me slowly. He laid down on top of me; I could feel his hairy, muscular chest against my back as he started to pump in and out of my ass. “Wow, it’s even better the second time,” he gasped. His thrusts were coming harder and faster, flesh slapping loudly on flesh. He was giving me an amazing prostate massage…and I started to cum onto the pillow under my hips. Yikes, I was going to have to change my sheets and launder them to hide the evidence. “Oh, baby, your ass is squeezing me…here I cum…” Trent slammed hard against me three times, then froze. “I’m mixing my cum with Nick’s. We’re going to take turns in your butt and fill you so full of spunk you’ll be able to taste it.” And then my phone pinged with an incoming text message…

Really creative use of "charged!" I love puns, though.... You've got a really good start, all kinds of directions: the further adventures of Toby, or just the variety of men on the line who have to "pay" to enter. Or something like that...

Hey, thanks!

Chapter 18) I was awoken by a loud buzzing…no it was a shrieking sound; I fumbled with my alarm clock but it didn’t stop. That’s when the sleepy fog shrouding my brain cleared a bit and I realized it was the new alarm. Someone was trying to break in, or more likely it had been set off by accident. Cursing, I reached for my sleep pants, while Carlos did the same. Then there was someone pounding on the door of the room. I started to get out of bed to open it, but Carlos pushed me back, and said, “No, Darren, let me check what’s going on.” I made an exasperated sound and started to argue, until Carlos unlocked the door and I saw Rod standing there. “Get in the bathroom now, lock the door and close the shutters,” Rod ordered. “What?” I said, as I struggled into my sleep pants and t-shirt. “Someone is trying to break in, they’ve thrown a brick through the window. The police will be here in a few minutes, but you need to do what I’m saying. Now.” His military training was in evidence in the way he was ordering us around. “C’mon, baby, move it,” Carlos said. “I’ll come with you,” he said to Rod. “No. Stay with Darren, and take his cell phone,” he said grabbing my phone and shoving it in Carlos’ hand. “I’m going to sneak out a side window and try to catch the son-of-a bitch in the act.” Carlos didn’t look happy, but nodded and hustled me down the hall. “Who would be stupid enough to hang around after the alarm went off?” I argued, dragging my feet. Then I heard a distant crash between the beats of the bleating alarm, and what sounded like firecrackers. “Get him in there and lock the door,” Rod shouted at Carlos. “Don’t turn on the light until the shutters are closed, and don’t come out of there until either the police or I say it’s okay.” “What about you?” I said, still resisting being hustled into the bathroom. “That sounded like gunshots or something, it’s dangerous…” “Darren, this is what I do for a living, this is why your parents hired me. Shut up and do what I’m telling you so I can deal with these fuckers.” Carlos scooped me up and carried me into the bathroom, slammed the newly-installed heavy metal door, locked it and then groped his way over to the window. “We can’t just leave him out there,” I said. “He’s here to keep you safe and I’m going to make sure you let him do his job,” Carlos said, still fumbling for the shutters. “My phone has a flashlight, give it to me,” I said. He gave it to me, and I turned it on. “Aim the light at the floor,” Carlos barked. “You don’t have to shout,” I said, and then heard another gunshot outside the bathroom window. I gulped and immediately did as he said. He finally got the shutters closed, and I turned on the light. I sank down on the floor, sitting on a little throw rug with my back braced against the cabinet under the sink. I wondered how long we’d have to be locked up in here. On the one hand, it was secure as far as intrusions, but what if they decided to set fire to the house? How would we get out? I tried to relax and stop thinking up worst-case scenarios. But I was certainly good at them. The bathroom had been converted to a panic room, something I’d put down to general paranoia on the part of Uncle Jeffy and my parents. It seemed like they were right, after all. ———————— “Your luggage is in the car parked at the bottom of the steps,” Rod said as crisply as if he were a drill sergeant speaking to new recruits. “I’m going to exit first and open the back door. Darren, exit the house quickly, get in the back seat of the vehicle and duck down. Immediately. Carlos lock the front door of the house, then get in the back with Darren. One of my partners is driving us so I can accompany you inside the airport.” I was tense and exhausted; even after we got the all-clear, neither Carlos nor I had been able to get back to sleep. Rod hadn’t been able to catch anyone, and by the time the police arrived it was pretty obvious whoever had been trying to break in was long gone. The popping sounds turned out to have been firecrackers, not guns, though it looked as if someone might have taken some shots at the front of the house with a pellet gun. The police had come and gone, taken our statements and the video disks from the security cameras. Carlos had set it up so that the cams backed up wirelessly to a Dropbox account that he or Uncle Jeffy could access, so we’d still have a copy. I wanted to argue that this was a lot of fuss over what amounted to a stupid prank, but Rod made it clear that he wasn’t going to take any back-talk. I did exactly as Rod said while he hovered next to the car, and as soon as he and Carlos got in and all doors were shut we headed for the airport. We were going to be hours early for our flight, but Rod and the police decided that it was safest for us to get to the airport and go through security. No one would be able – theoretically, anyway – to get a gun or any kind of weapon past the checkpoint, and Carlos would be with me and could offer physical protection if needed. He was keyed up, ready to punch out anyone who even looked sideways at me. I hoped there wouldn’t be an incident while we were travelling. I was worried that because Carlos was Latino, the TSA and the airlines would probably shoot first and ask questions later given the current poisoned political environment. “Can I sit up, yet?” I asked. “No,” said Rod. “Not until we’re on the expressway.” “Stretch, out, baby, put your head in my lap,” Carlos said. “Now isn’t the time for romance,” I said sarcastically. Carlos scowled at me. “You’ll be more comfortable, and maybe you could catch a nap. You look worn out.” Put like that, the proposition had its advantages, so I stretched out as best I could using Carlos’ muscular left thigh as a pillow. I was on my side; Carlos stroked my hair, then kneaded the muscles where my neck met my head with one hand. I all but purred, and felt myself relax enough to doze lightly as we made our way to the airport. From the way Carlos gradually stopped the gentle massage, I gathered he’d dropped off, too. Rod subtly stood guard while I checked my bag – Carlos only had a knapsack – ensuring that no one got too close. He stuck with us until we’d cleared TSA security, waving goodbye. Part of his holiday weekend would be spent making sure the broken window was repaired, and he would monitor the house remotely via the security cams. Once we’d boarded the flight, Carlos insisted that I take the window seat so he could be a buffer between me and the aisle. I decided not to argue about it, and resisted pointing out that anyone sitting in front or in back of us could still get to me. Carlos said, “I still think we should have called or texted Mike. “What for?” I said for what felt like the millionth time. “There’s nothing he can do, it’ll just spoil his vacation.” Carlo gave up since the jet was going to take off and we had to turn off all electronics. “Baby, I could come with you to New York if you want,” he offered. It was tempting, but I didn’t want to ruin his time with family. “No, I’ll be fine. You should go spend time with your family. I’m sure your parents want to see you, especially with all the fuss over the frat and the legal stuff going on.” He thought for a minute. “All I’m going to do with them is eat dinner, watch football with my dad and some of my brothers and hang out. If I go with you, I get dinner,” he said glancing at me for my nod of verification, “I could still watch football and hang out, plus we could have more awesome sex.” I laughed. “It’s a thought. But you need to unwind and if you’re with me you’ll feel like you have to be my bodyguard.” “And what a body I’d get to guard,” he leered. We went back and forth some more, but he finally conceded that his mom would be upset and disappointed, so he couldn’t really blow off the weekend with family in DC. ———————— “Darren,” I heard my dad call as I exited the concourse at LaGuardia airport, and then I saw him waving. What an intense relief: I’d made it home in one piece. Not that I’d really believed anyone was going to go to the extreme of following me on the flight to harm me, but the events of the last 24 hours were enough to make anybody nervous. It’d been harder than I anticipated to say goodbye to Carlos after we exited the jet way, and I’d found myself looking over my shoulder to make sure no one was trailing me. Given that the vast majority of passengers getting off their flights headed for baggage claim and ground transport, it meant that I’d walked quite slowly, letting everyone pass me. Just to be safe. This warred with my instinct to run as fast as possible and head for home immediately. It would be good to be back on my own turf, just a face in the crowd that was New York and best of all with no bodyguard to dog my steps I’d be able to breathe. Now I was home and could relax. “Dad,” I said, throwing my arms around him. I was so happy to see him, and that’s when I noticed the two guys in dark clothing standing behind him, watching us. They literally screamed “security” without saying a word. Both were, typically, stocky and muscular; one was a little taller with reddish-brown hair; the other was a Black guy, possibly mixed race, a bit huskier. “Darren, this is Trent and Nick, your security guards for while you’re home,” my dad said. So much for normal. “Oh please, is this totally necessary?” I said irritably. “Darren,” my father said sternly “someone tried to break into the house at school. You’ve obviously rattled a number of people, some of whom have no problem using violence to intimidate you and may try to harm you. I’d rather be safe than sorry when it comes to your wellbeing.” “Rod called you,” I said sourly. “That fucking fink…” “I pay him to watch over you and to keep me, your mom and your attorneys informed.” “Fine. Whatever. Can I ask you guys a question?” I said addressing the two Men in Black. “Sure,” one of them, the taller white guy who I thought was Trent, answered. “Is it obligatory for security guards to have monosyllabic names?” I snapped waspishly. Both of their mouths twitched. “You can call me ‘Nicholas’ if you want,” the Black guy said. At least I’d gotten who was who correct. We collected my bag, got into the discreet black sedan with tinted windows that were probably bullet proof and then made the trek to the Upper West Side apartment where I’d grown up. The building was over a century old and had a tastefully ornate Beaux Arts façade. Our apartment had originally been my maternal grandparent’s home, but they’d elected to relocate to Florida years before I was born and had sold the place to my parents for a ridiculously low price. The Planetarium and Natural History museum were right across the street, and Central Park was just a half a block away. They’d always been my favorite places in New York, and as a child were my version of a neighborhood playground. “Mr. Darren,” exclaimed the doorman, Javier as I got out of the car. “Welcome home.” We shook hands warmly; I smiled at him and said, “Thanks Javier. How’s everybody? The wife, the kids…?” “All doing beautifully,” he assured me. “The oldest started high school this year, and the baby is in kindergarten.” Nick cleared his throat loudly, I rolled my eyes. “My handlers want me to get inside and go upstairs,” I said grumpily. “Have a nice holiday,” smiling at Javier to soften my momentary fit of pique. I didn’t want him to think I was irritated with him. I’d save that for the Men in Black. The elevator ride was very quiet, though it was possible that everyone else could hear me fuming. Once we got off the elevator, I could hear our dog barking. As soon as Dad opened the front door that led into the foyer, we were greeted by the manic amber dachshund. “It’s Maximillian Amadeus Grandiamus,” I said, scooping up the wriggling dog. He was beside himself, whining, barking, and licking me everywhere he could reach. “Maxi, you didn’t think I was gone forever, did you? You knew I’d be back…” and that’s when I lost it, and started crying much to Maxi’s dismay, so he licked me in the face. Everything I’d been through: nearly being choked to death by Daddy Scorpio, dodging a potentially fatal illness, the insults and threats and last night’s attack on the frat house came crashing down. “Darren, you’re…sweetie, what’s wrong?” my mother said when she realized I was cuddling the dog and crying. “I’m sorry,” I sniffled. “I’m just, I don’t know…I was looking forward to being home and back to normal for a few days. And then I get here,” I continued, glancing at Trent and Nick, “only to find out that I’m under house arrest.” I saw the bodyguards exchange glances. What that meant, I wasn’t certain, but it probably was along the lines of wow-what-a-messed-up-brat-we-have-to-deal-with. Mom stepped over hugged me, and kissed me on the cheek. “Sweetie pie, you’re worn out, and after last night it’s not a surprise. I’m betting that you’ve drunk too much coffee and eaten too much sugar on the way here.” It was as if she had a built-in junk-food sensor. I’d drunk several glasses of iced coffee and had a carrot muffin, a chocolate croissant and a cranberry orange scone while we killed time in the airport. I was pretty wired. “I thought I’d make omelets for lunch – does anyone object to cheddar and mushroom?” Mom addressed that last question to the room, and since there was no answer apparently no one minded and the Men in Black were having lunch with us. She’d chosen mushroom and cheese omelets because they were my favorite – a comfort food. “There’s tomato soup, I’ll make you some chamomile tea and after lunch you can take a nap. You’ll feel better once you’ve had some good food and gotten a little rest.” My mom – there was nothing that food and sleep couldn’t fix. I put Maxi down, and with his tail wagging madly, he went over the Men in Black. They smiled down at him and each gave him a pat on the head. If they were nice to Maxi, they couldn’t be all bad. I scrounged in my coat pockets for a tissue to dry my eyes and hung my coat, then took a deep breath and said, “Trent, Nick, let me hang your coats for you.” Wordlessly, they handed their dark coats to me, and I hung them in the closet. “Hey, what about me?” my dad said, apparently trying to be funny. “You’re not company, but sure, I’ll hang your coat,” and took his battered camel colored moleskin car coat. Everyone seemed to be frozen in place, worried that if they breathed too loudly I’d shatter again. “I’m going to unpack, and then I’ll set the table, Mom.” “If you’re not too tired,” she answered. I had to demonstrate to these guys that I wasn’t a spoiled brat. At least not 100% of the time. “Why don’t I help you with your luggage?” Trent said. “It’s really not necessary, but thanks,” I said, leading the way to my bedroom. Maxi skittered after us, not willing to let me out of his sight yet. Our apartment was large by New York standards, three bedrooms and three-and-a-half baths with a living room, dining room and an eat-in kitchen. The floors were classic herringbone, the ceilings high, about 12 feet. My room had pale-blue walls, with a large blue and green abstract-patterned area rug and dark blue drapes over cream vertical blinds. A grouping of photos was hung on the wall, there were a few more displayed on desk; there was a reproduction of a Morris Louis painting and a framed poster from a long-ago Monet exhibit, too. “Nice place you have here,” Trent said, trying to make small talk. “Thanks. I guess I take it for granted, to me it’s home.” He set down the suitcase, and I opened it on the floor, and started to take out my clothes and put them away. Max decided to “help” me unpack by thoroughly inspecting my suitcase and its contents. Once he was satisfied, he jumped up on my bed and made himself comfortable on the blue, white and green striped duvet. Trent checked out the closet, stepped over to each of the windows and looked out – assessing the security or lack thereof, I suppose – then opened the door to the bathroom. “Hey, this is great, you have your own bathroom? It’s like you have a private studio apartment.” “Yeah. The view is the back of the building, but it’s quiet. Only the living room, dining room and master bedroom have any kind of view anyway. I had a nanny until middle-school, and this was her reoom. Once she moved out, I nagged my parents to let me take it. I think they decided it was easier to let me move in than to deal with my griping.” He smiled at that one. Now was the time. “Trent, I’m sorry about being such an asshole…,” I began. “No apology necessary. You’ve been through a lot from what I’ve heard, and last night must have been frightening.” I paused as I tucked my underwear in the dresser and just nodded, suddenly unable to speak. “You want to tell me about it?” I sighed and shrugged and sat on the bed; I gestured to Trent to sit on my desk chair, which he turned to face me. Max nuzzled my right hand, then rolled over for a belly rub. “What’s to tell? One minute I was asleep, the next the alarm was going off. I figured it had gone off by accident. My friend Carlos was sleeping in my room and he was just going to check what was happening when Rod, my school bodyguard, knocked at the door and told us someone was trying to break in. They broke a couple of windows, and I could hear what sounded like gunshots, but turned out to be firecrackers. The guard insisted Carlos and I go in the panic room and said we couldn’t come out until either he or the police cleared it. We were in there for about an hour before he said it was all clear. That was it for sleep, so we went to the airport early and hung out until it was time for our flight to go. The police suggested it because it was unlikely anyone would be able to smuggle a weapon past security.” “Do they have any idea who did it?” Trent asked. I shrugged. “The police have the security cam recordings, but I haven’t heard if they were able to see much on them. Rod tried to catch them, but whoever it was had already left. Probably some locals who’re pissed at me for messing up the football season. The University’s football team is big deal in that town, and I blew open a whole sexual abuse ring that the coach was running.” “So I’ve heard. That took a lot of guts.” “I didn’t feel like I had a choice. It was just wrong what was going on, the way the guys who are my friends were being used and abused. I had to do something.” “You really didn’t have to,” Trent said. “You could have just come back home and your parents definitely would be fine with that even now.” “Maybe,” I answered. “But how could I sleep at night? And I need my friends there, and they need me. I got them into this mess, I can’t run off as soon as it gets hard. So I’m not just a totally spoiled brat.” “Never said you were,” he answered with a grin. “I bet you thought it,” I said back, smiling at him. He was kind of cute, I noted now that my irritation had abated. Not as good looking as Mike…but definitely attractive. “Your parents told us you had a mouth on you. I see that they’re right.” At that moment my phone chimed, signaling an incoming message. I looked and my heart leapt – it was from Mike. “Call me,” it said. “Excuse me, I’ve got to call, uh…” “Somebody you’re happy to hear from, it looks like,” Trent said. “My boyfriend,” I said sheepishly. His eyes flickered – disappointment? Hmm… “I’ll give you some privacy,” he said, and left the room. I was pressing the return call icon on my droid before he even left my bedroom. “Darren, are you okay?” was the first thing Mike said. Not hello. And he hadn’t called me Darr or Honey or Sweetheart. I had a feeling this was not a good sign. “Sure, I’m fine,” I answered. “Why didn’t you call or text me?” he demanded. “About what?” I said, playing dumb. “Darr, don’t fuck with me. About what happened last night. Why didn’t you contact me? I had to hear it from Rod and then Carlos.” I sighed. “I didn’t want to spoil your vacation. There’s not much you could have done. I’m fine, Carlos is fine, even Rod is fine. A couple of the windows in the house, not so much, but they can be replaced.” “You should have called me first thing this morning.” “What about your family? How would you explain an early morning phone call like that?” “All right, well, you could have texted me,” he blustered. “Oh, yeah, great idea,” I said sarcastically. “‘Mike, someone tried to break into the house last night, Carlos and I spent an hour locked up in the safe room, but we’re fine. Have a nice day.’” “You could’ve texted me to call you when I could. That’s what Rod and Carlos did.” Duh. “I didn’t even think of that,” I said, chastened. “I didn’t want you to worry.” “Well that didn’t fucking work out, did it?” He was seriously pissed off at me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make it more real, I guess. I’m safe, though. I’m at home and my parents hired a couple of security guards to watch over me.” “I’m glad they have some sense. You can’t do this, Darr, you can’t shut me out.” “I wasn’t shutting you out, I was planning to tell you on Sunday as soon as I saw you.” I argued back. “I’ll bet,” he snapped. “I’ve gotta go now. I’ll see you Sunday,” he finished and hung up. No “I miss you.” Not even a goodbye. I rested my head in my hands; Maxi seemed to know I was upset, so he got in my lap and nuzzled my face, then rolled over on his back. I petted him absently. This was going to be the worst Thanksgiving in history. ————————— I was in the frat house…where was everybody? The layout was different; somehow my room from home had been transported here. I thought I heard Maxi in my room and went to look, but then I was in a different room…the sub-basement room? The walls were covered in black velvet, but there were windows. I heard shouting and looked out of the window, there were people pointing at the house, which now was just the one room I was in, and the walls were just fabric like a temporary pavilion. The crowd was angry and yelling something – I couldn’t make out the words – as they walked towards the house. I looked out the front of the house and there were more of them…where was my panic room, where was the basement…I couldn’t find a safe place and now they were inside and I couldn’t move fast enough… I woke up gasping for breath. It took me a minute to remember where I was, and another to stop hyperventilating. Just a dream, just a dream, I told myself. I went to my bathroom, turned on the light and drank some water. I wondered if I’d shouted out loud and if anyone had heard me. I turned the bathroom light off, checked the time: 3:30 AM. I lay back down and tried to go back to sleep, but the dream still haunted me. I ached to have Mike here with me, or Carlos or Aiden or Aaron or Ike. They’d tell me it would be okay, and hold me until I calmed down. I should have let Carlos come here. I should have listened to him and contacted Mike. I tossed and turned…finally I gave up and went to the kitchen. Maybe I’d make myself some more chamomile, and that would help. I pulled on a robe over my pajamas and navigated by memory in the darkness to the kitchen. Once there, I turned on the light in the hood over the stove, and as quietly as I could got a teabag, put it in a mug, ran water over it and then put it in the microwave. It would be less noisy than using the kettle. I heard the jingle of Maxi’s collar tags as he joined me in the kitchen, looking at me with wide, imploring eyes, clearly hoping for a snack. “Can’t you sleep either, Maxi? Let me get you a treat,” I said, and went into the cupboard and got him his favorite, a liver snap. He wolfed it down as if he’d been starved for days. Then the microwave started to beep, so I ran and silenced it, taking out my cup of tea. I took it into the living room, turned on a lamp next to the sofa where Maxi joined me. The tea was still too hot to drink; I blew on it and took a few cautious sips, and petted Max. Two days until I saw Mike. I didn’t know what to hope for. Maxi was deliriously happy, though, rolling over on his back, and petting him seemed to calm me. I remembered reading that petting dogs could lower blood pressure and decrease stress. I heard quiet footsteps, and looked up to see Trent in the doorway, dressed in NYU sweats. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?” I whispered. “Your parents pay me to sleep lightly,” he said, taking a seat in the armchair nearest the sofa. “I guess you drew the short straw, staying here on Thanksgiving.” We kept our voices down to avoid waking my parents, though their bedroom was at the other end of the apartment and with its own private bath. He smiled. “It’s okay. Nick and I switch off holidays when we need to, and your mom put on quite a spread for dinner. What are you doing up?” “I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I’m having tea and petting Maxi, which I hope will relax me.” “He’s a cute dog. Loves you to death.” “He kind of loves everyone,” I said. “It’s hard to compliment you,” Trent said with a lopsided smile. “Sorry?” I answered, feeling puzzled. “I tried earlier when we were talking about your situation at school, and now the dog, too. He hasn’t jumped up to greet me, so I think we can say he’s pretty attached to you.” “Okay. I guess that’s true. Dogs never stop loving…” I said on a sigh. “The call with the BF wasn’t so great, huh?” he asked sympathetically. I huffed out a breath of air. “Do my mom and dad pay you to read my mind, too?” “I don’t read minds, but you were excited to get his text, and since you called him you’ve been dragging around looking miserable. They do pay me to be observant.” “Yeah, it wasn’t a great call. Actually, it was a total disaster. He’s angry because I didn’t call and let him know what had happened, and he found out from Rod and a frat brother. He called, we argued, he yelled at me and hung up without even saying goodbye.” “I’ve seen this before. It’s not really you he’s angry at.” “He does a great impression of being angry at me.” “Trust me. He’s pissed and feeling guilty that you were in a dangerous situation, that he wasn’t there and that there’s nothing he can do about it.” I just shook my head and looked away. “And you had a nightmare, didn’t you?” I was surprised and I’m sure it showed. “What makes you think so?” “Darren, I work with individuals who need protection from people who want to hurt them. That’s a stressful situation to put it mildly, and most of them have nightmares and don’t sleep well. It’s hard to be in that position.” I felt a wave of relief. Someone finally knew what it felt like for me. Everyone else just told me to do as my security told me to, and that I’d be safe. In the meantime I was a wreck, constantly braced for the worst. “Did your training include being a psychotherapist, too?” He chuckled, still keeping his voice down. “No, but I worked as a bartender for a while. You learn how to listen doing that job.” “Yeah,” I said. “I had a nightmare, an awful one.” In a replay of our earlier conversation he said, “Want to tell me about it?” I told him about the dream in detail; it had been terrifyingly vivid. “I guess it’s not hard to interpret is it? Classic anxiety dream: threatening crowd, no one to help me, no place to be safe.” “It sounds pretty bad,” he said sympathetically. “I’ve had others over the past few months, but Mike was always there when I woke up.” “And you just had a big argument with him, which makes it worse.” I nodded, felt my eyes burn, but successfully stanched even the suggestion of tears. I’m not going to cry over Mike if he’s going to be a jerk. Trent moved to sit next to me, put his arm was around my shoulder. “You’ve had a hard couple of days, and you need to try and get some rest.” I didn’t want him to take his arm from around me…it felt good. Reassuring. But I nodded and stood, moving towards my room. “Isn’t Max going to come with you?” Trent asked. “I wish. No, he’s been very well trained. He sleeps here in the living room, or if he’s hot will curl up in the guest bathroom on the tiles. I tried to get him to sleep in my room when I found out I hadn’t been accepted at my first choice college. My mom even gave her blessing, but as soon the lights would go out, he was scratching on the door to leave my room.” “He’s a funny little thing,” Trent said as we left the living room. “Thanks for listening to me,” I said once we were at the short hall that led to my room, and held out my hand. He took it in both of his, and gave it a squeeze. I leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, but he zagged when I zigged and, somehow, our lips met instead. It was like static electricity, a brief shock; then as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his arms were around me and we were kissing. Seriously kissing. I broke it off. “I’m sorry, that was really inappropriate,” I gasped. “Yeah, I know,” he answered. And we kissed again. We somehow made our way to my bedroom without really breaking the kiss, apparently quietly enough that my parents didn’t hear us. Both of us were breathing hard; I was practically crawling up his body, so he quickly lifted me and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He carried me over to my bed and laid me down, then blanketed me with his body. I could feel the weight of his muscular body on mine, his lips moved delicately over my jaw and neck. He was pushing my robe off my shoulders, and I started to pull at his sweat shirt. In short order we were both naked, and we launched ourselves at one another, kissing, licking, biting and caressing. His hands were warm, lightly calloused; I shivered as he stroked my back and shoulders. “You have a beautiful body,” he murmured. “If you’re into wire hang…” he cut me off with a kiss. “Just say thank you,” Trent whispered. “Or better yet, tell me what you like about my body.” I giggled. “Everything,” I sighed, a little theatrically. “Your muscles,” I said kissing his right biceps and then trailing kisses across his furry chest to his left arm. “The way you touch me, the callouses on your fingers. Your lips,” I added and kissed him. “And of course…” I finished, stroking his hardening cock, and playing with his balls both of which looked to be every bit as big as Mike’s. He closed his eyes, his jaw dropped and his head dropped back as he gave a low groan. I moved down and began to lick his cock head, teasing, light touches of the tongue along with little kisses, then moved to his thick shaft and gave it the same treatment. “Where did you learn to do this?” Trent gasped out. “You’re what – 18?” I looked up at him coyly. “I’ve been studying hard since I got to college.” I moved to his balls, using my lips and tongue like I had on his dick, and kept going behind his balls. He shifted a little so I was able to lick his asshole; he gasped and I could feel his hand on the back of my head, holding me securely in place. As I rimmed him, I stroked his balls and his dick, eliciting another moan from him. Then he was pulling me up, and planted his lips on mine. “God, I want to fuck you so bad…” I smiled seductively and went to my bathroom and retrieved the bath/shower oil I used on my skin. I put some on my hand and rubbed it on his cock, then took some more and lubed up my butthole, then laid back with my legs spread. He looked down at me with a startled expression on his face. “What?” I said. “Don’t you want me to use a condom?” I hadn’t even thought of it, I was so used to bareback sex. “I’m on PReP,” I explained. “It’s covered.” He gulped. “You’re sure?” “Positive,” I answered. “Just fuck me…I want it so bad,” I whispered. He took my legs over his shoulders, lined himself up and started to push gently inside of me, almost as if were afraid he’d hurt me. Since I’d been fucked six times by Carlos the night before, taking Trent’s dick wasn’t difficult, even though he was quite well endowed. He slid in with no resistance from me and no pain at all. Quite the opposite – my own dick was hard as a rock. He pulled back and then thrust in again. “It’s been…I don’t know how long since I fucked someone bare, your ass is so sweet. I want to make it last…but you’ve got me so turned on…” he gave an inarticulate cry, and began thrusting against me with hard strokes, grunting as he did. “I’m gonna cum…take it…” and he pushed all the way in, his balls against me. I could feel his dick spasm as he shot his load inside me, and that’s all it took for me to shoot my own load all over my chest. He slumped on top of me and covered my mouth with his. I could feel his heartbeat race in counterpoint with my own. “You weren’t the only one who was turned on,” I said, stroking the back of his neck. He propped himself on his elbows and grinned. Then he grimaced, his expression serious. “I shouldn’t have done this.” “Hello? It wasn’t just you, or did you forget about my being here, too?” “It was totally unprofessional…” he began. “Totally naughty, and that’s why it was so much fun,” I said, interrupting. Then I remembered everything we’d just talked about. “Besides, it’s what I need right now…to feel desirable.” “Your boyfriend is an idiot if he lets this come between you. And I’m betting he’ll cool off in a few days.” Trent pulled himself carefully out of my ass. “I wish I could sleep with you, but that’s probably a really bad idea.” I nodded in reluctant agreement. He stood, used my bathroom to take a leak and clean up a little, then pulled on his sweats. I was still in bed, now feeling warm and drowsy. He sat next to me, and kissed me again. “Think you’ll sleep okay?” I inhaled and sighed deeply. “Yeah. Thanks.” “See you in the morning,” he said, and slipped quietly out of my room. I wonder if my parents pay him for that, too? I thought as I slipped into deep, untroubled sleep.

Ctrl+Home does it...at least in Firefox.

Looks good! I've been able to find what I want so far. The one thing I miss is the arrow that took the view back to the top of the page, but I belt Ctrl+PgUp or Home will do the same thing.

Next installment: ______________________ Chapter 17)A day in court, which was proving to be an utter waste of time. “Uncle Jeffy, what’s going on?” I whispered, unable to hide my irritation. “I’m missing class to be here.” He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “They’re using every trick in the book to delay and I’m afraid they’re all legal. Not ethical, but legal,” he whispered back with deep disgust clearly evident in his tone. He looked every inch the part of a high-powered litigation attorney: short salt-and pepper hair, a strong jaw, dressed in a master-of-the universe double-breasted blue pinstriped suit with a crisp white shirt, gold cufflinks and a bold red and blue tie. The associate with him was similarly attired, but in a more youthful style. And of course I had to come in looking like a choirboy, so I was in a navy suit, too. The defense had chosen navy-blue as well; not a surprise, I had read that studies proved that navy blue inspired trust. I sighed and leaned back in a useless attempt to get comfortable in one of the supremely uncomfortable chairs that seemed to be mandated in court rooms around the U.S., while listening to the defense attorney argue his motion for more time to review the evidence and conduct discovery. For this I was missing English and trigonometry. News of the arraignment of faculty along with the criminal indictment and the class-action law suit had hit the airwaves like an atomic bomb blast, leaving the entire campus deeply divided and in a state of shock. A few alumni contacted me on Facebook to let me know they’d personally always thought Daddy Scorpio was creepy. But since I was the lead plaintiff in the class action, information had been leaked by the defense – not on the record of course, but puh-leeze – that strongly suggested I was sexually promiscuous and out of control. The implication was that any sexual assault I endured was entirely my fault and that it was more than likely I’d been a willing participant. I’d had to deal with catcalls, threats, social media rants about what a trouble-making faggot I was and even some of the football team (obviously none of them from the frat) got in my face, trying to frighten me off campus or force me to recant my testimony. It was sheer luck that I was meeting Mike, Carlos and Aiden for lunch that day and that they came looking for me just in the nick of time, prior to my being beaten into a pulp. In response, Uncle Jeffy had demanded that a campus security officer accompany me at all times at the University’s expense. Of course the administration refused, so my parents hired a bodyguard, a tough-looking former navy seal by the name of Rod. Uncle Jeffy said that when we won he’d make sure that Mom and Dad were reimbursed. At the rate everything was going that would be sometime in the next millennia. My friends from the frat had started accompanying me to class whenever they could, carrying their laptops and doing their own homework while they sat on one side and the guard sat on the other. Carlos especially took great pleasure in staring down anyone he thought was even remotely threatening. The objections of any professors to my security team were overridden by my attorneys, so they accepted it and stopped kvetching. And forget any more solo date nights with Mike. If I went out, I was surrounded by a crowd of friends. Literally. It helped me feel protected, but it was still exhausting. The worst was if I had to use a public restroom, so I avoided it. If Mike or someone else was along, they could go in and make sure that there was nobody lying in wait, though how anyone would predict my bladder functions precisely enough to ambush me was not clear. Then the hired muscle would guard the door so I could take a piss in quiet. Otherwise, the guard insisted on accompanying me, I had to use a stall and he would stand guard outside of it. Yuck. My parents had suggested more than once that I come back to New York, but I refused. I told them I couldn’t cave to the bullies because it would weaken our legal case, but of course the real reason was I didn’t want to – actually couldn’t – leave Mike and my friends. I still had the occasional nightmare (though fewer of them as the weeks went on), and having someone next to me in bed who understood made all the difference. And Mike and I would usually have sex if one of my nightmares woke us, which was a nice side benefit. “I warn you counselor, I will not extend this trial indefinitely,” the exasperated female judge said, bringing me back to the dreary courtroom. “You may have until March 1st, but that is the final continuance that I will grant,” she said severely. She banged her gavel and everyone filed out of the courtroom. March!?! Oh, fuck. I grimaced at Uncle Jeffy, and he returned it. “I’m sorry Darren. Let me take you out for some lunch.” We left with the bodyguard to my right, Uncle Jeffy, with his protective hand on my back, to my left; Christopher, the associate, a stocky, guy with a rugby player’s build, who had probably been chosen partly so that he could double as security followed. I sighed and steeled myself to deal with the pack of reporters waiting in front of the courthouse. My mom had been writing about the case in her column, trying to run interference, but otherwise coverage was mixed. It had been decided that I was to say nothing to the press, that Uncle Jeffy or his associate would do the talking. “Mr. Ward,” said Anne Conway, a pushy blonde anchor that I recognized from the local news channel, “do you have any comment to make about today’s proceedings?” and then she shoved the microphone in Uncle Jeffy’s face. “The defense is unnecessarily stalling the proceedings and prolonging the pain not just for my clients, but for the entire community.” “Thank you. Now, Mr. Leibowitz, do you have anything to say regarding the allegations that you are quite promiscuous and…” “The lead plaintiff is not on trial,” thundered Uncle Jeffy. “His conduct is neither relevant nor germane to this case, and these unsubstantiated allegations are simply another tactic – a particularly underhanded tactic, I would add – to influence the outcome of these proceedings.” Ms. Conway’s eyes glowed, sensing she’d hit a nerve. “Are you saying that the defense is responsible for the leaked information?” “There is nothing to leak,” Uncle Jeffy maintained. He was sort of right – there was no concrete evidence, but plenty of guys had seen me get gang-banged. Twice. And Uncle Jeffy knew it, but was sticking to his story. “Someone is putting out false information in hopes of muddying the waters around this suit and the criminal trial. We will prove conclusively that my client, among others, was subject to vicious assaults at the hands of the defendants, in which the University, by refusing to investigate in spite of complaints lodged by a student, was complicit.” “But…” Ms. Conway began. “That is all I have to say to you, or any other member of the media,” he said, directing his comments to the other reporters who had gathered around, as Rod began clearing a path down the courthouse steps. Various reporters continued to shout out questions; none of us responded. The lawsuit had seemed like a good idea at the time. ———————— Thanksgiving holiday came a couple of weeks later, which was good. And bad. “I’ll miss you, honey,” Mike whispered as we hugged goodbye late Wednesday morning. He didn’t have any afternoon classes, plus one of his cousins was getting married over the weekend, Mike was a groomsman and needed to be there for the festivities. So he was leaving earlier than I. “It’s only four days,” I said with an assurance I didn’t feel. Mike gave me a lingering, open-mouthed kiss. “I wish we could spend it together. The hardest part will be dinner tomorrow. We always have to say what we’re most thankful for, and I want to say ‘Darren Leibowitz’, but I can’t.” I was deeply touched and swallowed hard. “You can think it, they can’t police your thoughts. And I’ll tell everyone in New York that I’m most thankful to have Michael Prescott in my life, along with the love of family and friends.” He grinned. “That last one is good, I’m going to use it.” We kissed again and then Ike was at the door. “Mike, you’re going to miss your flight and make all of us late, we have to go now.” “Travel safe,” I said and accompanied him out the front door and down the steps that led from the verandah to the waiting car, not wanting to let go yet. “Call or text me when you can.” “I will. And be careful, sweetheart, and do whatever your security guard tells you to do. Make sure you stay close to Carlos. He’ll enjoy it if nothing else,” Mike teased. I smiled, and we shared one last hasty kiss. Then I was waving goodbye, watching until Ike’s car had disappeared. “What the hell are you doing out here alone?” Carlos demanded, coming up behind me. I jumped a little, startled, then rolled my eyes. “There’s no one around – see for yourself,” I said gesturing around the front yard, not bothering to hide my irritation. “Yeah, well, you were not on your guard. I saw you jump when I spoke.” I sighed. “Look, I was just saying goodbye. This is virtually the first time I’m going to be away from everyone since I got here last August. Could you cut me a little slack if I’m kind of distracted?” Carlos put a beefy arm around me and all but forcibly walked me back inside. “Baby, you can’t get distracted for a minute while you’re here. And you should take your guard with you to New York…” “That’s ridiculous,” I said flatly, interrupting him as we walked up the steps. “The poor man needs to spend the holiday with his family, not trail around after me in New York. I’ll be at home in a huge city, lost in the crowd. My parent’s home phone number and address are unlisted. And you’re traveling through New York to go to DC to see your parents, so I’ll have serious muscle with me on the flight home,” I finished, flattering him outrageously. “True that. Maybe we could join the mile-high club on the flight,” Carlos said, letting his hand stray down to squeeze my butt. I couldn’t help but laugh. “On those teeny commuter jets, you’ll barely fit in the one restroom on your own.” “But think of how much fun we could have trying.” I gave up on logic. “I have to get to anthropology class. Are you coming with me?” “You know it.” “Let’s get moving, I don’t want to be late.” That night, after a dinner of take-out Chinese food with Carlos and the rather taciturn Rod, I packed for my trip. The rest of the frat members had already left for the holiday, so my bodyguard was spending the night in the living room on the couch, even though a burglar alarm and security cameras had recently been installed. I’d offered to put him up in one of the empty rooms, but he insisted that he needed to be on guard downstairs. “Are you going to pack your whole closet?” Carlos said incredulously as he watched me fill my suitcase. “Just because I like to be prepared doesn’t mean I’m packing my whole closet. Not everyone can get by on two pairs of jeans and four tight t-shirts. I don’t have your muscles, so I’ve got to make up for it somehow.” He grinned at my compliment, then said “At least it’s fun watching you.” “You have a weird idea of fun,” I answered, focusing on the shirt I was packing, folding it carefully to minimize wrinkling. “Your butt looks cute when bend over to put something in the suitcase.” I looked at him over my shoulder. “You have a one-track mind, you know that? Do you ever think about anything but sex?” After pantomiming deep thought, Carlos said, “Hmm…nope. Especially when you’re around.” “Someone’s looking to get laid,” I said as I put in the last few things in my bag. “Why did you think I volunteered to leave on Thanksgiving Day instead of leaving earlier?” “Because you care about me and didn’t want me to be alone with only my bodyguard for company?” “There’s that, too,” he said as he knelt beside me and pressed a kiss on the back of my neck. “Just a minute, I’m not done. I have another suitcase to pack,” I said, completely deadpan. “You’ll have to deal with only having one,” Carlos said as he turned me towards him and kissed me on the mouth, deeply, then started kissing my neck as he lowered me to the floor. I gasped, and said “I’ll make do somehow.” My arms were around his shoulders, and I moved restlessly, wrapping my legs around his waist. Carlos stood, carried me to the bed, and gently placed me on my back, then slowly lowered himself on top of me while kissing my neck tenderly, but still hitting every hot spot. I squirmed in his arms and he returned to kissing my lips, our mouths wide open, tongues wrestling, thrusting against one another, heating up, but always with that undercurrent of tenderness. I clung to him, and felt the answering pressure of his arms around me. “What, baby?” he murmured against my ear. “I wish we could all be together for the holiday,” I sighed. “I know it’s dumb, it’s only four days, but I’m going to miss everybody. I’m even going to miss Rod, and he’s barely said two words to me.” Carlos laughed, propped himself on his elbows, and brushed my hair back, off of my face. “And how do you always fucking know if I’m a little worried or something?” “Because I know you, baby. What did I tell you the first day we met?” I rolled my eyes and sighed. “I think too much.” “Very good, buen chico. You think too much,” Carlos said, lightly tapping the middle of my forehead with his forefinger in time to his words. “I can’t help it, it’s congenital,” I said irritably. “Just relax, baby. Enjoy the moment…” he whispered, and then was claiming my lips in another searing kiss. I could feel his dick hardening through the thin work-out pants he was wearing, and I pushed up against him as he pushed me down into the mattress. “I want you to fuck me,” I said. “Damn, you didn’t get enough from Mike this morning before he left?” he teased. “We can hear you, you know.” “Really? How, over the racket you and Aiden make?” I said sweetly. “Smart ass,” he growled. “I thought that’s the part you liked best about me. Didn’t you just tell me to ‘enjoy the moment’?” We went back to kissing; I was running my hands through the short black silk of his hair, caressing the back of his neck, the skin smooth under my fingers. I could feel the weight of his muscular body pinning me in place; he tasted of himself and toothpaste and mouthwash. Then he was pulling back, but I tightened my arms around him and murmured “No, don’t stop.” “Baby, let me undress you. I want you naked, want to feel your skin,” he said pulling the t-shirt I wore to sleep in over my head. “So soft,” he continued as he stroked my shoulders, and ran his hands down my chest to my drawstring sleep pants and pulled them off of me. I’d put them on after I’d gotten ready for bed before packing, knowing I’d be taking them off sooner rather than later. Then he was throwing off his own t-shirt and workout pants; his immense dick was already fully erect, practically vibrating. He lay back down on top of me, and I pushed up to meet him; he groaned as his hard dick probed my smooth, soft skin. I moved under him, rubbing against his rigid dick, which started to leak pre-cum. “Hold still, baby, you’re gonna make me cum,” he moaned. “Then get inside me now, I want it,” I insisted. Carlos reached over to the nightstand and took a glob of Vaseline and rubbed it over his dick, snorting as he came close to shooting his load all over my chest. Then he was probing my asshole with a well-lubed finger, getting me open and ready. I was wriggling and humping myself on his finger. “Please…” I begged. “Now.” He took my legs over his shoulders and pressed his huge cockhead against my butt – the head completely filled my anus – and began to push inside of me. My back arched and I felt his lips on my chest and neck, and felt his balls pressed against me as he sank his dick all the way inside of me. Then he pulled almost all the way out with agonizing deliberation and pushed back in just as slowly. “Harder, faster. Fuck me, goddamn it,” I rasped. “But I’m so close, baby, I’ll shoot right away,” he said, keeping himself buried inside of my tight butt, pushing my thighs to my chest and kissing my neck, cocooning us together. I could smell his perspiration mixed with the citrusy soap he used, a heady odor that wasn’t at all unpleasant. It must have been natural pheromones or something. I squeezed my sphincter and he groaned and shuddered. Almost, I thought. “We’ve got all night,” I said. “Remember you told me that you wanted to fuck me over and over? Now’s our chance.” Then I reached down and stroked his ball sack; he let out a little shout and began pounding me, slamming his dick in and out of my ass. I could hear the rhythmic slap of his thighs against my butt and the pressure built inside me, too. I began matching his rhythm, every stroke bringing us closer to orgasm. “I want your charged seed in my butt…breed me,” I whispered. “Oh, baby, take me, take it all, take my dirty leche, gonna fill you up,” he growled as he rammed against me. And then it was on us simultaneously like the proverbial fireworks or a thunderstorm, the intense pleasure sweeping over us leaving us sodden and gasping in its wake. Carlos was panting, which made me smile smugly, until I realized I was panting, too. “That was awesome, baby,” Carlos said, easing back so my legs rested around his hips, but left his still-hard dick inside of me. I just smiled, and stretched. “Let’s do it again.” I felt his dick twitch inside of me, and he was taking my legs over his shoulders, and began to move again. We found our rhythm quickly and in short order had climaxed. “Good thing I saved up a few days, took a lot of vitamin E and some Viagra,” he said. “It’s going to be so hot being on the jet together knowing that your cum is inside of me,” I said and squeezed him again. “Damn, now I’m gonna be horny on the flight,” he said. “Then I’ll have to totally drain you tonight,” I replied, and reached between us to stroke his dick, ass and balls. All in all, I got six loads out of him before we both were finally too tired to keep going and just cuddled together and fell asleep.

Another great chapter...I like that he's thinking it through, even if the conclusion is inevitable, I suppose. Not a step to be taken lightly.

Next chapter...enjoy. ________________________________ Chapter 16) A Friday late afternoon, weeks later, I sat in the window seat of Mike’s and my room, staring out at the blazing fall foliage in the autumnal light, watching the first few leaves begin to drift off the trees. It would be winter soon…and I felt bored, restless. Aimless, like I didn’t know what to do with myself. I’d read ahead in my anthropology text and Western civilization text, and I didn’t feel like reading more, not even a mystery novel or a fashion website. My midterm papers were already written, and I was all caught up on my English assignments and trigonometry class. With Carlos’ help, math made sense for the first time in my life. I was even considering taking calculus to fill out my math/science requirements, something that would have been unthinkable in high school. I’d gotten As and Bs, but a lot of it was just rote memorization. Now I felt as if I had an actual grasp on what I was learning, that some new synapses had grown. Maybe it was the result of getting fucked on a regular basis? I was listening to some of my favorite music, Beethoven, Haydn and Chopin, which perversely made me feel…what was the word? Sad? Not quite…melancholy, that was it. I knew music could affect my emotions, told myself to switch over to some Top 40 or the obscure European dance music I liked, but I didn’t feel in the mood for that either. I could feel the slight chill through the window – the house was drafty – so I’d borrowed one of Mike’s hoodies to wear, doubly comforting because it smelled like him. I leaned back closed my eyes, inhaled Mike’s scent and hummed along with the recording playing over my earbuds. A soft kiss on my cheek startled me, and my eyes popped open to see Mike grinning at me. I pulled out my earbuds. “Hey, Michaelicious,” I said. “Hey back, honey. Scoot over.” When I sat up and started to move to my right, he said, “No, stay in the same position, just move forward so that I can slip in,” I did as he asked, and then he was pulling me back against him. One of his legs stayed braced on the floor – there wasn’t really enough room, it was a tight fit. But nice to have Mike wrapped around me, better than just a hoodie. I kissed and nuzzled his right hand before settling my head comfortably on his chest. “You okay?” he asked. “Sure, I’m fine. Why?” “You look a little down, and I’ve seen you sitting like this a lot lately.” “I’ve always wanted a window seat.” “Uh-huh,” he said with affectionate skepticism. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready.” I made a face. “I don’t what to do with myself.” Mike pulled me back against him, “I can think of a few things…” “No, not that. Even though I love being with you. I mean what am I going to do with my life?” “Finish school, get a job like the rest of us?” Mike offered. “Get a job doing what? I haven’t declared a major. I like my classes well enough, but nothing jumps out at me as a career.” “I thought you’d be a lawyer or a journalist. You’ve got a great way with words, and win almost every argument. I should know,” he said and kissed the top of my head. “Ugh, anything but either of those. If I go into law or become any kind of writer I’ll always be either ‘Ken Leibowitz’ boy’ or ‘Mimi Sachs’ son.’ Everything I do will be compared to them.” He held me for a few minutes, stroking my arms. “Well, you still have time to figure things out. You’re only 18.” I sighed, dissatisfied. “We need to cheer you up. Why don’t I get the guys together, and we’ll…” I interrupted, “Could we just have a date night? The two of us? I’ve hardly dated, I’d like to try it.” “Sure. Why didn’t you say anything before?” I shrugged. “Didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.” “They won’t be hurt. The others have one-on-one dates, why not us? What do you want to do?” “Nothing fancy. Pizza and a movie? Maybe ice cream afterwards…and then of course come back here and…you know.” “Sounds like a plan.” Mike worked hard to be amusing and funny, and that underlined the problem. The pizza was pretty good, we had my obligatory movie snack of M&Ms during the film and I got a triple scoop of ice cream (chocolate, coffee and vanilla with chocolate sauce). And I enjoyed being alone with him someplace other than in bed. The movie was engrossing, making me forget for a little while how…oh, all right, how depressed I felt. Maybe it was the aftershocks of everything else that had happened? The court case was currently stalled as both sides filed motions and counter-motions, argued about venue for the trial and various other issues. Mike had borrowed Ike’s car, and as we drove back after finishing up the ice cream, he said, “Feeling any better, honey?” “Yeah, thanks.” I paused a minute. “When we were in the middle of everything at the beginning of the semester, I had a purpose. I was going to take down Daddy Scorpio and his friends so that we could figure out how we wanted to be with each other and just what Alpha Iota Delta Sigma should be. By the way, I still think we should change that fucking name. I mean A.I.D.S – hello? Anyway, I didn’t have much time to think about anything else.” “What do you mean?” Mike asked. “I hadn’t planned on coming here, I hadn’t even applied. When I didn’t get into Yale, out of nowhere Mom and Dad said that they didn’t want me to stay in New York, then Dad gave me his speech about his needing to show confidence in this place. That eliminated the schools in New York where I’d been accepted. Dad used his connections here to get me in at the last minute, technically after the deadline. Meeting you was the best thing that happened to me after I got here.” Mike smiled broadly. “Of course it was.” I rolled my eyes. “Not that you’re biased or anything. Now it’s just the grind of school work,” I continued “which is going fine. But that doesn’t feel like enough. In New York I had all kinds of extracurricular activities, all in the name of getting in some fancy college and then that didn’t happen. It’s weird to have too much time on my hands – that’s not the problem most freshmen have.” “Darr, you’ve been through a ton of shit, it won’t kill you to relax. There are worse things than not having enough to do. Or than not being totally over-scheduled is what it sounds like to me.” “I suppose so,” I sighed not really convinced. That had been the norm among my Manhattanite peers. We were all hyper-competitive, compulsive over-achievers. “You’ve already decided what you’re doing, right?” Mike thought a minute. “It’s totally bizarre that we’ve spent so much time together and never asked each other ‘what’s your major’? I planned on doing pre-med, but after getting HIV didn’t think it was a good idea.” “Why not?” “For one thing, how many people want to risk contracting an infection if I fuck up and somehow prick myself with a needle and infect them? For another, it didn’t seem like a good idea to be in medical settings where I could catch all kinds of stuff since I’m immune-compromised. And then I realized that the majority of body fluids make me nauseated.” “That last one would pretty much rule out anything but psychiatry, I suppose. So what are you thinking of doing now?” “I like science, was thinking about pharmaceutical research developing drugs. But I also took the LSATs last spring and did really well. After watching your uncle…” “We’re not really related,” I interjected. Mike sighed. “Fine, whatever. Watching him made me think that I’d like to do something with law. Maybe international law or working with victims of trafficking or abuse.” I felt a twisting in my gut. “Where are you going to apply?” “For sure the law school here, but my scores and grades are good enough, I might try University of Pennsylvania or Columbia University, maybe even Yale.” I wanted him to do well, but I didn’t want to be separated. If he went to Columbia I could visit him during school holidays, except that he’d probably be away visiting his family. U Penn? If Yale wouldn’t have me, I doubt U Penn would either. And Yale? Fuggedaboutit. They’d made it clear, ivy-league material I’m not. Mike parked Ike’s car, we got out and started up the steps. Just before we went in the door, he took me in his arms and said “I hope you kiss on the first date.” That made me laugh, and I said with mock-seriousness, “I don’t want you think I’m easy.” He pressed his mouth against mine, and we shared our first official post-date kiss. “C’mon, let’s go upstairs,” he said wiggling his eyebrows. “See, I knew you’d think I was easy.” “You’re not easy,” Mike said as we walked in. “Oh?” He grabbed me, pushed me up against the door, and gave me a kiss that left me gasping. “You’re the cutest guy I’ve ever met.” What could I do but smile at him? “And I’m totally irresistible,” he finished. “Not that you’re biased or anything,” I said yet again. Mike gave me a grin that could only be described as devilish, and hoisted me over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “Hey!” I exclaimed laughing. “This is what I wanted to do when you first walked in to the house,” he said as he went up the stairs. “Really, it’s what I wanted to do when we first talked at orientation.” I was giggling. “So it would have been, ‘Hi, nice to meet you, let’s fuck?’” “Just about,” Mike said, and smacked my butt. He carried me into our bedroom, set me down, and lit a few candles. Then he took a bottle of white wine out of the mini-fridge I’d brought with me, produced a couple of wine glasses, uncorked the bottle, and poured us each a glass full. He handed me mine, and we clinked glasses. “To the most beautiful guy I’ve ever met,” he said. “To my irresistible boyfriend,” I answered, and we sipped wine together. “Why don’t we get comfortable?” Mike said, taking the glass of wine from me and setting it alongside his on the night stand. Then he started unbuttoning my shirt; once he had it open all the way, he slid his hands inside and caressed my torso, pulling me close for a wet, open-mouthed kiss, trailing kisses over my jaw and to my real erogenous zone: my neck. He slowly stripped the shirt off of me, then pushed me back on the bed to pull my shoes off, followed by my jeans and underwear. He shrugged out of his flannel shirt and toed off his running shoes, but when he started to unbuckle his belt, I said “Let me. Please?” He grinned. “Whatever you want, honey.” I sat at the edge of the bed, and pressed my face against his hardening dick, gently biting, then sniffing, kissing and licking. Mike groaned gutturally, and pulled my head more securely against him. Then he released my head and slowly turned around, pushing his ass in my face. “Worship it, Darr, worship my ass.” I was more than happy to; after having done it with Carlos, I’d fantasized about doing it with Mike. I’d worried he’d think it was too weird, but apparently that wasn’t the case. I pressed my face against the soft, worn denim that covered his butt and inhaled loudly. “That’s it sweetheart, inhale…deep,” Mike demanded. His musky scent filled my nostrils, and excited me even more than I already was. My dick was rock-hard. “Do you like it?” he asked. I moaned in response. “Now kiss it…let me hear you,” he ordered. After a minute of that, he turned around and rubbed his bulge against my face. “See what you’ve done to me? Kiss my cock, now my balls.” I did as ordered. Mike unzipped his jeans; it turned out he’d gone commando. His huge, hard cock sprang out as soon as he’d opened his zipper. I kissed and licked the shaft and his balls, pushing his jeans down, so he could step out of them. I kept going, running my lips and tongue over his crotch, behind his balls, and then buried my face in his butt, sniffing, kissing, licking. Mike reached around and pulled my head against his butt and moved his hips as if he were already thrusting inside of me. Then he was turning around, pulling me to my feet and then we were falling onto the bed with him on top, our mouths fused. He was impatiently pushing my legs apart, pulling my right leg over his shoulder while I wrapped the left one around his waist. He grabbed the ever-present jar of Vaseline, lubed himself and me and pushed inside my welcoming asshole. He pulled back slowly and then thrust with exquisite deliberation, angling his dick so that he was massaging my prostate. I groaned into his mouth, and he answered with a groan of his own. I joined in his rhythm, pushing up towards him as he thrust in, pulling back a little as he pulled out. He smelled of the sandalwood soap and shampoo he used. I could feel the delicate rasp of his whiskers against my face, neck and chest as he kissed and licked my shoulders. I kissed and licked his biceps, let my hands stray over his back and butt to feel the muscles working. We tasted and touched and kissed and caressed, stoking the heat that grew between us. “I want to make every time as good for you as it for me,” he whispered breathlessly, “but I don’t think anything could feel as good as your ass does around my cock.” I smiled and covered his face and neck with kisses. “Harder,” I murmured. He began to thrust more strongly, and then hit the most sensitive spots on my neck, right next to my Adam’s apple. “Sweetheart,” he groaned, “it’s probably all wrong, but one of the things that turns me on the most is that I’m fucking you raw and you’re negative and I’m positive…it’s like taking your virginity whenever we fuck.” The poz talk unleashed my not-so-inner cumslut. “Fill me, breed me, don’t stop,” I demanded. “I need your charged cum inside of me.” He was driving his cock into me, impaling me with his huge, hard, veiny dick, and began to grunt with each thrust. I felt the buzz of my climax start, but couldn’t locate the exact place: was it my ass or my dick? Then he rammed into me three times hard, his dick spasmed inside of me and I knew he was coating my insides with his dirty cum as I shot my own load, hitting myself in the face as always. He pulled back and licked the cum off my face. “You taste so sweet. That’s why I call you ‘honey’,” he said. I chuckled, hugging him closer. “And you’re my Michaelicious.” We were both still panting, the aftershocks of orgasm echoing through us as we relaxed. Mike slipped carefully out of my butt, reached for the wine and grabbed a bag of chocolates from the nightstand drawer: dark chocolate with raspberry, my favorite. Unwrapping one and feeding it to me, Mike then took one for himself. Sipping wine and eating chocolate: the ultimate in sybaritic indulgence. “This is what I wish our first time together had been,” he said, “you, me, candles and romance.” We kissed again; I could taste chocolate mixed with wine and Mike. The discontent I’d felt earlier hadn’t quite gone, but it was pushed to the background. What did it matter, really? I had Mike, and right now that was enough.

Decisions, decisions. Another hot chapter...

(B)readers, working on next chapter. Thanks to all who have liked posts, friended me and posted replies. Views are nearly at 25,000!

Great scenario...really good writing. And an evil and twisted fantasy on top of it!

New chapter...a mix of hot and sweet. Enjoy! Chapter 15) “Hey, sleeping beauty,” a familiar voice whispered in my ear. “Are we keeping you awake?” “Huh?” I said coming out of my light doze, stretching and yawning. I was still straddling Aaron who was blinking sleepily himself, so I wasn’t the only one who nodded off. There were hands on my torso, first stroking and rubbing the skin gently, then teasing my nipples; a pair of lips were delicately kissing my neck. I shivered, moaned with delight and said. “You are now, Ike.” “Busted,” he said, and pulled me to stand upright so he could press his hard dick against me. I turned to face him and our lips met; his hands went to my ass, squeezing and kneading the muscles gently. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” he began. “Is this really the time for formal introductions?” I asked. Ike grinned. “You’ll want to meet this guy. And he wants to meet you, both with an ‘e’ and an ‘a’.” I rolled my eyes at this corny joke, but was willing to ignore it when another guy stepped up next to him and joined Ike in exploring my ass. He was big, as in tall, as in I wasn’t sure if I was even as tall as one of his legs. Leanly muscled, with nicely developed biceps and pecs, plus a killer set of abs. When I got a good look at his face (angular, with great cheekbones and a soul patch) he looked faintly familiar. “This is my man Jamal,” Ike said. “He was a member of the frat…” That was the moment the fog cleared. “Wait a minute – aren’t you a pro basketball player? And didn’t you get a Leibowitz scholarship?” Both of them looked surprised, which confirmed to me I was right. “Wow, what a memory,” said Jamal, not seeming entirely comfortable. “It can be our little secret I said,” smiling. “Ask anyone here, I know when to keep my mouth shut. And when to open it…” Jamal bent over – nearly in half it seemed – to land an open-mouthed kiss, so my flirtatious invitation had worked. He broke it off, and I kissed Ike, tongues tangling. Then Jamal was pulling me against him, and pushing me back on to the sofa, which Aaron had vacated. I spotted him with Carlos, standing on line to bang Larry again. Jamal was between my legs and I could feel he had a huge dick. I reached around to stroke him and he groaned, and started to push my thighs against my chest. “Hey, man, don’t just dick him,” Ike said. “You gotta try the full package. He’s got a sweet mouth, sucks and licks dick, balls and ass, and just loves to have a guy sit on his face. If you hold off a little, his butt will open right up, but still squeeze the jizz right out of your balls. Never felt anything quite like it.” Jamal looked at Ike, then looked at me. I nodded, encouraging him; he stood and braced himself on one knee with his dick pointing at my mouth. It was long, uncut and very thick, with a huge head. And about all I could get in my mouth was the head and a little of the shaft. I felt Ike stroking my butt hole, then his mouth replaced his fingers as he used his lips and tongue to open me up for his buddy’s monstrous cock. I started licking at Jamal’s dick, up the front of his shaft, then both sides, using my lips and tongue while he moaned and encouraged me. “That’s it, bitch, lick that big, black dick, get it wet.” I worked down to his balls and Jamal moaned, “Oh, yeah, lick those nuts, get me going so my dick can spit that dirty milk inside your hole.” He turned around and sat on my face, saying “That’s it pussy, enjoy that big, black ass. Get your nose in the crack, sniff out my black butt. Damn, your nose feels really good in there, fits just right. Inhale that funky black man’s hole, deep,” he ordered. His musky odor filled my nostrils and lungs. I licked behind his balls, and he pushed his smooth, muscled ass into my face harder, rocked his hips, then moved his butthole over my mouth. “Eat me. Lick it, eat those chocolate buns. Use your mouth and lips, bitch, get me hot so I can fuck you hard. White boy’s butt needs my big black dick.” He was so into using me that I was getting just as turned on as he was, if not more. Ike had his tongue inside of me, fucking my ass, getting it wet and open. “Oh, man, I’m getting too close,” Jamal said, standing. Pre-cum dripped from the tip of his dick onto my chest. “Gotta fuck you now.” Ike moved out of the way, handed a jar of Vaseline to Jamal, who put a little on my ass, then more on his cock as he was pulling my legs over his shoulders. He started to push his cock inside of me, and I gasped and flinched. Even with all the foreplay and previous fucking, this was going to be a major challenge. Jamal’s dick was like a steel girder, big and hard. “C’mon, let me in,” Jamal said. “I want to get you knocked up with my jizz, give you my black HIV babies.” He wouldn’t let up even as I involuntarily pulled back a little, pulled me against him and pushed through all resistance until his dick had breached both sphincters. “Oh, yeah,” he groaned. “Ike, you weren’t shitting me, this is one incredible piece of pussy. I just love to fuck little white boy ass,” he said as he started thrusting in and out. “Ike, make him worship your ass, I want to see him do it while I fuck him.” Ike sat on the arm of the sofa with his back towards Jamal, and positioned his fuzzy butt over my face. His ass hovered over my nose, so I pressed against him and sniffed loudly, then he was moving so that his asshole was pressed against my mouth, and I started to lick and kiss his butt. “That’s it, eat my buddy Ike,” Jamal said, his thrusts picking up speed and force. “I love watching you eat that black man’s ass, get that tongue in there, make him hot so he can fuck you next…oh, yeah, OH, YEAH, I’M SHOOTING INSIDE YOU, TAKE THAT BLACK SPUNK IN YOUR TIGHT, WHITE CUNT!” Jamal was slamming against me; my ass had relaxed, and he was hitting my prostate at just the right angle and I started to cum just as he did. That made Jamal shout, “THAT ASS IS MILKING ME, IT WANTS ALL OF MY SPERM!” He kept himself buried inside of me while the orgasm worked through him, shuddering with pleasure. When he finally was still, he began to pull out. “Ike, you’re up next. And why don’t I go get the other brothers for a little black-on-white gang bang.” Ike got up to position himself, and Jamal leaned over and kissed me again. “You have one hot little hole, I’m going to have to fuck you again before I leave.” As Ike was pushing himself inside me, Ruhiu, the tall, lanky guy who was a runner joined us, then knelt over my face. “Lick me,” he ordered, and I happily complied, tickling and stroking his balls while I licked his ass. I could feel Ike’s excitement; I swore that as soon as Ruhiu sat on my face, Ike’s dick got harder, and he began to thrust with more force in and out of my ass. “How’s his ass feel?” Ruhiu asked. “Unbelievable,” Ike gasped. “He’s got a big load in there from Jamal, and now he’s about to get one…from….ME” he roared as he banged against me harder and faster, then gave three, short, sharp thrusts and froze, groaning with pleasure. I could feel his dick spasm inside of me, then hold still. Ruhiu turned and said, “Lick that dick, then I’m going to dump some real African spunk in your ass.” Ike pulled out, and Ruhiu was taking his place. His dick was long, straight, and cut, not quite as thick as Jamal or Ike, so he slid inside me easily and started fucking me. Howard, who had a pronounced Caribbean accent, knelt so that his cock was at my mouth. He was shorter but very muscular, bulging pecs and biceps, and wore a goatee. He grinned widely as I opened my mouth and took as much of his dick as I could: the perfectly shaped mushroom head and a few inches of the shaft. He fucked my face, and his dick got hard rapidly; I could taste his pre-cum, and then he was pulling out. “I want to cum in your ass, mon,” he said. “Take a taste of my balls,” he ordered and put them against my lips. I licked obediently, and he groaned. “Like my sweaty balls in your face? Sniff them, yeah, that’s it boy, now my ass,” and he turned around and pushed his round, muscular ass cheeks in my face. “You like that, like how my ass smells?” “Oh, yeah,” I moaned. “Then kiss it for me, nice little kisses right in the middle of the hole, show me you love obeying me.” I started peppering the kisses right on the tight knot of his asshole as he asked, then slipped a little tongue between my lips. Carlos loved that, so I figured Howard would too. “Oh, yeah, use the tongue, lick me, taste that asshole. You like dark chocolate ass, I can tell, stick your tongue inside. That’s it, fuck yeah, mon.” Ruhiu was banging harder, I could tell he was about to spurt his load inside of me. “So hot watching you eat that black man’s ass,” Ruhiu said. “Take that dick, bitch, here it comes, my big…AFRICAN LOAAAAD!” he shouted as he rammed against me and froze in place, still moaning. I could hear him sucking in air, and then he pulled out. Howard said, “Roll over, I like to fuck boys lying on their stomach so I can see my dick tear open the asshole.” I did as he asked, and felt the pressure of his big, fat head going inside me, followed by his thick shaft. Then he started pumping, and said “Beautiful to watch my dick opening you up. I can feel all that black cum in your ass, we’re gonna get you knocked up with black HIV babies. You can be my white cum slut, my baby mama…oh….oh yeah….HERE IT CUMS, ANOTHER LOAD OF BLACK SPUNK, FILLING YOU UP. TAKE IT IN YOUR WHITE PUSSY HOLE!” Howard collapsed on top of me; I worked my ass to squeeze him, and he wrapped his arms around me and rammed against me, kissing and licking the back of my neck. He pulled out, then slapped my butt and said, “Love that white boy-cunt.” I sat up and said “Love your big, black dick.” “I’m back,” said Jamal, “for seconds.” I snickered and rolled my eyes. I was on my back, and he pulled my legs over his shoulders, slid his dick in without trouble and started fucking. “It was so hot watching you get nailed by the other three brothers,” he said, his thrusts speeding up. “I can’t hold back…gotta shoot…now! Uh-aah,” he groaned, and then his mouth closed over mine as he emptied himself in me. “Phew,” he said once his heart rate had slowed to normal, and shook his head. He pulled out, then lay on top of me and kissed me some more. “Man, if you were here when I was still in this frat, I would have made you mine.” At my inquiring look he elaborated, “I was prefect my senior year. It was Mike, Carlos and Ike’s first year. I could tell even then that Mike was going to end up top of this heap. He just had that leader vibe thing going on.” We kissed a little more, then he glanced at the time. “Shit, I gotta go to my hotel and get some sleep. Got a long drive tomorrow and a big game on Sunday.” “I’ll root for you,” I said. “Any way you could come back with me for a couple days…?” I looked over and saw Mike in line to bang Larry. Jamal followed my gaze. “It’s like that, huh?” Jamal asked. “All relationships are open…” I began. “But he’s special to you, I can tell. And I bet you’re special to him. Oh, well. Can I come to the next party?” “Sure. I’m the Social Director, just give me your cell phone number and I’ll text you.” “Ike has it, get it from him.” “Sleep tight, I said as he pulled on his clothes. “And drive carefully.” He flashed a grin at me as he left. Aiden sat next to me, put his arm around me and I rested my head on his shoulder. “Great party, Mr. Social Director,” he said. “Having fun?” I asked. “Every minute,” he answered as he ran his hand up and down my arm. “Your little gang bang was a high point.” I laughed. “You enjoy watching? I didn’t know that about you.” “Not just anybody – I enjoy watching you,” he said, slipping his arm around my waist to pull me even closer while planting a kiss on my forehead. I turned my head and we were kissing, shifting to face one other. “Warning,” I said. “I’m in full bottom mode tonight.” He grinned. “That works. I’m in the mood to top tonight.” Our lips met again, and the kiss deepened. Jamal was right and wrong. I did feel differently about Mike, and sometimes – all right, a lot – wished that it could be just us. But I felt a strong attachment to my other close friends here, Aiden and Aaron, Ike and Carlos. They’d been the ones to literally feed me and protect me during the first few days when it wasn’t clear what would happen, and then stopped Daddy Scorpio from strangling me. We’d been through something profound together: fighting to emancipate this frat. I leaned back and took Aiden with me; he was on top, and I ran my hands down his back to his body-builder’s butt, angling my hips to rub against his dick. “You have an incredible body,” I murmured. “Right back at you…love your tight little body,” he said. “You’re the right shape, slim waist, nice ass, lean so I can get my dick all the way in.” We kissed more deeply, tongues meeting, twining; he thrust his tongue completely in my mouth, mirroring how his dick would be buried inside me soon. Then he was shifting position, kneeling over my face, pressing his dick against my lips while taking my dick in his mouth. I’d only been in a “69” once before; I’d forgotten what a charge it was to both have a dick in my mouth and be sucked simultaneously. It was as if we were completing a circuit of sexual electricity. After a few minutes of it, Aiden’s mouth was on my balls, licking behind them, and then his tongue was on my ass. He pushed his butt crack against my mouth; I didn’t need any further encouragement and began to rim him. If possible, this was even more of a turn on, my tongue in Aiden’s sweet, clean muscle ass while he was licking and kissing my butt. I was getting so hard it was painful. I stroked Aiden’s dick and balls, and heard and felt his answering groan. He shifted position again so that he was between my legs, taking them over his muscular shoulders and slipping his cock inside me. Eight loads of cum meant I didn’t need any lube at all, and it felt awesome as he started to fuck my ass while he kissed my neck and ears, holding me tightly as I wriggled and squirmed with delight. “Harder,” I panted. “I’m really close. trying to make it last,” he answered. “Are you insane or just a sadist?” I demanded. “Fuck me, we can do it again right away. Or later. It’s not like there’s a limited supply.” Aiden started laughing and said, “You’re nuts…oh, God, the way you wiggle around is making me crazy.” “Let’s up the ante,” I answered, and reached down and stroked his balls, which elicited a gasp. “It gets better,” I whispered while arranging my hand so that my thumb was tickling his nut sack, index finger the region behind his balls (the “taint” as some called it) and my middle finger was stroking his asshole. I’d wanted to try doing that for a while – and the reviews were a rave on my debut. “Oh, yeah, do it, play with my balls…you’re the only one who’s ever touched my ass like that…and I’m cumming!” His thrusts immediately became turbo powered, lancing over my prostate again…and again…and I was shooting with him. I pushed my ass into his crotch more securely while he gasped and snorted. As the aftershocks of the orgasm we’d shared echoed through my nervous system, we both relaxed; I could feel Aiden’s weight as he finished shooting inside of me. “Phew,” Aiden said in my ear. “That was really intense.” “How long has it been since you’ve cum?” I asked. “You’re extra-frisky.” “I saved it up for a couple days,” he murmured, sounding like post-orgasm drowsiness was setting in. “Then you can give me another load,” I said, and reached down, now stroking the sides of his shaft while squeezing and releasing my butt repeatedly. I wanted to see if I could get him fully hard again before he pulled out. “Ahh!’ he exclaimed. “Are you trying to kill me?” “Yes,” I said, playfully seductive, “I’m going to drink you dry.” He tried to pull back, but I’d locked my legs around his waist. We wrestled a bit while I continued to squeeze his dick with my sphincter muscles. We were both laughing, and then he started to tickle me. “No, not fair,” I gasped, as I unsuccessfully tried to stop him, and then gave up. “Okay, you win,” I choked out between giggles. “You don’t have to fuck me again.” He stopped tickling and I realized that he was fully hard again, and starting to pump in and out. “Who says I wanted to win?” He pinned my arms over my head, then his mouth was covering mine, our tongues met and wrestled in imitation of our bodies; he angled his thrusts to press hard on my prostate. I gasped and began to fuck him back with my butt, pushing towards his crotch as he pushed inside me and drawing back as he did, maximizing the sensation for both of us. “I’m gonna…” his groan interrupted his sentence, but from his body language I could fill in the last word, especially since I was cumming myself. He collapsed on top of me; I could feel his heart racing. “That was unbelievable,” he said. “Amen,” I answered. Hours later, about 2:00 AM, the party was pretty much over. Larry had been smuggled out, the former members had left and I’d mobilized the entire frat to help with clean-up. Being the Prefect’s “consort” had its upside. Once that was done, everyone headed off for bed; I noted there’d been some shuffling of partners in keeping with the non-exclusive nature of the relationships between guys in the house. But I was with Mike. We’d yet to spend the night in someone else’s bed since the night after the I’d been raped by the faculty members. Neither of us had bothered to get dressed again; we hung our clothes, put the underwear in our separate laundry bags and then got ready for bed. “Great first party,” Mike said as we slipped under the covers. “Glad you enjoyed yourself,” I answered. “I’m thinking that next time we could just do a movie night, either here or a field trip to an actual movie theater.” “Most of the guys will prefer here,” Mike predicted. “That way they can make out without worrying about who else is in the room.” “Good point, your Prefect-ness.” “Your what?” he said, laughing as we snuggled together, lying on our sides, facing one another. “You’ve got a title, but ‘your highness’ or ‘your majesty’ seem a trace overblown…” “How about…‘boyfriend’?” “Your ‘boyfriend-ness’?” I joked, hiding that I was thrilled and scared at the same time. I guess it was silly, it’s not like we were getting engaged or something. But it was an acknowledgement of the bond between us. “Darren,” he said reproachfully. “Boyfriend,” I said to him, meeting those wonderful, liquid, sherry brown eyes, so distinctive and plain old beautiful. In that, they matched the rest of him, his classic male good looks, and perfect physique – kind of a cross between a body builder and Michelangelo’s David. And he wanted to be with me. I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it. “Boyfriend,” he whispered, then kissed me. And that’s all it took for me to be on fire for him, wanting him, wanting to make love, even though I’d just spent the evening getting fucked at an orgy I’d organized. “You’re so beautiful,” he said after kissing me thoroughl. “You have the prettiest eyes; I can never make up my mind whether they’re blue or green, and that mop of curly blond hair.” He’d kissed my eyes during his inventory of my charms, and was stroking my hair. “Like silk…and your skin, like satin.” The upside of enduring body sugaring every few weeks. Aiden, Aaron and I helped each other with body grooming. “I can’t believe you want to be with me,” he continued, sounding genuinely amazed. “What?” I said, disbelievingly. “You’re like…perfect. My dream guy, the one I thought I’d never meet, just fantasize about.” He smiled broadly, then kissed me again. And again, the melting tenderness morphing into something urgent and needy. He went for my erogenous zones, all of which he seemed to have memorized: ears, jaw, neck, collar bone. I pushed closer, pulling him on top of me; he nudged my legs open, as if choreographed we moved together smoothly. He was taking my legs over his shoulders and pushing inside of me, no need for additional lubrication. We came together in a way that was more than just physical. It had been that way from the start, even before my initiation, before I’d come to the house and spent a blissful half-hour necking in this very bedroom. It was from the moment our eyes had met at the orientation event where he was staffing a booth for the fraternity. And still, I’d never thought we’d end up together, just assumed I’d have yet another unrequited crush. Boy, had I gotten that wrong. He was slowly pushing in and out of me, prolonging every touch, his hands on my shoulders, then in my hair, stroking my face gently, as if I were something fragile and precious and beloved. It was a hunger that would never be completely satisfied, reaching for a perfect union of body and soul. Then appetite took over, and he began to thrust more rapidly, breathing heavily, licking my nipples, going back to my neck, then my lips, his kisses urgent and hard, but still with the melting sweetness I remembered from the first time we’d kissed. His thrusts were getting harder, the bed was squeaking rhythmically along with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh. And there it was, seemingly out of nowhere, a supernova exploding, sending rays of energy racing through me and him as we came to orgasm simultaneously. Our mouths were fused, his dick was buried to the root inside of me and I was clasping his butt, arching my back to give him complete access. We remained frozen in that position for…well, I’m not really sure how long. Time became irrelevant. I can’t remember how many times we made love that night. I just remember feeling as if something had coalesced between us, that a barrier I wasn’t aware of until it had been breached had fallen. And I remember the kisses and caresses, his strong warm hands and muscled body. When we were finally completely exhausted, we lay spooned together, fitting as perfectly as the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Boyfriends, was my last thought before falling asleep in his arms with a smile on my face.

Here's the next installment, another long build-up. Hope it's not a spoiler, but finally: MORE FUCKING! I promise I'll try to keep going...I've got ideas...it just takes longer to get them worked out as the story gets more complex. _________________________________ Chapter 14)“You don’t have to wait with me,” I said. Mike smiled, shrugged and said, “I wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on anything else anyway.” Mike and I were waiting for my parents to arrive; I’d gotten a text from my mom about a half hour ago that their flight had landed. We sat on the porch swing that hung on the verandah in front of the frat house. It was a pleasant day, a little cool, reminding me that soon the trees would be decked out for fall. I had on a black raincoat and a heavy cotton sweater over jeans and purple t-shirt, but I shivered a little and moved closer to Mike, craving the additional body warmth. Among other things. Not being able to fuck with him was pretty much driving me berserk, last night notwithstanding. He casually slipped his arm around my shoulders and I leaned against him; he was in jeans and a white, long sleeved football jersey along with a dark green zippered hoodie. Almost everyone else was either at the library, the gym or class. I wondered if a note from my parents would excuse me from missing the second session of my western civilization class and the first meeting of the anthropology course I’d signed up for. I saw a dark sedan drive slowly up the street and spotted my mom riding shotgun, Dad in the driver’s seat; the car pulled over. I could see Mom was wearing enormous sunglasses. The car doors opened, so we stood and started down the steps to meet them. Mom, brunette, slim and petite, was dressed in what I thought of as her travelling reporter’s outfit: a simple pale blue top, a multi-colored silk scarf at her neck, navy pantsuit, black ankle boots with a modest heel, topped off with a navy trench coat. Dad, fair-haired, tall and lanky but with a slightly soft belly, was in khakis and an olive green suede blazer with an off-white oxford shirt and a pair of coppery brown brogues. “Darren!” my mother exclaimed in a hoarse voice as soon as she saw me. She left Dad in the dust, running towards me as I moved down the front walk to meet her, then nearly strangled me with a hug. I could feel her shoulders shaking slightly, and knew she was crying. “I’m fine,” I said, my own eyes a little wet, at the same time embarrassed by the display of emotion. “But I’m really glad you’re here.” She pulled back, and gently kissed my bruised cheek. “Is that better?” she said, sniffling and dabbing at her eyes behind their concealing shades with a tissue. “Just what I needed, a mother’s kiss.” She hugged me again, as if needing further reassurance that I was really still in once piece and not irreparably damaged. Dad walked slowly, looking tired and upset. The atmosphere felt a little brittle, so I assumed they’d been arguing. But that was nothing new; they’d disagree, pout for a few days and then finally work it out. I hoped this would be as easily resolved, since it seemed like Mom blamed my dad for my situation, at least in part – and she was fiercely protective of me, her only child. Maybe if I actually read her memoir I’d understand her better, but it felt too icky. From what I’d heard there were reproductions of ultrasounds of me, that she went into the gory details of tracking her periods and scheduling sex with Dad, not to mention the whole IVF thing. I hadn’t even known the book existed until I was 14 and some jerk at school found it and used it to make fun of me, reading passages aloud and posting stuff on Facebook until my mom called his mom and got her to take it away from him with generalized talk of starting a new series of articles on schoolyard bullying and the internet. She decided to go ahead with the articles anyway, which I’d always took to mean that the response she got seriously pissed her off. I turned to my father and said, “Thanks for coming.” He did something very unusual for him: he hugged me. “Of course. There shouldn’t have been any question we’d come, I’m sorry.” Hmm. Maybe that hangdog look wasn’t just an argument with Mom. I think he was embarrassed and guilty that he’d dismissed me and forced me to prove to him I hadn’t concocted the whole thing as an excuse to return to New York. And after all that gave work as a reason he couldn’t come when I asked. I wonder what they’d think when I said I wanted to stay if the question even arose. Meeting Mike and Carlos and Aiden and Aaron and Ike had made all the difference. I turned held out my hand to Mike, who was behind me, and drew him forward. “Mom and Dad, this is Mike, my closest friend here…” Before I could continue, my mother said “I recognize you – you’re…aren’t you one of the young men who saved my son?” her voice cracking. Mike looked a little taken aback. “Yeah, but I had help…” he began. My mother launched herself at him and pulled him into the same strangling hug as she had me. Well she was more or less my height so she couldn’t easily reach his neck, but she might have cracked one of his vertebra or dislocated one of his ribs. Mike looked a little startled but returned her embrace, awkwardly patting her on the back. “Thank you,” she sobbed, over and over again. “I read your book,” Mike said. “I know just how important he is to you, and all of us here care about him a lot.” My mother finally relinquished her grasp, calmed herself and began fishing in her shoulder bag for a fresh tissue. I’d come prepared and handed her the little pack of tissue that I’d put in my jacket pocket. She gave me her “oh my baby is so sweet and thoughtful” look. Ick. My father seemed a little more wary, but extended his hand and added his thanks. “You don’t have to thank me, sir,” Mike said with impeccable manners. I guess his born-again Christian family had valued etiquette. “I couldn’t have done anything else. I’m just sorry the whole thing happened and the worry and upset it’s caused you and Mrs. Leibowitz.” “I’m Mimi to you,” she said with a watery smile. Wow, she’d decided she liked him if she was having him use her nickname already, and hadn’t immediately informed him that she’d kept her maiden name. Mom would be on my side, no problems. “Come in,” I invited them. “Where’s your luggage?” “In the car, angel,” my mom said. “We have hotel reservations, but we can check in later. I couldn’t wait to see you,” she said, giving my arm a squeeze. I could see my parents appraising the house as we entered, the slightly battered parquet floor in the entry hall and the communal living room with its worn but comfortable furniture upholstered in brown, beige and yellow plaid, cream colored walls devoid of decoration, threadbare muddy brown carpet, a banged up coffee table and a scattering of mismatched chairs. All the stuff was probably at least 20 or 25 years old. Aiden, in a skin-tight shirt that showed off his muscles (thankfully with a pair of baggy sweat pants) was curled up on the sofa reading, but put down his text book and stood to greet us. I made the introductions, and like clockwork he was offering refreshments. “We have Danish and muffins, coffee, juice, tea, water…?” “We don’t want to interrupt your study time,” my mom said. “Not a problem,” Aiden reassured. It was as if they would starve if he didn’t feed them. Immediately. “Some coffee would be welcome then,” my dad said, looked at my mom for confirmation, and at her nod added, “make it two.” There was a slightly awkward pause as we waited; I motioned for them to have a seat, and they each took one of the two armchairs that made a group with the sofa, where I’d seated myself. Great. Not sitting together and me right in the middle. “Why don’t I go help Aiden,” Mike said, tactfully exiting. I felt like screaming DON’T LEAVE ME YOU COWARD! Tact is overrated. “How was the trip?” I said to fill up the quiet. “Okay,” Dad said. “We were able to get an early flight,” my mother added. “You must be exhausted,” I said. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hotel, or at least lie down?” Attempting to put off the inevitable… “We’re tired, but not sleepy if that makes any sense,” my mom said. I could see that her eyes were red and slightly puffy now that the sunglasses were off. “And we really need to find out…” Dad started. “Here we go,” said Aiden who was carrying a tray with five mugs of coffee, a carton of milk, a box of sugar, some spoons and napkins with the tell-tale Dunkin’ Donuts logo. Mike followed him with boxes of doughnuts and muffins. I assumed that this was courtesy of Daddy Scorpio or another of the Gang of Five. Saved by the coffee service. Phew! It isn’t that I didn’t want to talk to them. I just wasn’t quite ready and especially didn’t want to do it alone. The next few minutes were taken up with coffee preferences and selecting something to eat. That my mom unbent enough to eat a blueberry muffin, the closest thing to the healthy fare she mandated at home, told me that she was pretty fatigued. I felt a pang; maybe I shouldn’t have insisted that they immediately come here, it could have waited. But that wasn’t true – we had to get ahead of the curve. If we delayed those slippery bastards would figure out a way to stonewall the entire thing. Now was the time to strike, while they were scared, disorganized and hopefully hadn’t yet contacted the university president or the dean or whoever and put their own spin on everything that had happened. After we’d all sipped coffee and nibbled at muffins or Danish for a few minutes in silence, my Dad said “We need to talk about what happened, Darren. And find out just what the hell is going on…” His voice had gotten progressively louder and more agitated. “Ken, darling,” my mother interrupted. “We agreed that we’d speak about this calmly.” “I’m calm,” he grumbled. “Not if you’re already starting to shout and curse.” “I wasn’t shouting,” he said irritably. “Maybe Aiden and I should leave you alone,” Mike said. “No!” I exclaimed immediately. I answered my father’s thousand yard stare (he could give hardened prison inmates a run for their money) by saying “They’re my friends and this involves them, too. So we can talk while they’re here.” The trick with my dad was to come straight back at him. Otherwise, he’d flatten you like a steamroller. He clutched his hair in his right hand and gave an explosive breath, then breathed more deeply and said. “Fine. Please tell us what’s going on,” he said with an air of enforced calm, glancing at my mom who nodded her approval. “You should know that we decided we had to watch the entire video you sent.” That’s what Mom meant when she said she recognized Mike. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. It was a little too close for comfort, but then again my mom had written in detail about her menstrual periods in The New York Times. “It was…shocking,” said my mother, gently, clearly tamping down her reaction. “You kept saying that the situation was complex, sweetie. Can you explain it to us now that we’re here?” “It’s kind of a long story. Mike, Aiden, feel free to add stuff or correct me, you’ve been here longer.” I told them my edited version of events. I have to give it to them, they managed to keep quiet while I explained how the entire fraternity had been subjected to the same kind of abuse that I had been, and that it had been covered up by the Gang of 5. “In other words, the football coach, the dean of students and the heads of the major academic departments treat this fraternity like it’s a harem of young men for their personal pleasure?” my mother said, outrage spiking her voice. So much for calm discussion. “Pretty much, Mom.” “Why the fuck did your ‘friends’ choose YOU to be the one to blow this up?” my father erupted. “I volunteered when they told me what was going on.” I said back as calmly as I could. My dad was yanking at his hair again. “Why did you do that?” he said in a tone of resigned despair. If he wasn’t cursing, he was really at the end of his rope. Time to go in for the kill. “Because the actual situation is even worse,” I answered furiously, finally losing my temper. “The coach is HIV positive, and he’s deliberately had unsafe sex with every single member of this frat. Including me.” That shut them up. Both of them looked stunned. “I’m on medication to stop it, I got it in time. Mike made sure I got there in time,” I corrected myself. “That’s why it had to be me. Coach Zetcher controls the flow medications to frat members to keep them in line. Most of these guys can’t tell their families and can’t afford the medication without his help. I can do both.” More silence. “The way it works is that after a pledge is infected, he’s basically imprisoned in this house, and the dean and heads of major academic departments are allowed to do whatever they like with him sexually in return for altering attendance records and bringing him class work. Otherwise, the logical thing to do as soon as possible would be get treatment before the virus can take hold. And as far as I know once seroconversion happens, they kind of lose interest in the new guy, and go looking elsewhere.” Aiden and Mike offered confirmatory nods. My parent’s faces were ashen. “How long has this been going on?” my dad finally asked. “About twelve years,” Mike answered. “This is one hell of a mess,” my father said. “That’s the understatement of the century,” my mom added. Dad visibly steeled himself. “You have more video?” “Yeah,” I said. “We got all five of them.” He sighed deeply. “I’m going to have to get an associate and a paralegal here and make this an official pro-bono case at my firm on an emergency basis, and get someone else to act as lead. I can’t work on this at all past today. Any defense attorney with any sense will use that you’re my son to try and counter my legal arguments. Oh, God, I have to resign from the board here, too.” “Can’t you just cut a deal?” I asked. “You know, get some money for everyone affected and demand the resignations of the faculty members?” “Darren, this is criminal activity. I can’t cover it up or I risk my entire career. All the members of the fraternity are going to have to give statements to the police.” I made a face, and shot an apologetic look at Mike and Aiden, neither of whom looked happy. Interpreting Mike and Aiden’s expressions correctly my dad said, “The police will be discrete. But right now we’re going to pay a call on the Chancellor,” my father finished, grimly. “I need you and Mike to come with us.” “Better take a copy of the video,” said Aiden who left us to go retrieve it from the room he shared with Carlos. Quentin James, the Chancellor (to whom I took an instant dislike), was a tall, unctuous, well-groomed silver-haired man who oozed greasy charm. His office seemed to me to be over-furnished with ostentatiously expensive modern furniture and art. The frat house we lived in was all beat up, and this guy was blowing the money from our tuition on glossy, trendy Eurotrash furnishings and décor. So it was gratifying to watch him not only suck up to my parents after we arrived, but then all but hyperventilate when they explained to him why we were there, and show him a brief clip of the video. He stuttered, “But…but…no…no complaints have been made about anything like this before. How could we have known if the students affected haven’t stepped forward?” I glanced at Mike and did a double-take; I could see the rage radiating off him. “What about Alan Jennings?” he demanded. “Alan Jennings made wild, unsubstantiated accusations…” the Chancellor stopped, his eyes wide with horror. “And now they’re substantiated,” Mike snapped. “You can’t hide behind not knowing when you refused to look.” “Oh my God,” the Chancellor said, as the reality was borne in on him. “We’ll have to find him and apologize and reinstate his scholarship…” “Too late,” Mike bit out. “He committed suicide this past summer.” The silence was thick and heavy. Mike’s fury made me wonder what his relationship with Alan Jennings had been – was I his replacement? “So, Quentin,” my dad said, “you now have a huge pile of crap to deal with. I’m going to resign from the Board of Advisors, and I suggest you convene a meeting of the faculty and administration as soon as possible. I can’t be involved on either side beyond today because of my connections here at the University and that my son is a victim of multiple crimes at the hands of your faculty members, and likely lead plaintiff in what’s going to be the class action law suit of the century.” “I’m terribly sorry, Darren, about what you’ve been through…” the Chancellor began. “That’s sweet,” I interrupted, “but if you’d listened and investigated earlier it wouldn’t have happened.” “Let’s be clear: we’re not here just because it’s our son,” my mother said, her voice trembling with barely contained fury. “Every one of those boys – no, those beautiful young men is somebody’s son. And this institution has failed miserably at ensuring their physical and emotional safety.” “Ms. Sachs, please, don’t tell me you’re going to write about this.” “Once the investigation is under way, just try and stop me.” “I’m going to tap one of my colleagues to represent my son and his friend’s interests. You should expect to hear from Geoffrey Ward and I assume that he will receive your full cooperation,” he said with his best aggressive smile that wasn’t at all warm. Uncle Jeffy! It’d be as good as having Dad represent us. He wasn’t really my Uncle, but he and my dad had been roommates at Yale law and our families spent a lot of time together. As we walked out of the building Dad took Mom’s hand, then turned and smiled at me and Mike. “I’ve never liked that guy, and told them not to hire him. With any luck, he’ll be out on his ass along with other garbage.” My parents drove to check in at their hotel and insisted on taking Mike and me out for lunch. They dropped us at the house and went back to the hotel to begin work: Dad on his phone while using a work station in the hotel’s business center, setting up arrangements for Uncle Jeffy along with a reasonably sized staff come and set up shop. Mom had already called The New York Times to alert them to the situation so that they could send a crime reporter. She was planning to work on a first draft of a column on her ever-present laptop. They said they’d come to the house that night and order a Chinese food banquet for everyone. When in doubt, feed them was my mom’s motto. Mike had organic chemistry lab that afternoon. And as it worked out, I was able to get to my anthropology seminar after all. We were all interviewed by the police after the legal team arrived; my medical records were offered as proof, though the video was incontrovertible evidence. The legal wheels began to grind, slowly but steadily. My parents ended up staying for the entire week. Every night they made sure that we were all well-fed: pizza one night, barbecue another, deli sandwiches, and then for Friday night my mom made her world-famous sloppy joes along with French fries and ordered an immense chocolate cake for dessert, with a large salad as the nod towards healthful eating. Needless to say, Mom and Dad were very popular. As they were getting ready to leave my dad said to me, “I don’t know, I’m still not 100% sure about your staying here.” “Ken, I think he’ll be fine here. And if I feel good about it, then it has to be safe for him.” “You mean this little Rottweiler we birthed?” he said throwing his arm around my shoulders and giving me an affectionate squeeze. “I’m not worried about him. It’s these guys,” he said, gesturing at Mike, Aiden, Carlos, Aaron and Ike who’d come to see them off. “Do you realize what you’re getting yourselves into?” They exploded with laughter, while I looked at my dad through narrowed eyes and said, “You are so not funny,” while trying not to laugh myself. A week later, we had a fraternity-members only party. Some former members who didn’t live too far away came, too. I’d been elected social director, so I decided that Aiden, Aaron and I would get things started by doing a karaoke version of last summer’s hot song “Bang, Bang,” with me taking Jesse J’s lines, Aiden took Arianna Grande’s part and Aaron committed to learn Nikki Minaj’s rap. We all wore tight jeans and t-shirts, flirting with the crowd. And that was all it took to set in motion our first monthly orgy. Even though he’d been relieved of his faculty position, was out on bail, and not supposed to be within 50 feet of any of us, we managed to smuggle in Larry, our newest cum slut recruit. Having finally been freed of all inhibitions, he was completely insatiable. Making up for lost time I guess. There was a line of guys waiting to bang him, even though he was on his back, one guy fucking his ass, another getting sucked and rimmed by him, a third and fourth in his hands and the fifth rubbing his dick against Larry’s torso. They kept shifting positions: as soon as the guy in his ass unloaded, the one who was being sucked and rimmed shoved his dick up the formerly straight ass, the guy who’d been rubbing his dick against Larry’s torso was at his mouth, one of the hand jobs moved to his chest, and one of the guys waiting in line grabbed the unoccupied hand and guided it to his dick. Larry must have taken about 50 loads that night. Personally, I passed on doing it with him. I was more into being fucked after my enforced anal celibacy. I started with Mike in one of the arm chairs. We undressed each other, I straddled him in the chair and then we were kissing, his hands running over my back and torso, his fingers slipping down to tease my ass. My back arched, and his lips replaced his hands on my chest as he supported me. I sat and rubbed my asshole over his rapidly hardening cock; we were both so hot for it after waiting two weeks for me to heal (on orders from the grumpy nurse practitioner) that we didn’t need a heck of a lot of foreplay. He’d snagged a jar of Vaseline, and was putting a glob of it on and in my butthole, while I rubbed some of the greasy stuff over his huge, twitching, drooling dick. Then I was positioning myself so that the head of his cock was pressed up against my tight hole, and I began to push down. It burned like the first time, which made it like a new beginning: losing my virginity — TAKE TWO, AND………….ACTION!!!!! Mike kept me from going too fast, concerned that I’d hurt myself again. So I pushed steadily, feeling my body reshape to accommodate that thick piece of meat. Finally I could tell I was fully impaled on his rod from the feel his pubic hair against my butt. We were panting and kissing feverishly; my dick was hard and oozing because his dick was hitting my internal hotspot. I rose up a little with his hands supporting my thighs and then down. “OH, honey, that’s incredible,” he whispered in my ear. Like always, even though there were guys all around us having sex and not being quiet about it, we could have been alone, so intense our connection. I rose again, and since he was holding me, I could let one hand dangle behind me, trailing over his balls as I rose and fell, gradually faster, the pressure building until he couldn’t hold still and began thrusting up as I pushed down, both of us grunting, moaning, humping, straining until Mike gave an incoherent shout, slammed hard against me, wrapped his arms around me as he shot a two-day load of cum inside me. I was stroking and tickling his balls, wanting every drop, though I doubted this would be the only time we’d fuck that night. I wouldn’t stop rocking on his dick as he gasped with the pleasure of the satiny embrace of my asshole milking him dry, and then I was shooting my own load between us, splashing our chests and even hitting both our faces. I sagged against him and we kissed languidly. “I’ve really missed that,” I murmured in his ear. He didn’t answer, just stroked my back with long, gentle caresses. I pulled off of him, stood and then felt a pair of warm muscular arms going around me, and a pair of hands covering my eyes. “Guess who this is,” a familiar voice – immediately identifiable as Carlos by his Spanish accent – whispered in my ear. “Uh, Rafael Nadal?” I said teasingly. “No, I got a better ass than his.” “Ooh, Rafael Alancar?” I joked. I’d discovered some of his vids – all disappointingly with condoms – online one night while I was trying to relieve my sexual tensions. “No, my dick is WAY bigger than his.” “Then it has to be Carlos,” I said and pushed back against him. His dick was probably bigger than any porn star’s, and best of all he was right here with me. And a complete sweetheart, not some drug-addled shithead who was more interested in showing off than in fucking. “Third time’s the charm,” he said as I turned in his arms, and our lips met, then our tongues as we tore into one another. He grabbed me and hoisted me so that my legs were wrapped around his waist. He was strong enough to carry me to the sofa, where he knelt, never breaking the kiss, his hands free now to stroke and pet, massaging the cum on my chest into my skin, licking it off my face while his immense dick pressed against me in the crease where my thigh met the groin. My hands were going crazy, touching every inch of his smooth, muscular body that I could reach. He moved to kiss my neck, kissing, licking, biting; I slipped a hand between us and played with his huge, low-hanging balls, and was able to just graze his butthole with my fingers. That made him groan, and kiss me more forcefully; then he stood and was turning his back, pushing that beautiful, round bubble ass in my face for me to worship. Aaron joined us, licking Carlos’ dick. Carlos reached back, and pulled my head more securely against his ass and ordered, “That’s it, baby, lick that man’s asshole, eat me.” “I want to try something new with him,” Aaron said, and whispered in Carlos’ ear as I continued my ass worship, sniffing deeply his pungent, masculine scent, licking, kissing and then sticking my tongue up inside his asshole. He moved away, playing with his dick which was leaking pre-cum, and Aaron brought his dick to my lips and fucked my face for a minute. He kissed me on the mouth, and then licked it, enjoying the taste and smell of Carlo’s ass. Then Aaron was sitting next to me. “Sit on my cock, Darr,” he ordered. He didn’t have to ask twice; he slid in easily with the mixture of Mike’s cum and the Vaseline easing the way. Then I felt another dick probing at my butthole. I jumped, startled, and that’s when Carlos wrapped his arms around me, and began to push his dick inside me right on top of Aaron’s. “I’m not sure about this,” I said. “Relax, baby, relax,” Carlos murmured, his arms tightening. “I know you can take it, and it’s going to be awesome. You’re going to get the best prostate bang and two hot loads inside your sweet little hole.” His dirty talk made me want it now, no matter how hard it was going to be. Carlos pushed in steadily while Aaron and I kissed open-mouthed. Finally I could feel the root of Carlos’ immense cock against me, and he drew back slowly and then pushed inside of me. And again…and again…faster, harder. Aaron was moaning and thrusting and it was as if fireworks were going off inside of me. Carlos had not been kidding, I was getting the prostate rub of my life as they fucked me. Aaron was first, voicing a grunt that got progressively louder, “Unh, Unh, Unh…UNHHAAAAAAOH, I’m cumming!” he groaned. That set off Carlos, whose thrusts went wild, ramming against me, not letting up on the pace until he rammed against me and froze, shouting in Spanish. And that set me off, my prostate, which had been thoroughly pummeled, releasing another load. Aaron reached down and played with my balls, while Carlos thrust in and out while my sphincters clenched and released. We collapsed in a sweaty heap on the sofa. I felt languid, satiated for the time being, and even though I was in a room full of men noisily having sex, I leaned against Aaron, closed my eyes and drifted into a light sleep.

So glad you like it!

Continuation...a little long. Had to resolve a few plot points. It should heat up again next chapter. I think. _______________________________ Chapter 13) The gang bang had ended, and the thoroughly cowed faculty had been sent on their way, warned that if they complained, got medical treatment or went to the police, the video of them raping me would be posted on the internet and forwarded to the president of the university, the cops and the news media. I wanted to ruin them, but quietly: have my dad negotiate a huge financial settlement for all the guys in the frat, and as an additional condition demand the immediate resignation of all five of them. Or maybe just four. The “straight” math teacher – Larry – had turned into a complete cum dump. He was moaning to be fucked again after Mike and I had finished, so Carlos stepped up and rammed his enormous dick in Larry’s butt, shot another load and rubbed another one out of the so-called straight guy. He might be the best candidate as a puppet faculty advisor if I couldn’t convince everyone to play it my way, and we just held the threat of annihilation over the Gang of Five Creeps. But for now I was contemplating climbing the steep, narrow stairs. Every bone in my body hurt, I was hungry and exhausted; I shook my head and moaned, “I’ll have to sleep down here until I’m strong enough to make it up the stairs.” “Don’t worry baby, I’ll carry you,” said Carlos, as he hoisted me over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “This is how we got you upstairs last night.” Had it only been a day? It felt like weeks…months. Once we made it to the basement level from the sub-basement, he shifted me so that he was now cradling me against his chest. “I’m sorry baby,” he murmured. “For what?” I asked. “I said I wouldn’t let anybody hurt you but…” “Oh fuck, not you, too,” I sighed. “I’ll tell you what I told Mike: I decided to do this. I could have left but I didn’t, remember? You said I had major cojones. And you did just fine – you’ve got a wicked uppercut.” He smiled weakly. I was too tired for any further argument and gave up. Ike was waiting to take over at the foot of the stairs from the basement to the main floor of the house; for the last lap, Mike carried me upstairs, and delivered me to Aiden and Aaron, who began clucking over me like a couple of mother hens immediately. Everyone else seemed to have gone to bed; it was just about 4:00 AM. “Okay, into the tub for a nice warm oatmeal bath,” said Aaron, as he walked me to the bathroom. “Then you should take Advil – five or so should do it, that’s equal to prescription strength, it won’t kill you,” he added as I shook my head. “And we have some lotion that you can use on your butt to ease the sting. No getting fucked for the next four days at least, better if you wait a week.” “You want something else to eat or drink, Darren?” Aiden asked. “Is there more soup,” I asked “and some crackers or toast or something? Maybe some hot tea?” “Sure, we’ve got all of that,” he said, and left to prepare my pre-dawn snack. Aaron helped me climb in the tub; the warm water was soothing and I sighed contentedly. “Thanks. I’m sorry you have to stay up and play nursemaid, you must be exhausted too.” “Aiden and I slept while Carlos and Ike monitored the video,” Aaron explained. “Plus who would know better than Aiden and me what you’d need after that ordeal?” He shook his head and sighed, then began stroking my hair. “They were extra vicious to you. Daddy Scorpio must have told them to do it, or convinced them you were a pain pig or something. It was when he started choking you that Carlos and Ike woke up everybody and we all ran down to stop it.” “I don’t think I ever said thanks for saving me. How did you get in? Does everyone know the code?” “Daddy Scorpio set it and he isn’t exactly tech-savvy. He used 5-4-3-2-1 as the combination, so it wasn’t hard to memorize,” Aaron said, rolling his eyes. I laughed for the first time in hours. Aiden arrived with a tray holding another large mug of hot chicken soup, a mug of hot tea with honey and lemon, and some toasted whole-grain bread spread with raspberry jam. I slowly ate and drank, holding the plate so that I didn’t get toast crumbs in the bath water. By the time I’d finished, the water had cooled; Aiden and Aaron helped me out of the tub, and handed me a towel to dry off. I could hardly keep my eyes open at that point. “Time for bed,” Aiden said. “You look like you’re going to fall asleep on your feet.” They led me to Mike’s room, but the bed was empty. “Where’s Mike?” I asked, disappointed. “He’s bunking on the floor in a sleeping bag in Ike’s and my room,” Aaron said. “He thought you’d want the bed to yourself.” I made a small, annoyed sound, turned my eyes heavenward and shook my head. “Can you please go get that idiot?” I asked. Aaron grinned and said, “Sure. I’ll send him over.” When Mike walked in he looked tired, but not as if he’d been woken out of a sound sleep. He seemed braced for something, tense. The teasing, sarcastic words I would usually have employed under these circumstances died on my tongue. “I don’t want to sleep alone,” I said simply, and felt my eyes sting. He obviously relaxed and said “Neither do I.” We got in his bed, and wrapped ourselves around one another. “Thinking about being with you was the only thing that got me through this night,” I whispered. Mike gently kissed my cheek; odd to think that he now represented safety and security given how it had all started. But I knew he was a good man with a good heart. Finally exhausted, I fell asleep with his arms wrapped around me, keeping me warm. ————————— We were awoken by a brisk knock at the door and then Aiden entered without waiting for a response. “Goddamn it,” I grumbled drowsily. “What is it about this fucking room?” I had a wicked headache. “Good morning to you, too,” Aiden said. He was carrying a large sack from which a tantalizing array of odors wafted: coffee, eggs, French fries and pancakes. “It’s noon, you’ve gotten seven hours of sleep and you’ve got a lot to do today. Ouch,” he said looking at me more closely. “That’s some shiner you’ve got there.” “What?!? Where’s your mirror?” I asked Mike. “I don’t have one in here,” Mike said. I looked at him disbelievingly. “How do you check out your outfits?” He shrugged. I rolled my eyes and went to the bathroom down the hall to take a look. A bruise spread over my left cheek bone, a lurid shade of deep purple, just beginning to go green and yellow on the edges. No wonder my head hurt. “I’m surprised you haven’t been arrested for crimes against fashion,” I told Mike when I returned to his room. “I have a mirror we can bring here when we move in my stuff today.” Mike’s smile was dazzling as he stroked my right cheek. “We’re moving your stuff here?” he asked. “Well, sure. I mean…unless you don’t want me to…” I trailed off, feeling foolish. He looked at me intently, seriously. “Of course I want you to.” “It’s time to eat,” Aiden said unsentimentally as he unpacked the paper bag. “Especially you, Darren, you’re running on chicken soup and fumes.” “Are you sure you’re not Jewish?” I asked. “You sound just like my mom.” Aiden smiled and shrugged. “And are you always this disgustingly cheerful in the morning?” I asked snarkily. He ignored me. “This is for you, Mike,” handed him a white plastic bag, “and you should take a couple more of these,” he said handing me a large bottle of ibuprofen and then finally left us to our breakfast. The plastic bag contained Mike’s medications; it turned out that Carlos had gotten the key to the cupboard where Daddy Scorpio kept everyone’s meds. There was orange juice, coffee, scrambled eggs, bacon (which I passed on), hot buttered toast, French fries, and pancakes with mixed berries and whipped cream. We sat on the floor and dug in. I hadn’t been aware of how hungry I was until I began to eat. “We’re going to have to figure out our next move before those bastards try anything,” I said, pausing my greedy inhalation of scrambled eggs. “I don’t trust any of them further than I can throw the Empire State Building. And I’m supposed to Skype with my parents tonight. With this eye I’m going to have to tell them something.” Mike grimaced. “I suppose you’re right. Is there any way they’ll keep it quiet?” I knew he was worried about his family finding out, and he wasn’t the only one with that problem. “I’m going to try to convince my dad to cut a deal with the college administration. They’re not going to want any publicity around this either, but my plan is that they have to pay out a lot of money to keep us quiet. Can I get just a part of the video to email if I need to persuade him?” “Carlos will set it up, he’s a whiz with computers. If your dad would negotiate for us, it’d be great,” Mike said. “My mom will probably want to write an article and then a book. I’ll try to stop her, but I know she’ll use pseudonyms.” Which if she named the University or any of the circumstances would be no shield at all. “Maybe she’ll be satisfied with just writing about me since everyone already knows everything about how I was born,” I finished sourly. Mike grinned. “I read her memoir for a writing class.” “Oh fuck,” I said. Of course they’d use it here because of Dad’s connection to the place. “C’mon, I thought it was sweet. There’s no doubt that they both really, really wanted you.” I sighed, rolled my eyes and barely refrained saying “whatever.” “Honey, we have to get you to the clinic today and get you on PeP,” Mike said, adroitly changing the subject. I felt torn – I didn’t really want HIV, but I didn’t want anything to come between me and Mike or my other friends. Seemingly reading my mind, Mike continued “We need to do this right, or your parents are going to be furious.” “I suppose so,” I acknowledged grudgingly. “And then you can transition to PreP, and we’ll be taking one of the same medications.” “What?” I said. “Yeah, I take Truvada to treat HIV. You’ll have to take it every day.” “Then what’s the point? I may as well just let myself convert,” I argued. “Darr, sweetheart, please just do this for me, okay?” he said, grasping my shoulders. “It’s going to be tough enough facing your mom and dad without missing something obvious like this.” “Ohh-kaaay,” I said, feeling oddly dejected. “You’re right. Since we’re going out, you wouldn’t happen to have my clothes, wallet and phone, would you?” “Tucked away in our chest of drawers,” he said nodding at the piece of furniture in question. Our – I liked the sound of that. “Your boots are in the closet.” We finished eating, took showers, shaved and I got dressed in the clothes I’d chosen especially for Friday night: a tight red t-shirt and tight black jeans with boots. I’d only worn them for a couple hours, so they were still fresh. Mike came up behind me, and pulled me back against him. I winced a little, still sore. “You look incredible. It was all I could do to keep from ripping that outfit off of you as soon as you walked in the door on Friday,” he murmured in my ear. I leaned back against him. “Then my plan worked.” “Definitely. Okay, places to go and things to do,” he said, leading me out of his room and down the steps. It took two trips to move all my belongings in Ike’s car, which I unpacked with the help of Mike, Carlos and McCloskey (whose first name I’d found out was Steve). I pointedly ignored their teasing about how much stuff I’d brought with me as we made room in the closet and dresser. Then I went with Mike to the clinic where I explained that I’d had unprotected sex and needed to start prophylaxis against possible HIV infection to a rather grouchy male nurse-practitioner. He insisted on a full physical and comprehensive blood work. One look at my battered anus got me prescriptions for an oral antibiotic and a topical ointment, as well as the Truvada, along with a lecture on safer sex and questions about the circumstances under which I’d had so much sex that my anal and rectal canals were so irritated. I brushed him off, but couldn’t avoid a follow-up appointment. Once back at the house, I curled up in the window seat in Mike’s room and caught up on some reading assignments. We had pizza for dinner, along with minestrone soup and salad. “Who’s paying for all this food?” I asked. “Daddy Scorpio,” said Aiden with a satisfied smile. “He’s hoping we’ll keep quiet, so it’s bribe. But none of us are above bribes.” Then, finally, the hard part: Skyping with Mom and Dad. I initiated the connection, and then moved so I’d be off screen. Mike, Carlos, Ike, Aiden and Aaron were in the room with me for moral support. “Darren, sweetie, is that you? Move over, we can’t see you,” my mom said. “Are you sitting down?” I asked. “Why?” my dad asked suspiciously. “Just tell me. And if you’re not sitting, please sit.” “Okay, okay, we’re both sitting,” my dad said exasperatedly. “What have you done now? Dyed your hair green and cut in a Mohawk?” I moved so that I was in their sight line, watched my mother’s jaw drop, and then her face crumple. “Darren, what happened?” she demanded. “From the looks of it, our charming son finally met his match and got socked in the eye for mouthing off.” I was irritated enough at his assumption I earned the bruise that I just blurted it out. “No. I was assaulted. Sexually.” “What?” my mother shrieked. “How did this happen? Have you seen a doctor, have you called the police?” “I went to a clinic and they took care of me and prescribed some medicine, you’ll see the charges on the insurance and my credit card. The police…it’s kind of complicated.” I had prepared my version carefully, memorizing a bulleted list that I’d shared with everyone with instructions to memorize it, or else I’d add them to any criminal complaint. That shut up Daddy Scorpio’s supporters in a hurry. “Complicated?” my dad said, looking skeptical. “Meaning…?” “I went on a date this past Friday, with a really nice guy, but…” “He’s not nice if he raped you,” my mother said flatly. “It wasn’t him. I said it was complicated. He’s the pref…president of a fraternity and he wanted me to pledge. We had a lovely time together. I met some of the guys, they’re great and I decided to join. When I left the Fraternity house, someone grabbed me, and took me to a basement room…” “Oh, my poor, sweet angel. I told you we should have him stay in New York,” my mom said turning on my dad furiously. “We would have been able to keep a closer eye on him.” Me mum had hit on the only upside I’d been able to find when Dad insisted I go to this bucolic setting for college: severing the umbilical cord. I loved Mom, but she had a tendency to hover. “But,” Dad began. “We’ve sent our son into the middle of a real-live Deliverance because you insisted that he attend your alma mater,” she said, reaching for tissues as she started to cry. “They weren’t hicks, mom,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Who did this?” my dad said, now angry. “Have you gone to the police or the campus authorities?” “I keep saying it’s complicated, Dad. Let me finish.” I took a deep breath. “It was several faculty members.” “Several. Faculty. Members?!?” said my dad, his face expressing how unlikely he thought this to be. “Who?” “Well, the guy who grabbed me is the football coach here…” “Zetcher? Impossible. I don’t believe it.” “Are you saying that I’m lying?” “You’d do anything to convince us to let you come back to New York, up to and including hitting yourself in the face with a two by four and then claiming you were raped. It’s not going to work.” I let my hurt show. “Okay. I was afraid of this. I didn’t want to, but I’m going to send you a video clip. Check your email.” I had the message ready to go that had the excerpt Carlos prepared attached, starting when Daddy Scorpio threatened me, then tackled me. I heard the ping on the family PC that indicated my email had arrived. Dad opened it and double-clicked on the attached mpeg. Next thing I heard was Daddy Scorpio’s yelling at me that I’d pay, my snarky comeback and then my scream as he tackled me. “Turn it off,” my mother said tearfully. “I can’t watch this!” “Darren…I…I’m sorry. I…” my dad stuttered. “You want to make up for it?” I said, irritated that my eyes were burning. “Come here. I need both of you,” and began to cry. “We’ll be there tomorrow, angel,” my mom promised. “As soon as we can get there.” “I have a deposition…” “Fuck the goddamn deposition, an associate or another partner will handle it if you explain that our son needs us, it’s a family emergency. Don’t say another word,” Mom warned my dad. I saw my friends exchange glances, wide-eyed at my mom dropping the “f” bomb. “Who made this video, and how did you get it?” he asked, and my mom’s eyes went to slits, her mouth a tight, straight line. “Friends who saved me.” “Huh?” Dad said, clearly completely perplexed. “Why didn’t they stop it from happening, then?” Time to play the trauma card. “Daddy, I’m exhausted, I have a headache and it’s all a little fuzzy. Can we talk tomorrow?” I gave them the address of the frat house so they could find me. “Try to get some sleep, angel,” said my mom as she dabbed her eyes. “We’re on our way,” just before we ended the session. “Baby, now I know where you get it,” said Carlos after I turned off my laptop. “Get what?” I asked. “That fearless mouth of yours,” he said admiringly. “Your mom sounds just like you!” “I think it’s the other way around, darling,” said Aaron. Aiden nodded his agreement and snickered. “Can you really sell them on this?” Mike asked. “Yeah, there’s a lot of gaps to account for,” Ike worried. “I’ll manage it. Somehow,” I assured them. They all look less than convinced. “It all hinges on the video and my testimony. And I will only testify as to what is on that video. There’s no proof for the rest.” And then a wave of fatigue washed over me. “I don’t about you guys, but I’m sleep deprived and have to face the parents tomorrow. So I’m ready to call it a night.” “Me too, Darr,” said Mike. The rest left our room for their own, we got ready (finally, my own toothbrush!) and snuggled together in bed. I fell asleep immediately. It was dark…I was in a room…Mike’s room? Or the “Chapel of the Scorpion”? What was just on the other side of the door over there? I knew I wasn’t alone…there was someone dangerous nearby, and I had to leave, but where’s the door? I saw someone – Daddy Scorpio? – coming towards me, tried to run then fell…and woke with a jolt and small shout. “Sweetheart, what is it?” Mike said as he turned on the bedside lamp. “A dream, just a dream,” I said as I tried to catch my breath. “Your heart is thumping a mile a second,” Mike said. “And you’re shaking. What was it about?” I shook my head, not wanting to relive it. “It’ll help, I promise. We’ve all been through it, the nightmares.” I thought a minute, and tried to hold on to the now-fading fragments of my dream. “I was someplace…” and I paused. “That’s a good start,” said Mike gently. I made a face at him, concentrated again. “I thought it was this room, then it changed to the room in the sub-basement, but it didn’t look the same. I saw a door but I knew someone was in the room and that they were going to try to hurt me,” I said, my breathing getting shallower. “And then I think I saw The Father…” “Daddy Scorpio,” Mike prompted. “Remember?” I smiled weakly. “Yeah, Daddy Scorpio. And he started towards me, I couldn’t find the door – it was gone – and then I tripped and was falling. That’s when I woke up.” He didn’t say anything else, just held me close. “Are you sure he can’t get in here?” I asked. I hadn’t thought about it before. Mike smirked. “All the locks were changed and the guys put bolts on all the doors inside. The frat operating fund paid for it. He’s locked out, believe me. Try to relax,” Mike said and kissed me on the forehead. “You’re trembling like a leaf.” I tried closing my eyes, and breathing deeply and rhythmically. The shakiness of the dream persisted, but I tried to hold still and let Mike sleep. “Still can’t sleep?” he asked. So much for that. “Yeah, sorry. Maybe I should sleep on the floor, or the couch in the living room.” “Don’t be stupid,” Mike said, sounding a little more awake. “There’s no point in neither of us sleeping.” “Let’s try something,” he said, and nuzzled my neck, began zeroing in on my hotspots. “This isn’t going to relax me,” I gasped. “I’ll want you to fuck me, and we can’t. That means I’ll be awake and horny.” “There’s other things we can do – let me take care of you” he whispered, then pressed his mouth to mine, and gently pushed his tongue between my lips. He was a fantastic kisser, and just let him take over though I felt frustrated that I couldn’t take him inside of me. Then he began working his way down: my ears, my jaw, my neck again, my chest, lazily tonguing my nipples as I twisted under him. He followed my belly down to the groin where he flicked a teasing tongue over the femoral artery, his warm mouth closing gently over my cock. I moaned as he increased the suction and began to lightly play with my balls; from the rhythmic pumping I could sense that he was simultaneously beating himself off. I could feel the buzz start in my lower back, and began to follow the nerves of my pelvis, to the root of my dick, no holding back now. My load shot into his warm, accommodating mouth. Mike didn’t let up on the suction and I writhed with pleasure so intense that it felt like torture. Then he was up on his knees and shooting his load on my chest and stomach. He lay down and kissed me again, tracing patterns in the load he’d unleashed on my abdomen. “I’m drawing hearts,” he murmured. I giggled weakly; the tension was gone. Mike seemed to sense the change. “They say sex is better than valium for relaxation,” he told me as he reached for the box of tissue that’d been left on the nightstand and gently cleaned me up. “Case in point,” I said sleepily. “Sleep tight, honey,” he answered. I felt him pull me close as I dropped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Yes, please update us!

Use your lips, too, and try gentle suction. Often the most sensitive spot is at the end of the hole nearest the cock, try concentrating on that area. You can also press your nose against his butt and inhale deeply. And if you can, play with his dick and balls while rimming, try really light touches, like you're just playing with the hair on his nut sack and just barely touching his shaft. You'll drive him crazy...in a good way.

Don't let some "comma fucker" screw with you. There are a wide range of styles here; one guy's story is almost completely done as a series of text messages with descriptions of sex and minimal dialogue. My own is very much based on romance fiction. There's room for all of us!

Working on it. It's slow, sorry. And I've been dealing with life -- and a nasty cold that really knocked me out.