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" 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."

What a grea t love story!,,,,,

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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.

Edited by NYBBGUY58
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  • 3 weeks later...
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.

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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.

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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…

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