Country Cousins

[EasyRory]

Chapter Fifty-Four - Tommy Lynn


“It's Luna's fault. That's what it is, Tommy Lynn. Luna. A corrupting fiend is what she is. You know there was insanity on both sides of her family? BOTH SIDES! All those Smith's marrying each other. What would you expect?” Marlee sat wringing her hands and looking out the window in a desperation I had never seen in her before. “That boy is unconscious.”

“Sartre says that consciousness is nothingness ...” I began but she cut me off.

“Stuff it, Tommy Lynn. With all the philosophers running around, one of them is bound to seem useful once in his life.”

“Mmmm, but Sartre's not running around. He's dead.

“See what all that negativism got him?”

“Actually he's not negative at all. He's much more of a take-charge type.”

“Tommy Lynn! WHAT has that got to do with Willis and that pregnant old woman he's living with?”

“The point I was GETTING to, Marlee, is Willis has it in hand. He wants to marry the woman; he's not making excuses or trying to duck anything … and she's not THAT old. Thirty-f… Thirty-something.”

“Oh, for God's sake. Do something useful. Make me a margarita.”

“Honey, it's only two in the afternoon ...”

“TOMMY LYNN!!!!”

I went to the wet bar in the library and looked for the fixin's. “Make it a pitcher,” she called from the solarium. There didn't seem to be any limes. Would she notice if I used lemons? Probably not in her present state. It's hard being a mother - definitely harder than being a father. Of course, fathers get disappointed, too; but somehow it's not as gut-wrenching as women seem to find it. Willis actually has a pretty good notion of what he's going to do, if he ever gets to do it. He wants to marry her and then work for me and Fairfax, although I believe he used the phrase work with me. And that might work out well, he's mastered a lot of the basics: net present values and forward rates of return, that sort of thing and the analysis he did for me last summer was good. He's getting good grades, better than I got, truth be told.

“Oh, my GAWD!” Now what is Marlee going on about? “Police are coming up the DRIVE!” I heard her run for the door and decided to add more tequila to the pitcher. I relaxed when I heard Emma's voice.

“Take it easy, Momma. I got a flat tire and the policeman gave me a ride home. Orville Spooner? Remember him? He had the hots for me when I was about twelve and he worked at the Club. But he's married now. Has four little kids all under the age of five. They're like zero, two, three, and four. WHEW! Imagine the stretch marks!” I heard Emma go upstairs as I salted two glasses.

“Now there's one I wish WOULD get married,” Marlee scowled, accepting the drink and sipping. “Something's different about this drink ...”

The lemons.

“No matter. It tastes good. A girl or a boy do you think? Boys can handle being bastards better I think.”

“Marlee, I don't think it matters as much any more. So many marriages are late or never at all things.”

“It matters to our friends, Tommy. You know it does.”

“Then they're not much as friends, are they? And give it a try. Name one family that hasn't got some story they'd love to hide.”

“Well ...”

“The Morgans and the cleaning woman? Kitty Lee Loomis peculating the church flower fund? The Arringtons and the disappearing daughter-in-law? Whatever DID happen to her anyway?”

“They found her in North Carolina in a motel.” Marlee brightened at the recollection. “With a man AND a woman! I always said nothing good happens in North Carolina.” She chuckled. “And the best part was the couple used to work for Renee LaGerbille. And you can just IMAGINE what went on in that house!”

“So Willis and Sarah being a bit tardy in making it down the aisle won't be so remarkable really.” I tried to sound soothing and reasonable.

“Her initials will be S.F.P. Now that's a pity. Self-Fulfilling Prophecy, that's what we used to call the girls at Madeira who made too blatant a play for boys. 'Too blatant' usually meant pregnant, although one – Dolleen What-was-her-name? - got chlamydia!” Marlee held her glass out steadily and let me refill it.

“See what I mean. It's not like the What-was-her-names can never hold their heads up again, right? And you can't even remember her name.”

“Maybe I could if these drinks weren't so tasty.” She held out her glass for more but had to pull it back when her phone made a gurgling noise. She looked at the text. “He's bringing her. They'll be here in a half hour.” She held out the glass again and instantly drained it. “I had better get ready. You'll stay, won't you?”

Thirty-seven minutes later Willis and Sarah walked through the front door. “It's official!” he said. “Sarah Felsen has said 'Yes' to my proposal.”

I offered congratulations to Willis and best wishes to Sarah. I never understood it; but you not supposed to congratulate the prospective bride. So what if it's a bit triumphal? Marlee was more reserved mumbling something about being pleased to hear it directly. She awaited Sarah's reply.

“Ooohh” gasped Sarah looking into the reception room. “Is that rug an Oushak? May I say it's gorgeous?” She turned back to Marlee for confirmation.

“Why … yes, it is ...” Marlee smiled.

“And the colors are so PERFECT for the room.” Even I thought Sarah was laying it on a bit thick.

“We have some others. Would you like to see? Or could I offer an iced tea first?”

“I have some cousins in New York who deal rugs – strange for Jews to be in an Arab business, isn't it? But that rug is far better than their usual stuff. I can't wait to see the others. If I may ...”

“Why, of course, Sarah, honey. Come with me ...” I watched the two of them walk toward the dining room. Will and I exchanged a look and a smile.

“I gave Sarah a few suggestions,” Will confided.

 

[DonQuixote]

Rory,
This was a well needed chapter - the comic relief has shown up.

Props to Will and Sarah on the care and feeding of mother dearest.

 

[Craiger]

Will has a brain in his head. More than his mother, I'd say. And Sarah can be so sweet when she wants... Poor Tommy Lynn. How fortunate for him however, that he isn't married to Marlee. I wonder what Fairfax is doing these days? Last I remember he was getting sex everywhere but home. Fun chapter, Rory.

Craiger

 

[Rickrock]

Great chapter. You keep writing and I'll keep reading.

 

[EasyRory]

Chapter Fifty-Five – Tony

We were walking up Florida Avenue and the lawyer began singing. The tune was familiar, but the words weren't.

“Let's go walking in the park
And goose the statues in the dark,
If Sherman's horse can take it,
Why can't you?”

“Charlie! For God's sake!” Refo gasped. “The tourists can hear you.”

“I believe that was one of the first Gay Pride theme songs,” Charlie answered. “I imagine a boy singing to his reluctant lover ... ”

We walked up a hill in the heat of early September and were sweating before we went two blocks. “I think it would have been shorter to walk from my hotel instead of parking so far away and then … And the street sign says Sheridan, not Sherman ...”

“Yes, Tony, but walking from your hotel would not have giving you the real Washington experience. Impracticality, illogic, and ill manners: our specialty. And while the roadway IS called Sheridan Circle, who is to say that the statue is, in fact, General Sheridan?”

“I'll say it. I actually checked once,” Refo declared.

“Liar,” Charlie answered.

“I put up with this,” Refo said to me, “because he is actually a good lawyer.”

We got to the art gallery on Leroy Place and the owner told me to help myself to an iced tea and look around. I hate iced tea, but I did decide to look around. The opening of the exhibit was to be that night and Refo was here to sign some contracts covering the sale of his photography. I was here just because I was a model in some of the art. One of the other models was supposed to be here, too. It was nice of Refo to invite me to stay at his place, but I didn't have time and had arrived in DC just an hour before.

The gallery put me up at the Washington Hilton, which was an impressive looking nearby hotel on a hill at Connecticut and Florida Avenues. Some president had been shot there, according to a plaque on the wall. I guess some of the rooms had an impressive view of the city, but mine was on the rear side and had an impressive view of an alley, some trees, and the back of an old apartment building. We have better hotels in Philly, if you ask me; but nobody did. Refo and Charlie picked me up right on time, which Charlie said was because I wasn't important. If I had been important, he would have picked me up late – to show that he was more important. Refo told him to shut up, which made me laugh. I think I like Refo.

One of my professors said modeling was ok and a pretty good way for an actor to start out. When I told him about the nude part, he wanted to see the paintings, which kind of creeped me out. When I told him I didn't have any copies, he got back to business and said nude was ok, too, as long as it was tasteful and not porn. I don't know how tasteful Tyler's paintings were, but at least I didn't have an erection in any of them.

A large room at the front of the gallery, which was formerly a row house, had a lot of pictures of somebody I didn't know named Otis, I guess. That was the title of most of them. Otis and a number. Otis 12 was really nice looking or at least it made Otis look like a nice person. I wished my dark hair was more like his. His soft curls looked classically Roman; my tighter curls looked Neapolitan, which is my heritage. I tried having my hair straightened once, but that didn't work out so well, plus the stylist wanted to suck my dick. I probably should have let him, but I was younger then and didn't know shit. When he touched me I ran out of the shop. Then I spent the next six months jacking off to the memory and wondering if I should go back for more; but I didn't have the balls to do it.

I wondered where the pictures of me were. In the next room there were paintings of some blond guy. Awesome looking. Really awesome, especially the one where he was lying back on a bed with a half stiffy resting on his thigh. Wow. Hot. Could he possibly look that good in real life? I felt a familiar stirring in my pants and wondered if my professor would say the painting is porn or not. If it gets you hard, I guess that's kind of the definition of porn, isn't it? The next picture of him showed his ass. I would fuck this guy. Definitely. Would I ever!

And suddenly there I was! In the next room. In the first painting, I looked ok, I thought. I was naked but you couldn't see anything. In the next one I was lying face down on a bed and you could see my ass. You could even see the hair in my crack. Did Tyler REALLY have to include that? There was another guy in the room and I started blushing, thinking he now knew so MUCH about me. I turned half away from him and looked at the painting again. You could see a darkness between my legs that was my balls. No details, but BALLS! I took a glance at the other guy. He ignored me, thank God, and just looked at the last painting in the room.

The third one in the row showed me lying on my back. There I was, spread eagle, showing it all, which in my case isn't so much, but Tyler made it look bigger. I think he must have plumped me up quite a bit. Not gigantic or anything, but nothing to be ashamed of, either. My hand was on my cock, sitting there in a casual manner as if it was just accidental in my sleep. Ok, not hard-core, but we're definitely approaching porn here. The last painting made me gasp. I wasn't even sure it was me. The model sat in a chair with his legs spread wide, jacking off and looking right out of the painting – right at the viewer. Yeah, it was me. I had NEVER posed like that. NEVER. Fuckin' Tyler was a dead man!

“Awesome, huh?” the guy said to me. And then he said, “Hey, it's you … in the painting, right?” Our eyes locked. I was hoping I could somehow disappear, vanish out of sight, forever, and then come back alone and burn down the whole gallery. “It's a jolt seeing yourself like that at first, huh? I know I felt the same way.”

“You're the model in the other room!”

“Right. I'm Vince.”

“Tony,” I responded.

“So you gonna kill Tyler or what?” Vince smiled.

“The whole world is gonna see this!” I blurted out.

“Yeah, but at least you're looking good. Most of 'em will be jealous.”

“Lookin' good? Are you kidding me? I'm looking …” I couldn't think of a word.

“Good,” Vince filled in, like there was no debate.

I took another quick peek and turned away. “I can't even look at it!”

“The amazing part is the expression on your face. Like you're kind of defying the viewer to judge you. A real 'fuck-you' look, I'd say. Like you're proud and totally unashamed of sex.”

“I'm half terrified of sex since Tyler ...”

“Accused you of raping him? Me, too. He's such an asshole.” I was astonished by the comment. The paintings ... The rape stories ... Vince … “Let's get out of here,” Vince suggested. “We can grab a beer or something.”

We went to a bar and I couldn't believe the prices. Out of desperation we bought a six-pack and then wondered where to drink it. I offered and we went to my room. Two beers later Vince kissed me and said, “Dude, that jack off scene is an awesome painting. Can I see the original?”

I was a little scared and wanted to tell him that Tyler had enhanced me some, but Vince undressed me before I could complain and said. “Awesome … just like the painting ...”

He sucked me a little bit and kissed me a little bit and took off his own clothes and then sucked me some more and kissed me some more. He lay back on my bed and pulled me on top of him, still kissing me. And then he began touching me, caressing me in ways I'd never felt before. “Fuck ...” I sighed over and over, which I guess he took as an invitation. His hands cupped and squeezed my ass pulling my cheeks apart. I felt the first prod of his cock and thought about saying no, but I never had a chance. At the next exquisite feeling of pressure I came. Bang! No warning! Spurting between our bodies, I kissed him desperately. I starting feeling embarrassed about my premature explosion before I even stopped cumming and rolled off him.

“That was so sweet,” he sighed. “Just about perfect,” he said.

I opened my eyes and saw him smiling at me, his shaggy blond hair falling around his face. Wow! was my reaction. Just wow. I couldn't come up with any other word.

We just kept kissing. And he kept touching me. Everywhere. I grabbed his hand when it was on my face and kissed his fingers. Then in the shower he was hard. I guided his cock to my ass and he got in this time. His mistake was reaching around and stroking my cock. I came again.

I knelt under the streams of water and sucked his cock. Thank God, I must have been pretty good at it. I felt the tremors in his thigh before he came. And then he pulled me to my feet and kept kissing me and grabbing my ass.

“I love getting my cock sucked,” he whispered to me. “You're awesome at it.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and my body molded itself against him. I never wanted to stop holding him, feeling the pressure of his magic hands all over me. The way he cupped my ass reminded me of my failure to get him off that way. One of his fingers gently probed and I let him in.

We moved to the bed. He wasn't ready right away, but after we drank the last beer, he fucked me. It hurt. It hurt so bad and so good all at once. And then it didn't hurt. And then I felt him deep in me, like he was taking me over one cell at a time. He would slow down and I would want him more. And then he would speed up and I hung on to him as best I could, trying not to come again, almost numb with pleasure. And then he slowed down again. I felt his hands on me. I watched him. Sometimes he would close his eyes and savor the pleasure, sometimes he would look right in my eyes probing me in a different way. I lay open, all his. Do it, Vince. Anything you want. I don't think I said those actual words, but I thought them. He came and I knew what getting fucked good meant. I kissed him and said his name over and over. I hated it when he pulled out.

“We gotta go to the exhibit. We're already late,” he said.

“Do you want to take another shower?” I asked.

“No, I want to go smelling of Tony … of you,” he said with a grin.

After the afternoon of sex, I cruised through the exhibit opening like a sleepwalker. Lots of phony compliments from people I'd never see again, lots of offers from other people I hoped I'd never see again, and secret smiles from Vince. We both avoided talking to Tyler. After what seemed like forever, “Let's go,” he mouthed to me from across the room.

“Come home with me,” he invited.

“I can't. I have to be at school tomorrow.”

“I'll drive you,” he promised.

I decided that maybe my morning classes wouldn't miss me. I checked out of the hotel and couldn't wait for us to get to Warrenton. I don't remember thing about his apartment, only about his cock, and his fucking, and his beautiful hands that never left my body. We talked some, exchanging a few facts about each other; but mostly we talked about how good the sex was.

He drove me to school in the morning. We stopped at a park on the Rappahannock near Frederick and ate some fast food we bought on the way. It was totally my idea that he fuck me; but Vince didn't resist. It was so not like getting fucked; we were making love. The rest of the drive to Williamsburg I had my head in his lap, chewing on his jeans, seeing if I could get him hard. Yep, I could. We parked and I opened his pants and sucked on his cock a little, but he wouldn't let me finish him. I didn't make my afternoon classes either. When we finally got there I showed him my room. My roommate was there and wouldn't take a hint so we went to Roy's room. After a little talk with Roy, he said he had to leave.

I totally ignored Roy and wrapped my arms around Vince's neck and kissed him. His hands automatically went to my ass. “I want to see you again,” I demanded when we finally separated.

“Next time Roy goes to Harrisonburg, ride along. You can stay with me if you want,” Vince suggested.

Of course I wanted. Like he even had to ask. I walked him out to the parking lot to his truck. We had a little trouble finding it, since it was now surrounded by other cars and trucks. He started to open the door and I grabbed him for one more kiss. It wasn't enough. After looking around at the empty lot, he pulled my jeans down and bent me over the front fender. I came while he fucked me and apologized for pumping my cum onto his shiny truck.

“Vince,” I began. My brain screamed tell him you love him. Instead I said, “Thanks for the ride and the fuck … or two … or a dozen.”

“Don't thank me. Just fuck me again.” he said. One more kiss and he left. Roy had questions when I got back to his room but I told him I didn't want to talk about it.

“Well, then, tell me about the exhibit,” he continued.

“It was ok, I guess.” And I guessed it was.

 

[DonQuixote]

Rory,
I read this before I left work today - e-mail notification is a wonderful thing.

Got chubbed up nicely from your literary genius.
It was a great chapter exploring our models and their cumming together!

 

[Craiger]

Tony seem like a very likable guy, that is if he isn't around Tyler.... He and Vince certainly hit it off exceptionally well. I wonder what part of his experience with Vince will be added to his dramatic repertoire? Hopefully it will, instead, form into a lasting relationship. Vince is deserving of some loving. Great getting to know Tony a little better. Thanks, Rory.

Craiger

 

[Rickrock]

Great chapter, thanks.

 

[EasyRory]

Sorry for the long delay in posting - I was out of town (some place warm) and there wasn't any opportunity

 

[bigcannon]

Hopefully you had some quality time to let you imagination run wild with the development of this story. That means we have a lot to look forward to. This is quality stuff. Keep it coming, Rory. We love you.

 

[EasyRory]

Chapter Fifty-Six - Tyler


“But he raped me!” I told the men.

“We don't think so,” one of the guards answered. “The test we gave you revealed no evidence of semen in your rectum.”

“The test was a huge enema, Refo, no wonder there was no 'evidence'. It all got washed away! Is he just going to get away with this?” I looked from Refo to Charlie and saw only questioning faces.

“Every sexual contact you have seems to turn into a rape. Do you think you're maybe going about things the wrong way?” Refo questioned. “Do you want some tea?” he asked in a more friendly voice.

“HE, as you call him, has probably been getting away with this for years. He's a powerful man, Tyler, and powerful men get what they want, assuming he's guilty, assuming people would believe your story. Just because he's a senator doesn't mean he's not pond scum.” Charlie paused, “You, however, have no case, no evidence. Especially considering the statement you signed. You admitted breaking into his house!”

“But that was after they hosed me with that enema. I didn't know what they'd do next. Charlie, I'm telling you it must have been a couple of gallons. They were still pumping it in while it was already coming out.”

“Any physical signs? Any damage to your body?”

“How would I know?”

“Refo would know. Show him your asshole.”

The whole night turned into one horror after another; and the reception after the gallery exhibition opening started out so great. The art critic from the newspaper couldn't stop telling me what talent I had. People were inviting me to parties. Champagne corks popping. Odd little sandwiches that looked weird and tasted awesome. Some cute guys asking if I needed a model. And then the Senator came up to me. He was so charming, asking about school and my plans. He said he knew of an internship that might be available. He phoned somebody and said to have the paperwork delivered to his house that night. “Better not delay, Tyler; there's fierce competition for these things,” he said. I had another glass of wine and we left. He gave me some more to drink when we got to his house and then we waited for the paperwork to arrive. The conversation changed while we waited.

“Did you actually have sex with those models?” he asked. “Don't be embarrassed. Of course you must have, right?”

“With Otis, no,” I told him; I didn't want to talk about Otis. “But the other two ...”

“I knew it,” he said quietly. “Tell me more.”

“Well, I was kind of a beginner at it. The sex, I mean.”

“Really? I would have thought you were more experienced from the way you paint.”

“I did, blow jobs and stuff; but not doing what they wanted to do.”

“Ah, the anal business. I see. But you held the cards. You were the boss. So you fucked them. What's so hard about that? I'd think a strapping young man like yourself ...” He squeezed my cock! “... that you would be ready for uh, adventures, should we say.”

“I was. But they wanted to fuck me! Not the other way around.”

“And they're pretty hot stuff, so you let them?”

“Yeah, but I didn't like it and I tried to get them to stop. But ...”

“Really? What did you say to them?”

“Stop!”

“But that didn't work, did it?” He sounded annoyed with my answer. At this point he was rubbing my cock, getting me hard. I should have tried to stop him then, but maybe it wouldn't have mattered. “What did they say to you?”

“Well, one said, 'I'm really close. I gotta finish.' The other one just kept fucking me and came quick.”

“So how long were they in you before you complained?” He undid my belt and started working on my pants. “This is a fascinating story, Tyler. And I can see you're liking it, too. Lift up while I pull your pants down.” He tugged and pulled them to my knees. “Oh, my … you are hard, aren't you?” And he started blowing me, while he worked my pants off. “How long were they in you again?”

“I don't know. Long enough that I came but not long enough for them.”

“So that was a while, I'd say.” He found my asshole and he probed gently.

“FUCK!” I gasped as he entered me with the tip of his finger.

“Eventually, my boy, but not yet. Take your shirt off.” He went back to sucking me while I got naked except for my socks. Then he paused and massaged my feet. He seemed to like my socks. “You came while they were fucking you? So you must have liked some of it.”

“I liked a lot of it. Just not after I came. Should we wait for the paperwork to arrive?”

“No … that is going to take a while I'm afraid.” He looked at me with a demonic grin. Suddenly in the dim light, he looked seriously menacing.

“You may undress me,” he continued. “And you may show your appreciation as you do.” I wasn't at all sure what he meant; but once I got his shirt open he provided more specifics. “Suck my nipples,” he demanded and grabbed me by the hair so he could aim my head where he wanted. “I like having a naked boy like you kissing my body.”

I tried doing what he wanted but I made some mistake. He pulled me upright and slapped my face – hard, it hurt a lot. “I don't like to feel teeth. So, no teeth. Got that?”

“Ok,” I think I said and went back to undressing him. I got his pants open and let them fall to the floor. Then the directions got specific again.

“Reach inside my underwear and massage my ass,” he ordered. “Squeeze harder.” He groaned with pleasure. “That's right. Now touch my asshole, but don't penetrate. That's right. Now massage it.” I complied and he groaned the way I did when Tony first fucked me. “Keep going … you want to fuck me, don't you?”

“I do.” That made him laugh.

“What do you want to do?” he teased.

“I want to fuck you,” I said and he laughed again as he pulled my head against his still underwear-covered cock.

“Pull 'em down and suck me,” he asked like he was ordering coffee. “GOD DAMN IT!” He yanked me head back and slapped me again. “NO TEETH, I told you. How FUCKIN' HARD is that?”

I protested and told him not to hit me again. He didn't. Instead he rolled me over, pinned me, and fucked me. Shoved it partway in, ignoring my scream. He pulled back and spit on my asshole and then shoved it in again, going deep this time. He kept pumping hard until I quieted down. Then he pulled out.

“You ready to try sucking again? Doing it RIGHT this time?” He didn't wait for an answer. He shoved his shit-smelling cock into my mouth and partly down my throat. He was pretty big. I gagged. “I love it when they gag,” he said to the empty room and he made me gag again and again. I had tears streaming down my face when he abruptly pulled out. And then the real fucking began.

He used lube, which was more considerate than I expected. That was the good part. The bad part was that I figured he was never going to stop. He fucked me hard, he fucked me gently, he fucked me missionary, then doggy, and then the worst happened.

I suddenly came. No warning. Just like with Vince. I just exploded and my knees gave out. We collapsed onto the sofa and he laughed. “I still got it! I can make these little piggies whimper and cum and scream!” I tried to get out from under his dead weight and he laughed again. “Oh, we're not done, boy; we're not done at all. Like your models, I gotta get off, too.”

Just like Tony and Vince, it didn't take him long to fill me with his cum. Then he rolled off and picked up a phone.

“Get him out of here,” he ordered, watching me grope on the floor for my clothes.

Three men came and took me to a van in the garage. We drove a short distance to another garage and I was taken inside, questioned, hosed with their enema machine, given a paper to sign, taken to a street corner, and dumped.

“Do you have any money?” one asked.

“Some,” I answered.

“Here's fifty for a taxi,” he replied. The door to the van closed and it drove off. There was mud or something on the license plate. I couldn't make out a single character; I couldn't even tell the jurisdiction.

The worst part, well, that's not true. It wasn't the worst; but I was so ashamed showing my asshole to Refo. He didn't like it either.

“Do it, Refo. Your a doctor,” Charlie said patiently.

“A PhD!” Refo exclaimed.

“Close enough. You've seen plenty of assholes in your time.”

“Spread 'em,” Refo requested. “I don't know. It looks big is all. Kinda slack. No damage though. No signs of blood or contusion. It's just a well-used asshole.”

“Big? Slack? I'm just twenty-one!” I complained.

“Been busy, I guess,” Charlie said. “Busier than you've been telling us, I'm thinking.”

So I had to tell them MORE of my story, and it's really hard to lie to Charlie. He's ruthless. I had to tell him about my uncle, that dorm monitor, one of the art instructors, the art supplies guy, my second year roommate, my second year roommate's friends, and a couple more. God, I was so embarrassed. Finally, he zeroed in on specifics. I admitted Tony and Vince didn't really rape me. Truth is I like getting raped. It turns me on.

But I didn't tell him about Otis, no need bringing that subject up. That subject was complicated with a capital everything.

 

[rocabar]

. . . Interesting!

 

[Kyanimal]

Interesting, indeed! And, certainly explains a Lot!

Poor Tyler! Well ... not really ... butt, really ... So complicated!

Nothing "complicated" about the Senator, though!

More, Please!

Of course ... No Matter What ...

Keep Smilin'!!
Chaz

 

[DonQuixote]

I see Chaz has beat me to the boards tonight.
I read this before I left work today.

You and Lake both posted about the same time.

Tyler seems to have a lot more experience than he was attesting to.

 

[Craiger]

Wow! Our budding artist is opening up with an almost dual personality. Up until now, we thought his little ass had be had by just a couple...that he was a little more pure in his 21 years. The truth always finds a way of bubbling up and exposing those nasty little details we try so hard to conceal. One bonus point for Tyler, the gallery reception seemed to go well and his art work was appreciated, or should I say ogled. Thanks, Rory, for an interesting and enlightening chapter.

Craiger

 

[EasyRory]

Chapter Fifty-Seven - Refo


“I think I'm in love ...” I lay on the sofa and wondered if she could tell I had got a little chub from watching an ESPN replay of last night's baseball game.

“What?” asked Sarah Felsen sharply. “What are you babbling about?”

“Gio … Gio Gonzalez. Just look at him.” I gestured toward the TV screen where Washington's gorgeous right-handed pitcher delivered a low strike. “He's almost perfect.”

“He's an athlete being athletic. They're supposed to be perfect. They're paid millions to be perfect. Stop drooling before Frank catches you.”

“Frank's the one who pointed him out to me. Jeez! Watch him bend over ...” Gio bent to pick up the resin bag and displayed a perfect ass, if you like 'em a little beefy.

“Refo, get serious a minute. I want to ask you something ...” She actually waited for me to look her in the eye and then took a breath. “Ok, here goes. Will you be my man of honor for the wedding?”

That took me aback. “What about your sister? What about Vicki?”

“I don't love them. Especially not my sister. She'll just find some way to gloat.”

“Sarah, I'm … really touched.”

“But? I'm hearing a but.” Here was my chance, my shot at payback for all the shit she had pulled on me over the years; one final gotcha! One last chance to nail her fuckin' goat to the wall …

“But I've already promised Will I'd be an usher.” That part was true. “I've already got my clothes.” That part wasn't.

“Clothes? But we haven't decided on anything yet.” She was puzzled.

“Will and I thought something with a local flavor would be best. So I shopped early at the Dollar Store ...”

“The Dollar Store!!!” Her eyes got really big.

“The one in Strasburg? And got this ...” I pulled my planned Halloween costume out of the closet. I showed her the dungaree coveralls, the blue and white checked shirt, and the straw hat. “We're still looking for a green bandana. Will said green, blue, and white were the colors of the Perry silks when his grandfather used to race horses.”

“HILLBILLY DRAG!” I had never seen her looking so pale, not even when she was sick. “WILLIS!” she screamed at her phone while still thumbing some text into it. She stifled a sob and hurried to her bedroom.

I waited for her to get a denial from Will and then come back at me screaming. Nothing. I waited some more. Still nothing. I knocked softly on her bedroom door. “Sarah?”

She opened the door dressed very smartly in a gray suit, heels, the works … She could have been a 'Mad Men' dress extra.“I'm meeting Marlee Perry for lunch in Little Washington. It's sort of a bridal shower. Will is in class and not answering his phone. I'm glad you told me ...” She brushed past me heading for the door.

'Little' Washington has essentially one restaurant, The Inn. The only way to be sure of getting a reservation in the five-star restaurant is to stay at the Inn. The place is booked ahead for months. I had never been there, but I knew one thing about it. “I thought they only served dinner.”

“Marlee has rented the whole place. Today they're serving lunch,” Sarah Felsen explained.

“Get the apple tart and bring some home in a box?” I appealed. Charlie said the Inn at Little Washington had the best apple tart in the world.

“A doggie bag? You want me to ask for a doggie bag? Refo, that is so …” She swept out the door without fully describing just how churlish she thought asking for a take-home box is.

I got my morning chores done and waited for Tyler to bring my Jeep back from his counseling session. I had convinced him to talk to a social worker and psychologist I knew at the hospital. My social/psych friend was straight as an arrow but very broad-minded and accepting, by which I mean he felt gay was just another form of normal and that maladjusted gays could and should be helped. Now I confess that defining maladjusted becomes more and more difficult as the outer limits of normality keep expanding, but thinking you are getting raped all the time does seem like something that Tyler could work on profitably under any definition of normal.

Tyler has been to only one session so far but he was approaching the second with a positive attitude, I thought. At least it seemed that way from what he had told me. So I wasn't too worried that he was late getting back; my only worry was that he would in turn make me late getting to work by noon. I was thinking I should have gone with him and let him take the Jeep home. I could get Frank to pick me up. I decided I'd do that next time just as he pulled up to the barn. He walked in, handed me the keys to the Jeep and sat down.

“Yes???” I prodded. “How did it go?”

“Fine,” he said cryptically and gave me a Cheshire cat smile, begging to be asked more.

“I'll catch up with that later. Gotta go or I'll be late,” I explained.

“You got any pot?” he asked, still grinning.

“NO!” I answered. From his manner I wondered if he'd already smoked some; but I had no time to worry about that.

I drove a little fast and got to work just as my morning guy was getting ready to leave. “Reef, Nick Colette wants to see you when you have a chance.”

I looked at the workload schedule and got a few assays going before I called Nick, Tyler's counselor. He answered on the first ring. “How's my project going? I asked him.

“You know I can't discuss that,” he hissed. “But I've got to talk to you. When are you taking a break?”

At 3 P.M. I sat with my coffee and waited. Nick arrived in the break room with a bottle of Coke and said, “Outside ...” I followed him into the warmth of the afternoon.

“What's wrong?”

“That kid is fucked up beyond all possibility of remediation!”

“I thought you couldn't discuss his case.”

“Then let's discuss mine! What do I tell the disciplinary committee when they find out I fucked a patient?”

“What? Who?”

Nick was talking very fast and pacing. “Tyler, of course. He tried to seduce me. I mean he succeeded. He just … What am I going to tell my wife?”

“Nothing, I hope. He ...”

“He twists all my logic. And makes everything seem my fault. And it all seems so plausible when he says it ...”

“Everything? You've only seen him twice.”

“Which is an eternity in his case, Refo.” Nick looked at me pathetically. “I actually fucked him!” he whispered to himself. “He's so damn persuasive! He made it seem so reasonable … clinical … a process … part of a cure … He needed to get fucked and accept it for what it was ...”

“When you were done did he threaten to scream rape?”

“No, he said it was nice and ...”

“Well, that was an accomplishment, Nick. At least you got past the rape business.” I tried to point out the bright side.

“Refo,” Nick hissed. “I fucked a man. I'm one hundred percent straight. I love my wife. I have never strayed before. With anybody! I have kids. Responsibilities. A promising future!”

“So how has any of that changed? Provided Tyler keeps his mouth shut. And YOU keep your mouth shut.”

“Tyler feels he needs more than one treatment.”

“Oh.” I grimaced, knowing what he was going to say.

“I told him yes.” Nick's eyes were wild at the incomprehensibility of his actions.

“No.”

“Yes! What does that make me?”

“Surely you're not the only analyst who has been manipulated by a patient, Nick. It happens. We make mistakes. We're human.”

“We're fucked up, is what we are. I am, anyway.” He hung his head. “And you know what's really fucked up? When he left … and I thought about what I had done, I got an erection!”

He choked on the last of his Coke and I watched him walk quickly back inside the hospital. It's a total mystery - sex – and attraction – and human behavior. I wondered what possibly could have possessed Tyler to try even to seduce Nick. Nick was thirty something and starting to get a little thick in the waist, going a little bald on top. He was average, I guess, but he was not exactly hot at all.

I got home as the last of the sun fading. There was Tyler, lying shirtless on top of the picnic table and looking across the valley at the sunset. He grinned at me.

“You had a busy morning,” I commented to him.

“I did,” he agreed.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not especially.”

I went inside and saw Sarah and Frank watching baseball. “I get Gio,” she said to Frank, “but this Strasburg guy looks like such a hick he could actually be from Strasburg, Virginia.”

“He's from San Diego,” Frank commented as they turned to acknowledge me.

“Refo, there is part of an apple tart on the table in the kitchen. Turned out, there were take-home boxes at every place setting – all done up in green, blue, and white ribbons.” Sarah laughed to herself and explained the colors to Frank, “The Perry livery, m' dear.”

 

[Kyanimal]

HA! Awesome chapter, Buddy!

Oh! The tangled webs we weave ...

More typing is certainly needed here!

Keep Smilin'!!
Chaz

 

[Craiger]

How funny!!! Tyler is the Devil incarnate. Poor Nick, even through his well earned degrees, has been manipulated by a professional. In some ways, I am in awe of Tyler. Thank goodness I will never meet him....

Obviously Marlee was able to soothe Sarah and her repulsion of the wedding colors. These people are all kooks and I love them all.

Craiger

 

[DonQuixote]

Rory,
I enjoyed reading this before I left work Friday - but I had a sales conference to go to - I went from work to work/overnighter, and the hotel wifi sucked in my area of the hotel.

I thoroughly enjoyed the chapter - that whoreson hypnotist Tyler included. Poor Nick. Straight as an arrow and still dipping his wick in Tyler's ink well.

And, I wonder how many pieced Sarah will carve Refo into when she finds out the truth of his humorous antics?!

As for Jocks and nicely packaged equipment, ... Need we say more?!

 

[EasyRory]

Chapter Fifty-Eight - Tony


My professor said it's almost impossible for an actor to portray accurately an emotion that he has not experienced. The counter-argument, he said, it that the actor is just a tool, the emotions are provided by the author and the director. The actor is to theater as the model is to painting. He also said experiencing the actual emotion can hinder acting, in that the performance is then permanently colored by the actor's own emotion.

Bull shit, I think, which is the trouble with school. All I know is I want to experience everything and not like it's a plate of antipasto, a little of this, a little of that. I want to dig in; I want the whole experience. Which is why I can't wait to see Vince again. I thought I was in love with him, but Roy has convinced me it was just a major crush. Gotta find out.

“You can't love somebody after eighteen hours of sex, no matter how good it was,” Roy told me.

“It was awesome.”

“I know, but still … My friend Refo - you met him the last time, remember? – he says he used to fall madly in love with everybody who fucked him. One good fuck was all it took, he said, and ka-POW! He was a goner. It took him forever, he said, to figure out the difference between lust and love.”

“It happened a lot?”

“Weekly, Charlie said; but Refo said Charlie exaggerates.” Roy chuckled.

Charlie is the official reason I'm on this trip to Harrisonburg with Roy. Vince is the real reason, of course. Maybe Roy's right, but my case of lust seems to be s lot like love in that Vince is just about all I can think of. One good fuck was all Refo needed and Vince fucked me four times. Four is more than enough. I can remember every time. I jack off to them in succession. The second time was maybe the best, when he teased me – wouldn't kiss me until he was in me and then he just about ate me alive. Shit, I'm getting painfully hard sitting here Roy's car. Let's think about something else.

“You think Charlie's a good lawyer, Roy?”

“Dunno. He seems to think of all the business angles. Mike likes him.”

“He wants me to sign an agency agreement with that art gallery and let them promote me. Apparently fuckin' Tyler owns all the rights to the paintings outright and he can do anything he wants because of the model release I signed. Charlie says if the gallery makes prints, which they have the right to do, I could get some pay every time they sold one. It's not even a dollar a print, but it's something and it could lead to more if
I do any more work.”

“You gonna do more?” Roy asked, followed by punching the brakes and “FUCK!” when a step van cut him off.

“I don't know. Charlie says that fake masturbation thing is getting some notice.”

“That fake masturbation thing, as you call it, is pretty awesome. The colors … it makes me almost FEEL you cumming.” He slowed for the congestion of a major interchange. “You want to stop and get some coffee?” We were at the junction of I-64 and I-95, on the north side of Richmond and a break sounded good to me.

“It was totally fake. You know that, right? I never posed for Tyler like that. He just invented the whole thing.”

“Yeah, but it looks so real! Those reds and oranges … like you were ready to ...”

“I WASN”T. He made it up.”

Back on the road, heading west, we sipped our coffees through little slits in the lids. “Ah … plastic-flavored coffee!” Roy sighed.

“How did you and Mike get together? Nothing rushed? A gradual thing?”

“Very gradual. I thought he never fuck me.”

“Why?”

“He's very considerate. Too considerate, really.” I didn't get Roy's point and prodded him for more. “He's got a big dick. I know, I know … but I'm telling you it's seriously big. He was afraid he'd hurt me … Actually he did hurt me, but I'd never tell him that … When we get together, after being apart like this, it's really painful to get back to regular sex. But when I do, it's worth it.”

“Do you fuck him?”

“Of course. Not enough, he says. But … I don't know, I really like it the other way. He does, too.”

“So you fell in love with a good fuck, too? I thought you said ...”

“Maybe don't listen so much to what I say,” Roy stopped and smiled to himself. He didn't have to tell me he was reliving some particularly good fuck in his head. He coughed and drank the last of his coffee. “Uh, this bachelor party for Will is going to be a little freaky. Have you ever heard of a gay-straight bachelor party?”

“Glad I'm not going. I'm not much of a drinker, so they're not fun. A bunch of regular guys suddenly turned into drunken assholes.”

“Will's having a bunch of straight dudes from JMU and a bunch of gay dudes … from what? The rest of his life? Are they gonna have strippers? What sex?”

We lapsed into silence for a while and I think I dozed off. Roy dropped me at Charlie's office and right before he drove away he said, “Uh, Tony … Mike said this last summer Vince and a guy named Otis had something nice going, but Otis was murdered. Just so you know … Call if you need a ride.”

Vince beamed at me when I walked it. It was like walking on stage into a spotlight. I smiled back. “Alright,” Charlie growled with as much masculinity as Charlie can muster. “Here are the agreements. You want to read them or do you trust me?” We both looked at him. “Basically it gives the gallery the right to promote and manage you as models for forty-five percent of your earnings up to fifty thousand and twenty-five percent above that. You don't have to accept every assignment they come up with, but if you refuse more than twice, they can dump you. And they will dump you. Trust me.”

“So if we made fifty thousand, we would get ...” I tried doing the sum in my head.

“Twenty-seven five, less taxes,” Vince said. “Net, after the feds and Virginia suck us dry, about twenty thousand.” Charlie looked at him with surprize and pleasure. “Which isn't bad, considering the effort expended, right?” Vince continued. We signed and left the office.

As we walked out the door, Vince whispered, “Charlie's checking out our asses. Can you feel it?” I felt nothing and laughed, which earned me another of Vince's smiles.

We got sandwiches and drove down to the river. I hoped this picnic would turn out as hot as the one outside Fredericksburg. “Charlie's friend Jodie owns this land. Mike said Jody has lured half the gay guys in Virginia here and fucked 'em. Before he married Charlie, of course.”

Vince put our food down on the ground and looked at me. Without a word he unbuttoned the top button of my shirt and spread the collar wide. He kissed my neck right where it meets my collarbone. I pulled him against me and then felt his hands gripping my ass. I was so ready for him, wanting his dick in me. He began working on the buttons of my shirt and I reached for his t, to pull it over his head. He said no and took my shirt off. Then he sank to his knees and undid my pants, pulling them to my ankles with little wasted motion. He nuzzled my hard cock and then began sucking me. He paused only to say “Your dick is perfect,” before he finished me off. I came and went weak in the knees. He had to hold me up which was a pretty amazing trick while he was still sucking me. He's much stronger than I thought. Finally he let me down onto the grass. “I wanted to fuck you, but I didn't have any lube,” he said.

I looked at him lying back, with dappled sun on his face, making his blond hair sparkle, I wiped a bit of my cum off his cheek and took a breath. Three words, I love you, so easy to say until you try to say them. “Vince … I ...”

“Don't say it. I'm sorry. I didn't even ask. I just assumed you would want to ...”

“I did … I do ...” I tried to say.

He gave me an exaggerated wet kiss and said, “Good. Let's eat.”

We ate and talked. “In the fifth grade,” he said, in response to my demand to know his life's history, “it started. Somehow everybody figured out I was the strange one. They called me gay and I didn't even know what that meant. I just knew it wasn't good from the way guys said it. My momma cried when I asked her. So I became gay Vince. No friends. That stuff. Finally in the tenth grade, after this jock spilled my lunch tray and called me a faggot, I exploded. I figured I was gonna get demolished, but I didn't care. I came up out of my chair and hit him in the stomach. He didn't expect it and went down, hitting his face on the corner of a table. We grappled on the floor without landing any serious blows until the monitors broke us up. Got suspended,” he laughed. “Three days. Momma was pissed, but she didn't blame me. I went back to school and saw the other guy with a huge shiner. Not a mark on me. Course, I didn't give him the shiner, the table did. But it looked awesome and the more he tried to tell people the table did it, the more they believed I did it.”

I interrupted him with a kiss.

“After that, the taunting stopped. I still didn't have many friends or anything, but I was accepted. Tolerated, maybe. Even Harding, the guy who started it, would say hello and how'd you do on the test and stuff, but I never got invited to parties or anything. And then it was over, high school, I mean. The bad stuff ended.”

He paused and ate the rest of his sandwich. “Sex? That came later. I started going to some bars in Strasburg, where nobody knew me. I wasn't old enough to drink, so I'd have Coke and something to eat. One day a trucker heading down I-81 asked me if I'd like to see his truck. He sorta forced me, but I was willing enough. Gave him a blow job. I wasn't very good and he told me so. 'Want you better, boy, by the next time I'm though here,' he said. And a couple of months later, the next time I saw him, I was. A better cocksucker, that is. Then he complained I was a lousy fuck. So I had to work on that.” Vince laughed and stopped the story. “And that's pretty much it … my life so far.”

I kissed him and he kissed me back. A nice comfortable kiss. I didn't ask about Otis. “I don't think you're a lousy fuck, Vince. I think you're the best in the world.”

“Tony, I wanted to fuck you the minute I saw you at Charlie's, but I didn't have any lube and so if you want to wait until ...”

I found my pants, fished a condom out of the pocket, and handed it to him. “Pre-lubed,” I said. “Is the size ok? They didn't have humongous.”

We laughed and kissed and fucked and I was so blow away I forgot to tell him I love him. My Vince is big, but he's not humongous. My word for him is fabulous and that's good enough, right? Considering I love him, I mean.