EasyRory
JUB Addict
That's my fault for writing so slowly these days. Maybe If you read a couple chaprters at a time ... I wish I could crank out two chapters a week, like the good old days; but my life has changed.
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Fauquier County Whatever
- Thread starter EasyRory
- Start date
That's my fault for writing so slowly these days. Maybe If you read a couple chaprters at a time ... I wish I could crank out two chapters a week, like the good old days; but my life has changed.
Rory,
It's the time and all of our lives - I've been a bit under the weather and running full bore - including our maiden trip to NYC and Broadway last weekend.
I love all of your characters, and still pine for some of them from long ago and far away.
It's the time and all of our lives - I've been a bit under the weather and running full bore - including our maiden trip to NYC and Broadway last weekend.
I love all of your characters, and still pine for some of them from long ago and far away.
- Joined
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Hey, Rory ...
I know what you mean about the writing thing. My life has also been dealt some unexpected turns, on several different levels, and is no longer the same.
In addition to that, or maybe even because of that, I allowed my characters to lead me on a little detour. Now I'm feeling a bit lost, and unsure how to write my way back to the main road.
Our stories are a great escape from our own realities, and that's why I've enjoyed writing mine, and reading yours, and that of others.
And, now, Reality has been distracting me from the delightful distractions of creating, and also exploring the worlds artfully weaved by others' imaginations.
While I find myself numbly standing in what seems to be a cul de sac in my story, I'm even more eager to read the continuation of your imaginary world.
In other words, whenever you are able to get back to the keyboard, THANK YOU!
So, yeah! ... No Matter What ...
Keep Smilin', and Typin'!!
Chaz
I know what you mean about the writing thing. My life has also been dealt some unexpected turns, on several different levels, and is no longer the same.
In addition to that, or maybe even because of that, I allowed my characters to lead me on a little detour. Now I'm feeling a bit lost, and unsure how to write my way back to the main road.
Our stories are a great escape from our own realities, and that's why I've enjoyed writing mine, and reading yours, and that of others.
And, now, Reality has been distracting me from the delightful distractions of creating, and also exploring the worlds artfully weaved by others' imaginations.
While I find myself numbly standing in what seems to be a cul de sac in my story, I'm even more eager to read the continuation of your imaginary world.
In other words, whenever you are able to get back to the keyboard, THANK YOU!
So, yeah! ... No Matter What ...
Keep Smilin', and Typin'!!
Chaz
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Thirty-One - Richard
“Does this always have to be a rape scenario?” His words were slurred, but the meaning was clear. I had pinned Will to the kitchen table and was trying to get his pants off. There was more struggling than I expected, he wasn't as drunk as he first seemed.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I give up. Just fuck me and get it over with.” He stopped struggling and helped me slide his jeans down. His ass looked so inviting. White, plump, and vulnerable.
“F-f-fuck!” he gasped as I enter him. “Damn, that's a big dick.” He lay motionless as I pumped his ass.
“Racer used to fuck you. It's no bigger than his.” I slammed into him harder oddly annoyed that I wasn't getting more complaints from him.
“Racer fucked everybody ...” God damn, it sounded like he was going to sleep. I gave him all I had and got a muffled grunt in return. “Aren't you done yet?”
For the first time in my life I faked an orgasm. I managed a few frantic thrusts and some groans before my dick went limp. What a turn-off indifference is. “Yeah, I'm done,” I told him. He got up, laughed, and gave me a token kiss on the cheek.
“You asshole! You never came, did you? What's the matter? Do you need the violence?” He wasn't nearly as drunk as I thought.
“Of course I came,” I lied. “Why are you asking me? You're the straight guy.” It took me about three seconds to realize that made no logical sense, but I felt defensive.
“Straight,” he laughed in disgust. “More or less.”
“What's that mean?” He ignored me. “Will? What does that mean? More or less.”
“It means marrying a lesbian wasn't such a good idea. It means sex with Racer and Buddy wasn't any better. It means getting raped by you every now and then sucks. It means I basically don't give a shit.”
“So why'd you do it?” I wasn't sure why we were having such a civilized, impersonal conversation considering our history.
“Momma says in the whole world there are only two motives: revenge and wishful thinking. Take your pick.”
“But … what about love or loyalty or charity or ...?”
“All wishful thinking, according to her.”
We just kind of looked at each other. I could smell alcohol on his breath, but he didn't seem drunk at all now. He turned from me and went to his refrigerator. He opened the door and looked in. “You want some used chicken?” He pulled out a KFC tub. “I don't really like fried chicken. Some Southern boy, huh? But if I have to eat it, I like it cold and salty.” He reached into a cabinet for a salt shaker.
“How old is that chicken?”
“Yesterday,” he said. “I had the kids over and they like it. This is what's left of a twelve piece bucket.” I got two plates out of a cabinet and two glasses. Will put the bucket and a pitcher of iced tea on the table.
“How old's the tea?” I asked him.
“This morning. I'm drinking it.” He sat and we picked at the chicken.
“Why'd you marry her?”
“She had … she has a nice set of tits. And I think I kind of got off on the idea that I was making a lesbian happy. Not every boy can say that. And she was pregnant. Possibilities for happily-ever-after seemed to exist. Wishful thinking, right? You want a cookie? She made them.”
“Are they poisoned?” Will looked at me and decided I was joking.
“I don't think so. She was grateful I took the kids for an extra day. She always could make good cookies.”
The used chicken and the tea were so-so, but the cookies were good. Nothing super-special, just standard chocolate chip; but very good. I had two. By the time I finished the second one, I felt well fed and oddly mellow. I confessed to Will that I hadn't got off screwing him, which he thought was pretty funny.
“Were the other times fake, too?”
“No. When I thought you were fightin' me, I thought it was pretty hot. It's when you laid back and took it, like you didn't care one way or the other … that was a total turn-off. I was afraid I'd go limp before I even had a chance to fake it.”
“Hmm. Am I like … not hot enough for you?” Somehow we both thought that was funny, as in just about the funniest thing we'd ever heard. Will managed to stop laughing long enough to say, “Something's IN these cookies.” And then he laughed harder. And then I laughed harder. Eventually we stopped. “Fuckin' Sarah!” Will said and we started laughing again.
“It's not pot. Pot makes me really thirsty and I'm not thirsty.” Plus I didn't feel buzzed, just super-mellow. I glanced at Will and he was smiling back.
“If you'd got off, you'd be thirsty. Sex always makes me thirsty.”
“Most of the time sex makes me feel pissed off. Not all the time, just most of the time.” Why did I tell him that? Thinking about it, it was true, but I'd never thought that before.
“That's 'cause you don't respect your partner.”
“Do you?”
“Hell, no! Not when it's YOU!” That started Will laughing again, but not so hard this time. “What was your best sex ever?” he asked me.
“With Buddy I think ... when we were both just learning how.”
“Buddy? My step-father? Or whatever he is? Did you fuck him?”
That was a very personal question. Normally I wouldn't let anybody ask me something that … intimate; but somehow I didn't mind. I answered him with maybe too much detail. “You told us to take turns.”
“I told you?” Obviously Will had no recollection of his lecture at Goose Creek.
“Remember two kids you met skinny dipping at Goose Creek? We watched Racer fuck you and that inspired me to fuck Buddy and then you demanded I let him fu ...”
“Damn … that was you and Buddy?”
“It was. You know Racer bought that land? He wants to preserve it for skinny dipping forever, he says.”
“No shit!”
“Yes shit. I told him not to; Tommy Lynn told him not to, money down the drain; but he went ahead anyway and bought seventeen acres ...”
“No, I mean no shit about you and Buddy.”
“We went to high school together. I've been queer since I learned to talk, but Buddy needed some convincing about being gay. I believe you convinced him. And you're not even gay. Er, I mean you are straight, right?”
“Like I said, more or less. My father's gay. My REAL father's gay. My mother's a diva. What are my chances of being totally straight?”
“You have pretty eyes.” Whoa! Did I say that? Well, he does.
“Sarah used to tell me the same thing.” He smiled with resignation and his eyes sparkled in the late day sun. All I wanted to do was stare at him.
“It's not too late, Will. You're how old? Thirty?”
“Ha! Twenty-seven. Do I look thirty?”
“Thirty … twenty-seven … not much difference. If you worked out a little ,,, and got more sleep … and a better haircut … you could have any girl in the county.”
“Or any boy?”
“Me. You could have me.”
“I believe you mean that. Thank you. Uh … So just what IS your interest in me? Why are you taking the time and trouble?”
“I had impure motives.”
He laughed. “So you DO like raping me.”
“No, I wanted to get back at Tommy Lynn. For dumping me and marrying Buddy. See Tommy Lynn and I were unofficially engaged. But I wanted to delay and he wanted to get married. I don't know what his hurry was, but I said no and he 'moved on' without me.”
“See! Revenge, just like Momma said. How exactly do I fit into this?”
“I hadn't worked tht out completely. I was trying to make you dependent on me. Alcoholics get that way. Save you and stuff. Make you grateful. Get back at Tommy Lynn by getting you involved with me.”
“I'm not an alcoholic, you know. I don't NEED to drink, I do it 'cause I just don't give a shit.” I looked at him skeptically. “I know. 'That's what they all say.' That's what you're thinking, isn't it, Richard?”
“I'm not judging you, Will. I'm getting to like you.”
“Really?” His eyes opened wide. Pretty eyes. Sarah was right.
“Damn. Did your wife put truth serum in these cookies? Yes, really.”
“So how would you get back at Tommy Lynn by saving me?”
“He wants you to have the income from his business. Eventually, you know, after he passes. But he wants George and me to run it. So he was going to give us shared voting control. Neither one could act without the other. And give you participating preferred shares that could only vote under certain circumstances like dissolution or sale of the business. I was hoping to get you onto my side.”
“Are you and George enemies?”
“No, George doesn't even know about any of this.”
“But you do?”
“Tommy Lynn and I were sort of engaged. He trusted me, told me his plans. Then ...”
“You know what we ought to do?” He had lost interest in the business arrangements. “We ought to head on over to Goose Creek and go swimmin'.”
“Your plan is we freeze our balls off and live happily ever after as eunuchs?” No response. “It's December, Will. It's getting' dark out, Will.”
“I was thinking it would be fun to get naked with you.” He explained. “You have a monster cock. I'd like to see it when it's tame. You know, check out what's been fuckin' me.”
I was shocked. I was flattered. I was willing. “We don't have to go to Goose Creek for that to happen.”
“Show me,” he asked and honest to God I felt shy doing it. “It's big even when it's soft. Can I touch it? I'm more regular sized.”
“Show me,” I countered and he did. “It looks great on you.”
“Good, 'cause I wasn't plannin' to cut it off.” We laughed. I touched him and felt his warmth. I wanted him and said so.
“I think I love you, Will Perry.”
“Bullshit, but you could do worse,” he said with a wry smile. “It's probably Sarah's ecstasy cookies makin' you say that.”
“You knew there was E in them?”
“I didn't; but I suspected.”
I stayed with him in the barn that night and woke up in his bed. The nice thing about E is you don't forget what happened the night before. All the talk and all the fuckin' was still in my mind, but that wasn't what I talked about. “Will, I'm thirsty.”
“Do you still love me?” He challenged.
“I love your regular-sized dick,” I answered.
“I got orange juice. Is that ok, Richie?”
I hated that nickname. It always sounded so childish; but, the way Will said it, I wanted to hear him say it again. I wanted him to fuck me again.
“Does this always have to be a rape scenario?” His words were slurred, but the meaning was clear. I had pinned Will to the kitchen table and was trying to get his pants off. There was more struggling than I expected, he wasn't as drunk as he first seemed.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I give up. Just fuck me and get it over with.” He stopped struggling and helped me slide his jeans down. His ass looked so inviting. White, plump, and vulnerable.
“F-f-fuck!” he gasped as I enter him. “Damn, that's a big dick.” He lay motionless as I pumped his ass.
“Racer used to fuck you. It's no bigger than his.” I slammed into him harder oddly annoyed that I wasn't getting more complaints from him.
“Racer fucked everybody ...” God damn, it sounded like he was going to sleep. I gave him all I had and got a muffled grunt in return. “Aren't you done yet?”
For the first time in my life I faked an orgasm. I managed a few frantic thrusts and some groans before my dick went limp. What a turn-off indifference is. “Yeah, I'm done,” I told him. He got up, laughed, and gave me a token kiss on the cheek.
“You asshole! You never came, did you? What's the matter? Do you need the violence?” He wasn't nearly as drunk as I thought.
“Of course I came,” I lied. “Why are you asking me? You're the straight guy.” It took me about three seconds to realize that made no logical sense, but I felt defensive.
“Straight,” he laughed in disgust. “More or less.”
“What's that mean?” He ignored me. “Will? What does that mean? More or less.”
“It means marrying a lesbian wasn't such a good idea. It means sex with Racer and Buddy wasn't any better. It means getting raped by you every now and then sucks. It means I basically don't give a shit.”
“So why'd you do it?” I wasn't sure why we were having such a civilized, impersonal conversation considering our history.
“Momma says in the whole world there are only two motives: revenge and wishful thinking. Take your pick.”
“But … what about love or loyalty or charity or ...?”
“All wishful thinking, according to her.”
We just kind of looked at each other. I could smell alcohol on his breath, but he didn't seem drunk at all now. He turned from me and went to his refrigerator. He opened the door and looked in. “You want some used chicken?” He pulled out a KFC tub. “I don't really like fried chicken. Some Southern boy, huh? But if I have to eat it, I like it cold and salty.” He reached into a cabinet for a salt shaker.
“How old is that chicken?”
“Yesterday,” he said. “I had the kids over and they like it. This is what's left of a twelve piece bucket.” I got two plates out of a cabinet and two glasses. Will put the bucket and a pitcher of iced tea on the table.
“How old's the tea?” I asked him.
“This morning. I'm drinking it.” He sat and we picked at the chicken.
“Why'd you marry her?”
“She had … she has a nice set of tits. And I think I kind of got off on the idea that I was making a lesbian happy. Not every boy can say that. And she was pregnant. Possibilities for happily-ever-after seemed to exist. Wishful thinking, right? You want a cookie? She made them.”
“Are they poisoned?” Will looked at me and decided I was joking.
“I don't think so. She was grateful I took the kids for an extra day. She always could make good cookies.”
The used chicken and the tea were so-so, but the cookies were good. Nothing super-special, just standard chocolate chip; but very good. I had two. By the time I finished the second one, I felt well fed and oddly mellow. I confessed to Will that I hadn't got off screwing him, which he thought was pretty funny.
“Were the other times fake, too?”
“No. When I thought you were fightin' me, I thought it was pretty hot. It's when you laid back and took it, like you didn't care one way or the other … that was a total turn-off. I was afraid I'd go limp before I even had a chance to fake it.”
“Hmm. Am I like … not hot enough for you?” Somehow we both thought that was funny, as in just about the funniest thing we'd ever heard. Will managed to stop laughing long enough to say, “Something's IN these cookies.” And then he laughed harder. And then I laughed harder. Eventually we stopped. “Fuckin' Sarah!” Will said and we started laughing again.
“It's not pot. Pot makes me really thirsty and I'm not thirsty.” Plus I didn't feel buzzed, just super-mellow. I glanced at Will and he was smiling back.
“If you'd got off, you'd be thirsty. Sex always makes me thirsty.”
“Most of the time sex makes me feel pissed off. Not all the time, just most of the time.” Why did I tell him that? Thinking about it, it was true, but I'd never thought that before.
“That's 'cause you don't respect your partner.”
“Do you?”
“Hell, no! Not when it's YOU!” That started Will laughing again, but not so hard this time. “What was your best sex ever?” he asked me.
“With Buddy I think ... when we were both just learning how.”
“Buddy? My step-father? Or whatever he is? Did you fuck him?”
That was a very personal question. Normally I wouldn't let anybody ask me something that … intimate; but somehow I didn't mind. I answered him with maybe too much detail. “You told us to take turns.”
“I told you?” Obviously Will had no recollection of his lecture at Goose Creek.
“Remember two kids you met skinny dipping at Goose Creek? We watched Racer fuck you and that inspired me to fuck Buddy and then you demanded I let him fu ...”
“Damn … that was you and Buddy?”
“It was. You know Racer bought that land? He wants to preserve it for skinny dipping forever, he says.”
“No shit!”
“Yes shit. I told him not to; Tommy Lynn told him not to, money down the drain; but he went ahead anyway and bought seventeen acres ...”
“No, I mean no shit about you and Buddy.”
“We went to high school together. I've been queer since I learned to talk, but Buddy needed some convincing about being gay. I believe you convinced him. And you're not even gay. Er, I mean you are straight, right?”
“Like I said, more or less. My father's gay. My REAL father's gay. My mother's a diva. What are my chances of being totally straight?”
“You have pretty eyes.” Whoa! Did I say that? Well, he does.
“Sarah used to tell me the same thing.” He smiled with resignation and his eyes sparkled in the late day sun. All I wanted to do was stare at him.
“It's not too late, Will. You're how old? Thirty?”
“Ha! Twenty-seven. Do I look thirty?”
“Thirty … twenty-seven … not much difference. If you worked out a little ,,, and got more sleep … and a better haircut … you could have any girl in the county.”
“Or any boy?”
“Me. You could have me.”
“I believe you mean that. Thank you. Uh … So just what IS your interest in me? Why are you taking the time and trouble?”
“I had impure motives.”
He laughed. “So you DO like raping me.”
“No, I wanted to get back at Tommy Lynn. For dumping me and marrying Buddy. See Tommy Lynn and I were unofficially engaged. But I wanted to delay and he wanted to get married. I don't know what his hurry was, but I said no and he 'moved on' without me.”
“See! Revenge, just like Momma said. How exactly do I fit into this?”
“I hadn't worked tht out completely. I was trying to make you dependent on me. Alcoholics get that way. Save you and stuff. Make you grateful. Get back at Tommy Lynn by getting you involved with me.”
“I'm not an alcoholic, you know. I don't NEED to drink, I do it 'cause I just don't give a shit.” I looked at him skeptically. “I know. 'That's what they all say.' That's what you're thinking, isn't it, Richard?”
“I'm not judging you, Will. I'm getting to like you.”
“Really?” His eyes opened wide. Pretty eyes. Sarah was right.
“Damn. Did your wife put truth serum in these cookies? Yes, really.”
“So how would you get back at Tommy Lynn by saving me?”
“He wants you to have the income from his business. Eventually, you know, after he passes. But he wants George and me to run it. So he was going to give us shared voting control. Neither one could act without the other. And give you participating preferred shares that could only vote under certain circumstances like dissolution or sale of the business. I was hoping to get you onto my side.”
“Are you and George enemies?”
“No, George doesn't even know about any of this.”
“But you do?”
“Tommy Lynn and I were sort of engaged. He trusted me, told me his plans. Then ...”
“You know what we ought to do?” He had lost interest in the business arrangements. “We ought to head on over to Goose Creek and go swimmin'.”
“Your plan is we freeze our balls off and live happily ever after as eunuchs?” No response. “It's December, Will. It's getting' dark out, Will.”
“I was thinking it would be fun to get naked with you.” He explained. “You have a monster cock. I'd like to see it when it's tame. You know, check out what's been fuckin' me.”
I was shocked. I was flattered. I was willing. “We don't have to go to Goose Creek for that to happen.”
“Show me,” he asked and honest to God I felt shy doing it. “It's big even when it's soft. Can I touch it? I'm more regular sized.”
“Show me,” I countered and he did. “It looks great on you.”
“Good, 'cause I wasn't plannin' to cut it off.” We laughed. I touched him and felt his warmth. I wanted him and said so.
“I think I love you, Will Perry.”
“Bullshit, but you could do worse,” he said with a wry smile. “It's probably Sarah's ecstasy cookies makin' you say that.”
“You knew there was E in them?”
“I didn't; but I suspected.”
I stayed with him in the barn that night and woke up in his bed. The nice thing about E is you don't forget what happened the night before. All the talk and all the fuckin' was still in my mind, but that wasn't what I talked about. “Will, I'm thirsty.”
“Do you still love me?” He challenged.
“I love your regular-sized dick,” I answered.
“I got orange juice. Is that ok, Richie?”
I hated that nickname. It always sounded so childish; but, the way Will said it, I wanted to hear him say it again. I wanted him to fuck me again.
- Joined
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"Richie" wants Will to fuck him?
Oh, My! How the tables have turned!
I've never been a fan of "Richie", however, now, well, maybe ...
He might have a Heart?
Keep Writin' and Smilin'!!
Chaz
Oh, My! How the tables have turned!
I've never been a fan of "Richie", however, now, well, maybe ...
He might have a Heart?
Keep Writin' and Smilin'!!
Chaz
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Thirty-Three - Richard
“I tell you, Buddy, there's something weird going on with Richard. This morning he literally floated into the office. I swear his feet weren't touching the ground. It's like he was an alien drone of something. 'Good morning my little chickadees,' he said to Euie and me and kissed me on the top of my head and said to Euie, 'You're the most handsome man I've seen today.” Now it was only nine in the morning, but still ...”
“Euie IS a handsome man, Mac.”
“Yes, he is; but Richard never said so before. It's not the kind of thing Richard would say, not even to Nathan Stephenson.”
“Who is Nathan Stephenson?”
“Buddy ...” I knew I sounded whiny, but come on! “Nathan Stephenson is like the best looking young actor since … forever.”
“Is he black?”
“Yes. Half, maybe. He's got the prettiest amber colored eyes ...”
“I thought you were over that fixation.”
“We're talking about Richard, here. Not me.”
Enough of eavesdropping on bullshit; I entered the room. “Talking about me, are you?”
“Andrew ...” Mac sputtered.
“I can't even give people a cherry good morning without the presumption of motive,” I said to Buddy.
“Maybe if you did it more often, you wouldn't get that reaction,” Buddy answered with a smile. God damn, he gets sexier looking every day; if only it weren't for that TINY dick of his.
“Anyway, it's Friday and there are many reasons to be feeling good. Like I have a date tonight. A real date. Sort of. At least I've been invited to dinner for two.” It's true, I don't get that many invitations. I don't know why, really; I'm a good conversationalist, I have decent table manners, and I have a HUGE dick.
“Congratulations, professor.”
“Professor? What's that mean?” Did they know about Professor Inglis and the Heritage Society? Ok, there is no Heritage Society, but there is that chain of Inglis proteges of which the latest example was fucking George Brightwater, that little prick. Hollis, I mean, not George. Hollis may be the last of the Heritage Society. He's fucked it up. Oh well, it was nice while it lasted and I have nothing more to gain, except sampling the goods now and then.
I settled down to work. There were four individual portfolios that I wasn't happy with. Too conservative. Far to much passive activity. Like sex, if your investments are all passive, you're just asking to get fucked. Now that's ok for ssome people, but these four were young and high earners. They didn't need the riskless approach. And that posture jumped off the page at at you. My second compliment of the day.
“Mac, is this the new format for all portfolios? It's great. Makes everything so clear.”
“I was trying it out, You really like it? Wait! Get away from me!” He recoiled as I tried to kiss the top ofd his head again.
“Ingrate,” I chuckled. “Yes, I like it. Do them all this way.”
“I'll need George's permission.”
I rose from my desk and headed for George's office. Getting that permission would be a snap. After all I'm the analyst, all George needs is a couple of action lines. “George, have you … Oh, for FUCK'S SAKE! Can we have a little PROFESSIONALISM around here!!!”
Hollis sat up and laughed as George quickly tried to hide his obviously wet cock. I ignored his muffled scream and even felt a little sympathy as the zipper cut into tender flesh.
“This is Mac's new statement format. I'm telling him to use it for all the accounts. Take a look.” I laid a sample in front of him. “Don't get any cum stains on it; I want it back.” I left before George got out his first word.
As I worked on the accounts trying to extract enough liquidity to permit some new venture investment, I listened to the good-byes as one after another the trolls left work. My watch said four-fifteen. I swear, the market closes and they all scatter. Well, ok. It was Friday. Perhaps their boring little lives would see a little action tonight. Out the window, I watched Tommy Lynn and Buddy drive somewhere dressed for the God damned opera of something. Shit. I put my stuff away and decided a drink and a sun bath would kill some time before my dinner date. It was December, but the sun was bright; and the drink plus the glass enclosure of the pool deck would make mid-sixties feel like mid-seventies. I contemplated vodka and tonic and then decided to ditch the tonic. Vodka on the rocks. A lot of vodka; a few rocks; and a spray of some kind of fruity citrus extract. Perfect. I thought about nude, but nobody was here to impress, so I put on some fairly conservative shorts and headed for the deck. Ah … the burn of the vodka, the weak warmth of the sun almost massaging my back, and the soft comfort of the chaise.
“Hey, hot stuff!” shattered my sweet reverie.
“You again,” I said without moving a muscle. “I thought everyone was gone.”
“You lose. Actually, you win. Want a massage?” Hollis offered; the offer sounded genuine. I turned and glanced over at him. He slipped off his briefs and added them to a pile of his clothes beside the chaise he was sitting on, and then began spreading some coconut-scented oil on his arms. He absolutely does not deserve the nice body he has.
“No thanks.” I took a sip of my drink and thought how much more pleasant the burning vodka was than hot Hollis's offer.
“Bullshit, I'm good at this, You'll love it.” He hopped onto me, straddling my hips and began rubbing my upper back with his greasy hands. I was annoyed and muttered a fuck you but I let him proceed. He was right; it smelled good and felt even better. “See, told you ...” I relaxed and let him go. He was using just the right pressure, just the right pace. I sipped my drink again and sighed as I lay my head flat on the cushion. “Yeah, you like this ...” he said with total confidence. With both his hands on my shoulders it had to be his cock slipping into my crack.
“Do you have an erection?” I tried to turn around to look.
“Naturally,” he answered. I rose up more looked. He sat up straight and I saw his cock curving upward, pulsing with his heartbeat. “You like?” he asked. “I bet I could make you cum no hands, just fuckin'.”
“Get off me,” I demanded. He didn't.
“Ok, just a massage,” he said and went back to rubbing my back energetically. It felt good. I relaxed again. He used a lot of oil. I was torn between the sensual pleasure of the massage and the annoying indignity of being treated like a Slip 'n Slide. I was about to complain until I realized that the strange noise was coming from me every time his cock bumped my asshole.
“Yeah, you like this,” Hollis said in a tone that meant he liked it too. His next thrust included some penetration.
I groaned massively. He had me. No question. I never wanted a dick so much in my life. When he finally began his entry I welcomed it, raising my body to make it easier. I barely recognized the sounds I was making. At the same time it bothered me that I wanted Hollis so badly; but it wasn't Hollis. I didn't care if it was Hollis; it could have been the man in the moon if he had a thick dick.
“Fuck me!” I knew I would regret that. He would never let me forget. “Fuck me,” I repeated desperate for dick.
Despite my begging, he kept up a steady, relentless motion. Not real hard. Not real deep. Just motion. Pressing this way. That. I heard him laugh when I started to cum. And then he suddenly pulled out.
“NO!” I felt drained and hurt. I wimpered when he put his dick back in me. I hear his soft chuckle and no longer cared what he thought or what came next. I couldn't take the emptiness of his withdrawal. He resumed a slow fucking motion, more just pressure than actual movement. And then withdrew again. He got up without a word and gathered his clothes. I could see his dick was still hard; I couldn't tell if he had got off or not.
“Richard,: he said matter-of-factly, “You might want to include some squats in your work out routine; build up your ass; give your partner a more comfortable ride, you know?” He turned and walked to the pool house.
I lay on the chaise exhausted, limp, and depleted. And something to do my dick hurt. Actual pain. Not terrible pain, it was the kind that sapped all pleasure from my orgasm and quickly turned it into a demeaning compulsion. I continued lying feeling the warmth of sex turn into the chill of sweat in the dying sunlight. I don't know how long I lay there. Probably not as long as it seemed.
“Richard, I didn't know anybody was still here.” I looked up and saw Tommy Lynn looking down at me. He sat where Hollis had started out. “What kind of ordeal have you been through?” He sounded concerned.
“I was inappropriately touched.”
“Inapp … who?”
At that moment Hollis came out of the pool house, combed and dressed, looking like a sixteen year old satyr. “Hey, Mr. Lynn! Anything you need before I leave?”
Tommy Lynn gave Hollis a cordial but dismissive wave and muttered, “I could use about five pounds of youth, administered intravenously, please.” After a pause, “He fucked you?”
“Yes, and he was good at it. I especially resent the 'good at it' part.”
“I just realized he's the first intern in … how many years? … that I haven't had sex with.” Tommy Lynn sounded wistful.
“He ready and willing, God is he willing. if you're interested.”
“He and George seem to have hit it off. And, to be honest, my fires are burning a little low, these days.”
“Viagra.”
“I wish it were that easy. Richard, you're cold. Go get dressed.”
I took Tommy Lynn's advice and felt renewed as the heat of the shower washed off a mix of oil, semen, and shame. How unwilling does a person have to be for sex to become rape? I didn't feel like I'd been raped, but technically I guess that's what it had been. I sure as hell didn't want Hollis fuckin' me, but it didn't turn out to be that bad. He made me come, for God's sake. But still … So why didn't I put up a fight. I could have. I could have stopped it. Would fighting him off have been more shameful than letting him fuck me? It would have been messy, especially after he got his dick in me. The little prick. I guess what really bothered me was knowing he felt like he could get away with it. Which he did. And I don't feel like killing him or anything. I'm mostly annoyed and embarrassed that he got away with it. I didn't mind Tommy Lynn knowing about it, but I sure as hell didn't want somebody like Euie knowing. Not that he'd say anything, but he'd know. Just like he knows I want to fuck him. He knows and he knows I know. It's God damn embarrassing. I turned the water off and got dressed with half of me still wet.
Tommy Lynn was gone, and so was Hollis. Just my car was parked in the drive. I proceeded slowly down the long drive past the big house trying to be quiet. I was supposed to see Will, but I didn't feel like facing him at the moment. I could still feel Hollis's dick in my ass.
That little son of a bitch. Maybe I would like to kill him. How could he just waltz up and grease up and …
“WAIT! Richard, wait!” Shit. It was Will. HE trotted up to my car breathing heavily from his chase and just about stuck his whole head in my window. “Aren't you stopping? I thought we were going to run?”
I could smell alcohol. “You've been drinking!”
He just grinned and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah … So ...” His look was challenging. “You gonna ABUSE me for hoisting a few?” He ran around to the passenger door and got in. “Park it in the barn. I left the doors open.” He pointed to the empty stalls in the barn. He was wearing cut offs. He has nice legs. Hot looking, firm, well muscled. Parked the car. “Come on. Get changed. You can't run in those clothes. Why are you wet?” His hand was on my arm.
“I just took a shower. I don't feel like a run.” He looked disappointed but hopeful.
“I'm kinda horny right now.” He was unbuttoning my shirt and we were still in the car.
“I'm not,” I told him, brushing his hand away. At that, he looked majorly disappointed. And cute. And hot. Somehow my hand ended up on his leg, feeling warmth and the curly hairs. I sniffed the air. He wasn't drunk, but he reeked of something.
“Marlee's gin and tonic,” he explained.
“You call your mother Marlee?”
“Sometimes. When she's been abusing me.” He smiled again. “Not the way you do, of course. She has been revising my life plan more to her liking. A lot of detail.” He was unbuttoning my shirt again. “Three g-and-t's worth of detail. Do these seats recline?”
“Not very far,” I told him.
They reclined far enough for him to fuck me. It was over pretty quickly and I said so. “That was fast.”
“I told you I was horny.” He gave me one of his winning smiles. He must have been an irresistible kid. No wonder his mother spoiled him.
Fucked twice in a couple of hours. This time was much better. I sighed.
“You didn't get off. You want me to blow you?”
He didn't like giving blow jobs, so it was pretty nice of him to offer. He didn't like kissing either, but he didn't mind when I gave him a little one. On the cheek.
“You want to stay for dinner?” He sounded hopeful again.
“What if we go out?”
“Not if I have to dress up.
“The Ashby Inn is under new management. I met one of the owners and he'd be into it if you showed up nude.”
In fact Will wore a blazer, making me look like the hick. He charmed the receptionist who somehow figure out that he was one of “those Perrys” and fawned over him all night. She offered a welcoming glass of champagne and praised his choice of a local wine. She might as well have offered herself as dessert.
“They have local wine?” My ignorance was showing. I glanced nervously over at him. We were seated on adjacent sides of the table, against the wall, not opposite each other.
“Every state in the union makes some kind of wine,” Will answered. “Our local stuff is getting better every year,” he said making the girl smile. When she left he sipped the wine and looked hard at me. “If I talk about your dick, will it get hard?”
“Wh … What do you mean?” I swear I felt myself blushing.
“It's bigger than mine,” he continued. “Maybe not as thick, but that's ok. And it has a slight bend to the left.”
“To the right,” I corrected.
“From your point of view,” he chuckled. “When I'm holding it … and it's a handful … it's to the left.” He paused. “Is it hard now?”
I couldn't help but imagine his hand on me. I looked around the narrow room, making sure no one was watching. “A little,” I admitted, feeling that prickly sensation when arousal begins. Then I gasped when he groped me.
“Just checking,” he said. “If I can keep you hard all through dinner, I figure I can go for seconds when we get back to the barn.”
He not only kept me hard through the seared scallop appetizer, he kept me hard through the skirt steak and the following bitter green salad. I drank too much. Will had two glasses of wine, I had the rest of the bottle. “I want to fuck you,” he whispered as we walked to my car. There was no question who would drive.
“You know, Richard, you ought to get a better car. Looking successful would be good for business. That or a really eccentric truck. I saw an old Studebaker painted moss green, shiny as new. You should get it. This Toyota isn't the image you want.”
A little lecture on appearances wasn't what I was looking for. The remains of my little bit of a hardon went away and didn't return even when we got into bed. It's kind of annoying being poked with a dick when you're not interested and Will was snuggled up against my back. I could feel his dick poking here and there. I was pissed about the Toyota remark. I was further pissed when he reached over to his table and got the lube. Pissed, yes; but I didn't say anything. With his dick all slicked up, his aim improved. He was knocking at my back door and pretty close to getting in.
Fuck it. Or maybe fuck me, was the better thought. Ok, asshole, if it's gonna happen, it's gonna happen my way. “Asshole” was a personal reference, not a new name for Will. In the distance I could hear a siren, but it stopped.
“Go slow. Angle it up a little more. Slow, I said. Don't stop, for God's sake.” In my head I could see how Hollis did it; I wanted it like that. “Longer strokes … keep moving … yeah … that's right ...” And it was right. Things were heating up, starting to feel really good. And then wham … Will came and wilted. Not his dick, that was still hard; his body wilted against me. “KEEP GOING, God damn it! I'M NOT DONE YET.” The room filled with strobing red light from the window.
He did keep going. He did exactly what I demanded and slightly before I wanted to, when he squeezed my balls, I came. Sperm flew. I got him in the face and the hair. He had an earnest look that changed to surprise when my cum hit him. At last I relaxed and he collapsed on top of me. “Ok? Was I ok?” he asked.
“Yeah, you were. What's all that red light? I'm not that drunk.” By then I wasn't drunk at all.
“Want me to look?” Will asked, sounding timid. He got out of bed and looked out the window. His body glowed in an outline of red that pulsed in intensity. “It's coming from Tommy Lynn's.”
“I tell you, Buddy, there's something weird going on with Richard. This morning he literally floated into the office. I swear his feet weren't touching the ground. It's like he was an alien drone of something. 'Good morning my little chickadees,' he said to Euie and me and kissed me on the top of my head and said to Euie, 'You're the most handsome man I've seen today.” Now it was only nine in the morning, but still ...”
“Euie IS a handsome man, Mac.”
“Yes, he is; but Richard never said so before. It's not the kind of thing Richard would say, not even to Nathan Stephenson.”
“Who is Nathan Stephenson?”
“Buddy ...” I knew I sounded whiny, but come on! “Nathan Stephenson is like the best looking young actor since … forever.”
“Is he black?”
“Yes. Half, maybe. He's got the prettiest amber colored eyes ...”
“I thought you were over that fixation.”
“We're talking about Richard, here. Not me.”
Enough of eavesdropping on bullshit; I entered the room. “Talking about me, are you?”
“Andrew ...” Mac sputtered.
“I can't even give people a cherry good morning without the presumption of motive,” I said to Buddy.
“Maybe if you did it more often, you wouldn't get that reaction,” Buddy answered with a smile. God damn, he gets sexier looking every day; if only it weren't for that TINY dick of his.
“Anyway, it's Friday and there are many reasons to be feeling good. Like I have a date tonight. A real date. Sort of. At least I've been invited to dinner for two.” It's true, I don't get that many invitations. I don't know why, really; I'm a good conversationalist, I have decent table manners, and I have a HUGE dick.
“Congratulations, professor.”
“Professor? What's that mean?” Did they know about Professor Inglis and the Heritage Society? Ok, there is no Heritage Society, but there is that chain of Inglis proteges of which the latest example was fucking George Brightwater, that little prick. Hollis, I mean, not George. Hollis may be the last of the Heritage Society. He's fucked it up. Oh well, it was nice while it lasted and I have nothing more to gain, except sampling the goods now and then.
I settled down to work. There were four individual portfolios that I wasn't happy with. Too conservative. Far to much passive activity. Like sex, if your investments are all passive, you're just asking to get fucked. Now that's ok for ssome people, but these four were young and high earners. They didn't need the riskless approach. And that posture jumped off the page at at you. My second compliment of the day.
“Mac, is this the new format for all portfolios? It's great. Makes everything so clear.”
“I was trying it out, You really like it? Wait! Get away from me!” He recoiled as I tried to kiss the top ofd his head again.
“Ingrate,” I chuckled. “Yes, I like it. Do them all this way.”
“I'll need George's permission.”
I rose from my desk and headed for George's office. Getting that permission would be a snap. After all I'm the analyst, all George needs is a couple of action lines. “George, have you … Oh, for FUCK'S SAKE! Can we have a little PROFESSIONALISM around here!!!”
Hollis sat up and laughed as George quickly tried to hide his obviously wet cock. I ignored his muffled scream and even felt a little sympathy as the zipper cut into tender flesh.
“This is Mac's new statement format. I'm telling him to use it for all the accounts. Take a look.” I laid a sample in front of him. “Don't get any cum stains on it; I want it back.” I left before George got out his first word.
As I worked on the accounts trying to extract enough liquidity to permit some new venture investment, I listened to the good-byes as one after another the trolls left work. My watch said four-fifteen. I swear, the market closes and they all scatter. Well, ok. It was Friday. Perhaps their boring little lives would see a little action tonight. Out the window, I watched Tommy Lynn and Buddy drive somewhere dressed for the God damned opera of something. Shit. I put my stuff away and decided a drink and a sun bath would kill some time before my dinner date. It was December, but the sun was bright; and the drink plus the glass enclosure of the pool deck would make mid-sixties feel like mid-seventies. I contemplated vodka and tonic and then decided to ditch the tonic. Vodka on the rocks. A lot of vodka; a few rocks; and a spray of some kind of fruity citrus extract. Perfect. I thought about nude, but nobody was here to impress, so I put on some fairly conservative shorts and headed for the deck. Ah … the burn of the vodka, the weak warmth of the sun almost massaging my back, and the soft comfort of the chaise.
“Hey, hot stuff!” shattered my sweet reverie.
“You again,” I said without moving a muscle. “I thought everyone was gone.”
“You lose. Actually, you win. Want a massage?” Hollis offered; the offer sounded genuine. I turned and glanced over at him. He slipped off his briefs and added them to a pile of his clothes beside the chaise he was sitting on, and then began spreading some coconut-scented oil on his arms. He absolutely does not deserve the nice body he has.
“No thanks.” I took a sip of my drink and thought how much more pleasant the burning vodka was than hot Hollis's offer.
“Bullshit, I'm good at this, You'll love it.” He hopped onto me, straddling my hips and began rubbing my upper back with his greasy hands. I was annoyed and muttered a fuck you but I let him proceed. He was right; it smelled good and felt even better. “See, told you ...” I relaxed and let him go. He was using just the right pressure, just the right pace. I sipped my drink again and sighed as I lay my head flat on the cushion. “Yeah, you like this ...” he said with total confidence. With both his hands on my shoulders it had to be his cock slipping into my crack.
“Do you have an erection?” I tried to turn around to look.
“Naturally,” he answered. I rose up more looked. He sat up straight and I saw his cock curving upward, pulsing with his heartbeat. “You like?” he asked. “I bet I could make you cum no hands, just fuckin'.”
“Get off me,” I demanded. He didn't.
“Ok, just a massage,” he said and went back to rubbing my back energetically. It felt good. I relaxed again. He used a lot of oil. I was torn between the sensual pleasure of the massage and the annoying indignity of being treated like a Slip 'n Slide. I was about to complain until I realized that the strange noise was coming from me every time his cock bumped my asshole.
“Yeah, you like this,” Hollis said in a tone that meant he liked it too. His next thrust included some penetration.
I groaned massively. He had me. No question. I never wanted a dick so much in my life. When he finally began his entry I welcomed it, raising my body to make it easier. I barely recognized the sounds I was making. At the same time it bothered me that I wanted Hollis so badly; but it wasn't Hollis. I didn't care if it was Hollis; it could have been the man in the moon if he had a thick dick.
“Fuck me!” I knew I would regret that. He would never let me forget. “Fuck me,” I repeated desperate for dick.
Despite my begging, he kept up a steady, relentless motion. Not real hard. Not real deep. Just motion. Pressing this way. That. I heard him laugh when I started to cum. And then he suddenly pulled out.
“NO!” I felt drained and hurt. I wimpered when he put his dick back in me. I hear his soft chuckle and no longer cared what he thought or what came next. I couldn't take the emptiness of his withdrawal. He resumed a slow fucking motion, more just pressure than actual movement. And then withdrew again. He got up without a word and gathered his clothes. I could see his dick was still hard; I couldn't tell if he had got off or not.
“Richard,: he said matter-of-factly, “You might want to include some squats in your work out routine; build up your ass; give your partner a more comfortable ride, you know?” He turned and walked to the pool house.
I lay on the chaise exhausted, limp, and depleted. And something to do my dick hurt. Actual pain. Not terrible pain, it was the kind that sapped all pleasure from my orgasm and quickly turned it into a demeaning compulsion. I continued lying feeling the warmth of sex turn into the chill of sweat in the dying sunlight. I don't know how long I lay there. Probably not as long as it seemed.
“Richard, I didn't know anybody was still here.” I looked up and saw Tommy Lynn looking down at me. He sat where Hollis had started out. “What kind of ordeal have you been through?” He sounded concerned.
“I was inappropriately touched.”
“Inapp … who?”
At that moment Hollis came out of the pool house, combed and dressed, looking like a sixteen year old satyr. “Hey, Mr. Lynn! Anything you need before I leave?”
Tommy Lynn gave Hollis a cordial but dismissive wave and muttered, “I could use about five pounds of youth, administered intravenously, please.” After a pause, “He fucked you?”
“Yes, and he was good at it. I especially resent the 'good at it' part.”
“I just realized he's the first intern in … how many years? … that I haven't had sex with.” Tommy Lynn sounded wistful.
“He ready and willing, God is he willing. if you're interested.”
“He and George seem to have hit it off. And, to be honest, my fires are burning a little low, these days.”
“Viagra.”
“I wish it were that easy. Richard, you're cold. Go get dressed.”
I took Tommy Lynn's advice and felt renewed as the heat of the shower washed off a mix of oil, semen, and shame. How unwilling does a person have to be for sex to become rape? I didn't feel like I'd been raped, but technically I guess that's what it had been. I sure as hell didn't want Hollis fuckin' me, but it didn't turn out to be that bad. He made me come, for God's sake. But still … So why didn't I put up a fight. I could have. I could have stopped it. Would fighting him off have been more shameful than letting him fuck me? It would have been messy, especially after he got his dick in me. The little prick. I guess what really bothered me was knowing he felt like he could get away with it. Which he did. And I don't feel like killing him or anything. I'm mostly annoyed and embarrassed that he got away with it. I didn't mind Tommy Lynn knowing about it, but I sure as hell didn't want somebody like Euie knowing. Not that he'd say anything, but he'd know. Just like he knows I want to fuck him. He knows and he knows I know. It's God damn embarrassing. I turned the water off and got dressed with half of me still wet.
Tommy Lynn was gone, and so was Hollis. Just my car was parked in the drive. I proceeded slowly down the long drive past the big house trying to be quiet. I was supposed to see Will, but I didn't feel like facing him at the moment. I could still feel Hollis's dick in my ass.
That little son of a bitch. Maybe I would like to kill him. How could he just waltz up and grease up and …
“WAIT! Richard, wait!” Shit. It was Will. HE trotted up to my car breathing heavily from his chase and just about stuck his whole head in my window. “Aren't you stopping? I thought we were going to run?”
I could smell alcohol. “You've been drinking!”
He just grinned and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah … So ...” His look was challenging. “You gonna ABUSE me for hoisting a few?” He ran around to the passenger door and got in. “Park it in the barn. I left the doors open.” He pointed to the empty stalls in the barn. He was wearing cut offs. He has nice legs. Hot looking, firm, well muscled. Parked the car. “Come on. Get changed. You can't run in those clothes. Why are you wet?” His hand was on my arm.
“I just took a shower. I don't feel like a run.” He looked disappointed but hopeful.
“I'm kinda horny right now.” He was unbuttoning my shirt and we were still in the car.
“I'm not,” I told him, brushing his hand away. At that, he looked majorly disappointed. And cute. And hot. Somehow my hand ended up on his leg, feeling warmth and the curly hairs. I sniffed the air. He wasn't drunk, but he reeked of something.
“Marlee's gin and tonic,” he explained.
“You call your mother Marlee?”
“Sometimes. When she's been abusing me.” He smiled again. “Not the way you do, of course. She has been revising my life plan more to her liking. A lot of detail.” He was unbuttoning my shirt again. “Three g-and-t's worth of detail. Do these seats recline?”
“Not very far,” I told him.
They reclined far enough for him to fuck me. It was over pretty quickly and I said so. “That was fast.”
“I told you I was horny.” He gave me one of his winning smiles. He must have been an irresistible kid. No wonder his mother spoiled him.
Fucked twice in a couple of hours. This time was much better. I sighed.
“You didn't get off. You want me to blow you?”
He didn't like giving blow jobs, so it was pretty nice of him to offer. He didn't like kissing either, but he didn't mind when I gave him a little one. On the cheek.
“You want to stay for dinner?” He sounded hopeful again.
“What if we go out?”
“Not if I have to dress up.
“The Ashby Inn is under new management. I met one of the owners and he'd be into it if you showed up nude.”
In fact Will wore a blazer, making me look like the hick. He charmed the receptionist who somehow figure out that he was one of “those Perrys” and fawned over him all night. She offered a welcoming glass of champagne and praised his choice of a local wine. She might as well have offered herself as dessert.
“They have local wine?” My ignorance was showing. I glanced nervously over at him. We were seated on adjacent sides of the table, against the wall, not opposite each other.
“Every state in the union makes some kind of wine,” Will answered. “Our local stuff is getting better every year,” he said making the girl smile. When she left he sipped the wine and looked hard at me. “If I talk about your dick, will it get hard?”
“Wh … What do you mean?” I swear I felt myself blushing.
“It's bigger than mine,” he continued. “Maybe not as thick, but that's ok. And it has a slight bend to the left.”
“To the right,” I corrected.
“From your point of view,” he chuckled. “When I'm holding it … and it's a handful … it's to the left.” He paused. “Is it hard now?”
I couldn't help but imagine his hand on me. I looked around the narrow room, making sure no one was watching. “A little,” I admitted, feeling that prickly sensation when arousal begins. Then I gasped when he groped me.
“Just checking,” he said. “If I can keep you hard all through dinner, I figure I can go for seconds when we get back to the barn.”
He not only kept me hard through the seared scallop appetizer, he kept me hard through the skirt steak and the following bitter green salad. I drank too much. Will had two glasses of wine, I had the rest of the bottle. “I want to fuck you,” he whispered as we walked to my car. There was no question who would drive.
“You know, Richard, you ought to get a better car. Looking successful would be good for business. That or a really eccentric truck. I saw an old Studebaker painted moss green, shiny as new. You should get it. This Toyota isn't the image you want.”
A little lecture on appearances wasn't what I was looking for. The remains of my little bit of a hardon went away and didn't return even when we got into bed. It's kind of annoying being poked with a dick when you're not interested and Will was snuggled up against my back. I could feel his dick poking here and there. I was pissed about the Toyota remark. I was further pissed when he reached over to his table and got the lube. Pissed, yes; but I didn't say anything. With his dick all slicked up, his aim improved. He was knocking at my back door and pretty close to getting in.
Fuck it. Or maybe fuck me, was the better thought. Ok, asshole, if it's gonna happen, it's gonna happen my way. “Asshole” was a personal reference, not a new name for Will. In the distance I could hear a siren, but it stopped.
“Go slow. Angle it up a little more. Slow, I said. Don't stop, for God's sake.” In my head I could see how Hollis did it; I wanted it like that. “Longer strokes … keep moving … yeah … that's right ...” And it was right. Things were heating up, starting to feel really good. And then wham … Will came and wilted. Not his dick, that was still hard; his body wilted against me. “KEEP GOING, God damn it! I'M NOT DONE YET.” The room filled with strobing red light from the window.
He did keep going. He did exactly what I demanded and slightly before I wanted to, when he squeezed my balls, I came. Sperm flew. I got him in the face and the hair. He had an earnest look that changed to surprise when my cum hit him. At last I relaxed and he collapsed on top of me. “Ok? Was I ok?” he asked.
“Yeah, you were. What's all that red light? I'm not that drunk.” By then I wasn't drunk at all.
“Want me to look?” Will asked, sounding timid. He got out of bed and looked out the window. His body glowed in an outline of red that pulsed in intensity. “It's coming from Tommy Lynn's.”
How did I miss the July post?! Holidays and family outings.
It's so good to be back with the guys and exploring the extended saga of sensual sex!
Now to read the current installment - you've been missed, Rory.
It's so good to be back with the guys and exploring the extended saga of sensual sex!
Now to read the current installment - you've been missed, Rory.
Hot damn he got laid - three times in one night. And giving directions to make it better for himself, too!
I hope Tommy Lynn is OK - your foreshadowing has me thinking otherwise, though.
I hope Tommy Lynn is OK - your foreshadowing has me thinking otherwise, though.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Thanks. The story has been playing in my head, but getting it written has been a challenge, along with a hundred other things.
I can related - been a hectic busy at work Summer and Fall.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Thirty-Four - Tommy Lynn
“Family, co-workers, former co-workers, and other interested parties, good day to you all. Being of sound mind but rapidly disintegrating body, I make this video as my last will and testament. It will only be shown once and it won't take long. So sit back, sip your drinks slowly, and pay attention. Or not, as you see fit. The important features will also be available in a printed version, which my lawyer says is necessary in Virginia.
“What a time we've had, huh? I'm aiming this remark at my older friends. For my younger friends time means nothing yet; but, trust me, it will. Remember in the sixties when sex was frightening and illegal? Not much better in the seventies for us in the South. Lately, however, times are changing. I'm married to a man, for example. His name is Buddy, he's the good-looking one with black hair. Introduce yourselves; he'd love to meet you all.
“Buddy refused to accept much of an inheritance; he said I'd given him enough already. So there's another reason to like him. That leaves all the more for the rest of you.
“Some people, on flimsy evidence, have called me a good old boy, a nice guy, a trustworthy businessman. Well, I'm about to prove you wrong.
“Shall we get this on the table? I've had sex with almost all of you. As your mentor or as your employer, I was coercive according to current mores; I used a position of power to force myself on you, isn't that what they say? Wrong. This same lawyer who insisted on the written will, he says I acted shrewdly. Remember the conversations we had? About me not forcing you to do anything? About me not holding a no against you? About your employment not being conditioned on anything other that scholastic qualifications? And the exit interviews in which you agreed that the sex had been consensual, freely given, and not exchanged for the expectation or fact of any promise or reward? Well, I recorded those conversations. The earliest ones are oral only; the later ones are video. I watched them recently and I must say I have great taste in men. Y'all are a nice lookin' bunch. There were noticeable trends. My blonds-only phase. That string of redheads. Tall ones, short ones, athletic, aesthetic, super-straight, flaming queens. In every case, there was something about you that appealed to me. Something special. And you can't sue me in case you're suddenly struck with remorse. You were all of age; and you all did it willingly.
“And here's the pay off. Y'all got fucked in a good cause. I'm leaving you fifty thousand dollars apiece. Ok? Fair compensation? Oh, but what about the ones who said no? Well, there weren't many; but they get ten thousand just for the embarrassment. I considered giving them more, but the lawyer says ten thou is plenty. So bitch at him, not me, or my memory.
“Shall we pause the video here? Let most of you leave? Because that's all your getting. Thanks for the good times and, if you're nice to Buddy, he said he would hold annual reunions, in case any of you want to hook up in memory of me. Ok?”
Tommy Lynn paused with a small smile crossing his face.
“Ok, let's resume with the disposition of the company. There will be income participation and voting particip …”
A badly aging man with a little pot belly and jowls rose. Once, some years ago he had probably been seriously hot. Now he was seriously not.
“All right, big deal, so I took it up the ass a few times. Where's my check?” he asked looking around the room.
“Son of a southern bitch, Farley. You swore to me he never touched you. Are you lyin' to the lawyer or were you lyin' to me?”
“A couple times, for fuck sake, Rawlie. Everybody's done it a couple of times!”
Another very slim, aging former beauty gathered his coat around his shoulders and rose a little unsteadily. “Not me. No, nay, never has any man's penis ...”
Huge guffaws erupted. “Except on weekends in years that end with a number. Any number. Any weekend.” More laughter. “And the weekends all start on Thursday and end on Tuesday. I know that part is true, 'cause he always went for his shots on Wednesdays. Dintcha, Louise?” Louise snorted and drained his champagne flute before heading to the bar for more.
Rawlie was now nose to nose with Farley on the side of the room. “You swore to me, Farley. You swore you were a virgin.”
“Dude, it was years ago! And technically, I was a virgin. Before I came to work here. That was what counted.”
“I let you ...”
“Yeah, you did. No hesitation, neither. Big deal! Why are you bringin' up this old shit?”
“Because you don't deserve fifty thousand dollars when you lied.”
“It's about the money? Really?”
There were other discussions, some light-hearted, some not, all on the subject of Tommy Lynn's conquests.
The video wrapped up. “So my friends, and a few foes, I guess, that's how it ends for me. On the whole, it was worth it at least from my point of view. Anybody who is unhappy, see my lawyer. I don't give a damn any more.”
“Family, co-workers, former co-workers, and other interested parties, good day to you all. Being of sound mind but rapidly disintegrating body, I make this video as my last will and testament. It will only be shown once and it won't take long. So sit back, sip your drinks slowly, and pay attention. Or not, as you see fit. The important features will also be available in a printed version, which my lawyer says is necessary in Virginia.
“What a time we've had, huh? I'm aiming this remark at my older friends. For my younger friends time means nothing yet; but, trust me, it will. Remember in the sixties when sex was frightening and illegal? Not much better in the seventies for us in the South. Lately, however, times are changing. I'm married to a man, for example. His name is Buddy, he's the good-looking one with black hair. Introduce yourselves; he'd love to meet you all.
“Buddy refused to accept much of an inheritance; he said I'd given him enough already. So there's another reason to like him. That leaves all the more for the rest of you.
“Some people, on flimsy evidence, have called me a good old boy, a nice guy, a trustworthy businessman. Well, I'm about to prove you wrong.
“Shall we get this on the table? I've had sex with almost all of you. As your mentor or as your employer, I was coercive according to current mores; I used a position of power to force myself on you, isn't that what they say? Wrong. This same lawyer who insisted on the written will, he says I acted shrewdly. Remember the conversations we had? About me not forcing you to do anything? About me not holding a no against you? About your employment not being conditioned on anything other that scholastic qualifications? And the exit interviews in which you agreed that the sex had been consensual, freely given, and not exchanged for the expectation or fact of any promise or reward? Well, I recorded those conversations. The earliest ones are oral only; the later ones are video. I watched them recently and I must say I have great taste in men. Y'all are a nice lookin' bunch. There were noticeable trends. My blonds-only phase. That string of redheads. Tall ones, short ones, athletic, aesthetic, super-straight, flaming queens. In every case, there was something about you that appealed to me. Something special. And you can't sue me in case you're suddenly struck with remorse. You were all of age; and you all did it willingly.
“And here's the pay off. Y'all got fucked in a good cause. I'm leaving you fifty thousand dollars apiece. Ok? Fair compensation? Oh, but what about the ones who said no? Well, there weren't many; but they get ten thousand just for the embarrassment. I considered giving them more, but the lawyer says ten thou is plenty. So bitch at him, not me, or my memory.
“Shall we pause the video here? Let most of you leave? Because that's all your getting. Thanks for the good times and, if you're nice to Buddy, he said he would hold annual reunions, in case any of you want to hook up in memory of me. Ok?”
Tommy Lynn paused with a small smile crossing his face.
“Ok, let's resume with the disposition of the company. There will be income participation and voting particip …”
A badly aging man with a little pot belly and jowls rose. Once, some years ago he had probably been seriously hot. Now he was seriously not.
“All right, big deal, so I took it up the ass a few times. Where's my check?” he asked looking around the room.
“Son of a southern bitch, Farley. You swore to me he never touched you. Are you lyin' to the lawyer or were you lyin' to me?”
“A couple times, for fuck sake, Rawlie. Everybody's done it a couple of times!”
Another very slim, aging former beauty gathered his coat around his shoulders and rose a little unsteadily. “Not me. No, nay, never has any man's penis ...”
Huge guffaws erupted. “Except on weekends in years that end with a number. Any number. Any weekend.” More laughter. “And the weekends all start on Thursday and end on Tuesday. I know that part is true, 'cause he always went for his shots on Wednesdays. Dintcha, Louise?” Louise snorted and drained his champagne flute before heading to the bar for more.
Rawlie was now nose to nose with Farley on the side of the room. “You swore to me, Farley. You swore you were a virgin.”
“Dude, it was years ago! And technically, I was a virgin. Before I came to work here. That was what counted.”
“I let you ...”
“Yeah, you did. No hesitation, neither. Big deal! Why are you bringin' up this old shit?”
“Because you don't deserve fifty thousand dollars when you lied.”
“It's about the money? Really?”
There were other discussions, some light-hearted, some not, all on the subject of Tommy Lynn's conquests.
The video wrapped up. “So my friends, and a few foes, I guess, that's how it ends for me. On the whole, it was worth it at least from my point of view. Anybody who is unhappy, see my lawyer. I don't give a damn any more.”
R.I.P Tommy Lynn
Why do I feel like this is the end of this story?
Or, is there going to be a helluva wake/orgie in Panavision and Technicolor?!
Why do I feel like this is the end of this story?
Or, is there going to be a helluva wake/orgie in Panavision and Technicolor?!
EasyRory
JUB Addict
I spoke to the author and he said this chapter, while the shortest, is not the final.
Oh, good.
- - - Updated - - -
p.s. I hope you and yours had a good Thanksgiving.
- - - Updated - - -
p.s. I hope you and yours had a good Thanksgiving.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Thirty-Five - Richard
“ 'So, ideally, you want to find companies that can increase sales at no marginal cost.' See, I was trying to explain to Will the aggregator theory of stock value.”
“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Brandon laughed.
“Neither did Will. He was standing next to me and concentrating on rubbing his cock against my arm. I tried another approach, but he just said, 'You like it when I fuck you.' It wasn't a question, it was a statement.”
Brandon's mouth fell open. “I swear, dude, I will never understand the way you gay guys talk,”
“That's the thing, Brandon. I don't think Will is actually gay, not the way you think of gay.”
“Dude ...”
“It would be ok if you called me Richard. We've known each other since before Tommy Lynn died.”
“Richard.”
I smiled at him, “Thank you.” Damn he was good-looking in that basic blue-collar way. No wonder Buddy was … doing whatever Buddy was doing to him.
“But you two were practically living together! How can he NOT be gay?”
“I admit right after Tommy Lynn died I did see a lot of him. But I never actually moved in clothes and all.”
“And you had sex,” Brandon said, as if that proves anything.
“We did. For a while, every day, almost until summer. Sometimes more,” I giggled at the memory. “But then it tapered off quite a bit. Especially after he got married. And after the first kid, who is named Tommy Lynn Richard I might add, it tapered off to almost nothing.”
“Almost. So he is gay!”
“He said he likes fucking me because I'm the most responsive sex partner he's ever had. Plus he does like me.”
“Um.” I laughed at Brandon's discomfort. Just say it, dude. He did. “What's he mean 'most responsive'?”
“I come when he fucks me, almost every time.” Brandon choked on his beer. I smiled again at him. I do like him; and he and Buddy together … the two of them? I swear, they are made for each other. “Well, don't you come when Buddy fucks you?” I was teasing; he choked some more.
“Richard, we … uh, we don't ...”
“Fuck?” I suggested.
“We don't do anything.”
“That must be frustrating. I've seen you hold his hand. I've seen you kiss him.”
Brandon blushed furiously. “Not often.”
“You live with him. You love him. You do, Brandon. You two light each other up when you're together. Don't deny it.”
“We're business partners. I do love him, kind of. But we don't have sex!”
“Why not?” I wasn't letting him off easily.
“Because ...” he leaned close and whispered, even though there was no one near us. “Because once when we tried, I threw up when ...”
“Say it!” I demanded.
“... when he put his dick in my mouth.”
“Didn't he shower after work?”
“Um, we did it at work … out in the field.”
“Cleanliness counts, Brandon,” was all the advice I had to offer. Euie interrupted us.
”Just the three of us?” Euie said as he sat down and signaled the waitress for another glass and another pitcher of beer. Before I could answer he gave us both a huge grin and said, “I think I'm in love with my butcher.”
“Your butcher? Really? You HAVE a butcher?”
“Now, Richard … He's not MY butcher specifically; he's everybody's butcher who shops at Enrico's in Georgetown.”
“Wow. I've heard they have great aged steaks,” Brandon commented.
“YOU know about Enrico's?” Brandon looked at me as if I was a troglodyte. “Money sure does change some people is all I have to say.”
“It's not a question of money … Enrico's buys some of our produce. You know, the things Buddy and I grow.”
“Awesome!” Euie said, charming Brandon. “That's awesome!” As if selling a few limp celery heads was a big accomplishment. “Is that your chard and parsley and uh … cilantro they sell? It's marked locally grown.”
I couldn't stand more discussion of vegetables, as if we're a bunch of lesbians. “Tell me more about the butcher.”
“Steve, right?” Brandon prompted. “He's the young one.”
“Busted,” Euie laughed. “Yeah, Steve.” He turned to me as if I needed a private explanation. “He's not really cute, not the way you think of cute. He's nice though and really a genius at … butchery? Is that the word? Butchering? Cutting meat. I get turned on by competence. You wouldn't believe how thin he can cut cheese.”
“Farting. I knew it. You're into farting.”
“They sell cheese at the meat counter, Richard,” Euie explained. Brandon was laughing uncontrollably as Euie's glass and a fresh pitcher arrived.
“Here y'all go,” Charleen said. “Haven't seen you in a while, Eustis.”
“Yes 'm, Miss Charleen, I've been real busy.”
Charleen sighed, her aging heart aflutter. “Euie, you are the cutest thing,” she added with a forgiving note.
“Euie, did you fuck her?” I whispered.
“Her daughter,” Euie whispered back loudly enough to be heard across the room.
“You're straight?” Brandon asked.
“No, he's not!” I interjected.
“But he just said ...” Brandon protested.
“I'm gender fluid,” Euie said. “I believe that's what it's called these days.”
“You're as gay as a Judy Garland festival, Euie. Don't give me any of that 'gender fluid' bullshit.”
“Just because you can't manage it, Richard, don't hamstring the rest of us.”
“Manage it! Manage it! I can ...”
“When? Name one time you did a girl.”
“Well, I could if I had to. Really! How does it always become about ME?”
“Because you attack others first,” Euie said dispassionately.
“Kind of ...” Brandon agreed, nodding genially.
“Honestly! I don't mean to. You just say such preposterous things. I have to respond.”
“No, you don't. You're supposed to tolerate eccentricities in friends … allow them a little room. The fact is I fucked Charlette. Why not accept it?”
“Charleen's daughter's name is Charlette? I think I knew a Charlette,” Brandon added.
“Well, there's something else we have in common,” Euie grinned. Brandon grinned back. Oh for God's sake!
I had to admit the idea of both of them fucking the same girl was kind of hot; the thought of it was giving me a semi. I have an uncanny ability to envision my friends having sex. I have no idea how accurate my vision is, but it's always arousing. Dirty movies in my head; cheap thrills. Jacking off. Yeah, well, back to the real world.
“Hey, y'all and Richard,” George Brightwater called out, joining the table. “We could almost have a board meeting if Buddy was here. Where is Buddy?” he asked Brandon.
“He's callin' on some kin of Tommy Lynn's.”
“Givin' 'em money?” George asked.
Brandon shrugged. “They're old. It's his money.”
“Old, yes. But every time I hear, there's more of them.”
It wasn't criticism, just a gratuitous judgment. So why isn't everybody pouncing on George. If I had said that, they'd be all over me.
“Fuck!” Hollis said, sitting down next to George. He had a scowl on his face.
“What's wrong?” I asked him.
“Nothing. It was an offer.”
Everybody laughed. Again, at my expense. I wondered if Hollis had told them about our little session. Of course, he had, the little shit. 'The time I raped Richard.' I could tell they all knew. We were waiting for Mac to arrive, but I was tired of being the butt of the jokes. I left. Went home. Masturbated. And felt disgusted.
“ 'So, ideally, you want to find companies that can increase sales at no marginal cost.' See, I was trying to explain to Will the aggregator theory of stock value.”
“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Brandon laughed.
“Neither did Will. He was standing next to me and concentrating on rubbing his cock against my arm. I tried another approach, but he just said, 'You like it when I fuck you.' It wasn't a question, it was a statement.”
Brandon's mouth fell open. “I swear, dude, I will never understand the way you gay guys talk,”
“That's the thing, Brandon. I don't think Will is actually gay, not the way you think of gay.”
“Dude ...”
“It would be ok if you called me Richard. We've known each other since before Tommy Lynn died.”
“Richard.”
I smiled at him, “Thank you.” Damn he was good-looking in that basic blue-collar way. No wonder Buddy was … doing whatever Buddy was doing to him.
“But you two were practically living together! How can he NOT be gay?”
“I admit right after Tommy Lynn died I did see a lot of him. But I never actually moved in clothes and all.”
“And you had sex,” Brandon said, as if that proves anything.
“We did. For a while, every day, almost until summer. Sometimes more,” I giggled at the memory. “But then it tapered off quite a bit. Especially after he got married. And after the first kid, who is named Tommy Lynn Richard I might add, it tapered off to almost nothing.”
“Almost. So he is gay!”
“He said he likes fucking me because I'm the most responsive sex partner he's ever had. Plus he does like me.”
“Um.” I laughed at Brandon's discomfort. Just say it, dude. He did. “What's he mean 'most responsive'?”
“I come when he fucks me, almost every time.” Brandon choked on his beer. I smiled again at him. I do like him; and he and Buddy together … the two of them? I swear, they are made for each other. “Well, don't you come when Buddy fucks you?” I was teasing; he choked some more.
“Richard, we … uh, we don't ...”
“Fuck?” I suggested.
“We don't do anything.”
“That must be frustrating. I've seen you hold his hand. I've seen you kiss him.”
Brandon blushed furiously. “Not often.”
“You live with him. You love him. You do, Brandon. You two light each other up when you're together. Don't deny it.”
“We're business partners. I do love him, kind of. But we don't have sex!”
“Why not?” I wasn't letting him off easily.
“Because ...” he leaned close and whispered, even though there was no one near us. “Because once when we tried, I threw up when ...”
“Say it!” I demanded.
“... when he put his dick in my mouth.”
“Didn't he shower after work?”
“Um, we did it at work … out in the field.”
“Cleanliness counts, Brandon,” was all the advice I had to offer. Euie interrupted us.
”Just the three of us?” Euie said as he sat down and signaled the waitress for another glass and another pitcher of beer. Before I could answer he gave us both a huge grin and said, “I think I'm in love with my butcher.”
“Your butcher? Really? You HAVE a butcher?”
“Now, Richard … He's not MY butcher specifically; he's everybody's butcher who shops at Enrico's in Georgetown.”
“Wow. I've heard they have great aged steaks,” Brandon commented.
“YOU know about Enrico's?” Brandon looked at me as if I was a troglodyte. “Money sure does change some people is all I have to say.”
“It's not a question of money … Enrico's buys some of our produce. You know, the things Buddy and I grow.”
“Awesome!” Euie said, charming Brandon. “That's awesome!” As if selling a few limp celery heads was a big accomplishment. “Is that your chard and parsley and uh … cilantro they sell? It's marked locally grown.”
I couldn't stand more discussion of vegetables, as if we're a bunch of lesbians. “Tell me more about the butcher.”
“Steve, right?” Brandon prompted. “He's the young one.”
“Busted,” Euie laughed. “Yeah, Steve.” He turned to me as if I needed a private explanation. “He's not really cute, not the way you think of cute. He's nice though and really a genius at … butchery? Is that the word? Butchering? Cutting meat. I get turned on by competence. You wouldn't believe how thin he can cut cheese.”
“Farting. I knew it. You're into farting.”
“They sell cheese at the meat counter, Richard,” Euie explained. Brandon was laughing uncontrollably as Euie's glass and a fresh pitcher arrived.
“Here y'all go,” Charleen said. “Haven't seen you in a while, Eustis.”
“Yes 'm, Miss Charleen, I've been real busy.”
Charleen sighed, her aging heart aflutter. “Euie, you are the cutest thing,” she added with a forgiving note.
“Euie, did you fuck her?” I whispered.
“Her daughter,” Euie whispered back loudly enough to be heard across the room.
“You're straight?” Brandon asked.
“No, he's not!” I interjected.
“But he just said ...” Brandon protested.
“I'm gender fluid,” Euie said. “I believe that's what it's called these days.”
“You're as gay as a Judy Garland festival, Euie. Don't give me any of that 'gender fluid' bullshit.”
“Just because you can't manage it, Richard, don't hamstring the rest of us.”
“Manage it! Manage it! I can ...”
“When? Name one time you did a girl.”
“Well, I could if I had to. Really! How does it always become about ME?”
“Because you attack others first,” Euie said dispassionately.
“Kind of ...” Brandon agreed, nodding genially.
“Honestly! I don't mean to. You just say such preposterous things. I have to respond.”
“No, you don't. You're supposed to tolerate eccentricities in friends … allow them a little room. The fact is I fucked Charlette. Why not accept it?”
“Charleen's daughter's name is Charlette? I think I knew a Charlette,” Brandon added.
“Well, there's something else we have in common,” Euie grinned. Brandon grinned back. Oh for God's sake!
I had to admit the idea of both of them fucking the same girl was kind of hot; the thought of it was giving me a semi. I have an uncanny ability to envision my friends having sex. I have no idea how accurate my vision is, but it's always arousing. Dirty movies in my head; cheap thrills. Jacking off. Yeah, well, back to the real world.
“Hey, y'all and Richard,” George Brightwater called out, joining the table. “We could almost have a board meeting if Buddy was here. Where is Buddy?” he asked Brandon.
“He's callin' on some kin of Tommy Lynn's.”
“Givin' 'em money?” George asked.
Brandon shrugged. “They're old. It's his money.”
“Old, yes. But every time I hear, there's more of them.”
It wasn't criticism, just a gratuitous judgment. So why isn't everybody pouncing on George. If I had said that, they'd be all over me.
“Fuck!” Hollis said, sitting down next to George. He had a scowl on his face.
“What's wrong?” I asked him.
“Nothing. It was an offer.”
Everybody laughed. Again, at my expense. I wondered if Hollis had told them about our little session. Of course, he had, the little shit. 'The time I raped Richard.' I could tell they all knew. We were waiting for Mac to arrive, but I was tired of being the butt of the jokes. I left. Went home. Masturbated. And felt disgusted.
Poor, maligned, pain in the ass, or ass that gets pained?, Richard.
The meeting of the board of Gay, and gender fluid fuck buddies is called to order and the first item on the agenda is sticking it to Richard - or something like that.
That was a fun read, Rory.
The meeting of the board of Gay, and gender fluid fuck buddies is called to order and the first item on the agenda is sticking it to Richard - or something like that.
That was a fun read, Rory.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Thirty-Six - George Brightwater
“You shouldn't have said that to Richard,” I whispered to Hollis as I watched Richard leave the bar. His response was to wiggle closer to me and put his hand on my thigh. Brandon and Euie pretended not to hear my reprimand. “We can't afford to lose him.”
“Sorry,” Hollis whispered back. “But you know how he sets me off.”
“He didn't do a thing. You barely sat down.”
“He knows stuff about me.”
“Stop it.”
“He does, George.”
“You know what I mean.” I didn't mean anything to do with Richard. What I meant to say was get your hand out of my jeans. Hollis had popped a few buttons and was playing with my dick. I knew I should have worn underwear. “NO!” I almost shouted.
Brandon and Euie looked over. “What?”
“Nothing,” I said and tried to pretend nothing was happening while Hollis stroked my cock to an erection. He grinned up innocently at me. The little fucker loves public sex. “Euie, what ever happened to that guy you were dating a couple Christmases ago?” Diversion worked. Euie pantomimed something to Brandon while I grabbed Hollis's hand and squeezed. Harder. Harder until it had to hurt him. He pulled his hand away and I tried to stuff my cock back in my jeans.
“Oh, shit! You mean the apple farmer?” Euie remembered and laughed; Euie had a nice laugh. “Rayner Reynolds … I was crazy for him. He went away with his family on a Christmas skiing trip and never came back. He transferred to some school in Europe.”
“You're crazy for everybody, Euie,” said Mac, who had just joined us. “Evenin' y'all.”
“I guess,” Euie admitted. “But Rayner was special. So how're you doin'?”
“Not much. I took a portfolio analysis to a customer in Falls Church and he offered me a drink. That's the way it starts. I told him, no, I had to drive and he acted like I'd asked for a divorce or something. You know, it's the fifty-somethings that are the most trouble. How come investment advisors can't claim sexual harassment?” Mac shook his head at the offer of beer and signaled to Charleen. “Whatcha got for brandy?”
“You don't want it.” Charleen wasn't looking for a discussion.
“Why not?”
“It's shitty.”
What's it called?”
She gave Mac an exasperated look. She spat out the name. “Coronet VSQ”
“What's the VSQ stand for.”
“Very Shitty Quality.”
“Ok. Anything brown and a lot of ice, por favor,” Mac compromised. Charleen left for the bar. “What's wrong with her tonight?”
“Nothing 'til you got here,” Euie joked.
“While you reminisce about lost loves? How many is it now?” Mac teased back.
“All of them,” Euie admitted.
“Not the butcher?”
“No, not the butcher … yet.”
Brandon was nonplussed. “Why? You're very ...” He got embarrassed by the compliment he was about to pay Euie. “I'd think you'd have no trouble at all.”
“He smothers them,” I suggested. “He looks for love from people who are incapable of loving.”
Thank you, Doctor,” Euie answered. “That's as good an explanation as any.”
“I love you, Euie.” Mac sounded sincere.
“But not in a sexy way,” Euie said.
“I love you in a sexy way,” Hollis said.
“George, control the boy,” Euie laughed.
“Seven and a half and it's thick. I'd make you happy,” Hollis pursued. Euie looked surprised, as if he was no longer sure whether Hollis was joking or not. The little fucker can do that, even to me, even after two years of being together.
Buddy arrived and popped Hollis's suspense-filled balloon. We no longer had to wonder if Hollis was a possibility for Euie. “Bad news,” Buddy began. “Where's Richard? Hey, Bran.” He gave Brandon a kiss on the cheek, ignoring whether anyone in the bar noticed.
“He just left a couple minutes ago,” I said, knowing Buddy was serious.
“Can you call him? Get him back?” Charleen arrived with Mac's drink. “Can I have one of those, too, Charleen?”
“This is from Charlette,” she said, glaring at Mac. “She says you're the father.” Mac's eyes about fell out.
“What? Say, WHAT?” Mac gulped. “!!!!” He tried but no words came out.
She put the drink down in front of Mac and said, “Buddy, hon, this drink is poisoned. I'll get you a regular one.” Mac automatically recoiled and looked at the drink with terror in his eyes.
Buddy smiled at Brandon with calm and complete satisfaction. “It's always like this Brandon. You should have stayed home. If we still have a home to go to ...”
“I can't get Richard … he's not picking up.” I put my phone back in my pocket. “What's the bad news, Buddy? Don't make us wait.”
“Tommy Lynn's relatives? They're not satisfied with what he left them. They want to break the will.”
“I guess we could let them have something more ...” I ventured.
“They want it all. They want the company. The money. The house. Everything.”
“Well, fuck 'em,” Euie said.
“They say we corrupted Tommy Lynn. Sexed him. Drugged him. Alienated him from his real family. If they go to court, there's a lot of our customers who are going to get outted. Real sudden like. Lives and families are gonna be ruined.”
“They can't do that! … Can they?” I looked around the table. There were no answers present.
“We need to get lawyered-up in a hurry,” Buddy sighed.
I got my phone out. “GOD DAMN IT ANSWER!!!” I typed. Silence followed. Charleen arrived with a drink for Buddy. He tossed it down in one swallow and offered her the glass for a refill.
My phone vibrated. “I'll think about that tomorrow,” appeared in the little box.
The party broke up. Hollis and I walked to my car. “Let's go home,” he said. “I want to fuck you while we still have a mattress.”
I started the car and then asked him, “Have you fucked Richard?” He acted hurt.
“George, I don't fuck around nearly as much as you think I do.”
“Did you?”
“Maybe ... a little ... back when I was new. You knew at the time! And nothing since. Stop the car.” I did. He kissed me with an unusual amount of passion. “You're the only one I care about.”
The rest of the trip he touched me, not in a sexual way, more in a familiar way, a little clingy in fact. The sex that followed when we got home was spectacular. It was the talk afterward that was disconcerting. He kept asking questions about Euie – all the while lying in my arms acting all fucked out.
“Ask Euie himself. He'll tell you.” I was through giving out Euie-info. That was after he asked about the Turkish oil wrestling.
“Maybe I will. It sounds hot, Turkish oil wrestling. You want to fuck me again? Because if you don't, I'm taking a Tylenol PM.” I said nothing, just enjoyed holding him. He can be very affectionate.
“Are you having trouble sleeping?” I asked after a bit. No answer. He was already asleep.
“You shouldn't have said that to Richard,” I whispered to Hollis as I watched Richard leave the bar. His response was to wiggle closer to me and put his hand on my thigh. Brandon and Euie pretended not to hear my reprimand. “We can't afford to lose him.”
“Sorry,” Hollis whispered back. “But you know how he sets me off.”
“He didn't do a thing. You barely sat down.”
“He knows stuff about me.”
“Stop it.”
“He does, George.”
“You know what I mean.” I didn't mean anything to do with Richard. What I meant to say was get your hand out of my jeans. Hollis had popped a few buttons and was playing with my dick. I knew I should have worn underwear. “NO!” I almost shouted.
Brandon and Euie looked over. “What?”
“Nothing,” I said and tried to pretend nothing was happening while Hollis stroked my cock to an erection. He grinned up innocently at me. The little fucker loves public sex. “Euie, what ever happened to that guy you were dating a couple Christmases ago?” Diversion worked. Euie pantomimed something to Brandon while I grabbed Hollis's hand and squeezed. Harder. Harder until it had to hurt him. He pulled his hand away and I tried to stuff my cock back in my jeans.
“Oh, shit! You mean the apple farmer?” Euie remembered and laughed; Euie had a nice laugh. “Rayner Reynolds … I was crazy for him. He went away with his family on a Christmas skiing trip and never came back. He transferred to some school in Europe.”
“You're crazy for everybody, Euie,” said Mac, who had just joined us. “Evenin' y'all.”
“I guess,” Euie admitted. “But Rayner was special. So how're you doin'?”
“Not much. I took a portfolio analysis to a customer in Falls Church and he offered me a drink. That's the way it starts. I told him, no, I had to drive and he acted like I'd asked for a divorce or something. You know, it's the fifty-somethings that are the most trouble. How come investment advisors can't claim sexual harassment?” Mac shook his head at the offer of beer and signaled to Charleen. “Whatcha got for brandy?”
“You don't want it.” Charleen wasn't looking for a discussion.
“Why not?”
“It's shitty.”
What's it called?”
She gave Mac an exasperated look. She spat out the name. “Coronet VSQ”
“What's the VSQ stand for.”
“Very Shitty Quality.”
“Ok. Anything brown and a lot of ice, por favor,” Mac compromised. Charleen left for the bar. “What's wrong with her tonight?”
“Nothing 'til you got here,” Euie joked.
“While you reminisce about lost loves? How many is it now?” Mac teased back.
“All of them,” Euie admitted.
“Not the butcher?”
“No, not the butcher … yet.”
Brandon was nonplussed. “Why? You're very ...” He got embarrassed by the compliment he was about to pay Euie. “I'd think you'd have no trouble at all.”
“He smothers them,” I suggested. “He looks for love from people who are incapable of loving.”
Thank you, Doctor,” Euie answered. “That's as good an explanation as any.”
“I love you, Euie.” Mac sounded sincere.
“But not in a sexy way,” Euie said.
“I love you in a sexy way,” Hollis said.
“George, control the boy,” Euie laughed.
“Seven and a half and it's thick. I'd make you happy,” Hollis pursued. Euie looked surprised, as if he was no longer sure whether Hollis was joking or not. The little fucker can do that, even to me, even after two years of being together.
Buddy arrived and popped Hollis's suspense-filled balloon. We no longer had to wonder if Hollis was a possibility for Euie. “Bad news,” Buddy began. “Where's Richard? Hey, Bran.” He gave Brandon a kiss on the cheek, ignoring whether anyone in the bar noticed.
“He just left a couple minutes ago,” I said, knowing Buddy was serious.
“Can you call him? Get him back?” Charleen arrived with Mac's drink. “Can I have one of those, too, Charleen?”
“This is from Charlette,” she said, glaring at Mac. “She says you're the father.” Mac's eyes about fell out.
“What? Say, WHAT?” Mac gulped. “!!!!” He tried but no words came out.
She put the drink down in front of Mac and said, “Buddy, hon, this drink is poisoned. I'll get you a regular one.” Mac automatically recoiled and looked at the drink with terror in his eyes.
Buddy smiled at Brandon with calm and complete satisfaction. “It's always like this Brandon. You should have stayed home. If we still have a home to go to ...”
“I can't get Richard … he's not picking up.” I put my phone back in my pocket. “What's the bad news, Buddy? Don't make us wait.”
“Tommy Lynn's relatives? They're not satisfied with what he left them. They want to break the will.”
“I guess we could let them have something more ...” I ventured.
“They want it all. They want the company. The money. The house. Everything.”
“Well, fuck 'em,” Euie said.
“They say we corrupted Tommy Lynn. Sexed him. Drugged him. Alienated him from his real family. If they go to court, there's a lot of our customers who are going to get outted. Real sudden like. Lives and families are gonna be ruined.”
“They can't do that! … Can they?” I looked around the table. There were no answers present.
“We need to get lawyered-up in a hurry,” Buddy sighed.
I got my phone out. “GOD DAMN IT ANSWER!!!” I typed. Silence followed. Charleen arrived with a drink for Buddy. He tossed it down in one swallow and offered her the glass for a refill.
My phone vibrated. “I'll think about that tomorrow,” appeared in the little box.
The party broke up. Hollis and I walked to my car. “Let's go home,” he said. “I want to fuck you while we still have a mattress.”
I started the car and then asked him, “Have you fucked Richard?” He acted hurt.
“George, I don't fuck around nearly as much as you think I do.”
“Did you?”
“Maybe ... a little ... back when I was new. You knew at the time! And nothing since. Stop the car.” I did. He kissed me with an unusual amount of passion. “You're the only one I care about.”
The rest of the trip he touched me, not in a sexual way, more in a familiar way, a little clingy in fact. The sex that followed when we got home was spectacular. It was the talk afterward that was disconcerting. He kept asking questions about Euie – all the while lying in my arms acting all fucked out.
“Ask Euie himself. He'll tell you.” I was through giving out Euie-info. That was after he asked about the Turkish oil wrestling.
“Maybe I will. It sounds hot, Turkish oil wrestling. You want to fuck me again? Because if you don't, I'm taking a Tylenol PM.” I said nothing, just enjoyed holding him. He can be very affectionate.
“Are you having trouble sleeping?” I asked after a bit. No answer. He was already asleep.
As the World Turns, Gay VA style...
Here's hoping they can figure out a way to keep the bastard family members from getting anywhere near close to the company - or the money. They didn't give a shit about Tommy Lynn when he was alive, they sure as fuck don't deserve his estate now that he's dead.
Here's hoping they can figure out a way to keep the bastard family members from getting anywhere near close to the company - or the money. They didn't give a shit about Tommy Lynn when he was alive, they sure as fuck don't deserve his estate now that he's dead.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Thirty-Seven - Hollis
“Oh … Yes … NNNNGH … DO IT … AH! AH! FUCK! … I'M COMING! FUUUUCK!!”
I'm usually a good predictor of things and I did in fact shoot all over Rayner's face. He tried to blame ME, of course; but he was the one with my cock in hand. It was HIS bad aim, not mine.
“God damn it, Hollis ...”
“Shut up and kiss me!”
I like being kissed after I've come, especially after I've come while being fucked. I need a little comfort then. He KNOWS this. We've been fucking since the semester started. And, come on, that's not a tiny dick I'm taking.
“Ah … that was sweet … as usual...” I try being appreciative and what does it get me?
“Gimme a towel, damn it.” Rayner was blinking his eyes furiously; he must have got jizz in them.
“Aw, why is my pretty boy all frowny-faced?” He tried to stay mad but he couldn't. Once he wiped his face off he lay back down and kissed me some more.
“We came almost at the same time,” he sighed. “We're getting' good at this.”
“That's because we're not in love. It gives us enough distance that we can concentrate on perfecting the sex.”
“Am I fucking you too much?”
“What would too much be? Three times a day?”
“You know what I mean. I'm always the top lately.”
“Aren't you the considerate dude!” If I didn't like getting fucked, I wouldn't do it. He didn't seem to get that. Shit. Now he looks hurt. “Come on, Ray … it's just sex. Pretty good sex. Pretty great sex, in fact. If you want to take a dick, I can arrange that.” He smiled and nodded. “Evan is dying to fuck you.” Which was true. My roommate would do anything to get a shot at Rayner. “He's got a nice dick,” which was also true. It was Evan's face that cut into his score count. Not a pretty boy. But after you get to know him he gets better looking. At least I think so. Rayner, obviously, didn't. “There you go all frowny-faced again.”
“You are such a ball-buster, Hollis.” Rayner got out of bed and stretched. What a hot body. I could stare at him for days. He claims he used to be skinny and look like a kid until he spent six months in Europe eating. Evan who knew him before says it was true; he looked like a boy. Which made me wonder if that was what Euie goes for. Real young ones maybe?
“Rayner, you remember a dude named Euie?” He spun around and looked at me. “I work with him and he mentioned your name. I didn't tell him I knew you.”
Rayner pulled on some clothes, spoiling my view before he answered. “Yes. We were … uh … close for a while. How well do you know him?”
“Well enough to want to fuck him; but he doesn't seem interested.”
“Did he say anything about me?”
“I believe he called you 'special'. We were having a discussion about the fact he falls in love with every dude he meets and another dude said, 'Who was that apple farmer you used to date?' or something like that. That's when he mentioned your name.”
“I came closer to lovin' Euie than any other guy I've ever known. I mean it was this close!” He held his thumb and forefinger a millimeter apart. “What does he do?”
“He's a fairly successful at signing up new accounts at the investment firm I work for on weekends.”
“Salesman, huh? I figured he wouldn't be a numbers-nerd. He's action oriented … very.”
“Everybody likes him.” I said that a little too wistfully.
Rayner laughed. “You, too, huh? Well, you couldn't do much better.” Rayner paused. “Damn! I probably fucked that one up. Totally my fault.”
“Yeah, no. He's got no time for me. He's having wet dreams over some butcher in Georgetown.”
Rayner laughed heartily. “A butcher! That is SO LIKE EUIE. It's all about the dude. He doesn't give a shit about money or education or … anything else. I bet that butcher is smokin' hot. Have you ever seen the way Euie lights up when he's with somebody he likes?”
“You mean the way you are lighting up talking about him?” Rayner almost blushed. I say almost. It was close. “You'd go back with him, wouldn't you?”
“No … no … I don't think so … well ...”
“You want to meet him? I can arrange that.”
“A blind date? We're kinda past that.”
“No. I work on weekends during school. He's usually there on Saturday mornings. I can take you along for an orientation and we'll just happen to bump into him.”
“Sounds lame and contrived,” Rayner said, waggling his cock at me before he zipped up.
“He doesn't think like that. He'll think it's pure accident or kismet or something.”
“Yeah, ok, maybe. I'll think about it. Are you just gonna lie there? Don't you have class or something?” Rayner was finished dressing and ready to leave.
“Evan's due back any minute. I like to keep a little sexual tension going. He gets flustered when he sees me naked.”
“You're a dick, you know?” At that moment Evan walked in and looked from one of us to the other and back again.
“Oh … uh … sorry … I ...” He left quickly closing the door with a small slam.
“Yep, a dick, but you like it, don't you, Rayner?” He didn't answer directly.
“You want to get together tomorrow, maybe three-thirty? My room this time?”
Five minutes later I was dressed. I probably should have showered, but I was hungry.
Evan arrived back breathless. “Did you and Rayner just …?” He couldn't say the word.
“I have no idea what you mean. Just what?”
“You know … have sex? I saw Evan on the way out and he seemed very up.”
“Evan thinks he's fuckin' me too much. He wants to bottom. I told him you be glad to do it.”
“Jeez! Hollis! You didn't!”
“You gotta put yourself out there, Evan. You'll never get laid sitting in the room waiting for Princess Charming to drop by. Repeat after me: I have a beautiful body.” He would die before he said that. The thing is he does have a beautiful body. God knows where he got it. He never goes to the gym. “Evan, say it: I have a beautiful body …” His ass especially. I hugged him and pulled him close. He resisted, “You absolutely do, admit it.” I squeezed his butt in both my hands before he got loose.
“Don't tease me, Hollis.”
“You want to come to work with me next Saturday?”
“YES! Really? Could I?”
“Maybe Rayner will come along, too.”
“Oh … Yes … NNNNGH … DO IT … AH! AH! FUCK! … I'M COMING! FUUUUCK!!”
I'm usually a good predictor of things and I did in fact shoot all over Rayner's face. He tried to blame ME, of course; but he was the one with my cock in hand. It was HIS bad aim, not mine.
“God damn it, Hollis ...”
“Shut up and kiss me!”
I like being kissed after I've come, especially after I've come while being fucked. I need a little comfort then. He KNOWS this. We've been fucking since the semester started. And, come on, that's not a tiny dick I'm taking.
“Ah … that was sweet … as usual...” I try being appreciative and what does it get me?
“Gimme a towel, damn it.” Rayner was blinking his eyes furiously; he must have got jizz in them.
“Aw, why is my pretty boy all frowny-faced?” He tried to stay mad but he couldn't. Once he wiped his face off he lay back down and kissed me some more.
“We came almost at the same time,” he sighed. “We're getting' good at this.”
“That's because we're not in love. It gives us enough distance that we can concentrate on perfecting the sex.”
“Am I fucking you too much?”
“What would too much be? Three times a day?”
“You know what I mean. I'm always the top lately.”
“Aren't you the considerate dude!” If I didn't like getting fucked, I wouldn't do it. He didn't seem to get that. Shit. Now he looks hurt. “Come on, Ray … it's just sex. Pretty good sex. Pretty great sex, in fact. If you want to take a dick, I can arrange that.” He smiled and nodded. “Evan is dying to fuck you.” Which was true. My roommate would do anything to get a shot at Rayner. “He's got a nice dick,” which was also true. It was Evan's face that cut into his score count. Not a pretty boy. But after you get to know him he gets better looking. At least I think so. Rayner, obviously, didn't. “There you go all frowny-faced again.”
“You are such a ball-buster, Hollis.” Rayner got out of bed and stretched. What a hot body. I could stare at him for days. He claims he used to be skinny and look like a kid until he spent six months in Europe eating. Evan who knew him before says it was true; he looked like a boy. Which made me wonder if that was what Euie goes for. Real young ones maybe?
“Rayner, you remember a dude named Euie?” He spun around and looked at me. “I work with him and he mentioned your name. I didn't tell him I knew you.”
Rayner pulled on some clothes, spoiling my view before he answered. “Yes. We were … uh … close for a while. How well do you know him?”
“Well enough to want to fuck him; but he doesn't seem interested.”
“Did he say anything about me?”
“I believe he called you 'special'. We were having a discussion about the fact he falls in love with every dude he meets and another dude said, 'Who was that apple farmer you used to date?' or something like that. That's when he mentioned your name.”
“I came closer to lovin' Euie than any other guy I've ever known. I mean it was this close!” He held his thumb and forefinger a millimeter apart. “What does he do?”
“He's a fairly successful at signing up new accounts at the investment firm I work for on weekends.”
“Salesman, huh? I figured he wouldn't be a numbers-nerd. He's action oriented … very.”
“Everybody likes him.” I said that a little too wistfully.
Rayner laughed. “You, too, huh? Well, you couldn't do much better.” Rayner paused. “Damn! I probably fucked that one up. Totally my fault.”
“Yeah, no. He's got no time for me. He's having wet dreams over some butcher in Georgetown.”
Rayner laughed heartily. “A butcher! That is SO LIKE EUIE. It's all about the dude. He doesn't give a shit about money or education or … anything else. I bet that butcher is smokin' hot. Have you ever seen the way Euie lights up when he's with somebody he likes?”
“You mean the way you are lighting up talking about him?” Rayner almost blushed. I say almost. It was close. “You'd go back with him, wouldn't you?”
“No … no … I don't think so … well ...”
“You want to meet him? I can arrange that.”
“A blind date? We're kinda past that.”
“No. I work on weekends during school. He's usually there on Saturday mornings. I can take you along for an orientation and we'll just happen to bump into him.”
“Sounds lame and contrived,” Rayner said, waggling his cock at me before he zipped up.
“He doesn't think like that. He'll think it's pure accident or kismet or something.”
“Yeah, ok, maybe. I'll think about it. Are you just gonna lie there? Don't you have class or something?” Rayner was finished dressing and ready to leave.
“Evan's due back any minute. I like to keep a little sexual tension going. He gets flustered when he sees me naked.”
“You're a dick, you know?” At that moment Evan walked in and looked from one of us to the other and back again.
“Oh … uh … sorry … I ...” He left quickly closing the door with a small slam.
“Yep, a dick, but you like it, don't you, Rayner?” He didn't answer directly.
“You want to get together tomorrow, maybe three-thirty? My room this time?”
Five minutes later I was dressed. I probably should have showered, but I was hungry.
Evan arrived back breathless. “Did you and Rayner just …?” He couldn't say the word.
“I have no idea what you mean. Just what?”
“You know … have sex? I saw Evan on the way out and he seemed very up.”
“Evan thinks he's fuckin' me too much. He wants to bottom. I told him you be glad to do it.”
“Jeez! Hollis! You didn't!”
“You gotta put yourself out there, Evan. You'll never get laid sitting in the room waiting for Princess Charming to drop by. Repeat after me: I have a beautiful body.” He would die before he said that. The thing is he does have a beautiful body. God knows where he got it. He never goes to the gym. “Evan, say it: I have a beautiful body …” His ass especially. I hugged him and pulled him close. He resisted, “You absolutely do, admit it.” I squeezed his butt in both my hands before he got loose.
“Don't tease me, Hollis.”
“You want to come to work with me next Saturday?”
“YES! Really? Could I?”
“Maybe Rayner will come along, too.”
