Rory's Stories

[EasyRory]

Rory's Stories

Session One

“Why are you here, Mr. Dickson?”

“Call me Rory. Well, I have trouble sustaining personal relationships. People always decide I'm a ditz, an airhead, or just cold and unfeeling, and then they more or less walk away. Do you want me to lie on the couch?”

“Only if you want to. These are just basic getting-to-know-you questions. Under sexual orientation I see you wrote 'uncertain'.” The middle-aged Dr. Klezmer scanned the pages of patient history that Rory had painstakingly filled out in small precise letters.

“Yes, I do what I think people expect. It's all the same to me.”

“We can probe that further. Your physical history looks good. All the basic lab tests are well within the normal range. Any complaints, Rory?”

“Physical? No, but sometimes I miss hard work.”

“What kind of hard work?”

“Farming. I grew up on a farm in New Mexico.”

“I didn't know there were farms in New Mexico,” Dr. Klezmer observed, perhaps inappropriately.

“Not many. We mostly grew cotton and chiles, some vegetables for local sale,” Rory said, giving chiles a Spanish pronunciation.

The doctor began by examining Rory's head and neck, twisting and palpating. “Your hair is an unusual color, dark with flashes of red, almost like a stained red oak,” commented the balding doctor. “Would you remove your shirt, please?” The doctor continued his examination, listening, thumping, tapping. “And now your trousers and shoes, please? Are you cold? You can put your shirt back on.”

“No, why would you think I was cold?”

“Your nipples contracted,” he replied and he check feet, ankles and knees.

“Only after you twisted them,” Rory replied.

The doctor blushed faintly and said, “Alright, stand please and drop your underwear.” Rory complied and the doctor performed tests checking for hernia and testicular abnormalities. “Turn and bend over the table please.” Rory flinched as the finger penetrated him. “Good, you can get dressed. I'll be back in a few minutes.”

Rory dressed and looked at the doctor's book shelf while he waited. He wondered if seeing a psychiatrist was the right thing to do; but Andrew had insisted on it and the company insurance was paying for it. “I'm crazy about you, Rory. I'd do anything for you; but I can't live with a nut case.” Andrew's hard words echoed in Rory's head. Andrew had assured Rory he was joking about calling him 'a nut case' and Rory knew that Andrew trusted him and frequently demonstrated his love; but the words festered and Rory decided it couldn't hurt to look for a little counseling.

The doctor returned to the room and handed Rory a referral. “I'm afraid I can't treat you, Rory. That is the name of another doctor, who, I believe, would be more suited to you.”

“Why can't you treat me doctor? Your reaction is part of my problem. I drive people away.”

“I'm going to tell you the truth. I don't believe I could treat you properly. I find your physical presence so compelling, I doubt I could evaluate you fairly or recommend appropriate treatment. I've had problems before with patients I was attracted to and I can't let it happen again.” The doctor moved toward the door, putting his hand on the knob, suggesting the visit was over.

“Before I go, please help me a little. What's compelling about me and what is driving you away? Please tell me that much. I want to change.”

“Look at me,” the doctor said. “I'm almost forty and I look almost fifty. You are twenty-five and look … Well, there's no way to describe your looks. You look the way I wish I looked; the way I never looked. You are the young man I always dreamed of. Green eyes – so rare. Always a weakness of mine. Your body is beautifully toned. You look great in clothes, even better out of them. What drives me away is I'm afraid of you. You could make me do foolish things. It's not your fault; you didn't do anything. It's my problem, facing up to age and declining appeal, despairing, desperate, thinking I'll never have hot sex again.”

Rory looked earnestly at the doctor and said, “Well, if I'm no longer your patient, are you desperate enough to react to a couple of buttons?” He unbuttoned his top shirt button and then the next one down.

Indecision flashed across Dr. Klezmer's face and then he locked the door instead of opening it and mover closer to his former patient. He took Rory's hand and placed it on his burgeoning erection. “What's that feel like?” He moaned as Rory gave him a little squeeze and opened another button on Rory's shirt. He pulled it open and began sucking on a nipple.

Rory removed his shirt to give the doctor better access and the man went wild. “Oh, Rory, it's been so long,” he sighed as he moved to the other nipple. Then he tried for a kiss but Rory turned to avoid it. The doctor began removing his clothes as quickly as possible, struggling with the lab coat and ripping it. “I can't believe this. I can't believe it.” He pulled down his boxers, revealing a cock standing up proudly.

“I thought it would get bigger than that, but this is fine,” Rory said. He began gently stroking the doctor with one hand and exploring his ass crack with the other.

The doctor groaned when Rory found his asshole. “Oh, baby, use the KY and a rubber glove, ok? That really turns me on,” he said urgently, giving Rory a little bite on the neck. “Come on, baby, hurry, hurry,” he said, stepping out of his boxers, turning, and bending over the examining table.

Rory entered him with his middle finger and the doctor clenched his ass, “Oh, yes! Deeper, baby. Feel all around. Now feel toward the front.” The doctor squirmed as Rory probed. “Oowww,” he cooed when Rory found his prostate. “Use two fingers, honey, give it to me good. Yes. YES!” The doctor squirmed and thrust his ass back against Rory's twin probes. “You want to fuck me, baby? Huh?”

“Sure, if that's what you want,” Rory answered.

“Reach in that drawer and get the silver condom. No, the other drawer. Yes that's right. Now put it on and grease it good with KY.”

Rory pulled his pants down and rolled on the condom. It was a little snug, and with the KY all over it, it looked strange, shiny and metallic.

“Oh, baby, it looks just like a Kelly proctoscope on you. Stick it in. Have a look at my ass. OH JEEZ! More KY, honey. And go slow at first. AAAHHH!” As Rory entered him the doctor came for the first time, his dick spitting cum up his chest. “No, don't pull out. Keep looking around in there. Can you go deeper. OH! Mmmmmmfffgh! Fuck, yes. Just like that. What do you see? It is all pink and juicy?”

“It's an amazing asshole; nothing like it,” Rory said with what he hoped was enthusiasm. “Oh I feel some resistance. Let me push a little harder.”

“FUCK! Oh God! Maybe too much, honey.” The doctor was hard again. “SHIT! Wait! No!”

“Here, just a little more,” Rory said. He grabbed the doctor's cock for leverage and thrust with all his might. The hard cock went off in his hand.

“Ooooooooh! Sigmoidoscope! Proctologist! Fuuuuuuck!” the doctor went crazy as Rory thrust repeatedly, hard enough to break the condom, coming with abandon partly in the doctor and partly outside on his stomach.

“Yeah!” Rory sighed as if tasting a good beer. He pulled off the split condom, wiped himself off with a few tissues, pulled up his pants and reached for his shirt.

The doctor tried to get off the table too quickly, and collapsed onto the floor. “Wow, I must look silly as shit down here.”

Rory gave him a friendly smile and said, “Yeah, you sure do look like shit.” This admission of the obvious somehow pissed off the doctor.

“Now you're insulting me? I look like shit? What are you trying to do?” Dr. Klezmer reacted angrily, trying to get up and grab Rory.

“See,” Rory said. “That why I came here. You wanted sex and I gave it to you just the way you wanted. You said you looked like shit and all I did was agree. Now you blame me; and all I did was what YOU wanted. Maybe you're the one with the problem.” The doctor moved toward Rory. “Calm down, Doc. I'm a lot bigger than you,” Rory ordered, buttoning his shirt.

Rory got back to their new house and told Andrew what had happened. Andrew laughed and then kissed him. “There's nobody like you, Rory. Living with you is like an amusement park; I never know what ride I'll be on.” Andrew looked at his lover's handsome face and knew he adored him. He kissed Rory again very tenderly. “But you are going to that other doctor, right?”

The other doctor was much older and Rory felt certain there would be no sexual component to his visit. The new doctor needed all the old questions answered over again and Rory asked him why he couldn't just use Dr. Klezmer's records.

“Dr Klezmer is no longer in practice and I don't believe his records are available. It's being looked into,” responded Dr. Davis - old Dr. Davis - old, safe Dr. Davis, the hypnotist.

 

[DonQuixote]

responded Dr. Davis - old Dr. Davis - old, safe Dr. Davis, the hypnotist

DANGER, Will Robinson, DANGER, lol

Safe, old doctor Hypnotist, lol.

And thus begins our more in=depth look at Andrew and Rory, mayhaps with some side trips up the street?

Rory, Rory, Rory - ya gots ta be careful about being TOO agreeable, lol.

I see the problem now, doctor - Rory's too fucking honest and lacking in the art of use of the little white lie. Social Graces, yeah, that's the term.

Thanks for remembering us, kind author of Northern California.

 

[seanystarr]

woo hoo...new story from easyrory...made my day!

 

[EasyRory]

Session Two

“Rory, what is your earliest memory?” Dr. Davis asked.

“I remember my grandfather telling me that my mother had left the farm temporarily to take a job in Dallas. We always pretended she would come back, but she never did.”

“Alright, now I'd like you to describe your childhood in New Mexico, as much as you can remember.”

“There isn't much to tell; I lived with my mother, grandparents and Uncle Phil. Mom left and then I was more lonesome. The farm was pretty bleak, but it was ok. Everybody worked in the fields and sometimes there would be Mexican help at harvest time. I went to a small school and did well. And then I was sent to live with Uncle Angus and Aunt Maggie in Los Angeles.”

“Rory, I'd like to know more about your youth and I suspect you would too. Would you be willing to try hypnosis to see what we can learn?”

“Aren't those 'recalled memories' suspect, doctor? I'm not sure I need to learn things that might not be true.”

“Don't confuse this with supposed memories of prior lives. We wouldn't force you to remember or suggest events to you, merely ask questions with your mind in a more open state.”

“I'd like to discuss this with my friend Andrew. If he agrees, I'll do it next session, ok?”

“Of course. Meanwhile tell me about Andrew. He is a friend you've been able to keep?”

“Well, I met him at dinner with friends one night and we have more or less been together ever since. It started out as his idea but I've gotten used to it and don't mind. It's better than where I was living and convenient to work. He does a lot for me and it's his house.”

“What do you do for him?”

“Nothing. I mean I do work around the house and we split the bills, not the mortgage, but the other ones.”

“No, I meant as a friend or perhaps as a lover, how do you help him?”

“Oh, he says he loves me, but I don't know if that's true. He definitely likes sex, so we do that a lot.”

“Rory, I think there's a lot you're not telling me. I'm not saying you don't want to; I just think there are things you haven't really told yourself yet. Inchoate memories that are unsettling to you. With your cooperation and, of course, with your desire, I think we can work those things out. You should find friendships and perhaps love are easier to understand and join into. Do think about the hypnotism; it doesn't hurt and you won't feel out of control at any point. It's not all that mysterious; it's really just an organized approach to relaxing.”

When Rory got home Andrew was on the small porch off their second floor bedroom trying to sun himself as the afternoon fog began to move in from the ocean and spill over the hills of the San Francisco peninsula.

“If I stay out here in the sun any longer, I'll be a nice shade of blue,” the naked Andrew quipped. “Want to join me, Ror? Tan lines are so out this season.”

Rory sat in a chair glad for every stitch of his clothing as the wind chilled him. The view of the bay was partly obscured by houses, but he could see the ships at anchor and a part of the city where lights were beginning to come on. “Aren't you cold?” he asked Andrew. “Doctor Davis wants to hypnotize me. Do you think I should let him?

Andrew stood, wrapping the towel he had been lying on around his waist. He kissed Rory, looking for a response. “I think you should do whatever you want. Do you know how handsome you look, deep in thought with the last of the sun on your face? I have the most beautiful boyfriend in Alameda.”

Rory smiled briefly and went inside. He kicked off his shoes and lay on the bed. Andrew flopped down next to him. He put his hand on Rory's chest and the slid a couple fingers in between the buttons, excited by the feel of the hair on Rory's chest. “I bet this towel would come right off if you tugged at it,” he whispered to Rory. “I'd be all naked for you.” He kissed Rory's cheek. “You want to?”

Wordlessly, Rory unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off. Andrew helped with the zipper on his jeans and then carefully pulled out Rory's semi-hard cock. He gently stroked Rory to full hardness and then licked his lips looking at his accomplishment. He began kissing and licking gently, then with growing fervor as Rory began breathing deeper. Andrew paused and moved up alongside his lover. He pulled Rory's face toward himself and kissed him. “God, I love you. You take my breath away. Tell me what to do.”

Rory replied, “Let's get under a blanket. There's a breeze coming in the door.”

Andrew got out of bed and closed the door. He helped Rory remove the rest of his clothes, tugging the jeans off his ankles. He grabbed a folded blanket off a chair and jumped back onto the bed, wearing the blanket like Superman's cape. He straddled Rory' ankles and then walked forward on his knees, sitting on Rory's pelvis. He bent forward and they kissed again as Andrew spread the blanket out covering them. Andrew lay on top and closed his legs together, holding Rory's hard cock between his thighs. Rory closed his eyes and began slow gentle thrusts moaning his pleasure.

“This is the part I like, when we're so close and we can feel each other breathing. So comfortable. So sexy. I like the feel of my cock nestling in your pubes,” said Andrew. “Do you like it too?” He gave Rory a kiss and ached for an ardent response.

“I like what you like,” Rory said.

Andrew interpreted these few words to mean everything he wanted to hear. “I know what you'll like even better, Ror.” Andrew pulled a bottle of lube out of the night table and slicked up Rory's cock. “We're gonna need another bottle,” he noted as he maneuvered himself onto the slick hardness and slowly lowered himself. “Oow. Oh, baby, I'm never quite ready for all of you.” Bit by bit Andrew lowered himself until he sat fully on Rory's pelvis. He began slowly bouncing, watching Rory's reaction and jacking himself.

At first Rory lay passively accepting Andrew's efforts but gradually he felt a growing heat, an urgency. He rolled Andrew onto his back and fucked him hard and non-stop until, with a final thrust, the flood of semen came. Gasping, Rory pulled Andrew close and kissed him repeatedly him with great need. Then the passion faded and he rolled them onto their sides. His cock deflated and eventually popped out. Andrew had also come by his own hand and they relaxed in the afterglow.

“Should I agree to be hypnotized?” Rory questioned as if nothing had intervened since he last asked.

“Sure, babe, do it,” Andrew sighed still out of breath, lying limp against his partner's chest, feeling exhausted but still restlessly incomplete. Andrew smiled at the puzzled look on Rory's face. “Are you thinking about how much I love you?” he asked.

“No, I'm wondering what 'inchoate' means.” Rory watched his simple reply completely bewilder the man who loved him.

At work the next day Rory told the other programmers in his work group that he was planning to be hypnotized. Reactions ranged from “Cool!” by Cyril to “That's like radiation treatment on your head, dude,” by Engine. Bernice was indifferent.

Cyril's views tended to be what his friends called French orthodox, a variation on vanilla. Rory never understood the reference even after he learned first hand about Cyril's oral fixation. Rory permitted Cyril to perform occasional blowjobs when Cyril's needs overwhelmed his ability to work. It was never discussed and didn't happen often, maybe once a month or so; otherwise, Cyril was the best data matrix manipulator at the company.

Engine's thoughts were more random, echoing the 'vroom, vroom', sounds he made to himself much of the time. Hidden by a bad complexion, terrible posture, and a few extra pounds ran the Engine of promise, the Engine no one could envision, except maybe his mother in her dreams. Engine designed simple and elegant visual interfaces.

Bernice had retained her teenage Goth look. It was a look that for years gave her lasting pleasure and one that allowed her to incorporate her tongue into everyday gestures. She teased Engine relentlessly, flaunting herself and then denying him even a prayer of hope. She regularly hinted to Engine that she would allow Rory any liberty imaginable, but in fact that had happened only once and had been only minimally satisfying. Bernice could effortlessly troubleshoot code more twisted than a bowl of spaghetti.

“See if the doc can mentally implant the ability to play the accordion, Rory,” Cyril proposed. “I'd like to be able to do that.”

“Why? It's Siouxsie and the Banshees, dude, or else a polka band in Minnesota,” Bernice pronounced carefully, favoring a fresh piercing in her lower lip. Bernice had an encyclopedic knowledge of obscure Brit rockers. “You know, Rory, you be a good hook for Siouxsie; with your big … er, your hot body you'd look great together.” She glanced at Engine to see his reaction.

“Yeah, but think about squeezing that box. Vroom, vroom, dude; like squeezing Bernice after she's had a few Jager bombs.”

“As if you'll ever know, Engine...” Bernice countered.

Engine ignored her and settled for unconsciously and rhythmically squeezing his cock. The vrooms were very quiet as he squinted at his screen.

Rory concentrated on Dr. Davis' soothing voice. “You feel relaxed and your mind is opening. You can see yourself as a child; it's like watching a movie . You are not that child, but you can watch and understand his thoughts. They were your thoughts once and you will remember them when this session is over. What do you see?”

“I see Rory with his mother. He's trying to help her weed the chile bushes but he's being pestered by a dog ...” Rory laughed the laugh of a child. “The dog is named Whip because of his tail.”

“Is there anyone else there?”

“Rory's father is coming. He scoops up Rory and carries him on his shoulders. He kisses his mother and they walk together to the farmhouse. She calls him Fergus. The dog is jumping up on his father's legs and his father says 'Run, Whip. Run, boy,' and Whip speeds through the chile rows.”

“Open your eyes, Rory. Do you remember what you told me?”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“That was a beautiful memory.”

Rory smiled with awe. “I had forgotten Whip when he was young. I remembered only old Whip, when he could barely get off the porch.”

 

[DonQuixote]

Rory,
You are definitely doing a great job with this - an in-depth look at what's made Rory so disconnected from the pleasure of life that he can easily be a part of - IS a part of to Andrew.

Thanks for continuing to bring us the people of your imaginative mind.
You make them very real for us.

 

[EasyRory]

Session Three


“Just Whip? Was that your only surprise?” Dr. Davis asked.

“No, my father was a total surprise. I didn't remember him at all and my grandparents told me his name was Robert, not Fergus.”

“What does your birth certificate say his name was?”

“I don't know. I don't have it,” Rory admitted.

“Well, for your homework, I want you to get a copy of it. That shouldn't be too hard, and it will help if you ever want a passport.”

Rory got home and found himself alone. Andrew frequently worked late, so it wasn't surprising. From the little bedroom porch Rory could see some of the charred remains of the Tiki, his former apartment. He wondered if there was anything of value left in his old apartment. He decided to walk the few blocks distance and investigate while there was still light.

He felt good walking toward the bayshore, remembering his vision of his old dog Whip in his prime. Rory began to run and felt his body respond to his urging; he lengthened his stride and covered the few blocks from San Antonio Avenue to the shore quickly. He attracted some looks, since he was running all out wearing street clothes; but people turned back to what they had been doing once they saw the joy of his expression.

“Rory!” came a call. “Over here!”

It was Devon, the man who had suffered, however accidentally, at his hands. He stopped and crossed the street. “Hi, Devon. How are you doing? 'Down there', I mean.” Rory glanced at the front of Devon's trousers.

“Couldn't be better. My little run in with you and a couple of days in the hospital changed my life. You got out of the Tiki before the fire I guess?” the healthy man asked.

“Yes, I left the same night you fell down the stairs.”

“Want a drink? I still make the same mojito.”

“Sure. I was just going to go over to the Tiki and see what's left, but I don't think there is enough light left to see much.”

Rory accompanied Devon the the third floor of another Shoreline Drive apartment a block from the Tiki. This building was considerably bigger than the Tiki had been.

“Great view,” Rory said, looking out the picture window facing the bay. “I have the same view but it's only about this wide.” Rory held his fingers a few inches apart. He accepted the drink and sipped. Devon put the pitcher on the floor near the windows.

Devon sipped as well and said that everything was better in this building. Steve, his roommate at the Tiki had moved on he said. “That guy was such a size queen. My new, smaller penis wasn't enough to please him.”

“I'm sorry. That was my fault.”

“Don't be. Sex was all that was keeping us together anyway. And I LOVE my new penis. It doesn't scare people away any more. Here, let me pour you a little more. I have to admit he was a good cook, though. I don't eat as well as I did, but it's been good for my waistline . Feel.” Devon put Rory's hand on his rock hard abdominal muscles and held it there as they sipped their drinks.

He stood closer to Rory as they looked at the lights of the Bay Bridge. “You know, we never got to finish what we started.” Devon slid Rory's hand lower. “And we started something that could have been pretty good.” He slid Rory's hand down onto the bulge in his tight underwear.

“I remember I liked the hair on your chest, those tight curls,” Rory said.

“I got tight curly hair all over the place,” Devon said, unbuckling his belt. “Want to feel?” Devon slid his pants down to his thighs and his hard and still-sizable cock stood out curving slightly upward. Devon stood with his hands on his hips and thrust his pelvis slightly forward.

Rory stepped toward him just as his cell phone rang, vibrating itself off the window ledge and into the mojito pitcher, where it sputtered briefly and died. Devon bent down to get the pitcher. The noise of the electronic death startled Rory who recoiled and grabbed the cord of the window blinds which crashed down as Devon rose up hitting him hard on the head.

Devon shook his head and then laughed, saying, “No broke-dick this time!” but then, hobbled by his lowered pants, he stumbled and fell forward with his drink in one hand and the pitcher in the other. The carpeting was thick enough to cushion his fall, but he had no way to brace himself and the hard landing knocked the wind out of him. He lay prone and silent.

“Devon!” Rory called, kneeling, patting and prodding his host.

Devon lay immobile but talking, “It's not your fault, Rory. I should stick with voodoo. Please leave and if I ever see you again, pretend you don't see me. I'll be fine, but you should go now.”

“I'm sorry, I'm leaving. Devon? The curly hair on your ass is just as nice as on your chest.”

“I believe you are cursed,” Devon rationalized. “Please go.”

When Andrew got home, Rory was sealing the envelope that contained ten dollars and the application form he had downloaded. Andrew smiled and read over Rory's shoulder. “New Mexico Vital Records P.O.Box 26110 Santa Fe, New Mexico. Was your farm near Santa Fe?”

“No, it was in the Mesilla Valley near Las Cruces,” Rory paused as Andrew bent down and kissed his neck and then sniffed.

“Ah-hah, you had a drink,” Andrew said, “What a good idea. Want another one?”

“No, thanks. Are you hungry? There's some Thai in the ice box.”

“Ice box? Are you sure you had electricity on that farm? Indoor plumbing?”

“Yes, to the electricity. Sort of, to the indoor plumbing. In the summer the men would shower outside.”

“What about the winter?” Andrew asked, sipping something clear over ice.

“The family bathed inside. The hands? I guess we didn't usually have any hands in the winter.” Rory jumped a little as Andrew slipped off his shoes and rested his feet in Rory's lap.

Andrew massaged Rory's cock a little with the heel of his foot. “Rory, don't you ever get the urge to just grab me and start making love?”

“No, no, I don't think so.” Rory frowned trying to imagine pouncing on Andrew.

“Well, good, for tonight anyway. I'm half dead. I spent all day being bitchy to people. That can really take it out of you.” Andrew finished his drink and said, “I'm going to bed. Want to come in and talk to me a little?”

“Are you sure you want me to do that if you're going to sleep?”

“Rory, I like being around you. I like it all the time. That's why we live together. So I can be around you.” Andrew kissed him. “Almost all the time.” Andrew kissed him again. “Even when I'm falling asleep.”

“Ok,” said Rory. “I'll be in a a minute.” Rory took Andrew's empty glass into the kitchen and washed it. He put his birth certificate application in the outgoing mailbox in the lobby and then went to see Andrew, who was lying in bed. Rory lay on the cover beside him.

“Tell me about the first time you had sex.” Andrew requested, broadly leering and waggling his eyebrows at Rory.

“My grandfather hired a Mexican family to help with the harvest and after the machine had picked most of the cotton we were in the field getting the rest by hand. Maite, that's short for Maria Teresa, was opposite me going down the row. Every time she would bend forward, I could see her breasts ...”

“No, no! Tell me about real sex. Your first time with a guy. All the details.”

“My first time with two guys was ...”

“No, just your first time, period; not your first time with two guys.”

“That WAS my first time. It was with two guys from my college. We were all commuters at Cal. State Dominguez Hills and one guy Scott lived pretty close. He and his friend Vance invited me to Scott's house in Palos Verdes to swim when we were all three finished with our classes. Vance was a neighbor and they had known each other for a while. So the three of us went to Scott's and it was great. His backyard was about two-thirds of the way up the hill and the pool overlooked Santa Monica Bay. It was like swimming in the clouds.”

“Were you all naked?”

“No, we were swimming in our underwear. Then we climbed out and were lying on the deck. Scott said, 'I'm thirsty. How about the guy with the smallest dick goes in the house and brings back three beers?' And Vance said, 'That's right, pick on the Asian guy. I lose.' Scott laughed, 'Ok, we know I'm bigger than you but how do you know Rory's bigger?' So Vance pulled down his boxers showing a pretty small cock. 'Rory?' Scott said. And so I pulled mine down and had Vance beat by a lot.”

“You do have a nice dick,” Andrew said. “How about letting me see it now?” Rory took his clothes off and lay next to Andrew. “Get under the covers with me, ok, Ror? Mmm, two naked bodies; that feels better. So Vance went for the beers?” Andrew held Rory's cock in his hand, massaging it.

“Yeah, he brought back a six pack and they tasted great. Then Scott who said he was next smallest went and got another. We were enjoying ourselves and feeling the beers a little. I told Scott I needed to piss and he said to just aim it over the cliff out of the wind. I wasn't sure I heard him right so he said, 'Let's show him, Vance.' So the three of us lined up and pissed onto some trees about fifty feet down. We ended up back in the pool naked this time and messed around. Then we lay on the deck again and finished the second six pack. We started wrestling a little and I ended up with my hands behind my back held by Vance. Scott said, 'How about the guy with the middle sized dick sucks the guy with the big dick?' I struggled a little but Vance held me and Scott went down on me.”

Rory stopped talking a Andrew began sucking his cock. “Keep talking, Rory; my mouth is full, not my ears.”

“Mmm. So Scott was a good cocksucker and he got me hard. When Vance realized I wasn't struggling he started playing with my nipples and kissing me. Ooow, Andrew. I came fast and Scott said, 'Shit, so soon?' But Vance said, 'He isn't getting soft, Scottie.' So they both worked on me, sucking my balls and cock and sometimes they would stop and kiss each other. And then Scott asked, 'Ok if I get fucked, baby?' I said, 'Ok with me.' Vance laughed and said, 'I'm the one he's asking, not you, Rory.' So Scott climbed on my dick and pumped his whole body up and down on me. Vance sucked on him until he came in Vance's mouth and then Vance got on top and sat on my dick. 'Got, Scottie, you picked a good one this time,” he said and came really fast onto my chest. He rolled us over so I was on top and said, 'Now fuck me good.' And I guess I did. I came in him and then we all fell sleep in the sun and got burned. My body looked really weird; it was totally red except for where Scott and Vance had their arms and legs on me. You're doing a good job Andrew.”

“Did you go back for more?”

“Yeah, we got together regularly.”

“Did they ever fuck you?”

“I don't think so. They both liked taking it. I think I fucked them every time.”

“What do you mean 'you think'?”

“Well, beer wasn't our only illegal substance. Some of those parties I don't remember real well.”

“Oh, you naughty boys. But they taught you to suck cock?”

“Yes, they taught me that and they were pretty fussy about how I did it.”

“How did Vance like it? Show me.”

Rory demonstrated and Andrew exploded quickly. As he drifted off to sleep, he said “Oh, I forgot. You haven't come yet.”

“That's ok, Andrew. I don't need to every time.”

 

[DonQuixote]

Rory,
Thanks for the installment. Memory lane for "you" is going to be quite arousing for the rest of us, methinks.

At least THIS trip down memory lane, with some "current events", certainly was.

 

[EasyRory]

Session Four

“How was the hypnotist? Did he make you do unspeakable things?”

“Sorry, Bernice. It was just like he said. A relaxed way to answer questions and I remembered everything when it was over.”

“You just think you remember it all. That's what he told you. He didn't tell you about the 'other' parts of the session, the parts that he videotaped.” She pointed both hands and her tongue in a northeasterly direction.

“What does that mean?” asked Engine, looking in the direction Bernice pointed.

“She just does that because it makes her tits look bigger,” explained Cyril.

“Shit,” said Engine, “I'm going gay. It has to be less complicated.” Cyril looked suddenly interested.

“It's Friday, but nobody's going anywhere until we get this comparison routine to run,” Rory said.

“I feeeeeel compellllllled to staaaaay. He's hyyypontizzzed meeeeee,” Bernice groaned. “Ah, here it is,” she said suddenly sober. “You treated zero as negative.”

Engine jumped out of his chair and said, “Show me,” as he leaned toward Bernice's screen. His bulge and her right tit collided.

“Is that a sock stuffed in there or are you bigger than Rory?” Bernice asked in her most lascivious tone.

“Check it out for yourself,” Engine allowed, looking hard at the screen. “Where's that zero?”

Bernice highlighted the zero and nudged her breast into his pants again. “Hmm. Not bad, Engine. Who would have suspected?”

“Ok,” said Engine, back at his own desk and typing furiously. “Recompile. Vroom, vroom.” He squeezed his dick while he watched the compiler turned almost-English into a working program. It ran successfully. “You try it with random values, Cyril. You can fuck anything up.” Despite Cyril's best efforts the routine performed predictably every time.

“Alright, I'm buying,” Rory told them. “Let's go to Chevy's.”

“Isn't he the best boss in the world?” Bernice faked a swoon.

Rory rode in the front of Cyril's car while Bernice and Engine rode in the back for the short drive to Chevy's. Cyril's eyes got wide; he was constantly checking the rearview mirror.

“Eyes on the road, Cyril,” Bernice ordered.

Rory looked in the back seat and saw Bernice rubbing a very large bulge in Engine's pants. Engine just winked and smiled.

“You two go in and get the table. We'll be right behind you,” Bernice said.

“Four?” asked the waitress. “This way.”

“Can we sit near the tortilla machine?” Cyril asked. “I love to watch it.”

While Cyril and Rory waited for the pitcher and glasses, they watched the beautifully polished, glass-encased mechanism almost the size of a small station wagon turn flour and water into tortillas. Rory remembered the distinctive clapping of Mexican workers on the farm forming the dough by slapping it from the palm of one hand to the other. After a few minutes, Laurie, their waitress, brought the pitcher and four salted glasses along with a bowl of nachos and some salsa dip.

“Here you are. Are you two cuties still waiting for your friends?” Laurie asked. Cyril blushed and Rory told her they were still waiting. “Let me know if you want to meet some new ones,” Laurie said, smiling and moving to another table.

When Cyril was about half way through his first drink Engine came in alone. He sat down in silence and poured himself a drink. “Here's to shit,” he said raising his glass in a toast. He downed most of it in one swallow and then drained the rest. “Vroom, vroom,” he said watching more liquid pour from the pitcher into his glass.

Cyril excused himself and headed for the men's room. “Where's Bernice?” Rory asked.

“Every thing was great,” Engine said. “She was playing with me all the way over here and I was about to pop my buttons. Then she got my cock out to suck it and I went completely limp. She did her damnedest and – nothing. I tried and – nothing. She got out of the car and some other Goth guy in the parking lot drove her away.” Engine emptied another glass.

“Sorry, Engine. Maybe the backseat just wasn't the right place.”

“Has that ever happened to you?” Poor Engine sounded desperate, looking for a soothing 'Don't worry; it happens to everybody.'

“No, never. I'm totally reliable,” Rory said.

Cyril returned to the table, looked at his companions, and asked, “Why's everybody down?”

“Engine got his chance with Bernice and couldn't get an erection,” Rory explained.

“Jeez, tell the whole world,” Engine groused.

“Sorry, Engine. It happens to everybody,” Cyril said.

“When has it happened to you?” Engine asked evenly, and then finished his drink.

“Well, never, actually,” Cyril admitted.

“Why me then?” Engine was starting to pity himself.

“You didn't let me finish. I've never had a chance to try anything but a blow job.”

“That's what she was trying! And I couldn't do a thing!”

“No, I mean I've given some blowjobs,” Cyril took a quick look at Rory. “I've never actually got one. So I don't know if my dick works or not.”

“Fuck,” said Engine, “there is somebody worse off than me.” He signaled the waitress for another pitcher.

“There are lots of people worse off than you, Engine. I don't know any, but there are whole streets in Oakland that ...”

“Rory, forget about Oakland. I'm not on heroin; I just couldn't get it up today.”

Cyril was matching Engine drink for drink. “I bet your dick will work fine tomorrow, Engine, VROOM, VROOM! I think that tortilla machine is getting me hard.” He drained another glass. It was the most excitement either Rory or Engine had ever witnessed from Cyril.

“How do you fuck a tortilla machine?” Engine asked giggling.

“VERY carefully,” Cyril answered and they both burst out laughing.

Rory decided it was time to leave. He proposed, “I'm calling it a night. Cyril, how about if I drive you home in your car?” So they left the restaurant. Rory took the keys and sat in the car. Engine sat in the other front seat and Cyril, who couldn't get into the back sat in his lap.

Cyril gave directions and soon they arrived at an amazingly small house. It couldn't have been more than three rooms total. “That's it. Wanna come in?” Cyril said to Rory.

“No thanks. I'm going home myself.”

“Wanna come in?” Cyril said to Engine.

“Yeah, I will; don't think I could make it to El Cerrito,” Engine correctly diagnosed.

Meanwhile Andrew was walking back from Eric's house. Despite a bit of abuse, Eric was a good client and was becoming a trusted friend. His suggestion for curing Rory's disengagement was a good one, or at least a reasonable one. We need something to do together, Andrew thought, a shared interest in something other than Rory's dick. Such a nice dick, though. When Rory is fucking me, I have his full attention; if only he could be a little more spontaneous; if only I didn't have to do all the work, Andrew mused. Except the fucking, of course; nobody has ever fucked me like Rory and he does it flawlessly every time. Just the way he sticks it in drives me crazy ... Andrew walked into his house and adjusted his semi-hard cock, feeling a wetness on his pants. Fuck, thought Andrew; even thinking about Rory could be embarrassing.

He showered and stood looking at himself in the full length mirror on the bathroom door. Not too bad, he decided. Everybody probably wants a bigger dick, but I'm ok in the size department. That circumcision is kind of half-assed, leaving me half a foreskin; it's like my cock is wearing a turtleneck. Well, at least it's not hard to keep clean.

He heard Rory come in the door and quickly wrapped a towel around his waist and headed for their bedroom. Rory stood at the dresser, emptying his pockets. “A small triumph at work today,” Rory commented.

“Great, let's celebrate. Want to go to a movie?” Andrew suggested.

“You know that's a good idea.” Remembering of his father's open kiss for his mother and feeling a bit of Margarita buzz, Rory took Andrew into his arms and gave him a major kiss, bending the slightly shorter man backward in the fashion of movie drama.

“Well, I'll be fucked!” Andrew sighed, amazed, a little dazed, and out of breath.

“Ok,” said Rory, peeling off Andrew's towel and pushing him backward onto the bed.

“Rory …. mmmfffgh,” Andrew was silenced by Rory's kiss. “Mmmm, we can go to the second feature.”

When the sex was over, Rory was as surprised by Andrew's reaction as Andrew had been by Rory's initiative. One kiss and a quick fuck seemed to produce an outpouring of emotion from Andrew. Andrew picked out some clothes for Rory to wear and then fastened a very thin silver chain around his neck. He had planned to give the chain to a client, but the client could wait. “Happy Birthday,” he said.

“But my birthday's in August.”

“It's for last August,” Andrew said.

“You didn't know me last August,” Rory protested.

“It's 'cause I love you, Rory.”

“Oh,” Rory said, somewhat mystified.

Here we go again, thought Andrew, one step at a time; but the fuck was dreamy sweet.

The Lake Merritt was showing a Marilyn Monroe retrospective and they went to see 'Niagara', a noir mystery that mostly eluded Rory, but the very fabulous Marilyn made an impression. Rory was humming the song Marilyn sang in the movie as they got into Andrew's car.

“All she wanted was to be loved,” Rory said.

“Well, yes, Marilyn Monroe was a genius at giving that impression. It didn't really fit the plot here, but that was her appeal. She made every man think he had a chance,” Andrew explained.

“Want to see 'River of No Return' next week?” Rory asked.

“Sure,” said Andrew. Eric was so right, he thought; all Rory and I needed was a common interest.

 

[EasyRory]

Session Five

“You will wake up when I reach one. Three, two, one. There. Does it help knowing how your father died?”

“No, I never felt deserted by him. The truck accident wasn't suicide; he never meant to leave us. What helps was remembering how much he enjoyed me and Mom and all the family.”

“Obviously he was a loving man and he let it show. Why do you think it was different with your Uncle Phil?”

“I don't know. Maybe Uncle Phil was jealous of how much everybody liked my father. They didn't all like Uncle Phil, not nearly as much. By the way, Doctor, I have applied for a birth certificate, but it hasn't come from Santa Fe yet.”

Rory went back to work, expecting to find blood on the floor. Monday morning had started it. Cyril and Engine were already there hard at work when Rory arrived. Everybody said hello normally and got to work. Rory noticed a smile pass between Cyril and Engine from time to time, but all was quiet until Beatrice arrived. Beatrice got off a few digs at Engine, blatantly referring to his potency problem, but he ignored her, which only made her more annoyed.

Finally he said, “What's the matter, Bernice? Couldn't your Goth friend get it up either?” He touched a nerve. Bernice visibly recoiled. “That's it, isn't it! Bernice the Boner-Killer! Nobody can get it up with you.”

Tuesday things got worse and Wednesday it was undeclared war. Rory left a seething Bernice and a hurt Engine in the office when he left for his appointment with Dr. Davis; but when he got back, expecting the worst, things were peaceful. Andrew was sitting in his chair reading Women's Wear Daily. He was wearing Armani and looked very downtown.

“Rory, I'm so sorry I can't go to the movie with you tonight. I have to be at a night time shoot in the city. I'd ditch it but it's Eric and Z with Maddie and Tanyeli, the hotties from L.A.”

“That's ok, Andrew. I'll see you when I see you.”

Andrew passed out his business cards. “Ok, final advice for Rory's chickadees. Cyril: you're not handsome, but you can radiate a happy, healthy look and you probably have more in your pants than you let show. I have work for you; call me if you want it.

“Engine, two words: Accutane and diet. There's no reason these days to put up with acne. Go to a dermatologist, then drop ten pounds and you'll look fantastic. Maybe pay a little more for your haircut. I can work with you.

“Bernice, you have a great body hidden under that Halloween costume. Shorter, lighter hair and a V-neck ruffled blouse. Check out page 73 of this magazine; you could look even better than the model. Guys will faint when you walk by. I will be back to check on progress in a month. Bye all, do not let Rory abuse you.” With that he left and chaos ensued.

“That's your roommate? Wow!” Bernice said.

“How did he know about my dick?” Cyril wanted to know.

“Well, it is pretty big, dude; vroom, vroom,” Engine said.

“How the hell do you know how big it is?” Bernice asked.

“Bernice!” Cyril jumped as she checked him out.

“Where is a dermatologist? Rory, where do you get your hair cut?” Engine asked.

“I bet there isn't a ruffled blouse in all of Emeryville,” Bernice pondered.

Cyril tried walking with his pelvis more thrust forward.

“Ok, guys,” Rory called for attention. “Andrew represents models and he knows what he's talking about. I happen to like you the way you are, but he gets paid to give people advice like this and if you take his advice it wouldn't hurt. Now, before the day is over, can we work out the matrix inversion problem? You can get gorgeous on your own time.”

When the day was over Rory asked Engine if he would drop him off in Oakland at the freeway entrance. “Be glad to, Rory, where are you going?”

“Lake Merritt, the Grand Lake Theatre. There's an old movie I want to see.”

“You want company? I haven't got anything to do.”

“Sure. Can you handle an old cowboy movie?”

They arrived early and took a walk around the lake. Engine allowed that Andrew's advice about joining a gym was good and the fact he was a little winded from walking at Rory's pace proved it. Rory answered that Andrew had lots of advice for people and Engine should take it or leave it as he saw fit.

“I don't want to get nosy, Rory, but is he your boy friend?”

“Kind of. He's more into the feeling than I am.”

“Cyril told me that you and he … he Cyril, that is … that you and he … um.”

“Cyril has sucked my dick a few times.”

“Yes. That's what I wanted to say.”

They walked in silence for a while and then turned around in time to make the feature.

“Ok, I'll just come out and say it,” Engine announced, but then he didn't say anything.

Rory kept walking and replied, “Say whatever you want, Engine.”

“Ok, Cyril and I spent all last weekend sucking each other off.”

“It took that long for you to come?” Rory asked.

“No, I mean we did it a lot all weekend long. And I liked it. Cyril was good at it right from the first time and by Sunday night he said I was pretty good, too.”

“Good for you, I guess. Did you enjoy it?”

“Rory, I never had sex like that before.”

“Yeah, I know. I started out with girls, too.”

“No, I mean I never had sex that great before. And I wanted to do more. You know, try other stuff. But Cyril says he doesn't want to get into fucking. So I don't know exactly what to do.”

“Two tickets for the festival feature, please,” Rory told the guy in the window.

“What should I do?” Engine continued as they walked through the lobby.

“Do what Cyril wants. Maybe he'll change his mind about the fucking.”

“No, Cyril and I were a one time thing. How would I find somebody else?”

“When somebody asks, say yes. They're always asking.”

“Asking you, maybe. You want some Raisinets?”

“Remember about the ten pounds you're planning to lose, Engine.”

After the movie Rory was again in the wistful mood that Niagara had produced. “Isn't she amazing?”

Engine was less affected but liked that fact Marilyn could play the guitar. He stopped in front of Rory's house. “So how am I going to get myself laid?” Engine repeated.

“If you were as sexy as Marilyn and wanted it as much, I'd do it,” Rory said still lost in the Monroe spell. He got out of the car and walked to his door. He found Engine at his side. “What? You want a drink?”

“I want it a lot, Rory.”

“Ok, I'll get you a lot to drink.”

“No,” Engine was getting exasperated. “I want to get fucked a lot. I want you to do it. Please.”

“Engine, I'm kinda big. I might not be the best guy to be your first.”

“If I go screaming out the door, we can say you warned me.” Engine was opening his shirt.

“Ok, take your clothes off and get on all fours on the bed.”

Rory was generous with the lube and started on Engine using one finger, then two. Engine's main reaction was very deep, deliberate breathing with an occasional whimper. Then Rory pushed his cock in, slowly but relentlessly. With the overwhelming physical sensation, Engine's arms gave out and his face hit the mattress, leaving his butt in the air perfectly set up for penetration. Engine would gasp with every stroke and Rory was giving him long strokes, all the way in and all the way out. First he squeezed his ass tight, his reflexes resisting the intrusion; but he couldn't or maybe wouldn't complain. Rory applied more lube and that helped. Eventually he relaxed and welcomed the thrusts; the gasps turned to sighs. Then Engine groaned, “Oh man, am I ever getting fucked.” Rory felt Engine abandon the last bit of resistance; he was pushing back welcoming every stroke. “Oooooww,” he was almost singing. And then Rory pulled out.

“No! Don't stop! Put it back in me!” Engine begged.

“Roll over and I will,” Rory said and Rory was a man who kept his promises.

“Oh Jeez, it's bigger this way. Oh my God. Oh, go slow. Fuck, no, don't pull out. Yes. That's right. Don't stop!” Engine was feeling the deeper penetration. Rory pumped until Engine was back to cooing with every thrust. Then he took Engine's dripping cock in his hand and with just two strokes Engine came massively, his body heaved as he blew semen onto himself. In a couple more thrusts Rory came, slamming into Engine, jarring his body with every thrust and forcing it up the bed as he emptied into Engine. Rory slowed, then stopped and slowly withdrew his cock.

“Oh! Fuck! I feel so empty now.” Engine smiled and wiped tears off his face. Rory came back to the bed and wiped Engine's chest and stomach. “Will you hold me for a minute?”

Rory lay next to Engine and cradled him in his arms. Engine laughed and cried at the same time. He kissed Rory on the cheek and felt Rory's engorged but no longer erect cock. “Wow,” was all he could say.

“I warned you.”

“But you didn't say how it was going to end.” Engine kissed Rory's cheek again and then his neck. He sighed and fell asleep. Rory didn't like sleeping with strangers. He took a blanket to the living room and slept on a couch.

Andrew arrived and wondered why Rory was sleeping in the living room. The sweetie must have waited up for me, he thought. He kissed the sleeping man and went into the bedroom. “Well, what have we here?” It was too dark for Andrew to recognize Engine; he undressed and climbed in, spooning up against Engine and awakening him.

“Do it,” Engine said and Andrew complied. Half way through Engine realized this smaller cock belonged to someone else. “What the fuck?” he said in surprise, as Andrew reached around and stroked his cock.

Andrew never stopped pumping or stroking, “Hi, I'm Andrew. And you are … ?”

“Coming! I'm coming! Unngh! Yes! Fuck me! Oh!” Andrew came, too, and all ended well. “Whew! You want to know who I am?” Engine gasped.

“Mmmm. I'll check your ID in the morning. Let's go to sleep.”

“Vroom, vroom.”

 

[seanystarr]

nice one - you have got me hooked on this story already...

engine sounds really horny...vroom vroom!

 

[DonQuixote]

Rory,
I am so chagrined. I somehow missed your post the other day.
I've been looking, but my "new post" bolds weren't always working the past few days.

A great double header. Especially for Engine, lol. Then, again, that was damned near a triple. And I'm sure it was two home runs as far as he was concerned.

I guess it's a good thing that Andrew is pretty easy going and there wasn't a problem w/ Rory bringing Engine into their bed.

At least not for Andrew - he seems pretty ready to fuck whomever and sleep with whomever, as opposed to Rory, who may have fucked him, but wasn't comfortable sleeping with him.

It's been a long week, and I've been tired. This was a great pick me up this morning.

Things at the office (Rory's) have been a bit strained since the "not-with-you" non-performance in chapter 4. And the weekend of head that ensued, hombre a hombre.

Thanks, again, for your continued efforts. Sorry I'm so delayed in getting back to you on chapter 4.

 

[EasyRory]

Session Six

Andrew carefully extricated himself from the arms of the sleeping Engine and noted it was six in the morning. He showered dressed and walking into the living room. He gently kissed the sleeping Rory.

“Hmm. Oh, Andrew. Good morning. Is Engine still here?”

“Somebody's sleeping in my bed, maybe that's Engine. Mmmm.” He kissed Rory some more.

“Where did you sleep?”

“With Engine. Did we both fuck him? He's not bad.”

Rory stretched his arms and said, “I guess we did. He said I was his first. That makes you his second.”

The blanket slipped down and showed off a lot of Rory. Andrew stared raptly at the body of his slowly waking boy friend. Aware of the gaze, Rory said, “What?”

“Are you sure you don't want to model? I could get you work.”

“No thanks. I like programming; it's predictable.”

“So's your cock.” Andrew knelt and sucked the rigid member as Rory tried to get up.

“Stop, I have to piss.”

“That would be messy. Ok, see you tonight. I'll be home early.”

Rory took care of morning bathroom stuff and went into the bedroom. Engine looked up from the bed but didn't say anything. He quickly pulled on a pair of sweat pants and a shirt and sat for socks and shoes. “You want to go for a run?” Rory asked.

“What time is it?” Engine started to get up but was embarrassed by his morning erection and pulled the covers back over himself.

“About six-thirty. Come on. You can wear Andrew's clothes; he's your size.”

Rory ran down Shoreline Drive and for a while Engine raced to keep up. Engine had no trouble keeping up Andrew's running clothes which were more than snug but he couldn't keep up the pace. Rory ran ahead and doubled back at the end of the beach. He caught up with Engine about half way and called out, “Go back when you're ready. I'll leave the door open.”

Rory was taking a shower when an out of breath Engine climbed in with him. “Ok to join you? I'm dripping sweat all over the place.”

The two tended to the business of washing for about fifteen seconds and in another fifteen seconds Rory's soapy cock slid cleanly into Engine's soapy ass. Engine spread his legs to keep his balance and held on to the towel rack for dear life as Rory nailed him again and again with the steady pounding of a pneumatic hammer. When he was done he offered to suck Engine off, but Engine declined.

“I don't think I could walk if you did,” Engine said. “No, that's not true,” he reconsidered. “I could walk but I wouldn't remember the feel of your cock in me so well. And I don't want to forget that anytime soon.”

They dressed and left for work, grabbing a bun and coffee along the way. Engine's only reference to the night was when he asked if there would be any difficulties with Andrew over the sex.

“No,” Rory said, “Andrew doesn't think like that. Besides, he fucked you, too.” He finished the bun and explained. “Andrew believes in what he calls Einstein's General Theory of Fidelity. He believes that male entities behave in generally faithful ways but that there are quantum exceptions which are inevitable but immaterial and do not disturb the usefulness of the general condition. He says overconcern with rigid strictures is an anode chick phenomenon. Guys are cathodes.”

Engine saw the appeal of that explanation. “Andrew's a genius. If he had a bigger dick, he could rule the world.”

“Engine, are you sold on the bigger is better idea?” Rory asked.

“Yeah, it feels that way.” Engine squirmed in his seat. “Vroom and all.”

They were the first to arrive, which saved any questions about where they had been together. Bernice and Cyril arrived together which didn't raise any questions so Bernice answered them anyway. “I got laid last night,” she gloated to Engine in a stage whisper.

“So did I,” Engine answered simply, taking the wind out of her sails.

She looked at him skeptically and then saw the glow. “It's not fair.”

Rory decided to kill the chatter early in the day. “How fair would it be if I gave Friday off? Provided we finish the program by tonight.” The three of them cheered. “That includes QA and documentation.” They booed, but they worked diligently while Rory made a couple of phone calls. The high fives came just before eight in the evening. Cyril and Bernice headed out and Engine lingered, hoping for something.

“Engine, go home and get cleaned up to impress somebody and come to my house for dinner about nine.”

Andrew and Rory didn't exactly kill themselves entertaining, but that wasn't the idea. A couple of drinks and a bit to eat served to introduce Engine to Devon. Engine's eyes popped when he saw Devon's bulge. You should have seen it before, Rory thought. The meeting was a success and Devon offered to show Engine his view of the city. Rory and Andrew had things cleaned up and then looked at each other.

“That was a good match, I think,” Andrew said putting the last glass away. “And it keeps things from getting messy with Engine.”

“You think we're a good match?” Rory asked putting his arms around Andrew.

Andrew's eyes lit up and he melted in Rory's arms. First, the fuck before the movie and now this, he thought. What's getting into Rory? Rory's gentle and then urgent kisses put different thoughts in Andrew's head.

After the sex Rory asked if Andrew wanted to go to a movie and a Marilyn Monroe look-alike contest in North Beach the next night. “Sorry, I have to work. Besides, it'll just be a bunch of old drag queens who will look completely like a bunch of old drag queens and nothing like Marilyn. Go if you want. It could be laughs.” Andrew was flippant, but Rory was disappointed. Ok, he thought; I will go alone.

He went for his morning run as Andrew left for his day. He saw Devon and Engine across the street. Engine was looking down at the sidewalk and talking; but Devon spotted Rory, gave him a big smile, and blew him a kiss before he and Engine went into Devon's building.

Rory spent the day studying an old and odd computer language originally called MUMPS; he could not fathom its appeal. He could not understand why Congress once mandated its use in certain medical programs nor why it survived. It was a prime example of the common programming excuse 'it's all we know how to do.'

In the late afternoon a large bouquet of flowers came. The card said 'Rory, you're not cursed; you're an angel. Devon.' Rory considered his dealings with Devon according to the principles of transactional analysis that Dr. Davis told him about. Things that seemed to work so naturally in leadership situations at work also seemed effective with people in general.

While waiting in line for the movie Rory talked to a couple of fellow fans of Monroe movies. One of them had brought a change of clothes and planned to enter the contest. The contestant and his boy friend were queers of a flaming variety seldom seen in Alameda and Rory was entertained by their brittle, quick humor. “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes” was an enjoyable, frothy musical in which Marilyn looked great, although her sultry appeal was masked to some extent by the comedy and music.

When the contest began, Rory thought Andrew's prediction was right: a long procession of unappealing drag queens. Then a very remarkable woman appeared. She wasn't the image of Marilyn, but she conveyed the aura of a shimmering blond with a voluptuous body and a heartbreaking vulnerability. She was billed Istanbulla. To Rory's astonishment she lost the contest to a grotesque horror who was loved by the crowd for a display of sleaze and smut. The evening should have been over but the burlesque showed no sign of ending. Rory left and was planning to walk to the Bart station at Montgomery Street when he met Istanbulla walking the same way.

“I thought you should have won,” he said.

“Thanks, that's sweet of you,” she said.

“Would you like to stop for something to eat or drink?” Rory invited. Istanbulla countered with an invitation to her apartment in a miscellaneous neighborhood off Green Street. It was a pleasant enough night and the sex was slow and easy. When Rory awoke at his usual six-thirty, Istanbulla suggested that he leave something on the dresser and went back to sleep. She didn't state an amount so Rory left her what he had which was sixty-seven dollars. He kept his BART fare card and enough for the Alameda bus.

When he got home Andrew met him at the door. “Rory, you look like shit,” he said giving him a kiss. “And you smell like PUSSY!” Andrew, who had been so unconcerned with Engine, was agitated by this and wasn't very good at hiding it.

“I went to the Marilyn look-alike contest,” Rory said. Something about Andrew was annoying.

“Jeez, why can't you just buy a dress and a blonde wig?” Andrew agonized.

“I don't want to look like Marilyn; I want to fuck Marilyn.” Rory went into the bathroom.

“She's dead, Rory! Dead before you were born. You can't fuck her!” Andrew yelled over the noise of the shower.

Rory stuck his head out the door and said, “I fucked the next best thing.”

Andrew was distraught; he felt like a fist was squeezing his chest. Damn it, he thought, why did I let myself fall in love with him? He felt tears coming. No, he told himself, no crying, none of that; but I can't give him up. He tried to busy himself tidying up the kitchen and all he could see was an empty bed.

Rory came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist. Andrew knew he normally would have walked naked to their room. What'll I tell him? Rory came out dressed in running clothes and poured himself an orange juice.

“I'm sorry. None of my business who you fuck,” Andrew said and knew the way he said it didn't sound right. He had made it an accusation. Rory looked at him steadily without saying anything. Andrew went up and kissed his cheek hoping for a hug back. He got a hand on the shoulder instead.

“I'm going for a run; be back in an hour or so,” Rory said and left.

Andrew went to talk to Eric, but Eric was out Z told him. “What's wrong, Andrew? You look like you lost a friend.”

“It's Rory,” Andrew said and explained the morning to Z. “I know he doesn't feel about me the way I feel about him, but he's been so great to live with and I was hoping that eventually … “

“All I can tell you is what Eric did with me while I was being an idiot. He was very patient. He never pushed. And he showed me how beautiful a man's love is. Meanwhile I figured out that I really was gay and that I loved him back. It took a long time but he never gave up. Give him time, Andrew, and a some room to roam. Eric waited for almost nine months when I went to Italy.”

Rory got back from his run, changed, and went to his appointment with Dr. Davis. It was harder to get comfortable during morning appointments; the afternoon was better Rory decided. Nevertheless the beauty of hypnosis was that the local time didn't matter once Rory was in his memories.

He told Dr. Davis how withdrawn his mother had become after his father died; how impatient she was with him and with farm life. His grandparents also withdrew to avoid provoking her. Phil finished school and rarely left the farm. Rory sometimes had the children of the Mexican field workers to play with but most of the time he was working as much as a six or seven year-old could or he was on his own with only Whip as a friend. It was better when he went to school, but it was a small rural school. The Anglo children were scattered all over the valley and he rarely saw them outside of school; the Mexican children were too transient to get to know. Sometimes he could make his grandmother smile and sometimes, when he got a bit older, Uncle Phil would take him to the river fishing. It was a lonely childhood, but Rory didn't know anything different and so it seemed normal.

Sometime after he was ten, his mother went to Dallas for a temporary job. She talked about having him visit her, but she never did more than talk about it. She never came back and after a few years her phone calls stopped. At some point, Rory wasn't sure when, his grandfather said she had remarried and then he never spoke of her again.

During this session, Rory realized that his mother had been pretty at the time of his father's death but her looks hardened over a few years and grim looking was what you would call her in his final memories. He couldn't decide if her looks had physically changed or if she just neglected her appearance.

“Can you see what a powerful personality your father was? The loss of him, the loss of his love hurt everybody in the family and they couldn't find a way to help each other or help themselves. Do you think your father is someone you want to imitate?” Dr. Davis asked.

“Yes, but it isn't easy. Every time I do something for someone, I have to think it out. I have to plan it. My father just did things automatically.”

“Do you feel rewarded when you are generous? Can get pleasure from giving pleasure?”

“Yes, it's rare; but it's amazing when it happens.”

“Practice. Just like learning to play music or write computer code, it gets easier when you practice.”

 

[EasyRory]

Session Seven

Istanbulla returned from the bathroom, having completed whatever is it women do in the bathroom after sex, and lay down on the bed. Rory was lying naked and prone, with his arms wrapped around the pillow under his head. His eyes were closed as Izzie traced the muscles in his back working from his neck gradually lower.

“What a cute little fuzzy butt,” she said; she pronounced 'fuzzy butt' as one word. “You want to try it with a strap-on?”

Rory laughed at the thought and said, “No, thanks.”

“It's not that bad, you know. I kind of enjoy it; I get to see how you like penetration and the thing is built so that it rubs my clit while it's fucking you. You sure you don't want to try? Some guys really like it.”

“I probably can't afford it,” Rory joked.

“Aw, sweetie, I'm not charging you. You took me to that contest in Colma and we won. Finally. You're my good luck charm. Plus it's not work being with you.” Rory rolled onto his side and his cock sprang out. “See. You're always hard. I don't have to spend a half-hour getting you up - like with some guys.”

“Why do you enter all these contests, Izzie?” Rory asked. He pulled her toward him so that his cockhead was tickled by her closely-trimmed pubic hair. “Mmmmm,” he said pushing harder against her. She raised a leg, letting him tease her more, pushing into her slickness.

“See how wet you get me? I'm not faking that.”

“What about the contests?” Rory persisted.

“I'm tired of being a hooker and, to tell you the truth, I've only got a couple of years of good money left. I want to be a fag hag. Oooow, a little higher, baby. That's right. By the way, if you weren't so cute, I'd be pissed about that sixty-seven dollars. I get way more than that.”

“It was all I had on me. A fag hag? How is that profitable?”

“I plan to open a bar and cultivate a gay clientele that will appreciate the Marilyn resemblance. You take me to these gay contests and the guys, the regulars, are getting to know me. I'll have a built in audience when I get my own place.”

“And I get to fuck Marilyn. Maybe I'm getting the better deal.” Rory climbed on top of her, putting his weight on his elbows. He nuzzled her neck.

“No, I'm getting the better deal,” Izzie said. “You could work in the bar, if you wanted. Guys would flock to see you in a tight t-shirt and torn jeans. We could work out a deal.” She wrapped her legs around him and relaxed, letting Rory do the work.

Andrew sat alone at home waiting. There was a knock on the door. “Engine, come in. You're looking good.” Engine did a slow turn as Andrew commented, “You lost weight … much better hair cut … what else was wrong?” Andrew noticed Engine's t-shirt said 'I Work for the World's Best Boss'.

“Complexion; I've been going to a dermatologist.”

“Worth every dollar. You look great. The World's Best Boss isn't here, though. You want a drink? I could use one.”

“Anything but a mojito, please.” Engine said.

Andrew returned with two beers and sat next to Engine on a sofa facing a fireplace. “I came to see Rory,” Engine said, “but really I just wanted to talk to somebody with more experience than I have with boy friends. I've only had one.”

“That leaves me out. I've had lots of one- or two-nighters, but Rory is my only long-term guy and I think he's in the process of dumping me.”

“Oh, no. No, he isn't, Andrew. He respects you enormously.”

“Ah, respect maybe, but I'm looking for something more personal than that. But to hell with me, what's your problem.”

“Telling my family I'm living with a black man. I don't think there a single word in that sentence they would go for. They don't want to know much of anything. They definitely don't want to know I'm living with a guy. And they for sure won't understand the black part.”

“Are you happy with – what's his name?” Engine supplied the name. “ … with Devon?”

“Oh yeah. Vroom. First I thought it was just sex, but he's really amazing. A much classier guy than I am. I'm surprised he wants me around.”

“Do you see your family regularly? How often?”

“Well, until a couple of weeks ago, I lived at home, so I saw them every day. So now I see them a couple times a week and call a couple of other times.”

“Are they dependent on you for anything? Money? Help around the house?”

“No, nothing. In fact, some times when I call I think I'm bothering them; we're not a close emotional type of family.”

“Hmm.” Andrew looked up at the ceiling. “Let me think about this.” He got up and paced, thinking out loud. “Nice biracial gay couple living in Alameda. What does Devon do?” Engine explained. “Ok, one's a button-down financial district type, the other's an East Bay techie. They live in a beautiful location for not a lot of money and it's not crystal clear whether they're gay or not.”

“Oh, it's clear, Andrew. It's real clear.”

“But it won't be in the newspaper article, my little chickadee. It will be there if you want to see it, just like the race thing. It'll be there, but never mentioned.”

“What newspaper article?” Engine asked and Andrew explained his idea.

“It will sort of ease your family problem and kill about a dozen other birds with the same stone. If Devon goes along, of course.”

Andrew walked Engine to the door just as Rory walked in, looking exhausted. “Man, I have to think about getting a car. Public transportation at this time of night sucks.” He wagged his finger at Engine. “I told you to quit wearing that shirt.” He smiled and ran his finger down Engine's chest with familiar affection. He turned to Andrew and swept the smaller man off his feet like an Antebellum belle.

“Rory, put me down,” Andrew demanded, blushing, a very rare thing for Andrew.

“Not 'til you kiss me, Scarlett.” Rory gave him a big kiss and put him down. He headed for the bedroom. “I'm dead tired. See you, Engine.”

Andrew was flustered and told Engine, “Getting him interested in old movies was a huge mistake.”

Engine was wide-eyed with discovery. “You really love him. I've never seen a guy light up like you, except maybe my dad when the Raiders score. That's so cool. Devon and I aren't like that. We're just having fun.”

“Which is exactly what we want to portray in the newspaper article.” Andrew closed the door and went into the bedroom.

He stripped and pulled the sheet down. He got into bed carefully, not sure if Rory was asleep yet, and looked at his lover. “What a cute little fuzzy butt,” he commented, drawing out each word; he spoke quietly so Rory could hear if he was awake or not if he was sleeping.

“My fuzzy butt is getting cold,” Rory said without moving. Andrew covered them up and Rory snuggled next to him, holding him close. At first Andrew was slightly uncomfortable in the tight embrace, but he got used to it. He woke about an hour later and Rory was sound asleep, still holding him. This time his lover's embrace felt perfect. He sort of loves me, Andrew decided; that's a step. And he doesn't smell of pussy. He must be taking showers at her place, damn him. Andrew went back to sleep.

Juice and coffee were ready on the table. Andrew never knew how hungry Rory would be in the morning. He called his friend at the Oakland Tribune. “You know how you guys are always trying to portray East Bay as a cool area for young people?” Next he called a photographer whose work he admired. “Just make them look cool. Let your pictures show the racial angle and give only a hint of a gay relationship.” He hung up the phone as Rory came into the kitchen wearing a bathrobe.

“We could go for a run on the beach,” Rory proposed. “Or we could go for a run around the bedroom. Your choice.”

“What would we do after you catch me?” Andrew asked as if seriously considering alternatives.

“Your choice. Maybe you'd be interested in a little fuzzy butt.” Rory suggested. “You know, a little variety.”

“What if we went for a run on the beach and then a run around the bedroom?” Andrew countered.

“AND instead of OR. Very Boolean; I approve.”

The chill morning air at bayside made a leisurely pace on beach run a bad idea. They ran at a good speed as much to keep warm as to work out. Kissing began right at the front door when they got home and a trail of clothes marked the way to the bedroom. I need to be very generous with the lube, Andrew thought; I don't want to hurt him. He greased Rory's hole, slathered his own cock and then moved to apply more to Rory.

“It's an asshole, not a Buick,” Rory reminded him.

It was a squishy mess, but Andrew loved their intimacy and came quickly and then Rory took over.

“Rory, after I come, I , er … I'm not sure if I can take it.” Andrew's doubt arose from other, earlier experiences, painful, hook up-killing experiences.

“You don't have to. We'll just have a little fun. I'm not in any hurry.” Rory kissed Andrew's nipples. “I have all day.” Rory's roaming hands explored Andrew thoroughly. “I'm just here for you.” Andrew spread his legs as Rory kissed his thighs. Andrew relaxed not knowing what Rory would do next, but confident he could stop anything painful.

“Your butt isn't fuzzy at all,” Rory said, “Just a little hair right here.” Rory licked Andrew's asshole and probed with his tongue. Then he gently stroked Andrew's still slick cock, feeling the blood concentrate without causing a real erection. He kept his eyes open and repeatedly kissed Andrew, watching his responses.

Andrew looked back in wonder. “Beautiful green eyes,” he sighed and pulled Rory close, hiding from his gaze. “You can fuck me,” he whispered. “I want to make you come, baby. I don't care if it hurts.”

It didn't hurt; it felt as if they shared one body during Rory's orgasm. “I thought I needed drugs to feel that close to somebody,” Andrew said in wonder.

When it was over Rory told Andrew, “You should fuck me more. You obviously like it … “ Andrew interrupted him with a kiss. “ … and it's something I can do just for you.”

Andrew's heart almost exploded. What's got into him, he wondered. Remember Z's advice, he told himself. Don't pressure; don't push too hard. “Does getting fucked feel good to you?”

“Mmm, not so much; but it doesn't hurt and it's fun watching you.”

“Maybe more practice will help.”

They dressed and Andrew told Rory about his plans for Engine and Devon. “Why are you doing that, Andrew? You won't get anything out of it and you told me working for fun is called a hobby.”

“I won't get anything directly; but I'll have the Tribune owing me and Chris the photographer owing me. There will come a time when I can collect. But mostly it will help Engine and a happy Engine will make the World's Best Boss happy.”

“And me being the World's Best Fucked Boss makes you happy?”

“Oh yeah. You made me very happy We can practice some more if you want.”

That's what Dr. Davis said, Rory thought; Practice. And I didn't even have to try very hard.

 

[DonQuixote]

Rory,
A Monday afternoon double header!
Great development.

I'm a bit worried about Rory and Izzie, and how it will affect Rory and Andrew.
It sounds a bit as though Rory is redefining he and Andrew's relationship - becoming the bottom to Andrew's top, although I guess he did play both roles in their intimacy.

Although, at the end, he does seem to be getting closer - I'm not sure if his calculation of not having to try very hard is a good thing or not. Sometimes you only appreciate those things that you do have to work for.

 

[rocabar]

Squee!!! Love yr. new story, ER!

 

[EasyRory]

I posted Session Eight and there was a huge error in it. I'll fix it and repost. Sorry for the delay.

 

[EasyRory]

Session Eight

Andrew woke up alone with light streaming from the little sun porch off the bedroom. His eyes widened as he realized someone was standing on the porch looking toward the bay. The shock of fear came over Andrew as he realized it wasn't Rory, it was someone shorter than Rory and stockier, too. He was dressed in the kind of basketball clothes kids wear on the street. The figure turned and looked in at Andrew and then turned back to watching birds flying along the shore. He probably can't see much of me with all the sun out there, Andrew decided.

The figure took another look at Andrew, then turned back to the bay and pulled his shirt over his head. Not bad, Andrew thought; at least I'm going to be murdered by a decent looking young thug. The satin shorts draped nicely over his ass and ended almost at his knees. The figure turned again and looked in at Andrew.

“Are you checking me out?” he asked followed by a laugh. He turned back to the bay and Andrew again admired the curve of his ass while thinking maybe he can see me. The young man tugged at the shorts and they fell to the porch floor, revealing Andrew's target, framed by the elastic bands of a jock strap. What the fuck, Andrew thought; at least I'll have a hardon when I die.

Again the young man turned and looked at Andrew. “Pull the sheet off. Let me see what we got to work with.” Andrew slid the sheet down and revealed his erection. “Stroke it.” It was somewhere between a suggestion and an order.

“Nice,” the young man said. He picked up his shorts from the floor and carried them in from the porch.
Once he was inside Andrew got a better look at him and saw his extreme youth.

“You're just a boy,” Andrew exclaimed.

“I'm nineteen and got the same equipment you have.” The boy squeezed his jock emphasizing the heft of its contents. “Keep stroking,” the boy said. “You need some help with that?” He sat on the bed and put his hand on Andrew's thigh.

Andrew didn't need any help that morning. As the boy inched his hand upward, Andrew came, spurting repeatedly into the air. Some of his semen landed on the boy's arm. “Eeeuw,” he said. “I'll be in the kitchen.” He walked out giving Andrew a picture of his almost plump butt in motion.

Andrew quickly cleaned himself up and threw on some clothes. In the kitchen the boy had the basketball gear on again and was holding some papers. “You don't remember me. I'm Seth Behar. We met last night at Eric and Z's house.”

“Amanda's son. Right. Um, nice to know you a lot better, I guess.”

“Was I too forward? Eric says I'm a little pushy. Anyway, Z gave me these contracts and asked me to drop them off. I guess he thought you'd be gone; he gave me a key to your house.”

Andrew took the contracts and glanced at them. “Ok, thanks, Seth. Do you have any other skills?”

“Well, I read over the contracts and I think you should have retained a ninety percent share of the residuals, if there are any. After all, the residuals are completely dependent on your marketing.”

“Ninety percent is definitely pushy, but it's good for openers.” Andrew smiled in admiration.

“I just listened to my mother negotiate. I think it's what she would have asked. Oh, and I liked your jack off. Now I'm going be horny all day.”

Andrew came closer and felt the satiny smoothness of the basketball shorts against Seth's thigh. Seth smiled, “Those come off if you pull down on them. Here, let me help.” Seth pulled off his shirt and Andrew pulled off his shorts. The jock bulged lewdly as Seth had predicted. Seth stood facing Andrew with his elbows on the counter top. Andrew knelt and pulled the elastic pouch to the side. He began licking and sucking a very nice cock; it wasn't huge, but it was a generous mouthful. His hands held Seth by the hips while they developed a motion. Once that started Andrew began exploring, feeling Seth's balls, his thighs, under his balls, back toward his asshole. Seth widened his stance letting Andrew get to the prize. Andrew licked his finger, getting it wet, and then felt for the opening. Seth felt a little puffy to the touch and after a brief massage, Andrew's finger penetrated. Seth thrust his cock fully into Andrew's mouth and let out a high pitched moan. Andrew pulled off his cock and looked at the expression on Seth's face.

“You've been fucked,” he deduced from the look of abandon on Seth's face.

Seth looked down and nodded, “Yeah.” Andrew saw the look of wantonness in his eyes and resumed sucking. Seth came as Andrew pressed his prostate and Andrew took his whole load. The boy leaned back gasping.

Andrew stood and admired his work, thinking how great guys look right after an orgasm. “Now you won't be horny all day,” he said with a note of accomplishment.

“Now I'll be worse off after what you've done to me. I'll be wanting to get fucked all day.” Seth tucked himself back into the jock and pulled his shirt on. Andrew seemed to like jockstraps so he didn't rush to put the shorts back on.

Andrew nervously licked his lips at the almost-invitation and thought desperately. “Here,” he pulled some papers from his briefcase and handed them to Seth. “Read these contracts over and give me suggestions when I get back. Don't get any cum stains on them. I'll be a couple hours in the city. If you want to, that is.”

Andrew left. Seth smiled at the closing door and said, “Gotcha, Andy.”

Soon afterwards Rory arrived and introduced himself to Seth who had contracts spread out all over the kitchen. Then Rory changed for work. He had spent another night with Istanbulla. They went to Santa Clara where she had won a comedy contest, this time at a semi-gay club where she made jokes about being a hooker with a fondness for bisexuals. She got lots of laughs and at the same time boosted lots of egos by convincing the whole house, gays, straights, and what-have-you's, that she was available and probably worth a try. Not quite Marilyn, but close. They got to Izzie's at three in the morning too tired for sex. Rory missed their usual after-the-show recreation and thought maybe he should start looking for a quickie while Izzie was on stage. He had gotten plenty of offers.

He was a little late for work and then left for his appointment with Dr. Davis. It took longer than usual to quiet himself and get into the right mood for the appointment. He didn't really feel like dredging up more old memories, but he had to admit that Dr. Davis actually gave him lots of good and practical advice. He could see it working with people.

“Rory I want you to go back to the time you left the farm. What happened to make you leave?” Dr. Davis probed.

“Well, it wasn't a choice. Almost as soon as I left high school, my grandfather told me to go live with his son Angus in Los Angeles. I knew he needed my help on the farm, but he didn't give me a choice. He said he was going to tenant some of the land to Mexicans, that it was almost as profitable as raising crops himself.”

“Let's look at how he told you? Think about the exact conversation.”

“I remember Grandma crying and an argument between Grandpa and Uncle Phil. But I don't rememeber the words.”

“That's ok, you don't need to remember them; we can use the boy to remember. I want you to separate yourself from that boy Rory and just watch him. He's not you any more. He's an actor almost, one whose thoughts you can hear and whose actions you can see. Rise up above the scene, above the farm. Can you see it? Can you see the people?”

“Yes. I can see it. All the people. And the valley.”

“Now can you see Rory with his grandfather? Ok, go back to the day before the decision to send Rory to Los Angeles. What is Rory doing?”

“He's weeding chiles, thinking he's fresh out of high school and he didn't need to study trigonometry to pull weeds. It's brutally hot and he's looking forward to the end of the day. He finishes the chiles and goes into the barn. It's not really a barn, there aren't any animals; it's just a big shed they called a barn. He's putting his tools away and straightening up the tool room. Uncle Phil walks in and helps. Then Rory starts to sweep the part where they parked the trucks and Uncle Phil watches him and says, 'You look like Fergus.'

“'Who is Fergus?' Rory asks. Uncle Phil is doing more watching than work as usual.

“ 'He's just someone who's gone now. He had the same color hair as you, like copper in the sun. You look so much like Fergus. He was my friend.' Uncle Phil could babble some and Rory wasn't paying full attention to him.

“Uncle Phil picked a coil of rope off the floor and moved to hang it on the wall but he dropped several coils and tangled the rest. 'Here, Rory, help me' he calls.

“Rory leans his broom against the wall and trots over to Uncle Phil. He's a little out of breath. He holds one end of the rope and Phil starts untangling the rest. A bunch of hay bits falls off the rope and sticks to Rory's chest. Phil smiles and brushes them away. 'So like Fergus,' he says and goes back to the knots of rope. 'You gotta do it for me, boy.'

“Rory is afraid; he tries to get away but Phil is powerful. He grabs Rory and ties him with the rope. Rory isn't struggling; he is submitting. 'Come here, boy. Come here, Fergus.' Phil says.

“Phil unhooks Rory's pants and yanks them down to his knees. Rory is whimpering but his cock is hard. 'Please, Uncle Phil, don't do it.'

“ 'You used to call me Philly, Fergus. Remember calling me Philly?' Phil turns Rory around and bends him over the fender of a tractor.

“ 'No, Uncle Phil, please, no! Not again!' Rory yells, but Phil ignores him.

The real Rory began crying and Dr. Davis calmed him. “It's not really happening. It's just a scene in your head, Rory.”

“Uncle Phil tries to force himself on Rory, but Rory keeps twisting away and Phil's ass is pumping away ineffectively as Grandpa bursts into the barn.

“ 'Philip,' he roars, 'Get out of here! Get out now!' He turns to Rory and says, 'Poor boy. I should have known. I should have known.' Now Grandpa is crying; Rory has never seen anyone old cry before. 'Poor boy,' Grandpa keeps saying as he unties him and looks away while Rory pulls his pants up. 'Get yourself cleaned up, boy.' Grandpa says as he walks in the direction Phil took.

“Rory stays in his room. He doesn't eat dinner. He hears Grandpa and Uncle Phil arguing, but he tries not to hear the words. A door slams. Grandpa calls to him to come to the dinner table. Rory sits and Grandpa pours him a shot of whiskey. 'Sip it, boy. It will help.' They sit in silence. Rory coughs on the first sip and drinks the rest more carefully. Grandpa pours another and begins speaking. 'Fergus was your uncle, too. Robbie Bruce's brother; your father's brother. And you do look mighty like him. He and your father were from Albuquerque and they brought life onto this farm when your father married Rose. Your Uncle Phil, well, you know he's slow don't you?' Grandpa waits for Rory's nod and continues, 'He admired your uncle Fergus and formed an, uh, an attachment. He worshiped Fergus and when Fergus left the farm, Phil wasn't the same. He was always slow, but he turned mean. Drinking and losing fights beat some of it out of him over the years, but he was never right. Your mother moved out and promised she'd be back to for you, but she never … well, she never got herself set up to be able to do that. She loved you, boy, but things never worked out for her. And as hard as her life has been she would never come back for help. That's my fault, I guess.'

“Grandpa looks at Rory's glass and says, 'Half a shot more is all, boy; this is medicinal.' He poured a half a shot for Rory and a full one for himself and continued. 'So here's all I know to do, Rory. Your Uncle Phil has to stay here; there's no one and no place that would take him. But I'll never let today happen to you again. So your Uncle Angus has agreed you can live with him. There's money for you to go to school if you want, but not for much else. You're a good boy and we'll miss you.'

“Rory hears his grandmother sob in the next room and the next day he leaves for Los Angeles.”

“You will wake up on one. Three, two, one. Are you ok? That was hard, Rory. But you needed to learn it because it explains so much your detachment and your reluctance to get close to people. No one could blame you.” Dr. Davis gave Rory a handful of tissues. “Now you can begin to deal with it.”

Andrew got home and immediately went into the bedroom to change his clothes. He emerged wearing a bathrobe and watched Seth who leaned over the counter and making notes as he turned contract pages. “I'm almost done,” he said. Andrew quietly came up behind the boy and pushed against his ass, rotating his pelvis. Seth took a deep breath and pushed back. “Oh, yeah! I've been waiting all day for that,” Seth said. Andrew pulled the shorts down, again leaving the jock in place, and spread some lube in the right places. He entered Seth quickly, causing a yelp from the boy, but they quickly settled down to rhythmic fucking.

Seth moaned and groaned, filling the silence with “Oh, yeah. Do it. Fuck me. Harder! Oh, that's big. Do it to me.” Seth wondered if he was overacting a little; but Andrew seemed to like the chatter and soon came. Seth folded his arms on the counter top and lay his head down. “Oh, my God, Andrew. I never expected that to be so good.” He was panting and sounded close to exhaustion. Then the phone rang and he answered crisply. “Seth Behar, for Andrew. How can I help you? Oh, hello, Eric. Just a second.” He looked at Andrew.

Andrew held a used condom in his hand, his dick was still dripping, and he was naked and out of breath; he motioned no to Seth and headed for the bathroom.

“Sorry Eric, Andrew's on another line. Is there a message? Of course I remember him. When? Tomorrow? Oh, now! Ok, I'll tell him.”

Seth waited for Andrew to come out of the shower. “Logan Long is staying at Eric's. He doesn't know for how long,” Seth told a damp Andrew. Then he took the towel from Andrew and helped dry his hair. “Was I ok? You want to go again?” Andrew hugged him and Seth sighed, “You're making me hard. See?” He pulled his jock down.

“Oh, baby, it's like the sun came out,” Andrew said and kissed him repeatedly.

Let there be light, Seth thought. This is so easy.

Seth sat on the edge of the bed as Andrew removed his jock. He leaned back and let Andrew play with his hard cock; the play eventually turned to stroking it and sucking on his balls. Seth pulled one leg up to give Andrew access to his asshole. Andrew held Seth's knees up and began rimming. Seth began groaning when Andrew's finger entered him; but it really hurt when two fingers plunged deep. Andrew was being a little rougher than Seth expected. At last Andrew lowered huis legs and began sucking on his cock.

Rory walked in on Andrew's cocksucking and tried to be nonchalant about it. “Oops, sorry, just let me grab a jacket. Seth, right?” Rory grabbed a jacket and left without looking a second time at the tangled couple.

“Man, he's a ditz,” Seth said after Rory left.

Andrew looked at him appraisingly, the lovelight gone. “Yes, but he can be a real nice ditz.”

Oops, I need to be careful of Rory, Seth decided. “I'm sorry I said that.” He watched a twinkle return to Andrew's eye.

 

[DonQuixote]

Rory,
Seth is a conniving little bitch, isn't he?

Not that the fuck wasn't good, but the too too clinical aspect of "what's in it for me? How can I maneuver?" is nasty.

Great Read.

 

[EasyRory]

Great story - realy enjoying it!

Thanks, Zorro. Want me to introduce a Brit? You can write his part.

 

[EasyRory]

Session Nine

Rory left Andrew and Seth and went for a walk, admiring the ever-changing beauty of the bay. With the summer ending the birds were flocking in again. The shoreline in Alameda was carefully landscaped to look natural, using sea grass to hold the beach and native wildflowers for color. Its appearance harmonized with the honest, rough and ready character of the rest of the island. That slightly scruffy look of Alameda was like that of a handsome man with a bruise on his cheek, someone who probably came out of the fight better off than the other guy.

Rory looked at his watch and calculated how long it usually took for Andrew to come. I can go back in about three minutes, he concluded. No, no that's not fair, he laughed out loud; I'll give him five minutes at least. Thinking about Andrew's short fuse put a smile on his face.

“Rory!”

He looked over and saw Ted Dorrance sitting in the sand on the other side of the wind-break fence. Ted was a recent graduate of Alameda High, who he had met once at Eric's house.

“Hey, you have a good memory. 'S up?”

“I'm just sittin' watching the world go by. Join me?” Ted suggested, his speech slow and slightly slurred.

Rory sat down and then declined the joint Ted offered him. “It makes my nose all stuffy. Maybe I'll get a contact high from you.” From the way Ted was sitting Rory could see his cock almost hanging out of his shorts. He wondered if that was the carelessness of a stoner or part of a plan. “Are you glad to be a senior this year?”

“Really. I'll be so glad to be out of school. I'm already a year late. I missed a year in the eighth grade 'cause my family moved to Bumfuck, Egypt for ten months.”

“Bumfuck?”

“It's just west of Aswan. My father was working for Bechtel on some upgrade to a dam. Man, they had good dope, though. I think they invented the bong.” Ted hugged a knee to his chest and his cock was in plain sight. “Jeez, I'm hangin' out,” he said, waiting for Rory to have a look. Then he tucked himself back into his shorts. “What are you guys doing?” he mimicked in a deep, gruff voice. “We're just hangin' out, hangin' out, Officer.” Ted giggled at his own joke.

Nothing was said for a while as they watched the sun drop below the ridgeline of the peninsula's hills; there was no fogbank today. Then, “You into dick at all, Rory? You're friends with Cal and Larry and Eric, aren't you?”

“Yeah, they're friends. Right now, you'd say I'm out of dick.”

“Whatever. You could get into mine if you want.” Ted sounded hopeful.

“You're young, Ted.”

“I'm gonna be nineteen in a couple months. How old were you when you started?”

“Younger than that,” Rory admitted, “but it wasn't my idea.”

“So, what's the problem.” Ted reached into his shorts and was playing with himself; then he reached over to check out Rory.

Man, I shouldn't be letting him do this, Rory thought, as Ted's fingers worked the old magic trick. He's in high school! Ted was unzipping his pants and still Rory didn't stop him. “Wow!” Ted said grabbing a handful of dick. “Nice one,” he said and eagerly sucked on Rory's cock.

It was almost dark and they were screened from the road, but Rory could still see silhouettes of people walking by. He pulled Ted off his cock and said, “We can't do this on a public beach.”

“We are doing it,” Ted logically countered and resumed sucking.

Rory pulled him off again. “No. Besides, I want to fuck you.” What? Rory thought. Did I really say that?

“Come on,” Ted said. They walked to his truck and got in. Ted drove to a quiet side street and knelt on the passenger's side of the floor. He pulled his shorts down, and bent over the seat. The bends and angles of their bodies made sex almost impossible, awkward, and yet erotic. “Go ahead,” he invited. Amid the tangle of legs Rory found a workable position and connected. It was the wrong place with absolutely the wrong kid and it was hot as hell. Ted lay motionless but receptive. A few sharp gasps as Rory penetrated were the only sounds he made. Rory could feel the tension in his partner's every muscle. He managed greater penetration, and Ted sighed but still couldn't relax. The feel of Ted's firm ass pressing on Rory's pelvis triggered the climax as he tried for still deeper penetration. Almost as soon as the last spasm wracked Rory, the position became intolerably uncomfortable. They shifted back to sitting normally.

Ted squirmed on the seat panting with his shorts around his ankles and his dick pointing at the roof. He stroked himself. Rory barely got his mouth on the erupting dick in time. He spat the semen out the window and wiped his mouth.

Ted lay with his wilting cock exposed and smiled. It seemed as if he might fall asleep. Then he opened his eyes and looked at Rory and his mood changed.

“I hope I didn't hurt you.” Rory said.

“You did. At first. It's ok.” Ted sounded calm but in a hurry. He went through some contortions to pull his shorts up as quickly as possible. He drove Rory back to his street and was gone.

Rory went into his house, gave himself the male equivalent of a whore's douche, and asked Andrew if he was hungry. As if their respective sexcapades had never happened, the two went out to Nick's in San Leandro and talked about possibly redoing the bathroom. Andrew thought a jacuzzi would fit. “You'd be fun in a jacuzzi,” he told Rory. Eventually Andrew apologized for getting caught in their bed.

“Fidelity isn't our thing,” Rory said, leaving out any specifics. They made an agreement not to do anything at home. “Unless you're off in Bumfuck, Egypt,” was the agreement's sole amendment.

Andrew played with the words. “I got a greatfuck in Bumfuck.”

Rory riffed:

“I bubbled a bong from Bumfuck,
And banged a boy out of dumb luck.
Had my cock lasted longer,
Or the bedstead been stronger,
I'd still be fucking his brother Chuck. “

Rory's spontaneous and unexpected ribaldry took Andrew totally by surprise. He laughed and held Rory's hand, looking at him. “Dreamy green eyes.” Andrew batted his brown eyes; he was captivated anew.

Seth woke them both up in the morning and told Andrew he had a few pages of contract proposal notes. He went into the kitchen and set up breakfast for two. “Great coffee,” Andrew said; and Rory agreed it was better than he ever made. Seth took a small bow. When they finished eating, Seth sat down and began reviewing the contracts with Andrew.

As Rory dressed for work, he could hear the Seth's recital from the kitchen. Seth was still ticking off points when he left for work. “Andrew, this woman needs new goals. She could work a lot more if she tried looking her age. Sexy grandma, or something. You can tell her portfolio is way old.”

Rory entered the office and walked in on Bernice with her hand in a very familiar position on Cyril. She unashamedly took her hand off his khakis as if holding your work partner by the dick was routine office procedure. Cyril still had enough innocence to blush and there was no hiding his erection. Rory ignored them and immediately changed the subject when Cyril tried to explain.

“We need a new customer. I know we're not sales people, but the company wants to expand it's client base. More is better, even if it's a small customer,” Rory pitched.

Engine blew in the door. “Rory, I need an extended lunch. The Oakland paper is coming over today. I'll work late to make up.”

“Do it,” Rory said and restarted his sales talk to include Engine. “Even if your mother just needs her spice rack organized, keep your eye out. It could be an application we could sell to others.”

“The only spice I use is WD-40. Vroom, vroom,” Engine said.

“And he doesn't put it on his food,” Cyril joked.

“Eeeuw,” said Bernice.

“It's not so bad,” Cyril said.

“I told you I don't want to hear about your sordid past, Cyril” Bernice cautioned.

“Don't get her pissed, Cyril or you'll have to go back to your sordid past,” Engine joked.

Their comments were pretty pointed but they weren't meant to be nasty, Rory reflected. It's amazing how they have adjusted to Cyril and Engine's swapping sex roles. For the coffee break, Engine came up with some cupcakes for everybody. After getting compliments Engine confessed he had made them himself. “No WD-40,” he promised. Then he left for his rendezvous with destiny in the form of the Oakland Tribune.

When Engine got home he found he was the last to arrive. The photographer was outspokenly disappointed when he saw Devon and Engine together. “Shit, it's so hard to make mixed race pictures look good. The lighting is so different,” he complained.

“That's half the point of the article, Chris,” the Trib reporter said. “You're the photographic genius. Figure something out. We need at least one large format of them together.”

Devon was annoyed by the comment but forgave Chris when he said, “You're both great looking and I can make you look like stars, as long as your in different frames. Making you both look great at the same time will be almost … wait. Ok, I got it.”

The reporter already had his part of the work done; it was centered on the pluses of living in Alameda. He got names and some basic facts about both of his subjects and left. Chris however was taking his time. He wanted shots of both men in their work clothes, contrasting Devon's banker's gray suit and Engine's clean jeans and a collar look Then he wanted shots of what they wear around the apartment. They wasted a lot of time changing clothes. Next he said he wanted Engine in black and Devon in white. Just make it shirts, he said; it would be a waist up shot. He positioned Devon in the sun and Engine in the shade right at the door to their balcony; then he reversed the positions. He saw more possibilities and asked them to shed the shirts. He reshot the same combinations and then suggested the guys lean against each other's palms, like an isometric pushing exercise. They pushed and pushed as Chris moved them slightly to catch different light effects. At one point, Engine laughed and Devon kissed him. “Do that again,” the photographer demanded. “Hold it, I want a close up.”

“These pictures are going to be breath-taking. We can go way beyond the Tribune, if you guys want. This is going to be another 'Back Flip Fuck.' ”

Engine shrugged not caring or really knowing what Chris was talking about. Devon said sure; he just wanted to kiss Engine some more. They hesitated when Chris wanted them nude, but he said it would be arty, not porn. The poses were taxing and tedious and Engine said, “This sure ain't porn, unless porn is hard work.”

“Good porn is hard work,” Chris said as he kept moving them around. At last he was finished and he promised the guys a preview in a few days. He packed up and left.

“It was hard work, but it was definitely sexy,” Devon said. “I wouldn't mind a little ...” Engine was in his arms before he could finish. “Engine, would you mind if, for a change, I ...” Engine handed him the lube and continuing kissing Devon's amazing lips as if he could never get enough. “I'm big; we've never done it this way ...”

“It's time to try. I'm not that fragile, Devon.”

Engine got back to work and explained to Rory that the shoot took longer than he thought but that he would make up the time. “No sweat, Engine,” Rory replied, thinking Engine looked amazingly sexy for the middle of the day.

“Would you want to call me Tom?” Engine asked.

“Why the hell would we do that?” Bernice asked.

“It's my name. I don't feel like an 'Engine' any more.”

“Glad to meet you, Tomcat,” Cyril said.

After work Rory thought to himself 'Tom'. Why wouldn't he feel like an 'Engine' anymore? He stretched out his stride heading south on Shoreline. Come to think of it I haven't heard a vroom in a while; but he's looking really good. Devon must be working some kind of magic. He stopped running at Broadway and began walking back north. He turned up Grand as it started to get dark. He decided to run the rest of the way home before the night got cold. In another five minutes he got to his house and Ted Dorrance was waiting on the porch.

“Yo,” Ted said, sounding pretty toasted.

“Did the neighbors see you smoking?” Rory asked.

“One of 'em ask me if I was dealing.”

“Sit there. I'll be right out.” Rory quickly showered and changed. He went back to the porch but Ted was gone. Thank God was Rory's reaction. He got a beer and sat on the porch watching the occasional car drive by and thinking back to his last day on the New Mexico farm. He decided to call his Uncle Angus. He waited through four rings and was told the number had been disconnected. While he tried information Andrew arrived and sat quietly with him.

“That's funny Andrew. There's no answer at my uncle's.”

Andrew kissed him and said, “I know it's early but let's go to bed. I was too tired last night.”

Rory agreed and they climbed the stairs. Andrew turned the bedroom light on and shouted, “Who the fuck is this?”

A naked Ted lay sprawled across the bed. He squinted and held a hand over his eyes. “Turn the light out, and fuck me again, Rory.”