Date: Sun, 29 May 2011 13:16:31 +1030
From: Marcus McNally <marcusis32@live.com.au>
Subject: Love On The Rocks - 21

This story contains sexual situations between males. If material of this
nature offends you then you should not read this story.  If you are under
18 years of age you are probably not legally allowed to read this story.
This story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons
living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely
coincidental. The author claims all copyrights in this story and no
duplication or publication of this story is allowed (except by the web
sites to which it has been posted) without the consent of the author.

*************

For the first time since Ty and I had signed the lease on our Point Piper
house, things were starting to return to normal and Wolseley Road was
beginning to feel like home.  Moreover, we were starting to feel relaxed
and de- stressed, just as we had for those six glorious weeks on the
Sunshine Coast.

Monday morning started just as typically as it had on the Coast.  We were
woken at 7.30 by George's light knock on the door.  As we both rubbed our
eyes and yawned, George walked in carrying a tray with buttered muffins,
scrambled eggs, bacon and freshly brewed coffee, our first breakfast in bed
in our new place.

"This is a nice surprise, George," I smiled.

"We need some routine back, sir," George replied.  "Trying to herd everyone
together for meals was doing my head in.  So I'm working to a schedule now,
and I feel like I'm back on top of things again."

"I think that's code for `control freak' George!" Ty smirked.

"Call it what you like, sir," George shot back.  "But from now on it's my
way, or hit the highway!"

Ty and I looked at one another.  "He's a control freak," I whispered
loudly.

As George left our room, he was replaced by Scott, who had no doubt
followed the smell of food.  He stood in the doorway crunching into an
apple, as usual dressed in Lachlan's army boxers and singlet.  "Something
smells good," he said with a mouth full of Royal Gala.

"Yeah, probably me," I replied.

Scott rolled his eyes and then looked at me with the puppy-dog face he'd
cultivated when he was trying to curry favour.  It took me a moment to
realise what he wanted, and I moved closer to Ty in the bed as I threw back
the doona.  Scott scampered over and instead of sliding in, he leapt.  His
landing caused a ripple effect almost upending the breakfast tray and
causing Ty's coffee to spill.

"Hey asshole," Ty grumbled.  "Careful!"

"Somebody woke up in a good mood!" Scott chuckled.

"I don't know what your parents will make of this if they walk past our
door," I mused.

"They've gone to see Lachie already," Scott responded.  "They wanted to
have breakfast with him.  Besides, they're used to me being in bed with Ty
or Lachie."

"Yeah," Ty laughed.  "It was great when I first started doing small gigs in
Stanthorpe.  I'd have a really late night and I'd be sound asleep, and my
annoying 10-year-old asshole brother would get into bed with me and wake me
up."

"Yeah right," Scott replied as he leaned across me and pinched a strip of
bacon from Ty's plate.  "You used to crack the sads if I went and got into
bed with Lachie."

"In case you haven't noticed asshole, there's someone else in my bed these
days," Ty grinned.  "And he's naked!"

"Ewww."

"Hey!" I protested.  "I've been told I have the body of a young Greek God!"

"Well you'd better give it back," Scott giggled, "you're getting it all
wrinkled!"

I slapped him on the back of the head as he leaned across me for another
strip of Ty's bacon.

"Hey!" Ty barked.  "You've had your breakfast."

"No I haven't," Scott shot back.  "George thinks I was making a pass at him
last night, so he punished me by not giving me breakfast."

Funny the way George just happened to be walking past the door.  "You'll
burn in Hell for telling lies, Scott Hill."

"Sorry George," Scott called out, before turning to me and whispering, "He
hates me.  He only gave me a really small breakfast."

Ty sat upright and swung his legs off the side of the bed.  "Come on guys,"
he said.  "Time to get the show on the road."

He padded to the bathroom, his spectacular ass the focus of two sets of
eyes.

"Now that, grasshopper, is a work of art!" I confided.

"Nah it's just Ty's flabby ass," Scott laughed.

Ty called from the bathroom, "I have morning wood, asshole.  Either fuck
off, or I'll come out and wave it around."

"Off I fuck!" Scott grinned at me as he scurried from the room.

**********

All dressed and ready for the day, we gathered in the kitchen for more
coffee and to plan logistics.  I would drop Ty and Scott at the hospital on
my way to work, Ty would take a cab in time to be at tour rehearsal by 11
and Scott would hitch a ride home with Frank and Dot mid-afternoon.
Lachlan would have a bit of time to himself before I picked Ty up from the
studio and we'd visit him on our way home.

My work day turned out to be a busy one, meeting two new clients and
briefings with three existing clients, all involved in complicated royalty
disputes.  Late in the afternoon I had a call from Derek, the press
secretary for the Minister of Defence, passing on good news; the families
of both Matthew Burgess and Rodney Maguire were very keen to meet Lachlan.
I thanked him profusely for the assistance he'd given me from the outset,
and in advance for setting up a date and time for the get-together.

"If there's anything I can do to repay you for all your help, just let me
know," I assured him.

"Well, a couple of tickets to Tyson Hill's Canberra concert would be
fantastic," he sheepishly replied.

"Consider it done," I said.  "I'll speak to his manager and his publicist
will call you when the tickets are allocated."

I called Ty to give him the good news but his phoned was off.  I was keen
to let Lachlan know that his mates' families wanted to meet him, so I took
an early mark from the office and drove straight to the rehearsal studio,
only to find that Ty had already left.

I was about to leave the rehearsal building when Vince appeared and greeted
me.  "Your boyfriend shot through," he chuckled.

"Where's he gone?" I asked.

"To the hospital of course," he replied.  "All through rehearsal his mind
wasn't on the job because he wanted to see Lachlan.  So I wound everything
up early.  No point really if his heart wasn't in it."

"He's just worried about his brother, mate," I assured him.  "He'd be there
day and night if he could."

"Don't I know!" Vince replied.  "As long as I've known him the three of
them have been joined at the hip.  I'm surprised he didn't let you know
though.  Have you checked your phone?"

I did, and sure enough there was a text from Ty letting me know he was at
the hospital.  Before I left, Vince updated me with the news that the
second single from Ty's new album was out today.  It was "Until You Came
Along".  I couldn't stop the grin that spread across my face.

"What are you so smug about?"

"Oh nothing"

"I know it's Ty's little love song for you!"

"Did he tell you?"

"He didn't have to.  I could tell from the lyric."

"Seeing it's about me, aren't I entitled to a royalty?"

Vince laughed.  "Start trying to fuck with me, kid, and I'll get Ty's
hotshot lawyer on to you!"

"Yeah right," I laughed.  "Lawyers are all piss and wind."

"Not this one," Vince smirked.  "He's a mean cunt!"

Vince went on to tell me that Ty's album `Hill Songs' would be officially
released on Friday, that Ty would do some radio and press interviews by
phone at the weekend, and that Monique would come to the house to
coordinate them.

We shook hands and Vince disappeared inside to close up for the night,
while I drove to the hospital.  I found Lachlan sitting up in bed, looking
the healthiest and happiest I'd seen him since his return from Afghanistan.
His face lit up when he saw me and I was offered a hug.  Ty, he told me,
had taken a cab home to Point Piper, but they'd had a great time together,
clowning around and making each other laugh.

When I asked Lachlan how he was doing, he laughed and confided that he'd
been terribly embarrassed the previous day when the nurse turned up to give
him his sponge bath.

"I sprang a boner," he blushed.  "Talk about being mortified."

We laughed.  "Was she hot?" I asked.

"Yeah, she was.  But it's not that.  It's just that it's ... you know, been
a while.  Hands bandaged and all ..."

"What did she do?"

"Nothing!" Lachlan laughed.  "She just ignored it while I squirmed.  She's
probably used to it."

"Did you get her again today?"

"No," Lachlan replied.  "I actually got Dad to wash me after we had
breakfast."

"Your Dad gave you a sponge bath?" I asked, surprised.

"Yeah.  He's an ex-Army bloke, so he knows the drill.  And at least the
monster stayed asleep!"

Lachlan went on to tell me that Frank and Dot had filled him in on Scott's
idea for a charity concert, and how overwhelmed he was to think that his
family would go to such lengths to support the families of his mates.

"Speaking of Matthew and Rodney's families," I smiled, "they'd really love
to come and see you.  I had a call from the Defence Department today
confirming it.  Apparently both guys had written home about you, saying
what a great mate you were to them."

As I spoke, I could see Lachlan's eyes fill with tears, his grief still
painfully raw.  I leaned over and held him and he sobbed for a few seconds
before pulling himself together, military style, and said "you don't know
what this means to me, Mike.  How do I arrange it?"

Picking up my briefcase and squeezing his hand one more time, I said,
"Leave it to me, mate.  I'll make the arrangements."

I was about to head home when I remembered Lachlan's photos.  I opened my
briefcase, handed him the bag and watched as he unwrapped the two silver
frames with the enlarged photos of he and his mates in their Army fatigues,
arms around each other's shoulders and beaming widely.  Again, his eyes
filled with tears.  I sat down again on the chair beside his bed.

He wiped his tears away.  "You go, mate," he said.  "You've spent enough
time with me. Ty will be waiting for you."

"No Lachlan," I assured him.  "I'm good.  Tell me about Rodney and Matthew.
I want to know about them."

Lachlan took a deep breath, put his hand on my arm and started talking.
For 40 minutes he talked, about the two mates he loved, their escapades,
their fun times and the fears they shared.  They had made a pact that
they'd stick together through thick and thin, and that if anything
happened, they'd never forget one another.  By the time he'd finished, he'd
laughed and cried and laughed again.  And so had I.

"Mate, I promise you this," I assured him.  "We'll make this the best
fucking benefit concert you've ever seen.  And we'll make sure Rod and
Matt's families will be well taken care of."

Lachlan smiled at me, but his eyes betrayed his sorrow.  "I know you will
Mike," he said.  "Thanks, mate.  Really.  Now get outta here.  Ty'll be
getting toey."

I gave him a brief salute, which brought a chuckle, and made my exit.

**********

Opening the front door, I found nobody in the lounge room, only the faint
chatter of George and Dot in the kitchen as they set about preparing to
feed the starving throng.  I stuck my head in the door and greeted them,
and my nostrils told me chicken was on tonight's menu.

"Something smells good!" I grinned.

"We're making chicken pie, dear," Dot smiled.  "It's Frank's favourite."

"With potatoes and greens," added George.  "We can't decide whether to do
potato mash or chips."

"I'd go for the chips, George," I replied.  "And don't forget Dot's gravy!"

"Already done, sir!" George shot back.

"Where are the boys?"

"In your bathroom dear," Dot said.

I wandered into the bedroom and turned right into the en suite, to once
again find Scott in the bathtub and Ty washing his hair.

"Hey guys!" I laughed.  "Aren't you old enough to wash your own hair yet?"
I asked Scott.

"Yeah, of course," Scott replied defensively.  "But I like it when Ty does
it."

"You took your time!" Ty smirked.

"Yeah, I stopped by to see Lachlan and he opened up a bit about Rod and
Matt, so I lent him an ear."

"Is he OK?" Scott asked, concern in his voice.

"Yeah, he's good," I replied.  "I had a call from the Defence Department
today and both the guys' families want to meet him, so he's pretty
relieved."

"That's fantastic Mike!" Ty beamed.  "Do you know when?"

"No, I need to ring Derek back and get him to make the arrangements."

From the bedroom door, we heard Frank call out, "Can I come in?"  Ty, Scott
and I looked at one another and laughed; Frank was clearly making sure he
wasn't walking in on anything `inappropriate'!

"Yeah Dad!" Ty called back.  "Come on in."

Frank wandered into our now crowded bathroom and sat on the toilet seat
while we filled him in on the news from the Defence Department.  As we
talked, Ty rinsed Scott's hair and then pulled the plug.  Scott stood to
dry himself, not the least bit self-conscious of being naked in front of us
all.

As Ty helped him out of the tub and handed him his clothes, Frank and I
left them to it.  Returning to the lounge, I chuckled.

"The washing hair thing!" I said.  "I love how your boys interact with each
other.  I've known close siblings, but nothing like your three."

"Ty used to wash Scott's hair when he was little," Frank replied.  "He'd
never let us do it, always had to be Ty or Lachlan.  Ty used to do
everything for Lachlan when he was little, and then when Scott came along,
they both doted on him.  They played with him and always included him in
their games, even when they had their mates around.  And they always looked
out for him.  They used to walk him to school, even when they were in high
school themselves.  We never had to ask, they just did it."

"It's like they were the perfect kids," I mused, as I poured Frank a gin
and tonic.  "Did they ever get into trouble?"

Frank laughed.  "Oh yeah," he said.  "I'd never call them perfect.  They
used to get into mischief and they'd end up in trouble like typical boys.
And they got their asses whopped!"

"You spanked them?" I asked, amazed.

"Sure I spanked them," he replied, almost defensively.  "Whenever they
stepped out of line.  Just as my Dad did with me."

"I can't imagine any of them being spanked!" I chuckled.

"Are you kidding?  Lachlan was over my knee on a regular basis.  He was
always getting into trouble.  Nothing serious, just boyish pranks and a bit
of larrikin behaviour when he got older.  Scott copped it for being cheeky
and always answering back."

"And Ty?"

"Tyson, not so much," Frank said thoughtfully.  "He was a pretty
well-behaved kid.  But he's the oldest and he learned the ground rules
pretty quickly.  In fact, he only got a hiding once or twice I think.  One
time I remember he wagged school and went to the folk festival in Woodford.
Boy did he cop it when he got home.  His ass was so sore he couldn't sit
down without squirming for a week."

"Just for wagging school?"

"Well, wagging school was one thing.  But he was a good looking 16-year-old
boy and he hitch-hiked to Woodford.  He had no idea how dangerous that
could have been."

I grinned.  "You're right, Frank.  He could have been led astray by some
nasty queer lawyer type ..."

Frank glared at me for a moment and then his face relaxed.  "Careful, son,"
he laughed.  "You're not too old for a spanking ..."

**********

Dinner was another race to the finish, I'd never seen a family chicken pie
disappear so quickly.  George, Dot and I were on our second mouthful as Ty,
Scott and Frank cleared their plates.  They looked at one another in
bewilderment and then at George and Dot.

Dot smiled.  "We made a second one!  I'll go and get it."

"No Dorothy, you finish your dinner," Frank said.  "Scott, go get the pie."

As Scott disappeared to collect round two, I took the opportunity to broach
the subject that so far nobody had raised, and yet needed to be discussed.

"So guys," I began.  "I think we need to think about what happens when
Lachlan is discharged from hospital.  His recovery has been so good it's
likely to be any day now."

Before Ty could speak, Frank jumped in.  "He'll be coming home to
Stanthorpe with us, of course.  He'll have Dot to look after him, and Scott
too."

Scott was about to protest, but Ty cut him off.  "I just assumed he'd stay
here with us, Dad," Ty said.  "He has to have ongoing physio, and the
hospital's so close.  It's too much to expect Mum to look after him."

"It's no trouble, Tyson," Dot said kindly.  "I can make sure he gets all
the care he needs.  And Stanthorpe has a hospital too you know."

"But Mum," Ty reasoned, "Stanthorpe Hospital has three doctors.  And one
nurse.  It's not set up for the ongoing treatment Lachie's going to need."

"Don't argue with your mother Tyson," Frank warned.

"I'm not arguing Dad!  I want Lach to have the best care and he'll get it
at The Prince Of Wales.  He's already established a relationship with the
doctors there.  And besides, I want him around for the benefit concert."

"If your Mother says he's coming back to Stanthorpe, he's coming back to
Stanthorpe.  End of story."

"Now Frank," Dot said calmly.  "Tyson's not arguing."

Turning to Ty she went on, "But son, you're about to go off on tour and
Mike has a full-time job.  Who'd look after him?"

George cleared his throat.  "What am I?  Chopped liver?" he asked with mock
indignation.  "I looked after my sister for six weeks after she had her
stroke."

Dorothy looked flustered.  "I didn't mean to not include you George," she
said carefully.  "But Frank and I would never expect to add to your
workload by having you look after an invalid.  That's something the family
needs to take on."

I could see Ty ready to snap at his Mother for not including George in our
`family', so I jumped in and held up the second chicken pie.  "This is
going cold," I announced.  "You three – eat!  I'll talk."

As expected, Frank and his sons were distracted by food, so I turned to Dot
and took over the discussion.  "There's no question Lachlan could ever get
the fuss and attention here that you'd give him back home, Dot" I said.
"But he needs more than that.  Until the bandages come off his hands, he'll
need to be bathed and he'll need help with the toilet.  Frank will be
working during the day, and it's not something Lachlan would want his Mum
doing for him."

Dot sat up straight and folded her hands.  "I'm his Mother!  I've seen him
naked hundreds of times!"

"Yeah, like when he was five!" Scott giggled.

"It's not just that, Dot," I continued.  "George is here all the time and
my work hours are flexible.  Either of us can drive Lachlan around, and if
we need to get a district nurse in for a few hours a day, then we can
arrange that.  And you and Frank and Scott can come and stay any time you
like.  Ty and I can arrange flights, or a driver if you'd prefer."

"Hey!" Scott exclaimed.  "I'm not going anywhere!"

"You're coming back home with me and your Father, aren't you?" asked Dot,
surprised.

"No, I'm staying here!"

"If your Mother says you're coming back to Stanthorpe, you're coming back
to Stanthorpe," said Frank. "End of story."

"But Daaaaad," whined Scott.  "I want to be with Lachie.  Especially with
Ty on tour.  Lachie will miss Ty, so it'd be good for him to have one
brother here.  And I've got my gap year, so I can be around him all the
time.  That means he'll have George and me and Mike.  He'll have his own
bloody staff!"

"Scott!"

"Sorry Mum."

"I think it might be best if you come back to Stanthorpe dear.  You've been
away from home such a lot recently, and you could probably do with some
peace and quiet."

"But Muuuuuum.  Remember how Lachie looked after me when I was sick?  He
stayed home from school for that week when I had bronchitis?  Now it's my
turn to look after him.  Pleeeeease Mum?"

"If your Mother says ..."

"Daaaaad!"

"No arguing please," Dot cut in, before sighing.  "Frank, can you imagine
what he'll be like if he comes home with us?  He'll be like a cat on a hot
tin roof trying to come up with schemes to get himself back here to the
city.  And it means Lachlan will have his brother around ..."

"So you mean I can stay Mum?"

"Well, it's not me you should be asking Scott," she smiled.  "You need to
ask your brother."

"Ty?" chirped Scott hopefully.

"Yeah, it's OK with me," Ty nodded.

Without being prompted, Scott turned to me.  "Mike?"

"Yes mate!" I chuckled.  "But you've gotta pull your weight.  George will
need some help around the house now, with four guys to look after.  And
three of `em are the notorious Hill brothers!"

"Thanks Mike!" Scott grinned, drumming his hands on the table in victory.
"You guys rock!"  Then, as if it had just dawned on him, he turned to
George.  "You OK about it, chopped liver?"

George looked down his nose at Scott across the table.  "Delighted," he
said, "Asshole!"

"George!"

"Sorry Dorothy.  But Scott, your duties start now.  Ice cream and chocolate
sauce are in the fridge, bowls are on the bench.  Make it snappy ..."

**********

Once dinner had finished, George started clearing the table while Dot and
Frank prepared to leave for the Hospital.  I watched in amusement as Dot
packed the thermos of chicken soup she'd made for Lachlan at the same time
she prepared the pie, and also the cake she'd baked and topped with passion
fruit frosting, Lachlan's favourite.  She caught my eye and smiled.

"The hospital food doesn't look all that good," she said.  "The soup always
made him better when he was a little boy.  And there's enough cake for him
to share it with the nurses.  A couple of them are very pretty.  And no
rings on their fingers, either."

I love this woman!  "Dot, I have no doubt it's your soup that's made him
recover so quickly!" I laughed.  "And the future Mrs Lachlan Hill might
just be a stethoscope away!"

"Well, we'd better be off then," Dot fussed, manoeuvring her homemade goods
basket towards the door.  "The cab's here."

"Hey!  Wait for me!" called Scott.

"You going too, squirt?" Ty asked.

"Yeah, I wanna be there when Mum tells Lachlan I'm gonna be his nurse!
He'll shit himself"

"Scott Hill!"

"Sorry Mum.  Now you boys," he mocked, "don't be staying up late.  And no
getting into trouble or it'll be paddy whack the drum when I get home."

He scurried out the door behind his parents and closed it just as Ty
launched a cushion at him.

"So," I said, looking at Ty and George.  "Just us three amigos tonight, eh?

"Don't count me in," George replied.  "I have bolognaise sauce to make, and
about five buttons to sew back on Scott's shirts."

"Hmmm," I said, scratching my chin as I looked at Ty.  "Just us two
amigos?"

"Correct!" Ty grinned.  "Say amigo?  Is that a court summons in your
pocket?"

"No, amigo," I grinned back.  "I'm just VERY pleased to see you!"

We both turned and looked at George, whose eyes rolled.  "Yes I know.
You're taking a `nap'.  Remind me in the morning to take your sheets to the
panel beater."

"Love you, George," Ty called as he ushered me quickly towards our bedroom.

**********

Ty slid beneath the sheet and took me in his arms.  We kissed.  He moved
his head and started licking the side of my neck.  As he did so, his hand
slipped lower and groped my soft cock as he raised himself up on one elbow
and gazed at me.

"I love you" he mouthed, and my cock started to swell.  He looked down and
smirked, so aware of the effect he was having on me.  Our kiss was long and
languid, and when it ended, I slid down the mattress and buried my face in
the heat of his groin.  I ran my parted lips up his swelling shaft,
slipping my mouth over the head of his cock on the upstroke.  I treated him
to the best head I could offer, mindful not to take him to the precipice.
I had plans for his prick.

When I sensed he was getting close, I backed off, rolling on to my back
with my knees raised, my ass splayed before him.  He kissed me again, and I
felt his pulsating cock against my leg, sticky with precum.  He lowered
himself between my legs, lifted them slightly and used his lips to nip his
way up my thigh until his mouth was once again kissing my ballbag.  This
time, he did a `hummer', holding my sac in his mouth and humming.  I didn't
recognise the tune, but I didn't care.  I wanted him inside me.

Ty effortlessly raised my hips and buried his face between my cheeks.  I
thought I'd sighed, but when the sound left my lips, I realised it was a
loud whimper.  He lapped his soft tongue from my portal to my nuggets, his
thumbs holding me open to him.  When his tongue made its way inside me, my
eyes rolled to the back of my head.  Every nerve ending in my ass was raw
as he flicked his tongue up and down, and then in delicate circles.

My erection returned with a vengeance and much as I could have died happily
with Ty's tongue inside me, I was perilously close to coming.  I
reluctantly pushed Ty's head away and he looked up as I sat up.  He moved
and sat cross-legged in front of me.  Holding his gaze, I spat in my hand
and reached down and coated his rigid rod.  I smiled at the wave of desire
that flashed across his face.  I knew what he wanted, and sweet Jesus, I
wanted it too.

He gently pushed me backward until my head rested on two pillows.  As I
raised my legs, he grabbed a third pillow and slipped it under my hips
before moving to lie raised above me.  With one hand he angled his cock so
it pressed lightly against my expectant entrance.  He remained static for,
what?  A few seconds?  A minute?  Time stood still.  He lowered his lips
and kissed my eyelids, before pushing very gently forward into me.  His
cock was as stiff as steel and slowly he slid home, not stopping until his
balls were resting in the crevice at the top of my ass cheeks.

I'd never felt so full.  Or aroused.  I looked at his face.  His eyes were
squeezed shut as he acclimatised to the warmth and snugness, and he flexed
deep inside of me.

He raised his head and kissed me with such ardour that my heart started
beating hard and fast enough for both of us.  With his lips still pressed
to mine and his tongue probing my mouth, he started to move in slow,
gliding strokes that created a sensation like fireworks exploding in my
grateful ass.

He established a pace that thrilled us both, thrusting his hips forward in
a steady rhythm that had me lolling my head from side to side, as my
prostate sent a message to my brain begging all my other nerves to back
off.  With practiced skill he impaled me fully before withdrawing so that
just the head of his throbbing manhood was inside me.  Such was my need for
more that each time he withdrew, my anal muscles clutched tightly around
his crown, desperately trying to draw him back in.  Each time I did that,
he made noises that sounded like a puppy whimpering to be let in from the
cold.

Relentlessly he ploughed me, to the point where I felt we'd somehow become
one, totally in tune with each other's feelings and needs.  Without warning
he shifted his position slightly and began gliding over my gland with fast
strokes.  I started to pant, my hands clutching at his muscular butt
cheeks, forcing him as deep inside me as was humanly possible.  The quake
started in slow motion and I was almost sobbing when my orgasm hit.  I was
writhing beneath him, clutching at the sheets as my cock spewed several
rounds of molten man juice between our heaving bodies.

It was all over then for my rocker.  With a roar that was like nothing
human, he thrust forward and held still as his floodgates opened and he
poured his seed into me in quick, hot bursts.  His climax literally knocked
the wind out of him and he gulped for air as his cock twitched inside of
me.  Sweat from his forehead fell like raindrops on to my face and, as he
came down to earth, I pulled him down so that he lay prone on top of me, my
right hand rubbing his ass cheeks in gentle circles.

I buried my face in his neck and peppered it with quick kisses as his
breathing gradually returned to normal.  We lay that way until his
shrinking manhood was forced from my ass by the sheer force of the load
he'd blown, which needed somewhere to flood.

Ty rolled on to his back and we lay side by side, each basking in the
aftermath that only truly exceptional lovemaking produces.  The silence in
the room was broken only by our mutual contended sighs.

I lay on my side facing Ty, slipping one arm under his neck, while the
other rested low on his tummy, my hand lightly stroking his belly and
tickling his pubes.

"I love you" I said, knowing as the words left my lips that I was stating
the obvious.  But I liked to tell him.

We settled into position and instead of closing his eyes, Ty looked up at
me and said "I'm sorry you've been lumped with all this family stuff," he
said.  "I know we were thinking it was just gonna be the two of us ..."

"Mate," I said quietly, kissing the top of his head.  "I realised a while
back it was never gonna be `the two of us'!  It's me and the whole Hill
family.  And that's cool.  I love your family.  We're in this together."

"Man," Ty sighed.  "I know I've said it before, but I don't know how I'd be
getting on if I hadn't found you ..."

**********

The next week flew by in a blur.  Ty's tour rehearsals had finished and he
was travelling a lot to promote it, as well as his album which had given
him his second chart-topping debut.  Dorothy and Frank were gradually
packing in preparation for their trip home to Stanthorpe, and I had an
endless list of clients to attend to.  Meantime, Lachlan had been given
three days' notice by his doctors, who believed his recovery was
progressing well enough for him not to require around the clock nursing
care.

It was a bonus that they agreed he should remain in Sydney, close to the
state-of-the-art facilities he required for his rehabilitation, and I was
pleased that they were able to set Dot and Frank's minds at rest by
reassuring them that his full recovery would be complete a lot sooner if he
stayed where he was.

Between times, we managed to have a few meetings with Vince to discuss the
logistics of a benefit concert.  Following negotiations with the tour
promoter, it was agreed that Ty's tour - which started in Adelaide in only
a week's time before moving to Melbourne and then Sydney - would
accommodate one extra concert at Acer Arena. The proceeds of this show –
with its all-star bill – would aid the Burgess and Maguire families.  By
the end of the week, Vince had secured agreements from many of Ty's
contemporaries that they would donate their services for free for the
cause.  On Friday, the media release went out and the first newspaper ads
appeared.

Vince had taken steps to ensure that Ty was the concert's headliner, and
that his rock star mates – Jimmy Barnes, Kasey Chambers, Angus and Julia
Stone, Birds Of Tokyo and DJ Havana Brown included – were the supports.
But Ty wouldn't have it.  It wasn't about Tyson Hill, he explained to
Vince.  In deference to the musos who stepped forward to help him, he took
alphabetical billing.

That's my guy!

Before the announcement was made, Ty and I had sought permission through
Derek and the Department of Defence – for a benefit concert to be held,
and the families of Matthew Burgess and Rodney Maguire had gratefully and
tearfully accepted the offer.  In a meeting arranged by the Minister, Ty
and I spoke to the families on a conference call and we were left in no
doubt that they – and Lachlan – would benefit greatly from the
meeting set ... for tomorrow.

A family confab decided that Lachlan would be introduced to both families
in a meeting room at the Prince Of Wales Hospital and that initially,
Derek, the Minister and I would be present – representing the Department
of Defence and the Hill family respectively – along with a nurse, in
accordance with hospital rules.  Ty, Scott, Dorothy and Frank would wait in
Lachlan's room and would be able to join the gathering towards the end of
the meeting.

While Ty had tour schedules, set lists and media commitments to contend
with, it seemed the majority of his time was devoted to pulling together
the finer details of the benefit concert, determined that it would be an
`event' that would not only crystallize the memories of Lachlan's two
brothers-in-arms, but assist their families in rebuilding their shattered
lives.

With help from my law firm colleagues, I set up a trust fund for the
families and the night before the meeting, Ty quietly told Lachlan that he
had kicked off the fund with an anonymous donation of $50,000 and Lachlan,
still on a rollercoaster of emotions, registered shock and gratitude at the
same time.  "I'll kick in $50,000 too," he said as he and Ty clasped hands.

"No, mate," Ty said.  "The money from my publishing deals is for you to put
a deposit on a house, or buy a good car, or piss off overseas."

Lachlan's eyes suddenly filled with tears and his reaction took Ty by
surprise.  "Please Ty," he wept.  "This is so much more important to me
than a fucking car.  I need to do this ..."

Ty, himself in danger of breaking down, embraced him.  "Fuck, I'm sorry
Lach," he whispered.  "Of course you can.  It's yours to do whatever you
want.  Really, I'm sorry ..."

"So, a hundred thou it is then!" I said, trying to get things back to
normal.  "That's a bloody good start.  I'll check ticket sales tomorrow,
and I reckon they'll be through the roof!"

As the days ticked by, Ty devoted more and more time to making sure the
concert would be a memorable one.  I managed to repay Derek for his
kindness by arranging for him to work one-on-one with Ty in getting
together enough information on Rodney and Matthew to produce a small
brochure to be given to audience members on arrival at the venue, and Ty
oversaw the erection of two video screens that would screen images of the
two men at work and at play, throughout the concert.

Everything was in place by the time the meeting rolled around, and if I had
to pick a moment in my life that truly had a profound impact of me, it was
seeing Matt Burgess and Rod Maguire's widows greet Lance Corporal Lachlan
Hill, their late husbands' comrade and best mate.  So intense was their
group hug that the Minister, Derek and I quickly recognised their need for
privacy and disappeared quietly from the room.

From the hallway, we listened as Lachlan and his mates' families laughed,
cried and laughed some more.  As the half hour mark ticked by we returned
to the room and I was formally introduced to Lydia, the widow of Matt
Burgess, Sandy Maguire, widow of Rod, their children, and the men's'
parents.  I managed to find the right words to say and I was fortunately
put at ease by these incredibly strong people who were simply grateful to
meet Lachlan and to know that he was on the road to recovery.

Dot and Frank were brought in and introduced and finally, Scott and Ty
appeared, with Ty introducing his youngest brother to the families.  Much
fuss was made in thanking Ty for his generosity in staging a concert in
honour of Matt and Rod but Ty, in his typical fashion, halted it by
explaining that it was Scott's idea in the first place, and that he was
deeply honoured to be able to pay tribute to two great men in such a
tangible way.  There were more tears when the wives thanked Ty for singing
at the funerals, and tight, thankful hugs all round when it was time for
the meeting to end.

With the weekend fast approaching and the benefit concert all but sold out,
Ty threw himself headlong into final rehearsals, while squeezing in
last-minute media interviews to promote `Hill Songs', which was still
sitting comfortably at Number One. "Until You Came Along" had already
topped the singles charts, and was still hovering in the Top 5; Ty's record
company was gearing up for the release of `The Close Of The Day' midway
through the tour.

I managed to talk Dot and Frank into staying at Point Piper a few extra
days so that they could see the benefit concert before returning to
Stanthorpe.  They had never seen Ty live in a concert situation, and this
would be the perfect opportunity for them to see him at his very best.
Once it was decided that Ty would open the concert, and close it solo
before being joined by all the performers on stage, I tried to weasel from
him the songs he planned to sing, but he was keeping mum.

On Saturday, Vince arrived early to drive Ty to the airport where they
would fly together to Adelaide, for Sunday's start of the tour, the first
of two nights at Adelaide Entertainment Centre.  I would have loved to have
been with him, but my work commitments didn't allow for another break, and
besides, there was too much going on at home.  I managed to find a few
quiet moments in the garage to say goodbye to Ty, to wish him luck for the
tour and to tell him that I loved him.  That parting kiss?  Something
special ...

Once they were on their way, I had little time to brood.  Just an hour or
so later, an ambulance delivered Lance Corporal Lachlan Hill to the door
and a great fuss was made of him by all.  He managed to convince Dot that
he didn't need to go to bed straight away and that he was sure the doctors
would approve if he sat quietly on the deck and watched the boats for a
while.  It was trickier getting the cold beer past her, but in the end
Frank stepped in and told Dot to "stop mothering the boy".

By Wednesday, George had made sure the household had settled in to a
routine.  Lachlan was set up in his own room and his morning ablutions were
shared between Frank and Scott.  Dot and George had the kitchen under
control and I was back in the office for most of each day.  My only chore
seemed to be taking Scruffy for his nightly walk along the beach.  It was
on these walks that I missed Ty the most; so often we'd stroll along the
sand, shooting the shit and feeling contended in each other's company.
Scott picked up on it after the first couple of days, and took to walking
with me.

I spoke to Ty at least once each day.  I checked online for feedback to the
first of his concerts.  On the second day, the `Adelaide Advertiser' gave
him a great review, calling the show `intimate and friendly' and Ty's voice
`majestic and thrilling'.  I could tell from our chats that he was pleased,
although the reviews were of little consequence to him.  His yardstick was
always how the audiences responded and, he assured me, they were over the
top.

Vince on the other hand was driven by `bums on seats' and when I spoke with
him, he was happy.  Mostly full houses right through until the final
concerts in Brisbane in three weeks time.  I was pleased for Ty when Vince
conceded that the `stripped back' approach that Ty had pushed for was
"working its tits off".  I knew Vince had reservations about taking Ty
outside `arena spectacle' mode but he was nothing if not reasonable.

"The audiences love the acoustic stuff just as much as the anthems," he
enthused down the phone.

"Well, that's what Ty told you all along mate," I chuckled.

"Yeah, but I couldn't see how it was gonna work," he replied.  "But the
proof's in the pudding.  We're gonna record the shows for a live CD.  We'll
probably wait until Sydney so that it's all down pat."

"Great idea, Vince," I said.  "That'll fulfil the three-album deal with the
record company and we can renegotiate for the album after that.  Two
chart-toppers so far puts us in a great position to call the shots."

"I like the way you think!" he chuckled.  "For a lawyer ..."

On Tuesday night, Ty arrived in Melbourne early and spent the day in sound
check ahead of that night's concert at Rod Laver Arena.  Wednesday morning
saw another great review, the critic calling the concert `a triumph' and
singling out many of the tracks from `Hill Songs' as those that benefitted
most from being pared right back.  Over dinner on Wednesday night, I showed
the reviews to Frank, Dot and Scott.  They were pleased for Ty that the
concerts were being so well received, but Dot couldn't help commenting on
the on-stage shot of Ty in Adelaide.

"Those pants he's wearing are very tight," she observed.  "They look a bit
... rude."

I laughed.  "It's all part of the rock star `look', Dot," I said.  "Tight
black pants are expected!"

"But it looks like he's got a pound of sausages down the front!"

"Mum!" exclaimed Scott.  "Ewwww!"

"All I'm saying is they don't need to be that tight, surely?"

"If you've got it, flaunt it!" Scott laughed.

"Scott!"

"Sorry Mum."

On Thursday morning, the tour party arrived in Sydney and while the crew
and the support musicians stayed in tour mode and booked into the
Intercontinental, Ty took a suite there but headed for home, keen to be
around his parents, his brothers and me.

"You sure you should be at home?" I asked, as he nuzzled my neck in the
bathroom on Tuesday after we'd retired for the night.  "Shouldn't you be
keeping your head `in the zone' and falling into the tour routine?"

"I'll do that next week," he promised.  "It just seems stupid to be in
Sydney and staying a hotel room.  I want to be around Lachie as much as I
can.  And of course, I want to have you at my beck and call.  I'm a rock
star, see.  I can just click my fingers and get what I want.  And I want
you ..."

"I hate it when you're on tour," I smirked.  "You get a big head!"

"Well right now, it's my little head that needs attention.  On your knees,
lawyer boy ..."

**********

Another great experience in my life was being able to sit with Dot and
Frank on the first night of Ty's two-night stint at Acer Arena.  I made
sure we did it in style, hiring a car and driver to take us on the one hour
drive to Homebush.  Of course, they overdressed for the occasion, as
country folk are wont to do, and they were clearly in awe of the
`spectacle' that becomes a Tyson Hill concert.

We were there in time for them to look over the merchandise stall, and I
happily bought them a programme each.  I bought Frank a beer and Dot a cup
of coffee and they sat and flicked through the tour booklet, seeing for the
first time photos of their oldest son mesmerizing thousands of adoring
fans.  They smiled and nudged each other each time a punter wandered by
wearing a Tyson Hill tee-shirt or cap.

The experience of sitting with them in the auditorium when the house lights
dimmed was one I'll always remember.  As usual, there was no announcement,
just a simple pin spot that picked Ty up as he sauntered on stage and
started singing "Until You Came Along".  How much I wanted to tell them
what that song was about, but it was probably better left unsaid.

The concert, I could now see, had been carefully planned by Ty and Vince,
and Ty expertly switched from rock anthems to ballads, lifting his audience
up and then bringing them down again, skillfully playing them as he worked
towards the end of the first half, which closed with a spine-tingling
version of "Angels On High".

We sat in our seats during interval and I let Dot and Frank do the talking.
Of course, Ty's pants were "still too tight" and Frank was a bit bewildered
at the screaming ("surely they can't hear him singing above that din?"),
and without doubt, some of the girls in the audience were not dressed
appropriately for a concert ("some of those skirts are just far too
short!").  Worse, they seemed to be "throwing themselves at Tyson".  But
despite their criticisms, their faces were awash with parental pride.
Their boy, I think they were realising for the first time, was a major
star, an idol to thousands of people who responded to the song lyrics that
poured from his heart.

Scott, who'd been watching from backstage for the first half, joined us
just as the lights went down for the second half of the concert.  He was on
his feet and punching the air with his fist as soon as the stage lit up and
Ty ran on to open with a thundering version of "Love On The Rocks" and, for
the next 20 minutes, the joint was rockin' with the anthems everyone knew
by heart from the first album.  Even Dot and Frank stood to clap as "Deep
Inside Of Me" came to an end.

From then, it was a mix of new tracks from `Hill Songs' and some simple
acoustic classics from his childhood; he worked his way through John
Hiatt's "Stood Up", J.J. Cale's "After Midnight" and The Eagles'
"Solitaire".  When he sang his version of Irving Berlin's "Always", I knew
he was singing it for me.  His voice reached out through the audience and
grabbed at my heart; `I'll be loving you, always/With a love that's true,
always/Not for just an hour, not for just a day, not for just a year/But
always ...'.  I was touched when, in the dark as those words poured from
him, his mother reached out and covered my hand with hers.

Building to the finale, Ty sang "The Close Of The Day", his new single, and
ended with a simple but hair-raising version of "Hallelujah", accompanying
himself on the piano.  He left the stage three times during the standing
ovation, and it was clear the audience wanted more.  After a minute or two
of slow-clapping, Ty reappeared and sat on a stool with the battered old
folk guitar – his first – which his parents had given him on his
birthday so many years ago.  He waited for the audience to settle and stop
clapping before he spoke.

"This old guitar," he grinned into the spotlight, "was a present to me from
my Mum and Dad on my 14th birthday."  He broke into a little spontaneous
`Bryan Adams', singing `Got my first real six string, thanks to my mum and
dad, Played it `til my fingers bled, it was the summer of ... 91!" ...

The audience laughed and cheered, while Dot and Frank sat enthralled.  Ty
continued, "You know, I wouldn't actually be sitting here tonight, playing
my songs for you, if it wasn't for my Mum and Dad.  And they're here with
you all tonight, folks ..."

The audience erupted in cheers and while no spotlight was on them, I could
see the blushing in both Dot and Frank's faces.

"Believe it or not," Ty continued, "this is the first time my Mum and Dad
– Dot and Frank Hill – have seen me live in concert!  They're here in
the big smoke and I got to show `em what a fantastic audience Sydney always
is!"

More cheers.

"Now there's my Mum, Dot.  I apologise to any other Mums in the audience,
but my Mum in the best Mum in the world.  How she put up with me ..." he
grinned, adopting a cherubic face, like a little boy, finger under his
chin, "... let alone my two brothers.  And Dad!  The woman deserves a
medal!"

More laughing and scattered applause.  "My youngest brother Scotty's been
backstage with me, and he tells me Mum reckons my pants are too tight!"

I heard Dorothy's little squeal in the dark, as though she couldn't believe
her first-born was talking like this in front of people!  When the applause
died down, he looked at the audience and whispered, "do you think they're
too tight?"

"Noooooo" came the resounding response from several thousand people.

"Nah, didn't think so.  So that's Mum!  And there's my Dad, Frank Hill.
When the guy upstairs was matching up Dads and their sons and he made sure
I was gonna have Frank Hill as my Dad, man, that day I lucked out.  I just
wanna tell you Dad, out there in the dark, I love you and I thank you for
everything you've done for me and my brothers."

I couldn't see it, but I knew tears were rolling down Frank's face, as they
were Scott's.  When the applause stopped, Ty went on, "Before my brothers
Lachlan and Scott came along. I had my Dad all to myself.  He used to say
`it's me and my shadow'.  And when I was sitting on his knee on the porch
at the end of a long day, he'd sing me this old country song he loved.
`They don't make singers like Ned Miller anymore!' he'd say.  And I'd sit
there wondering who the `they' was that `made singers'!

"I can still hear him singing those words to me, clear as day.  And Dad,
tonight it's my turn to sing for you.  This is such a privilege ..."

He strummed an opening chord and then clearly and beautifully sang "He
couldn't move a mountain, or pull down a big ole tree, but my Daddy became
a mighty big man with a simple philosophy ..."

OK, I was strong through "Until You Came Along" and only teared up a little
through "Hallelujah", but the bastard had me with this one.  The bottom lip
started the quiver and one tear started an avalanche.  Next to me, Dorothy
was crying despite the beaming smile on her face.

"Do what you do do well boy, do what you do do well, give your love and all
of your heart and do what you do do well ..."

The simplicity of the chorus made it simple for the audience to sing along
and by the final round, the roof was almost lifted by thousands of people
singing at the top of their voices.

The audience stood as one as Ty took his bows.  He milked it of course –
couldn't help himself! – but as the applause died down, he thanked his
audience and then turned, held out his arms in the directed of his parents
and added, "and thank you Mum and Dad".  And by obvious pre-arrangement
with the lighting guys, a bright white spotlight fell on his parents, and
the audience erupted again.

The look on Dot and Frank's faces as we filed out of the auditorium was
almost as enjoyable to me as the concert had been.  They were puffed with
pride, and clearly loving being stopped by audience members who were
congratulating them.  "Tyson Hill rocks!" they were constantly told.  "You
must be proud," others said.  In the foyer, they were asked twice to pose
for photographs.

"I was even asked to sign someone's programme," said Frank, shaking his
head.  "Dorothy, you couldn't have looked more like the Queen if you had
gloves on!" he guffawed.

"Well your Majesties," I said.  "Your limousine awaits to take us back to
the Palace.  But first, a quick visit to the Prince backstage?"

"Yes, dear," Dorothy agreed.  "But we mustn't stay too long.  He needs to
get home and into bed.  He'll be very tired, what with all that jumping
around."

"Now don't start mothering the boy," Frank admonished.  But then his face
lit up again.  "One woman said to me back there that she could see where
Tyson got his good looks from!"

"Good for you Frank!" Dorothy smiled.  "I had two young things give me
their photos with their phone numbers on the back, asking me to put in a
good word for them with Tyson!"

Scott giggled.  "Good luck with that one, Mum!"

The backstage meeting was a quick one.  Hugs all round, and a touching
embrace between father and son when Ty assured his Dad, "I meant every
word, Dad."  As we left, I looked back at Ty, who mouthed "love you".

Back home, Dot and Frank were too wound up to go to bed, so we all sat on
the couch with cups of tea as they relived every moment of the concert for
the benefit of George, who hadn't been there.  He was as amused as we were
by their take on rock concerts, now that – having been to one - they
were experts.

"I still think Tyson's pants are too tight," announced Dorothy, out of the
blue.

Frank was quick to agree.  "They're indecent!" he harrumphed.  "You can see
which side he's dressing on!"

"Come on Dad," Scott chuckled.  "Get with it.  It's the `look'.  That's why
they call it `Cock Rock!'"

"Scott Hill!"

"Sorry Mum!"

**********

The second night, Dot and Frank stayed home with Lachlan, and Scott and I
were able to treat George to `An Evening With Tyson Hill', definitely the
best seats in the house.  George politely tapped his way through the first
half of the concert, but gave in to his rock `n roll self after interval
– and a glass of house red – and was on his feet more than he was on
his seat.

The concert was much the same as the previous night, with one special
touch.  In place of the tribute to his father the previous night, he sat on
his stool and devoted his final song to "the one true love of my life".
Unaccompanied, he crooned his way though Van Morrison's "Have I Told You
Lately (That I Love You)?"  Yes, he had!  And later that night, in the wee
small hours of the next day in fact, he showed me how much.

Day 3 in Sydney started like most others.  Breakfast, phone calls, `to do'
lists and more phone calls.  It was the morning of the benefit concert and
Ty was in full action mode as he made sure that everything was in place to
guarantee this night would be a winner.  He was much more hands-on with the
detail of this one concert than I'd seen him when faced with a full tour,
such was his determination to do his brother and the families of his fallen
mates proud.

I didn't need a crystal ball to know the benefit concert would be a
resounding success.

But it would have been handy to prepare me for the clicketty-clak sound of
Dot's needles as she applied herself to the task of knitting ... booties
...

**********

Always happy to have your feedback.  marcusis32@live.com.au