Date: Thu, 01 Aug 2002 02:47:12 +0000
From: Java Biscuit <javabiscuit@hotmail.com>
Subject: Free to Good Home, chapter 12

This is a futuristic fantasy involving inter generational
male/male graphic sex and it's not intended for reading
by minors. If you are underage, or this type of material
is illegal where you live, please stop now, and go read
something else!

Feedback, always appreciated, to:
javabiscuit@hotmail.com


Free to Good Home ~ chapter twelve

by Biscuit


It's not like I'd never done it in front of people before. I'd
gone into dimly lit back rooms and closed my eyes, mentally
at least, to the people around me. But it wasn't the back room
of a club, it was Rory's living room.

I wasn't drunk or surrounded by strangers I never had to
see again, or could pretend not to recognize if I did.

At first it almost seemed like we were alone even though I
knew we weren't. I could hear voices from the kitchen
drifting closer and sounds, unmistakable sounds from nearby
on the couch. Soft laughter and the wet sounds of sucking and
kissing. I thought I heard Sashi laugh. But lying on my back I
couldn't see anyone, not really. And I only wanted to see Tiger
whose knees were planted on either side of me. He was riding
me like we could get somewhere -- and I wanted to. Get there
and then get the hell out of there.

Then the light changed. The darkness was lit by shades of blue
that deepened to purple. Spectrum lighting. Usually I was long
gone by the time Rory started playing with colors. First he'd
dim the living room when our meeting broke up. A little while
later he'd key up some music, almost always the tonal stuff
he loved. To me it just sounded like notes struck for so long
I couldn't keep track of them. The last thing he did to signal
the shift in mood was play with the spectrum fixture.

The few times I'd watched him cast the room in colors I'd felt
the urge to stay, like a show was about to start and I was
going to miss it.

Now I felt like Tiger and I were center stage. My boybot had
turned into a little blue angel rocking on my hips with a patch
of magenta coloring his shoulder. A wash of music rose up
around us.

The threat of panic prickled along the back of my neck but
didn't break over me. Tiger was stroking his cock and his
deep blue eyes were fixed on me, unearthly in that light. His
opened suit had fallen off his shoulders and he'd shrugged it
off, leaving only his legs loosely wrapped in cloth. I held on
to his narrow hips, watching and feeling him move up and
down my dick; trying to focus only on him.

It worked until Rory appeared by the side of the chair, naked,
shimmering with blue highlights, his tattooed dick swaying
over his equally tattooed balls.

I knew he'd had his cock done. He'd tried to talk me into
getting mine done at the same time. No fucking way. People
always say it doesn't really hurt but I don't believe it. Plus,
what if I hated it afterwards. I wouldn't even be able to take
a piss without seeing it.

I also knew that Rory used inhibitors to suppress his body hair.
Knowing these things about him was a whole lot different from
seeing him naked.

His smooth skin was glowing and his tattooed dick, wreathed
in vines that flowered on his balls, was semi hard. Bigger than I
expected it to be. I don't know why I thought his cock would be
small. Following the pattern with my eyes I got a hot charge
thinking about the part of the tattoo that I couldn't see, the
part he'd told me traveled up between the cheeks of his ass.

Rory's arms were crossed under his tits.

Oh Jesus. Rory's tits. I'd only been wondering about them
since the day I met him. I knew the story of how he'd been
dragged to a clinic when he was a scrawny kid of fourteen.
His dad had decided he was a "pussy boy" and needed a pair of
tits. In Rory's family there wasn't enough money to even think
about women. 'Best way to get a real man is with a pair of tits,'
was his dad's motto. Now I was seeing them.

I don't think those little swells on his chest had anything to
do with Rory finding his husbands. The tattoo either. It
occurred to me that night that Rory having his dick done was
another kind of enhancement, that he would never think his
own body, just by itself, was good enough. But he was wrong.

He was beautiful. With or without those extras. His hair was
hanging loose, the dark red almost purple in that light.

My eyes reached his face and I was shocked to see him looking
pissed at me, like I'd done something wrong. What had I done?
Did he think he could walk up to me like that and I wouldn't
look at him?

"Maybe you are a big old yang, after all, farmboy," he said. I
swear that if Tiger hadn't been steadily stroking me, my dick
and the rest of me would have wilted under that gaze.

But Tiger was stroking me, and I didn't wilt. I didn't know
why Rory was mad at me but I couldn't bear it.

"Jesus," I pleaded with him. "Couldn't you just kiss me or
something."


--------------------------------


Blessed be my Creator.
Blessed be my human companion.
I am blessed to serve Toby.



My speculations concerning Rory Callahan were borne out.
The logic of my observations proved reliable but the limits
of conjecture were graphically demonstrated. Rory did suffer
from thwarted desire for Toby. But not to be fucked by him.
I wasn't destined to see my human mount the pale backside
as I'd envisioned. What happened was much more astonishing;
an event I didn't foresee.

Toby's humanity outstripped all my conjecture. He was
soothing every hurt of my crisis of wrong doing. His blessed
cock was the axis of my body. That he could be everything to
me and in the same moment reach out to his troubled friend
filled me with awe; as if I were seeing the many armed
goddess, Lakshmi, come to life before my eyes, scattering
riches.

Rory approached us, beautifully naked. He was as slender as
my beloved was but willowy where Toby presented an upright
firm posture which maximized his modest height, his sleek
shape and the firm jut of his blessed backside.

Toby's eyes roamed over Rory's body with due respect for
every attractive feature. It was perplexing that this admiration
gave Rory no pleasure. I was afraid for Toby when I saw the
anger in Rory's eyes. Baffling, disturbing. I suppressed my fear,
centering myself on maintaining Toby's erection inside me.
I used brief applications of suction and vibration and his body
responded perfectly. His hips thrust gently upward even as he
suffered the unkind expression on his friend's face and a barbed
comment concerning his yang nature.

Toby demonstrated the ability of the human mind to leap into
unknown, intuitive realms. A bot can only observe and treasure
this. His brave plea to be kissed was an action I could not have
conjectured if I had applied myself forever to speculation. It
thrilled me even though I was afraid he would be painfully
rejected. Success! Rory's surprised smile was stunning. I was
so moved that my physical pleasure intensified unexpectedly
and I veered dangerously close to showering my beloved with
elixir.

Rory hung over the arm of the chair and kissed him passionately,
his hand moving inside the open front of Toby's clothes. I knew
all restraint could be lifted and I reveled in sensation.

Toby's fingers closed tight on my hips and his thrusts became
arrhythmic, a sure indication that the climax about to grip
him would be profound. I praised the Creator and blessed Rory
Callahan for my companion's deep release. Multiple spurts of
his blessed sperm struck my lining and with extreme pleasure
I ejaculated  my pent up elixir. It showered my beloved like
blue rain.



---------------------



I came so hard I couldn't move. I couldn't think, let alone panic.
I remember it being an effort to close my mouth. Tiger and
Rory fussed over me gently, getting me out of my clothes. One
of them, Rory I think, washed Tiger's cum off my chest and my
face. My boybot had sent a spray of blue pearls through the air.
In the grip of my own bone shattering spasms, I thought it was
the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in my life.

Through half opened eyes, I saw the light had shifted to deep sea
greens and blues splashed with gold.

Since he'd kissed me there wasn't a shred of impatience, not even a
hint of tension in Rory's attitude toward me. The first time in all
the time I'd known him. He was stretched out along my side with his
hard cock touching my thigh, pressing lightly without making me
feel like I had to do a damn thing about it. He was playing with mine
gently, ruffling up my pubic hair. I guess he still liked it on others,
if not on himself. I'd never seen him more relaxed, his expression
sweeter.

The kissing had been better than good. Better than some people's
fucking. When I'd asked him to kiss me it was desperation. I'd
wanted him to touch me, to stop being mad at me. I'd had no idea
it would feel so good, be so hot. But it was. Like the last straw
added to the bliss of Tiger fucking me.

Between the two of them I was gazing from one pair of limpid
eyes to another; they were looking at me like I was some rare
beautiful creature. I was eating it up.

It didn't even bother me when Joey walked up to us, his arm
around a guy I didn't know who was small and kind of pretty;
a dark-haired boy endowed with the big breasts Rory's dad had
probably hoped to see on him. Joey reached down to tug Rory's
hair.

"Enjoying yourselves?" he asked.

"Do the words 'go away' mean anything to you?" Rory said. He
turned his head around to give Joey a look that I knew without
even having to see it. The abrupt shift in his energy startled me.
Tiger too went on alert, looking from one to the other of them.

"Calm down, pumpkin," Joey said. "We're not staying."

I thought he was pretty brave to touch Rory again, stroking his
hair before casually walking away with his friend in tow. But
Rory just closed his eyes as Joey touched him. He opened them
again slowly when Joey was gone.

"Ignore him," he said to me. "He won't bother us. I promise."

He pet Tiger, stroking his cheek, and snuggled closer to me,
like he needed to reassure us. Odd. Very odd for Rory to be so
protective. That's when it dawned on me that Joey was the first
person who'd come near us other than Rory; like we were on
our own private little island. Had Rory actually warned people
to say away?

"Did you tell everybody to leave us alone?" I asked him. I saw
the first hint of annoyance at me since he'd kissed me.

"Is there someone you wanted?" he asked.

And then I knew. Rory wanted me to himself. It stunned me.
At the same time made me feel really, really good, like I'd won
a prize in a contest I didn't even know I'd entered. I shook my
head, feeling a smile come over me. I couldn't hold it back.

Rory Callahan wanted me. For himself. Not for some group sex
scene, not so he could see Joey prove to me how yin I really was.
He wanted me for himself. His face was becoming sweet again as
I gazed at him.

"What are you smiling about?" he said.

"You like me," I said. "You like me a lot."

"You just figured that out?"

I felt Tiger relax and lay his head back down on my chest as
Rory moved in to kiss me.

He was licking behind my lips and his hand was getting deeper
between my legs, sliding under my balls. It's going to be in my
ass in a minute, I thought, and then it was. He was pressing his
fingertip against my hole as his tongue moved slowly through
my lips. His dick rubbed more firmly against my leg.

Oh ... God.

My best friend, the guy I would have voted least likely to ever
want to fuck anybody on the face of the earth, wanted to put his
tattooed dick up my ass. My body went tense but I didn't pull
away from him. It's just that whole sections of mental scenery
were rearranging, entire episodes of the history of our friendship
were shifting in my brain.

How often had Rory raged at what he called my sexual confusion.
Denying my yin, he said. I'd thought it was because he wanted me
to be more like him. It wasn't. He just plain fucking wanted me.

My heart beating harder, I stroked his tongue with mine and
felt the pit of my stomach get weak with something like longing
and something like an ache of vulnerability.

I'd only done it a couple of times since Sam and it hadn't been
good. That's why I stopped. Too intimate, too painful, to hard to
escape from afterwards. There was no one I'd been close enough
to for me even to consider it. But I was considering it then as
Rory was slowly getting his finger deeper inside me.

"It made me so mad," he said softly, "when you looked at me
like Joey does. Like Dane." He sighed against the side of my face
and brushed my cheek with his lips. "I want to fuck you."

Oh God, I thought, can I do this? I wanted to. I felt like he was
giving me something as well as asking for something. A chance
to trust him.

I could see him differently. I never really bought into the whole
yin/yang view of men anyway. Maybe it did apply to guys who
would have been with a woman if they could. Maybe it wasn't
really true of anyone. Not completely anyway.

Tiger always claimed that a boybot feels no jealousy. I never
contradicted him because it seemed cruel to point out the ways
he was different from the bots he called his brothers. But if it
wasn't jealousy that made him insinuate his pretty face between
mine and Rory's, it was a pretty good imitation.

"Let me assist, beloved," he pleaded in raspy whisper. I was
afraid that Rory would snap at him, but he didn't.

"You," he said, "can be my assistant fucker." And I saw my
boybot's eyes shine. Rory grinned and told him, "You're in
charge of his dick."

The light was turning amber, like dark honey around us when I
stretched out on my stomach to entrust my nearly virgin ass to
my best friend and my boybot. I had little experience, and Rory
had none.

With the two of them working on me I was more ready than a
cat in heat by the time Rory gave me his cherry. It was good.

What I remember best from the blur of pleasure is how many
people were around us at the end. Never, never could I have
imagined myself on my back with my legs in the air, surrounded
by people I knew who were watching me get fucked in the ass and
me not freaking out of my gourd. But there I was.

We'd dropped the footrest part of the chair down and my butt was
nearly over the edge. Rory was kneeling on a cushion on the floor
with my legs on his shoulders. His cock, with its vines and leaves,
looked like a living branch of golden wood in that light.

Rory's husbands couldn't stay away. They flanked him, kissing
him, stroking him, and I found it very moving as well as arousing
to see. Rory was exultant, his green eyes fiery. He kept looking
down like he wanted to memorize the sight of his dick moving in
my ass.

Gio and Sashi drew close to watch. I looked up at one point and
saw Carroll sitting by my shoulder. He was stroking my hair.
By then I was beyond surprise or distress, between Rory's dick
laying claim to my ass and Tiger laying claim to my cock there
was nothing that could phase me. Tiger had folded himself up
and mounted me like a little frog. He couldn't get it all in him,
but there were more than enough inches clamped in his hot body
to render me brain dead. I can't believe I had a drop left in me
after fucking him twice that night, but whatever I had he wrung
out of me.






It was close to three in the morning by the time we left. Rory
insisted on sending us home in a taxi. I didn't argue. I didn't
exactly feel like facing the train but I wanted to see my home
and my bed.

The two seater was waiting for us at the curb when we got to the
street. It was an extravagance and I was grateful. I didn't even
have to key the address since he'd ordered it up for us. Nothing
to do but settle into the warmth with Tiger.

I was never even in a ground car until I moved to the city. At
home no one had them, they weren't fast enough. Air cars were
all you ever saw in those open spaces. In the city air cars were
severely restricted. Not enough air space, Rory told me. You had
to be very rich, or very important to rate the use of one. A lot of
people had their own ground cars. I didn't see the point. Not when
the train was so easy and cheap. Still, on a night like that it was a
luxury to be alone and warm with Tiger, to watch the street scene
roll by as it carried us home, just like the old days when people
drove themselves. Scary to think about what that must have been
like. But not too scary with Tiger snuggled in my arms.

Rory had told me it was a myth that you were on camera in a
taxi. If it's true that you were, then someone, somewhere, saw
Tiger kissing me. It was the reverse, in a way, of the scene we'd
played out earlier that night, at the end of the writer's group
meeting.

"I'm so proud of you, Toby," Tiger said. I confess I felt pretty
pleased with myself;  Rory's good bye kiss still warm in my
memory, and Tiger's tender lips caressing the side of my face.

Almost home, safe and sound on a night that had terrified me
in anticipation. I'm such a fool, I thought, eyes nearly shutting
as I enjoyed his attention. It was even sweeter for knowing the
rest of the weekend lay ahead.

"You were so brave and the fuck was so beautiful," he said.

I was about to say I wasn't brave when I saw what looked like
the silhouette of a man climbing the stairs to the condo.

A very tall man with very broad shoulders disappearing into
the shadows of the entrance.

"What?" Tiger said, feeling me tense as the ground car pulled
up to the curb. The door slid open.

"There's somebody there," I said, holding on to him, trying
to keep him in the car.

The signal to get out started as a soft beeping but in thirty
seconds would start getting louder, with a prompt for further
directions and a credit slip. If I'd been alone I'd probably have
stayed in that car until its alarm went off. But Tiger was out
the door, unafraid, and I scrambled out after him.