Date: Mon, 20 Sep 2004 11:31:39 -0700
From: fritz@nehalemtel.net
Subject: I Love Corey, Chapter Twenty-five

	The fact that this story was only supposed to be six to eight
chapters long presents a problem.  Mind you, its not that I mind writing
the story.  It's just these damned disclaimers and warnings that are such a
drag.  If I were sure the readers had a good memories I would omit it but
as I can't remember my own name half the time I suppose I need to.
Therefore...
	If you are under legal age get your ass out of here and don't come
back.  I'll have to be honest and say I don't care if you read the story
but there are all kinds of narrow minded people that do care and they will
disapprove of your reading it.  If you do stick around to see what all the
fuss is about, don't tell.  That way those people won't know and can't
complain.
	Since this story contains descriptions of sex between males, in
fact between a youth and an adult, please leave if that offends you.  I
will admit to being puzzled why you would stay after being so warned but
sometimes people surprise me.
	I had a really strange dream when I was awake and this story is the
result.  That makes it fiction and as such all character are fictitious.
They do not resemble anyone living or dead.  If you think they do, you're
wrong.
	Moving right along.  This story is posted for your enjoyment only.
At least I hope you enjoy it.  However, you may not post it on another site
without my permission nor may you use it for any purpose that might advance
your career, gain you any revenue, or in general make people think better
of you than they already do.  How that might be accomplished by the use of
this story is beyond my comprehension.
	Once again thanks to Ernie.  His tireless and faithful editing is
deeply appreciated.  Without it, the story would of poorer quality, that is
if you think there is any quality to it in the first place.  Please
remember, even Ernie can't make a silk purse out of the proverbial sow's
ear.
	Feel free to email with whatever comments, complaints, suggestions,
or questions you might have.  I try to answer all such emails.  If you
don't get an answer in a few days you can assume I didn't get it.  I must
remind you to put the story title in the subject line of the email or I
flat guarantee that I will delete it.  All such emails should be sent to
fritz@nehalemtel.net I hope you enjoy the following.  Fritz

	I Love Corey, Chapter Twenty-five.

	Our breathing slowed and finally we both regained enough control
and strength to do more than just lie there.  Corey decided to roll off of
me.  He just rolled off and onto my right arm.  The sticky semen that had
been trapped between us formed little strands between us, kind of like a
weak spider web.  There was a bunch of mine in his pubs and his was pooling
in my navel.
	Now that he was no longer on me, I could feel the sweat and semen
cooling.  It was somewhat uncomfortable.  Since he was on my arm I had no
way to move enough to reach the towel we kept by the bed.
	"Think you can reach the towel Corey?" I asked.
	"How about we see if we can lick each other clean?" he replied.
	That sounded like a good idea.  We'd have to be careful so it
didn't run off during our efforts at cleanup.
	It took a while before we'd managed to remove the evidence of our
fun.  I must admit to liking his warm tongue better than a towel.  Besides,
it got into my navel better.  By the same token, his taste made my task
more pleasant.  All in all it was a very nice way to remove the evidence.
	By the time we each finished our respective duties, I noticed that
there appeared to be a pretty good chance of enjoying round two.  By now
those blue eyes were sparkling and he had a smirk on his face.
	"Wanna try again?"
	The smirk turned into a truly evil grin as he said, "Want to, the
correct expression is want to."
	"Hey, I'm the teacher here."  I guess he had the right to criticize
my English.  I'd done it enough times to him.
	"What are you going to teach me?" he asked, trying to make his
voice sexy and seductive.
	By now we were both giggling at each other.
	"I think you need to learn everything.  Maybe I ought to start by
teaching you how to kiss."
	His reaction was immediate.  He quickly turned onto his side and
began kissing me.  I don't know why I'd suggested that.  Hell, by now he
could give me lessons about kissing.  I don't know if he could teach anyone
else but I'd take any lessons he was willing to give me.  He seemed more
than willing to do that very thing.
	Of course as soon as we started kissing we got the usual results.
Things immediately became hard.  I'll have to admit they didn't have that
far to go as we were both about halfway there when we started.
	You know, it's amazing.  I mean here we were, kissing, and soon our
bodies just sort of automatically took over.  I was so busy kissing Corey
and being kissed by him that I didn't have time to think but my body needed
no input from my brain.  My hand just seemed to naturally find its way to
that lovely cock of his.  I have no idea if he had to think of what he was
doing but his hand soon found mine.  We continued to kiss and enjoy that
kissing and our respective hands needed no guidance.  They soon started
doing what hands have done to cocks since time began.  He had an advantage
as he could use his right hand while I had to use my left but I am getting
better at being more ambidextrous.
	Things might have been a little awkward because we were on our
sides but somehow our arms managed to find a way to accomplish what they
wanted to without breaking up our kissing.  Sure, at first our arms kept
bumping into each other's but soon we worked that problem out and the
pleasure from stroking hands added to that emanating from our kissing.
Talk about a pleasure overload.  It's a good thing that our bodies were
able to go on by themselves because I know I was so wrapped up in my
happiness stemming from Corey's kissing that I could in no way have managed
to do anything that required any direction from my mind.  All I could do
was enjoy him and the feelings he was making happen in my mind and body.
	It didn't seem like it took very long before we each reached that
little piece of heaven that is shared by two people at times like this.
All I can say is it was good, really really good.
	When we calmed down enough to again become aware of our
surroundings, of course we noticed that the bed was no longer something one
wanted to sleep in.  We had a choice.  We could change the sheets, throw a
towel over the mess, or move to Corey's room and bed.  We did none of the
above.  We fell asleep while trying to decide.  After all, we had been in
bed for a couple of hours making love to each other and we were tired.
That fact and the release and relaxation that fellows great sex were just
too much for us.  In fact the next thing I remember is waking up, stuck to
the sheets or maybe I should say the sheets were stuck to me.  Whatever.
You get the idea.
	I managed to get the crusty sheets loose and head for the bathroom.
A racehorse had nothing on me.  Corey was right behind me, I suppose for
the same reason, and we lined up side by side.  We both had the usual
problem which consisted of trying to get a certain part of our anatomies to
cooperate and point in the proper direction.  He managed to start first and
the sound of his stream hitting the bowl caused mine to start flowing.
Blessed relief.
	Now one might think that having had a shower the preceding night
would mean that one did not need one in the morning.  I suppose that might
be true under some circumstances but certainly didn't apply to us this
morning.  Corey's somewhat sparse pubic hair was a matted mess.  Then I
noticed mine was the same way.  We both stunk of stale sex.  I suppose one
might say the evidence of the preceding night's activities was more than
somewhat obvious.
	I got the shower started and as soon as the water warmed up we
stepped in.  While it was a great shower, we each spent a lot of time
washing the other, neither of us was quite ready for more than a shower.
Instead it consisted of a lot of touching and rubbing and no, there was
very little rubbing of that part.  By the time we finished we both were
nice and hungry.
	Since it was the weekend, we decided to go out for breakfast.
After all, we didn't have to get to school on time so there was nothing
stopping us from taking all the time we wanted.  There was a nice mom and
pop restaurant called Marie's that made their hotcakes from scratch and
even boiled potatoes to make their own hash-browns.  None of those frozen
ones that aren't worth eating.  While we didn't eat out all that often,
Corey really liked it when we went there for breakfast.  His only complaint
was that the glasses of orange juice needed to be bigger.
	It shouldn't have surprised me when he ordered ham and eggs along
with a short stack of hotcakes.  None-the-less, it did.  I mean, how could
he possibly hold a big slice of ham, two eggs, hash-browns, two slices of
toast, along with two hotcakes that would have filled me up by themselves?
I ordered sausage and eggs and knew that there would be about half of the
hash-browns left when I was full.  If I tried to eat as much as he did I
soon would be unable to get through a door.  Kids.  Bottomless pits.
	When we were finished, I wondered if we ought to go take a nap.  We
hadn't gotten as much sleep as we usually did because we'd spent the
previous evening engaged in activities that we both loved.  He had cheered
up and that relaxed me.  I really felt good.  I mean after all, why
shouldn't I.  The team had just completed a perfect season, Corey was once
again his usual cheerful self, we were sexually sated, and there was
nothing we really had to do.  Why wouldn't I feel good?
	Well, we didn't get the nap.  That's probably just as well as who
knows what we might have ended up doing in bed.  After all, the sheets
still needed changing.  We decided to clean house.  There were the sheets
that needed washing, dirty clothes that needed the same and the usual
vacuuming and dusting that always seemed to be waiting to be done.  Grrrrr.
I hate house work.  If they ever invent a self-cleaning house I'll be at
the head of the line to buy one.  I don't care what it costs.
	Corey and I were just finishing up when Vern showed up.  That
called for a break and a cup of coffee.  His reason was to give me a check
for seven hundred and forty-three dollars that he'd gotten from the sale of
some more of the tools.  I didn't know what to do.  I didn't need the money
but I was sure Nancy wouldn't settle for anything short of my accepting it.
We sat and discussed it for a while.  Finally we agreed that we'd think
about it for a while and then pick a charity to give the money to.  Vern
insisted that there would be quite a lot more money as he didn't have room
for all of the tools and besides, he didn't want some of them.
	After that, it was time to load some ammunition.  We were going to
a trap shoot tomorrow to see if there might be a shotgun for sale that
would be appropriate for Corey.  While it was getting late in the season
for big shoots, this one usually had a pretty decent turnout.  That meant
that there was a fair chance that there might be one that could be
restocked to fit him.  We'd just have to take a look and see.
	Bob Asher was feeling guilty.  He'd been eating at our place so
much that he had insisted that we go out to dinner with him.  I tried to
talk him out of it as I didn't mind cooking but was unsuccessful.  That
meant we had to be ready to go at six-thirty.  Bob hadn't told us where he
had in mind but I figured it would be acceptable as I'd learned he liked
good food.  He had said the dress was casual.
	When Bob showed up we were ready.  Corey had on a pair of slacks
with a nice shirt and I was dressed the same.  Bob surprised us as he was
wearing jeans and a sport shirt.  Where we might be going I didn't know but
the dress code was a little more casual than I'd expected.
	Without giving us any idea of where we might be going Bob started
driving.  He headed out of town in a direction that puzzled me.  I knew of
no restaurants in the direction we were traveling.  Corey had managed to
get the shotgun seat and I was in the back of Bob's minivan just listening
to Corey pepper Bob with questions as to where we were going.  Bob never
gave him a clue.  He just kept driving.
	About twelve miles out of town he turned into a bed and breakfast.
I'd known it was there but had no idea you could dine at it.  It was a big
old farm house that was beautifully landscaped.  I'd never met the owners
although I had heard of them.
	Bob escorted us in and introduced us.  It was apparent that Bob
know the couple well.  Ronald and Martha Springer looked to be in their mid
fifties and were so open and friendly that it wasn't long before we felt
right at home.  The first thing the Springer's did was offer us a drink and
Bob and I ordered the same thing, a margarita.  I was somewhat surprised
that Corey was not asked what he would like but didn't feel that it would
be proper to mention it.  Ronald retired to the bar and started mixing the
drinks.  When he served them I was very surprised when he handed Corey a
small version of the same thing.  I really wondered if he'd like it.  To my
knowledge all he'd ever experienced was the wine served with the meals at
my place.
	As we sat, sipping our drinks and getting acquainted I watched
Corey out of the corner of my eye.  He took a little sip and seemed to
think about it for a few seconds.  Then he grinned and took another.  Good
Lord, I wondered if I'd have to stock up on tequila.
	As we visited I learned that the Springers had been all over the
world.  He had been in the Diplomatic service and been stationed in several
foreign countries.  Bob had become acquainted with him through his son.
One of Bob's sons had attended college with Jeff Springer and it wasn't
long before a friendship had grown between the families.
	After about a half hour Martha announced that dinner was ready.
Corey had finished his drink and looked like he was trying to figure out
how to ask for another.  Her announcement saved me from forbidding that.
While I had no problem with limited amounts of alcohol, I didn't think that
one should consume very much at a time.  My personal limit was no more than
two drinks before dinner and wine with the meal.  I much preferred to only
have one drink but if the situation warranted would have the second.  I'd
never thought of offering Corey a cocktail but hadn't objected as his drink
had only been half the size of ours and ours weren't that big.
	Martha had prepared a marvelous dinner.  There was a small bowl of
the best onion soup I'd ever experienced followed by an unusual but
delicious salad.  The salad led to the main course which was Cornish game
hens stuffed with mushrooms and wild rice.  The finishing touch was a
raspberry sorbet which was ambrosia.  It took us almost two hours to get
through the meal but if we'd gone any faster none of us would have been
able to hold it all.  Martha was clearly a master chef.
	Corey had his problems with the meal.  In the first place the
conversation was a little over his head as the Springers had traveled
widely and been exposed to many cultures and customs.  They were used to
entertaining and were relaxed and gracious hosts.  However Corey had never
been exposed to many of the things they talked about.  His second problem
was how to handle the game hen.  I mean, there it was, beautifully
presented on his plate.  His problem was how to get the meat off and eat
it.  We happened to be talking when they were first served and continued
talking for a couple of minutes.  He didn't want to make a fool of himself
so he just sat there, trying to figure out how to get the meat off the
carcass.  When we finished the subject under discussion we turned our
attention to the meal.  That was when I noticed him looking at the hen.  I
suddenly understood what his problem was.  Every time he tried to get some
meat off, the whole thing either stayed on the fork or he came away with an
empty fork.  I never missed a beat.  I just held the bird with one hand
while I used the fork to remove morsels of it.  I mean it's like eating
ribs; you have to use your fingers.  A knife and a fork just don't work
sometimes.  Yes, you could get some with a knife and fork but clearly not
all of the meat.  As soon as he saw the rest of us busily tearing the meat
off, he joined in and enjoyed his dinner.  I enjoyed mine too.  If I'd been
able to find a restaurant that served food this good I wondered what the
bill would be.
	As we were sitting in the living room and enjoying an after dinner
cup of coffee, Corey noticed a painting on the wall.  When he inquired, he
learned that Martha had painted it.  That was the last I saw of him for the
rest of the evening.  Martha grabbed his hand and quickly led him to her
studio.
	While I always enjoy talking with Corey, it was nice to carry on a
conversation with adults about things an adult is interested in.  Ronald,
Bob, and I discussed world affairs and politics, something that Corey know
very little about and cared even less about.  Since Ronald had served
abroad, he was knowledgeable about foreign governments and also took a real
interest in domestic affairs.  We spent about forty-five minutes exchanging
views before Corey and Martha returned.
	Corey was beaming and Martha was acting like she had found a new
son.  They seemed to have developed a great relationship.  I really hated
to break things up but it was past his bed time.
	Corey was again riding shotgun and he couldn't seem to stop telling
Bob what a great dinner it had been.
	"I guess I know where my cooking rates," I interjected.
	Total silence suddenly overtook him.  He couldn't see my smirk.
I'm surprised his brain didn't explode while he tried to figure out what to
say next.  You could almost see heat waves rising from his head he was
thinking so hard.  I'd have probably gotten away with it if I hadn't
started to snicker.  That was when he realized I'd been pulling his leg.
	"You're mean!" he snarled.  About then Bob couldn't help himself.
He joined me in laughter.  The rest of the trip was spent in laughter and
joking with each other.  Bob did tell me that the Springers would cater
meals if they didn't happen to have guests and when he told me the cost of
the meal I was shocked.  I almost asked him to turn around so I could book
them and invite all my friends.  It had only cost him twenty-five dollars a
plate for a meal that would have been at least seventy-five in any
restaurant by the time you figured in the drinks.  Also, for seventy-five
dollars I doubt that the food would have even been close to comparing in
quality.  He also explained that he had told them that I allowed Corey wine
with meals and he supposed that was why they gave him a drink.  After that
comment nothing would do but that we grill Corey on his impression of the
drink.  It was just as I feared, I was going to have to replenish my supply
of tequila.  Maybe we could go to Disneyland and I could drive on down and
get some.  Not that it wasn't available in the stores but it was such a
bargain in Mexico.
	By the time we finally got in the house it was late.  In fact so
late that we just headed for bed.  I mean after all, he was just shy for
fourteen and needed his sleep.  Sleep however was delayed.  We wound up
discussing the drink he had and alcohol use in general.  I explained that I
thought that one should be careful about the amount and place where one
consumed it.  Also that one should never drive when one has consumed enough
to have any effect on one's ability to drive.  I wasn't completely finished
when his answers had turned into soft grunts.  He was in his favorite
position with his head on my chest when I finally gave up.  I was sure he
wasn't really listening and was only grunting from reflex.  I'd just have
to remember to finish this talk some other time.  Besides, it was getting
difficult to concentrate on what I was saying.
	When I again became aware of my surroundings things were
interesting.  He was spooned against my back, his right arm draped across
my body and his hand was wrapped around I'll let you guess what.  Needless
to say I enjoyed it.  Add to that the fact that I could feel his cock in
the crack of my ass and I have to admit that this was a great way to wake
up.
	Normally our positions were reversed.  Apparently he had learned
from those times.  It didn't take long for his gentle stroking and humping
to, shall I say, bring me up to speed.
	The feel of his warm breath on the back of my neck, coupled with
his exploring fingers did much to drive away the cobwebs.  Any that weren't
destroyed by that were banished by the slow humping going on in my crack.
I was enjoying it so much I couldn't figure out what to do.
	"Ummmm, that's nice."
	"You like it."  From the tone of his voice it really wasn't a
question.  He knew I more than liked it.  I loved it.  He continued his
stroking of my cock.
	While I would have liked to pee, this was much better and much more
important.  The only thing that was wrong was that I couldn't reach him to
return the favor.  As I was trying to figure out what to do, he increased
his grip slightly and all such thoughts were immediately gone.  All I could
do was just lie there and let him do whatever he wanted.  I was so lost in
love and the sensations he was producing that I had no response.  I'd once
heard that if rape was inevitable you should just lay back and enjoy it.
This wasn't rape but I definitely was enjoying it.
	His grip again tightened and he also started gently gnawing at that
place where your neck joins your body, you know, that place where the one
vertebra seems a little more prominent.  The feel of his teeth gently
scraping, and the grip and movement of his hand was rapidly producing the
approach of the end.  I knew I was close.  I could feel my feet curl and
wondered if I could hold out a little longer.
	I tried to wait but he increased his grip a little more and it was
no use.  I no longer had any control over my body.  I could feel my back
arch and the start of that exquisite feeling that occurs at times like
this.  Damn, we'll have to change the sheets again.
	To be continued...