Date: Thu, 3 Jun 2004 19:19:20 -0700 (PDT) From: mycandlelight_dreams <mycandlelight_dreams@yahoo.com> Subject: Timothy's second wind - chpt 9 This story is purely fictional and is based solely on the author's imagination. Any connection between real people or situations is purely coincidental. It depicts a love relationship between two men, both being of legal age, and their involvement with a teen boy. This story is a sequel to the story CABIN IN PARADISE, which can be found in the "Beginnings" section of Nifty's Archives. The author recommends you read that story first. Otherwise, there may be parts in this one that just don't make sense! The author reserves all copyright privileges. This work may not be reproduced, except for personal use, without permission of the author, and may not be linked to any pay sites. Chapter 9 --- Although Jacob was never terminated by Kenny, his appearances on the property became fewer and fewer. Jacob was soon transferred to work on other properties, until one day when he just neglected to report to work. No one, including Kenny, bothered to pursue the boy. After all, Kenny was walking a thin line between the employer-employee relationship, and the ill feelings of his nephew toward Jacob. Still, the hurt that Jacob caused was now fresh on Peter's mind. They say that "Revenge is sweet." However, in my time on this earth, I've learned that the person who came up with that saying didn't fully explain himself. Revenge is BITTERsweet, and something you have to acquire a taste for. As Peter approached Jacob, he forced a smile on his face, though he felt no happiness in his vengeful heart. "Hey there!" Peter hollered into the open garage door. Jacob, startled, rose up hitting the back of his head on the hood of the car. "Damn it!" he grumbled, rubbing the welting spot on his scalp. "You scared this shit out of me!" Peter smiled wider. "Sorry about that." Jacob eyed the boy up and down, and Peter's smile faded, feeling striped by Jacob's eyes. "What can I do for you?" Jacob smiled at him. "I know this sounds stupid, but I'm kinda lost," Peter lied. "I'm looking for Rossmore Jones house. I can't remember the damn address, but he said it was the one green house on the block." Jacob looked left and right up the street. His house was the only green house he could see. "Well, then he must not be on this street then," Jacob smiled at him again. Peter wiped a droplet of sweat from his forehead. "Shit. I figured this probably wasn't the place. Stupid to not write down the address, huh?" He wiped his forehead again. "Sure is hot today, huh?" Jacob asked. "Wanna come in and get something to drink? We can look up your friend in the phonebook." Peter nodded, as Jacob led him inside. "Coke okay?" Jacob asked, snapping open two cans before Peter could answer. "Sure, thanks." Peter said, walking down the hallway. "Nice place," He hollered back. Jacob soon followed, cans in hand. "Thanks. It's not much, but at least it's mine." The two sat down in the tiny living room, and Peter sipped the soda. "Ahhh, that's better, thanks!" "You're welcome." Jacob answered. "Oh hell, where's my manners? Jacob." Jacob said, sticking out his free hand. "My friend's call me Ronnie," Peter lied. "Nice to meet you." Peter sipped again, this time tipping the can a bit too far. A splash of dark-colored soda spilled down the front of his white t-shirt. "Damn it." He yelled, furiously wiping the shirt. "Hold on, I'll get you a towel," Jacob said, setting the soda down on an end table and rushing to the kitchen. Jacob searched through one of the cabinet drawers for a clean towel. Grabbing one, he rushed back into the living room. "Here you go." "Thanks...I'm so clumsy," Peter smiled, wiping himself off and then wiping the outside of the can. "Well," he said, tilting his can upward in a toast, "I should let you get back to work." He gulped the rest of the soda down, still holding the can with the towel. Jacob copied his movement. "Thanks for the cold one!" Peter smiled. "Sure, come by any time!" Jacob said, flirting with Peter. Jacob's eyes locked on Peter's ass cheeks as he walked back down the driveway, and then down the sidewalk. Then, he turned and went back to work on the car. --- To say I was ecstatic at my discovery would be the understatement of the week. Surely Mr. Byron knew that a will existed. If not, certainly his obnoxious brother had knowledge of it. "I brought you a little pick-me-up," I smiled at Kenny as I bounded into his office. "I could use it. I just got turned down on our discovery motion." "Well, this should brighten your day," I tossed the will copy on his desk. "What's this?" he pondered, picking up the two page document. "Only the instant answer to our Byron problem!" I gleamed. Kenny studied the document for a moment. He breezed through the normal preliminary legal language. It was when his eyes enlarged and he stood from his desk, that I knew he'd read the part I'd already memorized. "...and I hereby bequeath the property, known intimately as the family wasteland, to my son..." "Tom Byron," I interrupted. "Isn't it all too easy?" "How did you get this?" Kenny asked, a new glow in his face. "County Records, just like every other will we've obtained," I said with a sarcastic smirk. Kenny practically jumped over his desk to hug me. "I knew there was a reason I keep you around!" "I love you, too, Sweety!" I broke our embrace. "I think another dinner engagement is in order, don't you?" "Not so fast," Kenny's smile faded as quickly as it had arrived. "Any contest filed?" I crossed my arms for a moment, leaving Kenny hanging. "Hmmm, hadn't thought about that." "What do you mean you hadn't thought about that? Jesus, Russell!" I began laughing, and Kenny knew he'd been had. "You already checked, didn't you?" He said, half-smiling. I nodded my head. "Russell, you son-of-a-bitch!" He hugged me again. "I'll draft the letter to Byron's brother. Ooooo, I'd love to be a fly on the wall!" --- "Hey, where have you been?" Timothy smiled at Peter. "Aw, did you miss me?" Peter jabbed Timothy in the ribs, tickling the boy. "Peter, stop...you're gonna make me pee!" Timothy laughed out loud. "You think so, huh?" Peter tossed Timothy to the ground, continuing to tickle him. "Sssstop, ppplease!" Timothy tried his best to fight off Peter. "Uncle?" Peter asked. "Uncle! Fuck!" Timothy could hardly breath. "That's better!" Peter giggled, lifting himself from Timothy. Peter looked down at Timothy's crotch. "Nice boner, Tim!" At first, Timothy tried to hide it. Then, with his hands, he framed his stiffening boy dick inside his shorts. "Just for you!" With that, Peter leaned in, and the two embraced in a deep kiss. "Nobody's home," Timothy whispered, hunger in his eyes. Timothy led Peter up to the house, hand-in-hand. Peter followed, as the two made their way into Timothy's bedroom, and as they closed the door, the locked in another embrace; only this time their tongues dancing deeply. Peter didn't have to ask for permission. He knew Timothy wanted him as much as Peter did. Peter moved slowly down Timothy's firm, young body, until his face was directly in front of Timothy's swelled crotch. Peter placed a single, gentle kiss on the very peak of the young bulge. "Peter, please don't tease me," Timothy whimpered. Peter looked up and smiled. "Never," he said, pulling the shorts off of Timothy; releasing his boyhood into the cool air. It stayed only a moment, before being enveloped by Peter's warm, hungry mouth. "Oh, yes," Timothy moaned, his eyes closing, and his head resting back against the door. --- "The draft is finished. Tell me what you think," Kenny smiled, handing the freshly printed page to me. I scanned the short, poignant document. "I don't know, Kenny." I said, looking serious. "Something wrong?" I began to giggle devilishly. "This may just send that man into an early grave!" Kenny began to giggle as well. "Yeah, maybe we should send him a referral for life insurance." Kenny loaded the letterhead into the printer. "I'll need a certified copy from the courthouse." "I thought you might," I answered, handing Kenny the officially sealed copy of the will. "Perfect," Kenny hit the print button. "Now, about that dinner plan. How about we just make it the two of us?" My smile faded. "What about Timothy?" Kenny didn't even hesitate. "Of course, this should be a family celebration." --- As Peter wrestled atop of Timothy's naked body, there stiff cocks pressing against each other, Timothy whispered, "I wish this night would never end." "Shhh, let's just enjoy the moment." Peter pressed his lips tightly against Timothy's. Peter could feel a droplet of precum escape the tip of his dick and spread against their sensitive glands. It was then that Peter lifted Timothy's legs upward, exposing a hairless pink rosebud, just aching for Peter's throbbing tool. "Do it, Peter," Timothy pleaded. Peter lubed the boy's hole and firmly pressed his dickhead against Timothy. "Ready?" Timothy nodded, and Peter pressed harder. --- "Geez, Kenny, careful!" I screamed, as the police car passed us, lights flashing. Kenny swerved to the right, just inches from a potential accident. "Fuck!" Kenny steadied the car. "That was close!" "I'll say." "Good thing we hadn't started drinking yet," Kenny tried to lighten the moment. "After that, we're going to need one!" I forced a smile, although my heart rate was still racing. --- "Oh, God...yes...it's...oh, Tim...fuck, yeah, Babe!" Peter moaned, pressing deeper into Timothy's love tunnel, as the first blast of his young orgasm peaked. Timothy stroked harder, squeezing his ass cheeks around his lover's cock. A moment later, Timothy was spraying the two boys with watery boy juice. Peter collapsed on top of Timothy's sweaty and sticky body. "You are such a great lover!" "I'm learning," Timothy replied, reaching up to kiss Peter's lips. Their embrace was interrupted by the doorbell. "Fuck!" Timothy said out loud. "Let the maid get it," Peter whispered. "I already told you, Dork...nobody's home!" Timothy scrambled to get out from under Peter. "Where's my shorts?! Fuck!" "Easy, Tiger!" Peter said, scooping the shorts from the floor by the door. Timothy grabbed them from Peter's hand, quickly pulling them up. The doorbell rang again. Timothy pulled open the bedroom door and headed down the staircase, as Peter pulled up his pants. Timothy reached the front door before Peter was even half way down the stairs. "Yes?" Timothy asked, as he opened the door. His eyes were instantly glued to a bright golden badge. "I'm looking for Mr. Kenny Schilte!" The officer commanded. "Uh...he's not home right now." Timothy stuttered. The officer peeked inside the doorway, catching a glimpse of Peter behind Timothy. "Your mother home, then?" The officer asked. "My mother's dead!" Timothy snapped, before he could catch the sensitive words. --- As Kenny pulled up the drive, the red and blue flashing lights reflected off the BMW windshield. "What the fuck is this?" Kenny pushed down on the gas, accelerating up the drive, until the vision of the officer in his doorway, caught Kenny's eye. He braked the car in a cloud of dust. His door was open before the engine was off. "What's going on here?" Kenny blurted out, stepping between Timothy and the officer. "You Kenneth Schilte?" He asked in a formal voice. "Yes, why?" "I need to ask you some questions about an employee of yours, Mr. Schilte." "What sort of questions?" "Please, Sir, if I could just step inside and talk to you...privately," the officer nodded his head toward Timothy. By this point, I had entered the house and was standing near Timothy. The pungent aroma of Timothy's boyhood escapade caught my nostrils. "Why don't you boys get cleaned up for dinner," I said, waving them upstairs. "Yes, Sir," Timothy responded, obediently. "We'll talk in the den, Officer," Kenny pointed toward the double doors of the den. --- "I suppose we can't shower together, huh?" Peter laughed. "Peter, don't fuck around. There's a cop downstairs." Timothy brushed away Peter's hand. "Yeah, so? Your Uncle's a lawyer. I'm sure he talks to cops all the time." "Yeah," Timothy hesitated. "But, not about his employees." "I wouldn't worry about it, kid!" Peter smiled, wiping the mixture of sweat and boycum from his chest with a wet washcloth. Timothy found Peter's relaxed attitude a little strange, but the thoughts of why a policeman was in his house overtook any logical reasoning. --- "Well, thank you for the information, Officer. If I think of anything else, I'll let you know." Kenny escorted the officer to the door. "I appreciate that, Mr. Schilte. Have a good evening." The officer looked up the stairs and around the foyer. Probably thinking to himself that he'd never be able to afford such a house on his salary. Kenny closed the door behind the officer. "Well?" I asked, anxious to know what the intrusion was about. "Wait!" Kenny whispered. "Come on," Kenny pointed back to the den. Once inside, he closed the doors behind us. "Well?" I asked again. "Jacob's dead." "What? Who?" I asked, a little confused. "Jacob...that stupid gardner boy...you remember." Kenny looked for confirmation in my eyes. "Timothy's virginity thief!" My brain kicked in gear. "Ohhhh! OH!" My eyes lit up. "Yeah, exactly. A neighbor found his slumped over his engine. They claim he's been poisoned. They want to question Timothy about it." "Oh, come on, Kenny...get real. Our Timothy?" "I know, but the boy has to go downtown first thing tomorrow morning." Kenny rung his hands together. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I slumped into one of the leather chairs. "They couldn't suspect our boy!" "Look, let's not get crazy about this. We'll go down there tomorrow, answer their questions, and that should be the end of it." Kenny tried to convince himself, as much as me. "For tonight, we go to dinner as planned. Agreed?" "Russell? Agreed?" "Huh?" Broken from my trance. "Dinner, yeah." Kenny opened the door. "Timothy, we're leaving for dinner. Your friend will have to go home now." I looked up at Kenny. It wasn't like him to be so rude to Timothy's friends, especially Peter. "Just family," Kenny said, touching me on the shoulder. I suspected that Kenny knew more than he was telling me, but it was no use pressing the issue. Peter bounded down the stairs, not a care in the world. "Good night, then. See ya." "Good night, Peter," I said, closing the front door behind him. "I'm ready," Timothy said solemnly. We walked to the car, and drove to the restaurant, no one speaking. The silence was deafening. --- I hope you're enjoying my story of Russell, Kenny, and Timothy. I welcome comments and questions, so email me at mycandlelight_dreams@yahoo.com I also have other stories posted on Nifty. If you'd like the titles, just ask me.