Date: Thu, 27 Feb 2003 03:57:09 -0800 (PST)
From: Tim Mead <timmead88@yahoo.com>
Subject: Dr. Tim and the Boys, ch. 13

The following story is fiction.  It involves sexually-
explicit erotic events between males.  If you are offended
by such material, are too young, or live in an area where it
is not allowed, don't read it.

 In the world of this story, the characters don't always use
condoms.  In the real world, you should have enough respect
for yourself and others to practice safe sex.

The author retains all rights.  No reproductions or links to
other sites are allowed without the author's permission.

After I posted chapter 12, a reader wrote in and referred to
our writing group as "the Nifty Six."  I like that.  Thanks,
Philip, for the idea.  So, as always, it's a pleasure to
thank my Nifty Six colleagues, Evan, Patrick, Ash, Tom, and
Mickey for their help and support.  Special thanks go to Tom
for being such a patient editor.

Timmead88@yahoo.com
Chapter 13:  Spring Fever


                           STEVE:

Mead said he thought I could do "excellent work."  Sounds
just like the `rents.  "Oh, Stephen," Mom says, "I KNOW you
can do anything you set your mind to, sweetie."  Dad doesn't
use the same words, but he says the same thing all the time.
Except he manages to sound disgusted with me when he says
it.  Where does a goddam proctologist get off being
disgusted with me?  Look what he does all day!

My teachers in high school all just sort of gave me C's and
acted like I didn't exist.  Come to think of it, that's
pretty much what my profs here do.  Wonder why Mead is on my
case.

Man, he knows all about D. H. Lawrence, though, and he seems
to like the guy's books, too.  Now that finals are over, I
think I'll read "The Plumed Serpent."  Sounds kind of sexy.
Mead says Lawrence always has the same message, but that
this book is set in the US and Mexico instead of the coal
country of England.

I guess everybody read "Gatsby" in high school.  Ms.
Borradaille, my eleventh-grade English teacher, thought it
was the greatest thing since sliced bread.  Didn't seem like
all that much to me.  But Mead sees stuff and gets us to see
stuff in the things he assigns that are pretty cool.

I'm not gonna go home and get lectured about "finding
myself" all summer.  Like I told the prof, I may as well
stay here and take something.  Might even take that course
of his.  If he thinks I'm so smart, maybe I can work him for
a B.  That'd surprise the shit out of my folks.

Funny about Mead and those two jocks, Jones and Withers.
The three of them have some kind of a thing going.  Yeah,
sure, those two are smart, even if they are jocks.  Jones is
always on top of the reading and says stuff in class that
Mead likes.  Withers was kind of out of it for a while, but
he got back to talking a lot in class again toward the end
of the term.  But there's something more between those
three, like they had this private joke.

One day those two guys showed up in class in the damndest
outfits.  Mesh tank tops cut off so their belly buttons were
showing, and cutoffs.  I don't know what the fuck they were
doin', but Mead kept looking over at them like he was scared
of them or something.  Then he sat down.  He NEVER sits down
unless we're taking a test.

Withers and Jones know how to yank the little prof's chain,
for sure.  You know, the Iceman was pretty decent to me in
his office that day.  Maybe he's just trying to make some
sort of project out of me.  I wonder if he's recruiting
English majors.

What the hell!  I'd as soon be in his class as anything else
I could take this summer.  Who knows, some of those books
might be OK.


                           CEDRIC:

One of the things about having a professor for a lover is
that you get to see university life from a different
perspective.  For example, I found out that Tim dreads
finals as much as we do.  As he said, "You guys write `em
and leave.  I have to read the damned things!"  He says
figuring final grades is the worst part, though.  It's never
just a matter of running an average.  You can do that in
science classes, maybe, but he has to ask himself if the
average gives what he calls an "appropriate" result.  I
really think the sweet  guy agonizes over grading.

"Sweet guy."  I can imagine what the people who call him
"the Iceman" would think if they heard me call him that.  Of
course, it was my buddy Trey who came up with "the Iceman,"
but he's sorry about it now.

So, Tim told me one afternoon in his office that Stan wanted
him to shop for a dark green blazer.  I thought that sounded
cool.  With his hair and eyes, he'd look too sexy for his
shirt in that color.  But he said he didn't need a dark
colored blazer with the summer coming up, and we could shop
for that before fall semester begins.  Then he went on to
say that we DID need to look for a place to live.

With term papers due and finals coming up, neither of us had
time to do that right away.  Since I had a few days after
finals before I had to go back to Shaker to work for my dad,
we decided we'd look for something then.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The night of the last day of finals, Mark and I had a party
at our place for the "brotherhood."  We got a caterer to
bring in a great cold buffet.  Mark and I set up a bar.
Trey thought we should all dress up a little, like with
blazers over our khakis, but Chaz vetoed that.  So we all
ended up coming pretty casual.  Everybody wore shorts and
polo shirts.  Tim looks so great in shorts, with that cute
little butt of his.  Because of all his running, he has
these really muscular legs.  And that night he wore a dark
green polo shirt.  Stan's right.  With his really green
eyes, auburn hair, and pale skin, that color really is
delicious on my guy.

After we had eaten, we were just sort of flopped around,
sipping our various drinks (Mark had gotten some decent
chardonnay for Tim, and Trey surprised me by drinking that,
too.)  Mark and I were having gin and tonics.  Chaz had Jack
Daniels.  Straight.

Tim said, "Guys, I've heard a little bit about what you're
doing this summer, but I wish you'd fill me in on the
details."

I held up my hand and said, "Me, please sir, me!"

I thought Tim was going to spill his wine he laughed so
hard.  "Not you, dufus.  I know what you're doing.  You're
deserting me."

"Only on weekdays, babe.  You and me, we're gonna make up
for it on weekends.  I think it's time I took you home to
meet the folks, and the rest of our weekends I'll be right
here with you."

"I have a feeling they're going to seem like long weeks,"
Tim said.  He continued, "Mark, what about you? I still
haven't met Lori.  Will she be around?"

"'Fraid not, Tim.  She finished her finals a couple of days
ago, and I took her to Hopkins to fly back home.  I'm hoping
to fly over there in August for a visit, and then we'll come
back together.  I'm also hoping that she will move in here
with me, since you've stolen my roomie away."

There was a good deal of comment about this announcement.
"Mark, dude, sounds serious," Chaz said.

Mark, beaming, said, "I think it is, Chaz, I think it is."

"That's great, Mark," Tim said.  "Congratulations."

"Well," Chaz said, gesturing toward me, "Lori's got to be
better looking than THAT ugly thing!"

I gave Chaz the finger.

"What will you be doing the rest of the summer, Mark?" Tim
asked.

"I'm volunteering at the community care center in Meadville
weekdays.  I'll probably come back over here occasionally on
weekends to pester you guys."

"I admire you for working at the care center when you could
just take it easy," Tim said.

"Oh, Pops would have me on a city garbage truck or something
if I didn't," Mark replied, smiling.  "Speaking of my dad,
he said to tell you guys to keep the weekend of the 4th
open.  He wants to have a big cookout at our place on that
Saturday, and you are all expected to come."  He looked at
Chaz.  "Think you'll be able to make it, big guy?"

"Hey, Mark, you know you just have to mention party and I'll
be there.  Sure I'll come.  I'll stop by here and pick up
Trey.  Maybe I'll come this far on Friday."  He looked at
Trey, who smiled and nodded.

Tim and I exchanged glances, too.  "Mark," I said, "you KNOW
Tim and I will be there!  Can't wait."

"Tell your Pops I wouldn't miss it Mark.  Maybe Chuckie and
I can get there early enough to help set up," Trey said.

"Better not call me that, Henry Lee," Chaz said.  "You know
I hate `Chuckie'."

"Great, guys," my roomie said.  I love it when he smiles and
shows those dimples.  "Pops will be glad the whole bunch of
us will be there."

"Trey," Tim said.  Trey had been studying Tim intently, but
he seemed surprised when Tim spoke to him.

"Yes, Tim?"

"I hear you will have a new roommate for the summer.
Anybody I know?"

"I'm sure you've seen him, since you've been coming to our
matches.  Raul Velazquez is moving into Chaz's room."

"Oh, of course.  I haven't met him, but he seems to be a
very promising tennis player."

"That he is.  And you're going to meet him.  Raul and I are
taking your `Lost Generation' course."

Tim beamed at the news.  "Trey, that's great.  Now I now I
will have at least two people to keep me on my toes.  Maybe
three."

"And who would the third be, professor?" Trey asked.

"You know Steve Metz in our contemporary lit class?"

Trey nodded.

"Well, he told me he's going to be around this summer, and I
urged him to sign up."

That was news to me.  "Trying to pad your enrollment, Tim?"
I asked.

"The last I heard, smartass, twenty-five people had signed
up, so, no, I don't need to pad my enrollment."

"With all due respect, Tim," Trey said, "'smartass' is the
way I'd describe Metz."

"Yeah," I said, "you think HE'S going to `keep you on your
toes'?"

"Look, you two hotshots, Steve Metz is every bit as smart as
either of you.  He just doesn't have a clue what he wants to
do with himself.  Once he finds something that really turns
him on, look out!  Trey, I hope you'll get to know Steve,
maybe talk with him before or after class.  I think you may
find more there than meets the eye."

Trey looked intently at Tim for a minute.  I'd swear some
sort of unspoken communication passed between them.  "OK
Tim, I'll make a point of it.  But I'll have to stand a
little way off.  The guy reeks of tobacco smoke, and
sometimes he smells like weed."

 "So I've noticed.  You know, if you are a friend to him,
you may be able to get him to give up one or both of those
habits."

Chaz snorted.  "Tim, why don't you take him running with you
some morning?  After the first couple of hundred yards, this
Metz guy will be falling down trying to get his breath.
It'll be P cubed for sure!"

Tim smiled at Chaz and said, "I mightdo that, so long as he
doesn't think I'm trying to proposition him into going into
the arboretum with me first thing in the morning."

That got laughs all around.  Trey said, "I guess that means
Steve's straight."

"You're asking the wrong guy, Trey," Tim said.  "My gaydar
is non-functional.  But I think you should assume Steve is
straight."  Tim looked Trey in the eye for what seemed like
a long time.

"Yes, Tim," Trey said.  "I hear you.  But what Chaz said
about taking him running has given me an idea"

"Want to tell us about it?" Tim asked.

"Later, maybe, after I've had a chance to think about it for
a while."

"OK," Tim said.  "Now, Chaz, I gather from what was said
earlier that you'll be at home for the summer."

"Yep," Chaz replied.

Tim grinned.  "OK, very tall person, make me work for it.
Would you please tell me what you're going to be doing in
Cincinnati this summer?"

Chaz returned the grin, as if he had just won some sort of
contest.  "I'm going to be the sports counselor in a day
camp run by the city.  This'll be my second summer doing
that."

"Hey, Chaz, that's great," Tim said.  "Do you enjoy working
with kids?"

"Yeah, you know, I really do.  They can be a handful, but
the little rats are a lot of fun."

"I'd like to make a suggestion to all of you.  Why don't you
use your computers to keep a journal this summer?  Then, in
the fall, we can have a get-together like this in Ced's and
my new quarters and you can read one another passages."

"Yeah, like I'm going to write something every day," Chaz
humphed.

"Chaz, you admitted to me that it helps you clarify your
thoughts when you write things down," Trey said.

"Don't go there!" Chaz said, warningly.  Then, "Trey, buddy,
you didn't - "

"Relax, babe," Trey said.  "You know I wouldn't."

I think the rest of us were curious as to what that was all
about, but we all had enough tact not to inquire.

Tim stood up.  "Guys, I want to say something.  I  became a
part of your foursome in a bizarre way.  Who could have
imagined the events that brought us together?"  Then he
looked at Chaz, who actually blushed.  "Well, Chaz, I guess
you did `imagine' some of those events."

Chaz looked at the floor.

"All I was going to say," Tim continued, "was that, however
it all came about, I'm glad you have adopted me into the
group.  I feel like an older brother to a pride of young
lions.  Have a great summer, cubs.  And you'd better stay in
touch.  See you on the weekend of the 4th if not sooner.
Now, Cedric, you and I have to go apartment hunting bright
and early tomorrow, so I'd better go."

"What about me?" I asked.

"But you live here."

"Don't be a spoilsport, Timmy.  I want to come with you."

The other guys were all grinning as Tim gave a jerk of his
head to indicate I should come along.

"Mark," Tim said, "please give my best to Stan."

Mark dimpled again and said he'd do that.

The next day, Tim and I looked at apartment after apartment.
What we finally found was a really cool unfurnished duplex
with three bedrooms and a bath upstairs, a kitchen,
family/dining room, and a living room downstairs, plus a lav
down there and a basement.  We decided that we'd have to buy
some furniture.  Mark's and my apartment was furnished, so
all I had was my clothes, my computer, a bookcase full of
books, and a bunch of cd's, dvd's and video tapes.  The
stuff in Tim's apartment was his own, but there wasn't much
of it, and it was mostly junk, so I persuaded him to give a
lot of it to the Goodwill.

Tim signed the lease.  It was understood that I would pay
half the rent for next year.  After that, he said he could
swing it himself, since I would be graduating and going off
somewhere to law school.  I hated the sound of that.  The
idea of being away from Tim almost made me sick.

The next day we did some furniture shopping.  Tim let me do
most of the choosing.  He said he'd let the gay guy do the
decorating.  I promised I'd get him for that.


                   *          *          *

                            TREY:

After our "farewell party," Chaz and I went back down the
hall to our own apartment.

"What time do you want to get away tomorrow?" I asked him.

"Well, Tiger, no rush.  Let's just see when we wake up."

"Yeah, right.  That'll be noon, if I know you," I said.

"No, I want to get home in time to get my stuff unloaded
before supper."

"What is it, about four and a half hours?" I asked.

"Yeah, unless I hit construction or an accident on 71.  You
gonna be around in the morning to help me get my gear in the
car?"

"Would I let you do all that hard work by yourself, little
one?" I asked.

That got the goofy, lop-sided grin I love!

"You're too good to me, Daddy," he said.

"Well, buddy, I guess I'll turn in.  Good night."

"Uh, Trey?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I have a hug?"

I moved toward him, to be enveloped in his long arms.  He
squeezed me so hard I couldn't breathe for a moment.  Then
he let go and walked away toward his bedroom.  "Night,
Tiger."

After I was in bed, I had so much on my mind, I had trouble
getting to sleep.  I thought back to Tim at our party.
Since that sexy dream I had about him, I've been watching
him really closely.  And several times I found him looking
back at me, as if he were studying me.  Ever since that
dream, I've had the feeling that he took me, made me his.
Not his lover.  He's never given me any indication that he
loves anybody but Ced.  Yet I'd swear there's some kind of
bond between us.  He said something earlier that evening
about being our older brother.  I feel sort of as if that
hot little guy IS my brother.  Wonder if any of the other
guys sense anything like that.

With all of that going through my mind, I was also trying to
figure out what was going on with Chaz.  What did the hug
mean?  An apology?  Was he telling me something about his
feelings?  Just a goodbye for the summer?  I didn't have a
clue.  One thing I was sure of, though.  The hard shell
around the Chaz I've known since freshman year is gradually
getting cracks in it.  And I think I love the guy inside
that cracked shell more all the time.  Dammit, if only he'd
give me some sort of signal about his feelings.  And then,
there's Sue-Ann . . .


                   *          *          *

                           CEDRIC:

If Tim and I had been smart, we'd have found our place
sooner and gotten the guys to help us move.  As it was, the
furniture store delivered the new stuff to the new place,
and Tim and I loaded the things from his old apartment into
my 4Runner. It took several trips, mostly because Tim has so
many books and cd's.  We were both pretty tired and sweaty
when we finished.  Of course, there was no food in the
fridge.  Tim suggested we clean up.  He wanted to take me to
Stefan's, the place where he and Stan had dinner.  I told
him that I'd take a rain check.  Some weekend during the
summer I'd like to go there.  But since I was leaving for
home the next morning, I suggested we just order in.  He
told me to get in the tub and have a good soak, and he'd be
right back.  I started to object, but he just leaned up and
kissed me.

"No back talk, young `un," he said.  Dirty, sweaty, and
tired as he was, he grabbed the keys to his old Camry and
left.

Obedient "young `un" that I am, I was lying in the tub
playing with Sneaky when he got back.  I heard the front
door close.  Tim came upstairs and peeked in at me.
Grinning, he began to tear off his clothes.

"Damn!" he said.  "You look good enough to eat."

"So eat me daddy!"

"Not while you're sitting there all nice and clean and I
stink," Tim said. "Speaking of eating, I got a couple of
reubens and some of those great pickles at Fein's.  We can
dig into those just as soon as I get showered."

"At some point, little stud, one of us is going to dig into
the other!"

He laughed at that and reached into the stall shower to turn
on the water, unaware of my plan to get him for the
decorator crack he made that afternoon.

After our baths, we both put on shorts and t-shirts and
headed for the kitchen.

The reubens were piled high with great corned beef and
kraut, topped with rich, tangy Thousand Island dressing.
The pickle spears were the kind you can only get at a good
deli. Tim had brought several bottles of wine from his old
place, but even he conceded that beer went better with the
sandwiches.  He only ate half of his, putting the rest in a
zipper bag and throwing it in the fridge.

"I think my eyes were bigger than my stomach," he laughed.
"Even with all that lugging this afternoon, I just don't
have room for all that."

I waggled my eyebrows.  "Got room in there for some snake?"

He walked around behind me, leaned down, put a hand on each
nip and began to rub.  Then he began kissing the side of my
neck.  It tickled and I began to laugh and wiggle.

"Cedric," he whispered in my ear, "I'll always have room in
me if the snake is Sneaky."

"Ok, boss.  Let's get these things in the dishwasher, and
we'll move to a bedroom.  We haven't got any sheets on
either bed yet.  Why don't we just do yours, since I'm
leaving tomorrow?"

"I don't know whether you're being logical or lazy, stud,
but that sounds good to me.  Let's do it!"

We unwrapped and put a new bottom sheet on Tim's bed and
stopped, figuring that anything else would just be in the
way, at least for the moment.  But we did unwrap a top sheet
for later.

I checked the drawer of his bedside table to make sure there
was lube, if needed.  There was.  It was going to take a
while for us to feel at home here, but I was excited that
Tim and I had this place together, OUR PLACE!  And we were
going to inaugurate it tonight!

We both shed our clothes.  Apparently kissing me and rubbing
my tits turned him on, because he was already totally boned
up.  And he is the leakiest dude I've ever seen.  Of course,
my experience is somewhat limited.  Francis didn't leak like
Tim does, and Trey didn't leak nearly as much the times he
and Tim were doing each other.  (I'm glad that's all over.
I love Trey like he was my own brother, but it was really
hard to watch them together.  Tim says he doesn't love
anybody like he loves me, and I believe him.  But there's
something between him and Trey.  They've got some kind of
connection.  I don't think even they understand what it is.)

Where was I?  Oh, yeah, Timmy had a hard-on.  I lay down on
my back on the bed and held my arms out to him.  He lay on
top of me, and we kissed.  Oh, and there was some wiggling
and cock grinding, too.  I really gave him lots of tongue
because I wanted him hot.

When we had to come up for air, I rolled him off of me so he
was on his back beside me.  Then I leaned over and began to
nibble on his right nip.  He's very sensitive there, so it's
erotic but it tickles when I do that.  He giggled and
squirmed.  I think it's amazing that this guy, who's so much
in charge in the classroom, this "Iceman," can let down all
his defenses and enjoy our sex play without any inhibitions.
He says I did that for him.  Is that cool or what?

Anyway, I reached over with my right hand and pulled him
onto his right side a little, so I could work on the left
tit.  I gave it the same treatment, and he continued to
laugh and writhe, loving it while he pleaded with me to
stop.

I licked my way down, over his abs, around and into his
navel, down to his prickly short pubes.  He was pretty wild
by this time, telling me how hot I was and how hot he felt.
Then, when he would have expected me to take Junior in my
mouth, I scooted toward the foot of the bed and began to
lick the insides of his thighs, first one and then the
other, working toward his balls.

He laughed and said, "That's fantastic, sweetheart, but I'm
ready.  Could you suck me, please?"

"You gonna let the gay guy do the decoratin', huh?" I said,
and began to lick his balls.

"Cedric!" It was somewhere between a laugh and a gasp.  "I'm
sorry. You KNOW I was only teasing!"

"MMmmmm," I said as I sucked on his balls.

"OHHHHHhhhh!  That's fantastic.  Don't stop!  I mean, yeah,
stop.  Please take it in your mouth, babe.  I need to come
so bad!"

I stopped what I was doing, raised up, and looked him in the
eye.  "Professor, I'm shocked!  You know very well it should
be `I need to come so BADLY'."

He laughed.  "OK, OK!  You've gotten back at me for that
decorator remark.  Now, will you suck me, please?"

"All in due course, my vertically challenged little lover,
all in due course."

"Cedric," he said, trying to frown, "this isn't funny any
more."  Pre-cum was running down the sides of his cock.

Not saying anything, I turned him over, pulled his butt up a
little off the bed, and began to rim him.  He always loves
that.  There was no pillow for him to stick his face into,
so he rested his forehead on his crossed arms.  He muttered
and moaned, obviously really getting into what I was doing.
His ass ring loosened up right away.  Man, he'd come a long
way in a short time.

Grabbing the lube, I slicked up Sneaky pretty good and put
the tip against Tim's cute rosebud, which, as I said, was
kind of winking at me.  He was ready.  He obviously wanted
me to do him.  Right then!  And, believe me, I was ready,
too.

So, I entered him, gently and a little bit at a time, as
always.  Didn't want to hurt my babe.  We had never done it
doggie style before because we both wanted to look at each
other while we did it.  But Tim got into it right away.
He'd been done that way by Trey the night Trey took his
cherry.  And, of course, by now he was used to Sneaky's
size.

Before long, we were banging away.  I'm pretty quiet during
sex, but Timmy's very vocal, moaning, saying my name,
swearing like he never swears any other time.  And he was
doing all that now.

I was getting into it pretty much myself.  His chute is
still really tight, and it feels so great when he grabs
Sneaky with his sphincter.  After a while, I stopped.
Totally.  Just quit moving.  Waited.

"Ced, my God, man.  You can't just stop."

I didn't say a thing.

"Ced," he asked, looking over his shoulder, "are you OK?"

"Yeah," I said, "I was just thinking about how we could
decorate this place."

Then I began to plow his ass for all it was worth.  I don't
know whether Tim laughed or was going to swear or what.  He
just sort of choked.  So I stopped again and asked, "Timmy
babe are YOU OK?"

"NO, idiot!  Fuck me.  Don't stop.  Just keep going till you
come.  Till I come.  Then maybe I'll be OK!"

It took a while to get over the cooling-off effects of the
interruption, but as we slowly built up again, it was even
better than it might have been without the delay.
Predictably, Tim came first.  He shook and quivered and
jerked all over as he was spurting his spooge onto the new
sheet under us.

I was so close anyway, his coming triggered mine, and I
exploded inside him.  With a huge sigh, Tim just collapsed
onto his stomach, into all that jizz he had just deposited
on the bed.  I sank down as he did, lying there on top of
him, Sneaky still inside him.

I didn't lie on him for long because I was afraid I'd hurt
him.  After all I outweigh my little lover by about twenty
pounds.  As our breathing slowed and Sneaky went soft, I
pulled out, rolling onto my left side so I could face him.

He didn't move for a while.  I didn't know whether I was in
trouble or not.

He rolled onto his right side and grinned.  "That was
weird."

"Yeah," I said, looking carefully at him to make sure he
wasn't mad.

"Man, you really got me.  I'll be pretty damned careful
about gay jokes in front of you from now on.  But if you
ever do that again, sonny, your ass is grass!"

"Yes, daddy," I said, reaching to pull him into a kiss.

We fell asleep in each other's arms.


Later, I woke up.  It was still dark.  I had rolled onto my
right side.  Tim was snuggled up against me with his left
arm draped over my chest.  I could feel Junior, hard again,
in my ass crack.  Felt goooood!  I wiggled my ass a little.

"You awake?" he asked.

"What a nice way to wake up.  I want to do that forever.
Now, are you gonna do me, or are you just a tease?"

"Am I ever gonna do you!" he said, rolling over momentarily
for the lube.  There was a pause while he slicked Junior up.
Then he pulled me onto my back, got between my legs, and
began lubing up my hole.  First one finger, then two, then
three.  And he knew just where my button was, massaging it,
making me hot, making Sneaky hard.

"Do it real slow, babe.  This has got to last us a week."

"Right.  Slow it is."

True to his word, he did everything in slow motion.  He
never hurts me when he enters me, but it was really exciting
to feel him slipping Junior up my chute sooo slowly.  Long,
slow strokes, all the way in, almost all the way out.
Gentle.  Tender.  Incredibly hot.

The sheet under us was still sticky from our first time, and
the bed smelled strongly of cum.  But it was so beautiful.
I was glad we were in the dark, for my eyes filled with
tears.  I was so lucky to have this man.  I didn't know
quite how I was going to cope with being away from him for a
week.  Lots of solitary beating off, probably.  Maybe
thinking about all that is why I didn't come.  It was great
anyway.  I loved every perfect minute of it.  Tim came
again.  A lot, from all the spasming he did.  After Junior
went soft, Timmy pulled out.

"You haven't come," he said.  I couldn't see him very well,
but he sounded really concerned.

"Don't imagine I will now.  Don't worry about it.  Just come
here and let me hold you."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, babe."

So, messy as we were, we held each other again.  Tim dozed
off after a while.  I didn't ever get back to sleep that
night.  I kissed him occasionally as he slept.


                   *          *          *


                            TREY:


The morning after Mark and Ced's party, I helped Chaz get
his gear in his Tahoe (big guy, big SUV) and head off for
home.  There were no affectionate farewells.  When
everything was loaded, he gave me a casual wave, hopped in,
and drove off.  I hated to see him leave with things so
unresolved between us.  It just seemed the time was never
right to talk about it.  I don't really know what I would
have said anyway.  I did know I was going to miss old Chaz.

The day after Chaz left, I helped Raul haul his stuff to our
place.  My RX 300 has a lot more cargo capacity than his
convertible.  He had his computer, a lot more books than
Chaz, some cd's, and a surprising amount of clothes.

Sunday was really warm for the end of May.  Raul asked if
there was anywhere around to go swimming.  I was a little
dubious this early, but told him there was a nice long
stretch of beach at Mentor Headlands State Park on Lake
Erie.  Nothing would do but that we had to go.

We changed into speedos and then put shorts on over those.
I grabbed the sunblock and some beach towels.  We took t-
shirts but didn't wear them since we were taking his
Beamer-with the top down, of course.  Traffic was light, so
we got there in a little over an hour.  It was a beautiful
day, the temperature in the mid 80's. The sun and the breeze
felt good on our skin as we drove.  The music system in his
car was fantastic, and it was really great to relax, listen
to the tunes, and occasionally exchange comments with Raul.

When we got to the beach, despite the sunshine, there
weren't many people there.  We should have known why.  We
walked along the water's edge until we found a place where
there were no people within about a hundred yards.  We put
our towels down, shucked out of our cargos and shoes, and
ran for the water.

Let me tell you, we found out right away what ball-chilling,
cock-shrinking cold is.  I mean, late May or not, Lake Erie
was frigid.  I was almost paralyzed the moment I hit the
water.  I looked over at Raul, whose lips were already blue.
"Shit, Trey, you didn't tell me it would be like
Antarctica," he said, managing a smile as he shivered.

"Hey, dude, don't look at me.  I've only been here before at
the end of summer, when the lake's really nice.  I sure as
hell didn't know it was going to be like this."

We went back and put our towels around our shoulders and sat
on the sand for a while.  It didn't take us long to thaw in
the warm sun.  We decided to work on our tans, so we spread
the towels side by side on the sand and lay down on them.
It felt wonderful to just lie there and soak up the rays and
unwind from finals.  We had a week before summer classes
began, and therefore no immediate cares.  I was thinking I
was pretty lucky to have such a great group of friends.
Lucky, too, that the whole thing with Tim wasn't the
disaster it could have been.  I realized what a remarkable
man he is.  So cute when he and Ced are together.  But tough
when he needs to be.  Brilliant, for sure.  Sensitive.
Wicked sense of humor.  I was looking forward to his summer
course.  Raul and I were going to the bookstore on Monday
and pick up the books we were supposed to read.  Ced had
given me a syllabus, and we planned to get started early on
the reading.  There was a lot of stuff to get through in
five weeks.

As I was lying there thinking about all that, I felt Raul's
hand on my dick.  He just casually laid his hand on my
package and started rubbing slowly.

"Raul," I squawked, "what in hell are you doing?"

"Chill, Trey, the nearest people are over a hundred meters
away.  No one will see anything."

"Even so, man, you startled me!  And you need to be very
careful about doing things like that around here.  People
see you doing that and we might wind up bodies in the lake."

He laughed.  "Roll over on your side, facing me."

I did.  He lay on his side, facing me.

"Now," he said, "no one could see us unless they were
directly overhead.  And that family over there can't see
what we are doing."

Then he began to stroke my cock again.  It didn't take long
before it was hard and sticking up out of my speedo.  I
couldn't just lie there and let him do that, so I began to
rub him.  Soon his long dick was sticking out of his speedo,
too, almost to his belly button.  Then he took his hand off
my package, put his thumb under my chin with his fingers
along my cheek and pulled me toward him.  He gave me another
one of those hot tongue fucks like he had done a few days
earlier.  Soon, we were pressed up against each other,
grinding our cocks together, sucking face like nobody's
business.

Then someone cleared their throat.  "I think you two had
better cut that out.  If you don't, I'm sure there's
something I could arrest you for."

When we looked up, there stood a park ranger in her green
uniform.  She was big, square, and ugly, but she was
actually smiling at us.  I was mortified.  Not only had we
been caught kissing in public, but our cocks were both
sticking way above the tops of our speedos.  And the ranger
would have to be a woman!

"You boys behave yourselves now," the ranger said as she
turned to walk on down the beach."

Raul and I hastily tried to stuff our cocks back into our
swim trunks.  Then he looked at me and we both exploded with
laughter.

"Tigre," Raul said, still grinning broadly, "you were right.
I nearly got us into much trouble.  I shall follow your
example and be more circumspect, my friend."

"That dance took two, buddy," I said.  I agreed silently
that we needed to be a lot more careful.

We just lay in the sun for about another hour.  I used some
of the sunblock, but Raul, with his darker skin, didn't need
any.  Finally we put our cargos and shoes back on and headed
for the car.  We were hungry by that time, so we stopped at
a Wendy's for burgers and fries on the way home.  Raul
wanted to know why they made their burgers square.  I
couldn't tell him.  "An interesting marketing strategy," he
mused.

When we got home, we both needed to shower.  Since Raul was
new to the place, I told him he could go first.  Chaz and I
tossed a coin, usually, when we both needed to get clean.
Since my speedo and cargos were pretty sandy, I took them
off and put them into the washer.  Then I wandered into the
kitchen and got myself a glass of o.j.  By the time I had
finished that, I heard the water shut off in the shower, so
I headed for my room to take off my sandals, the only things
I was wearing.  Raul came out of the bathroom with a towel
wrapped demurely around his hips.

Seeing me standing there naked in my bedroom doorway, he
flashed his brilliant smile, looked me up and down, and
said, "Very tasty, amigo!"  He went on into Chaz's room, as
I went into the bathroom.

After my shower I walked into the bedroom, toweling my hair.

"You have beautiful hair, Trey.  You should wear it longer,
to show it off.  Your friends call you `Tiger.'  But with
your hair longer, you would look like a leon." He pronounced
it the Spanish way "lay-ON."

"Ya think?" I answered, the towel still over my head.  Then
I dropped the towel to get into some clothes.  Raul was
lying naked on my bed!

"Damn, man!" I said.  "Is there a Spanish equivalent for
`subtle'?"

He flashed me that toothy smile, and his dark eyes sparkled.
"Why be subtle at a time like this?  I want you.  I have
wanted you for many months.  I think you are - not
uninterested in me, shall we say?"

I thought of Chaz.  I looked at Raul.  As often as I had
seen him in the showers, even though he had come grinding
his cock against my stomach (fully clothed), and despite our
escapade on the beach earlier, I had never until now seen
his cock fully hard.  I thought of Chaz.  I thought of Sue-
Ann.  My cock began to fill.

"See," Raul said, "your handsome dick likes me.  Come here,
leon."

I never thought my tool was handsome.  Most guys' cocks are
pink, like their skin. (Except for Ced's, of course.)   But
when mine gets hard, it turns reddish-purple.  Sort of
gross, I think.  But it was pointing toward Raul, and I
followed it.

When I was standing beside the bed, Raul got off the bed and
dropped to his knees.  Grabbing my dick with his right hand,
be began to lick it like it was a popsicle.  I don't leak as
much as some guys, but it wasn't long before my dick began
oozing.  Raul tongued the slit to get it, and I jumped.  I
don't remember a woman ever doing that before.  And this was
the first time since that one time in high school that a man
had ever touched my cock, except when Chaz was shaving me.

Raul took me in his mouth and bobbed up and down a couple of
times.  Then he took it all.  I had to grab his head for
balance.  What a feeling!  I ran my fingers through his mop
of curly black hair as he sucked, and I DO mean sucked on
me, trying not to grab his hair by the handful.

I had my head thrown back and my eyes shut when he let go of
my shaft.  He was still sucking and bobbing, just not
holding on.  Then he put his hand on my face and stuck his
middle finger in my mouth.  I began to suck on it, which is
what he seemed to want.  Whoever would have thought how hot
that could be?  I was sucking like a baby on a tit, when he
took the finger away, stuck his hand between my legs, and
pressed the wet finger against my hole.

He began slowly working the finger, past the ring, into my
chute.  Wow!  I'd had Tim's finger there recently, but
nobody ever did that while they were sucking me.  What a
trip!  Raul must have had lots of experience doing this.  He
certainly knew what he was doing.  He massaged my nut as he
sucked and slurped my tool.  I'd never had a b.j. like that
before, and being with Raul all day had kept me sexually on
edge.

It didn't take much more of that before I knew I was going
to come, and I told Raul so.

I thought I should warn him even though I suspected he would
swallow my cum.  He surprised me by pulling off.

"Spray it all over my face, Trey!"

`Whatever floats your boat,' I thought.  It only took a
couple of pumps with my hand, and I did what he wanted.  It
had been a while, so I had stored up a good supply.  By the
time I had finished, he had cum from his hair to his chin.
And what a turn-on that was, to see him there on his knees,
smiling up at me, with all that jizz on his face.  My jizz.

"Tigre, don't think I am unwilling to swallow your , uh,
cum.  But here is what I want you to do, hombre.  Lick it
all off my face, but don't swallow it."

I wasn't sure about that.  All that cum?  My own?  Sure, I
had tasted my cum.  Who hasn't?  But they were always
tentative little tastes.  Licking Raul's face, on the other
hand, seemed like a great idea, so I set to licking.  It was
hard to lick the stuff and store it in my mouth without
swallowing, but I managed.  And slurping on his face was a
real turn-on.  When I finished, I straightened up.

Raul stood up, too.  "Now, leon, kiss me and let me taste
your wonderful cream."

First I opened my mouth to show him what I had collected
from his face.  Then I grabbed his curly hair and pulled him
toward me.  We kissed.  His tongue swabbed my mouth, taking
cum with it into his.  How raunchy!  How hot!  Tongues
entwined, swapping spit, transferring cum.  My cum, from my
mouth to his!

My limp cock was getting hot, hard, and purple again.  That
reminded me Raul hadn't had any relief yet.  I sank to my
knees to suck him, but he reached down, grabbed each arm,
and pulled me back up.

"No, no, Senor Leon."  He managed to look both sinister and
seductive.  "That's not what I have in mind."  We'd been
standing beside the bed the whole time, and he pushed me
backward onto it.  He grabbed my ankles and swung me around
so that I was lying lengthwise rather than across the bed.
Then he crawled between my legs.  I thought he was going to
suck me again, but instead he began rimming me.

Now there was an experience I'd never had before!  It was
pretty amazing when he had his fingers up my ass, but this
was incredible!  I soon caught on that he wasn't primarily
trying to give me pleasure.  He was just using his mouth,
tongue, and spit to get me lubed up.  The he spat on his
hand and spread it over that very long, hard cock.  I
wondered if maybe we should have saved some of that cum.

I was very much aware that the only cock I'd ever had up my
ass was Tim's modest tool.  Raul's was as long as Chaz's,
though not such a bludgeon.  I had wanted Chaz to do me, but
I care for Chaz.  I wasn't sure what I felt about Raul,
except that he was one hot and horny fucker who was about to
fuck me.  It was call this off now or take it.  Oh well, in
for a penny, in for a pound, as my English grandma used to
say.  Besides, what he had been doing with his tongue made
my ass want to reach out and grab him.

I raised my butt off the bed a little, and Raul stuck a
pillow under it.  Then he began sticking his hard rod into
me.  I wish he had used something slicker than spit because
it hurt going in more than Tim had hurt me.  I grunted, and
he stopped.

"Sorry, amigo.  I'll wait a moment."

"Thanks, man," I said.  When the pain subsided, I opened my
eyes, looked at him, and nodded.  He looked me in the eye,
grinned, and rammed the rest of that long dong into me.  I
said something like "Oh, shit!!"  It felt as if my whole
insides were being rearranged.  Certainly it made me long
for Tim's nice dick there instead of Raul's.

Reminding myself that he had been trying to get off all day and
hadn't, I said,"OK, stud, go ahead."

Did he ever go ahead!  He kept looking at me, smiling, his
eyes boring into mine.  And he began to pump, slowly at
first, then faster and faster.  The feeling of fullness
subsided somewhat, and he began to hit my button on just
about every stroke.  We got wild together.  He was
completely silent, but the procession of looks on his face
was fascinating.  He smiled, he grinned, he grimaced, he
looked pained, he looked angry; but he looked steadily at
me.  I was mesmerized by the feelings associated with being
fucked for the second time in my life, with having such a
big cock inside me, and with his constant hammering of my
nut.

For somebody who had wanted to get his rocks off all day, he
took long enough to come.  He fucked and he fucked and he
fucked.  You wouldn't believe this was the same guy who came
in his pants on top of me in that bed a week earlier.
Whatever the cause, he took much longer to come than Tim had
or than I ever had when I was on top of either man or woman.
Maybe he knew how to hold it back to prolong the pleasure.
I didn't care, though, because I was fully into his hard,
steady, intense, rhythmic plowing of my ass.

Having just come, I didn't expect to have another orgasm.
Even without the prospect of coming again, though, I was
enjoying the coupling as much, I think, as Raul.  We got
sweaty together, began to breathe hard together, and then he
came.  He had never made any effort to kiss me or touch my
cock.  As he had the week before, he arched his back, shut
his eyes, threw his head back and shuddered.  And came.  And
came.  I could actually feel his cock's spasms inside me,
seven or eight times, I think.

He held his position for a moment while his cock deflated.
He pulled out and rolled onto his side.  Then he lay on his
back, hands clasped behind his head.  "Do you know you
sounded like you were growling while I fucked you, leon?  I
knew you'd be one hot lay!  Gracias, amigo!"

`Mercy Miss Lucy,' I thought.  `This is going to be one hell
of a summer!'  Then: `I wonder what Chaz is doing.'


(Chapter 14, "Cedric at Home," will be posted in about two
weeks.  -T.M.)