Date: Thu, 8 May 2003 11:14:24 -0700 (PDT)
From: Tim Mead <timmead88@yahoo.com>
Subject: Dr. Tim and the Boys, ch. 19

The following story is fiction.  It involves sexually-explicit erotic
events between men.  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 consent.

I need to take a moment here to thank the other members of the "Nifty Six"
for their advice and support.  I think every one of them had some hand in
helping me with this chapter.  Tom, my patient editor, who's been busy with
his own series, "The TNT Files," wrote the Steve/Chaz scene.  Love ya,
Tommy!

When I posted chapter 18, I announced that the first chapter of my new
story would be posted this week.  I'm delaying the appearance of that story
for a while.  I am going to be away for three weeks and will post chapter
20 of this series as soon as I get back..

timmead88@yahoo.com
Chapter 19: Who is This Walkin' Man?

TREY:


The morning after that incredible foursome, Chaz and I went back to our
apartment.  We showered and then had breakfast.  I had laid in provisions
because I knew how much fuel it took to get my buddy, now my lover, ready
for the day.

After juice, bacon, eggs fried in the bacon drippings, toast, and coffee,
we redded up the kitchen.  Now, it was time for a talk.  He surprised me
when he took the lead.  He gave a jerk of his head toward the living room
and walked that way.  Of course, I followed.

When we had both sat, me on the sofa and him in a chair facing it, he
started.

"Um, Trey, do you think you could get rid of Raul?"

"I understand why you ask that.  But we sort of told him he could be here
for the summer, didn't we?"

"Yeah, I guess.  But, look Tiger, how can I go home and you still living
with him, especially when you two have been fuck buddies all summer?  I
mean, it IS you and me now, isn't it?  Are you going to be able to resist
when he asks you to do him?"

What could I say to that?  I held my arms out to him, and he came and sat
beside me.  I put my arms around him and lay my head on his shoulder for a
while.  God, he smelled good, like soap and deodorant and himself!  He
kissed the top of my head and squeezed me to him.

I had to reassure him somehow, so finally I replied to his comment.

"Big guy, I love you.  I promise I'll see if Raul can make other
arrangements.  But if he can't, and we DO sort of owe him the use of your
room for the rest of the summer, I promise you, babe, that there will be no
more sex with him.  Got that?  I'm going home next week.  I want to see
Robbie and I need to talk with Uncle Jack.  So I won't be around Raul.
Besides, like I told you, what he and I were doing was just sex.  I knew
before you came back to campus that what I really wanted was you."

"Well, Mr. Withers, I know you said that.  But, as they say, `out of sight,
out of mind.'  I worry, babe, that while I'm home washing cars, you'll be
here making out with that sexy Spaniard."

I pulled back and looked him straight in the eye.  "Chaz, what do I have to
do to make you know that I love you?  That I am not interested in Raul?"

"How `bout wearin' a chastity belt?"

Well, that broke me up, and I howled with laughter, which Chaz joined in
on.

"Yeah, right, babe," I said.  "I'll run right down to Wal-Mart and buy
one."

"You know," he said thoughtfully, "I think I'll come back to campus.  The
day camp job is over, and my dad doesn't pay me enough detailing cars to
make it worth while.  I might have to find a job here for the rest of the
summer, but I imagine that wouldn't be hard.  I DO have contacts, you know.
Coach Brzynsky could put me on to somethin', I'll bet."

"That would be great, babe.  Maybe you could be here by the time I get back
from Richmond.  But there IS the problem of Raul."

"I suppose I could just scare the shit out of him," Chaz said with a
straight face.

"Chaz," I exclaimed, "you wouldn't!"

He grinned.  "'Course I wouldn't.  But you don't want me to share my bed
with him when I get back, do you?"

"No way!"

"OK, Tiger, then you'll just have to find a way to get rid of Senor Raul."

As Chaz gave me the goofy smile I love, it became totally clear to me that
this guy had been hiding behind a façade for as long as I had known him.
He had never been the dumb jock he pretended to be.  He was not only sexy,
he was damned smart, too, and a lot more sensitive than I had ever
suspected.

"Well, Chaz, when you come back, Raul could sleep with me."

He put one big hand on either side of my face.  "Don't mess with me, boy,"
he said, smiling, "or I'll have to remind you who's the dominant partner
here."

My cock got hard instantly.  `Dominant partner, huh?'

"Studly, if you are really coming back, I'll figure out how to get rid of
Raul if I have to put him in a hotel for the rest of the summer."

"There you go!" he said, beaming at me.  "I knew you'd come up with
something!"

We sealed the bargain with a long, slow, tender love-making session with
Chaz as top this time.  I think I am a natural topper, but when it's Chaz
inside me I feel fulfilled, totally joined with the big guy.  Life is good.

Later, after a nap in each other's arms, we showered together.  Then, after
we dressed again, I walked to the ute with him.  Outdoors, in public, he
seemed reticent about showing affection, so we shook hands and promised
we'd see each other when I got back to Ohio.

"Call me, Tiger?"

"You know it, babe," I replied.

He waved and drove off.


* * *


CHAZ:


I had a lot to think about as I drove down I-71 toward home.  What a
weekend!  First there was Friday night.  I was so relieved to find out that
Trey didn't love Raul and that he did love me that I almost cried.  Me!
Chaz, the macho man!  And we made love.  It wasn't just sex.  It was way
more than that.  Then there was that great day with Markie and his Pops and
Ced and Tim.  And what about last night?  Whoooweee!  Was that ever hot,
having Trey in me and knowing he loved me!  And seeing Tim first tease Ced
and then get it on with him made the whole thing with Trey even hotter!
This morning our sex was so gentle.  God, he's a sexy guy.  And he loves
me!  Never thought I'd be so happy.  And I'm gay, or bi, or something, and
whatever it is, I don't give a shit.  I've got the Tiger!

When I got home, I hugged Ma.  She asked if I had had a good weekend, and I
told her I had.  She asked how Trey was, and I told her he was fine.  Dad
was in the family room watching a Reds game.  Now there was a loyal fan!  I
took my bag up to my room, had a long piss, and came back downstairs.  Dad
and I watched the game together.  The Reds were beating the Cubs, about the
only team they can beat these days.  Dad was happy, I think, because the
home guys were winning.  He went and got us beers, and we watched the game
until supper.  It was just over when Ma called us to the table.

When she served the pork chops, green beans with bacon, and potatoes, she
winked at me and said, "Well, honey, at first I'd planned to make meatloaf.
But at Ethel's I got this impression you didn't much like it.  To be
honest, I'd never have made it so often if Trey hadn't told me it was your
favorite dish."

I blinked.  "Tiger said that?"

"Yes, he did.  When he was here at Easter.  Remember?"

I remembered his visit, all right.  That bastard!

I said, "Ma, you know, I think I've had enough meatloaf to do me for a
while.  I'm glad you made pork chops instead."  I gave her a hug.

She beamed.  We all sat down and dug in.

When they wanted to know about the weekend, I told them about going to
Meadville to Mark's house.  They wanted to hear all about that and about
Stan.  Ma wanted to know what the food was and what it was like.  You know,
that kind of stuff.

Finally, I brought up something I had been thinking about for most of the
drive home.

"Guys, I think I'm going to go back to campus for the rest of the summer."

Dad didn't say anything, but he didn't look happy.  Ma said, "Oh, honey,
why would you want to do that?"

"Well, my job with the City is finished.  I don't see any point hanging
around here doing odd jobs.  I'd rather be with my friends."

"What about finding another counseling job?" Dad asked.  "And, you know, I
might need you here."

"For what, for Pete's sake?  To cut the grass and take care of the yard?
It sure as hell doesn't take any talent to wash cars at the dealership, and
you never let me do anything else.  I'm gonna be a college senior this
fall, and you've never offered to let me learn anything about the business.
Why shouldn't I go be with my friends?"

Ma was shocked because I had never talked to Dad that way before.
"Charles, what's gotten into you, dear?  Did something happen this weekend
to upset you?"

"No, Ma, but something happened to let me now where I want to be.  And I
don't see any reason to stick around here.  I'm not gonna live here after I
graduate next spring.  I'll have a job and be living somewhere else anyway.
So what's wrong if I don't spend my summer here?  All my friends have moved
on.  My best friends are at the university, and I want to be with them."

"Oh, honey," Ma said, "we see so little of you.  After you graduate we will
see even less of you, unless you get a job around here somewhere.  What is
it, dear, have you found a special person at school?"

'Whoa!  Does she know?'  Then I realized she was thinking of a girl.

"Like I said, all my friends are on campus.  I don't see what the big deal
is.  I'll come home for a weekend before fall term starts."

"Chaz, you're being childish.  If your mother wants you here, the least you
could do is stick around until school starts.  I'd like to have you here,
too, you know.  Maybe I can find something for you to do at one of the
dealerships."

"Yeah, like what?  Sweeping floors?  Dad, I'm twenty-one.  Like I said, I'm
a senior at the university.  I know, you think because I'm a jock I'm
stupid.  I'm not.  I could learn about the business, but you've never acted
like you trusted me around the customers.  You're afraid I'd do something
to lose you money or embarrass you!"

"Charles," Ma said, "that's no way to talk to your father!"

"Sorry, Ma, but it's the truth.  So, I'm going."

"Chaz," my dad said, getting very red in the face, "I think you had better
consider that decision very carefully."

This wasn't going well at all.  I was frustrated that they couldn't see
things from my point of view.  "OK, let me tell you something, Dad, that
may change your mind.  You may not want me around anyway when you know that
I like guys as well as women.  Remember David that you met a couple of
weeks ago?  The one who brought in that red Corvette for detailing?  Well,
he and I had wild sex.  How do you like them apples?"

I got up, left the table, slammed out the door, and took a long walk.
There aren't many sidewalks in Indian Hill, but at least there wasn't much
traffic that late on a Sunday evening.  I walked uphill and down, passing
places I hadn't been in years.  I walked until it got dark.  There was the
faint sound of traffic, far away, but I could hear the crickets making
their racket, along with the sound of my sneaks on the pavement.  The air
was sweet with the smell of newly-cut lawns.

It was after 9:00 by the time I got home, and I realized I was bushed.  It
had been a busy weekend, with lots of time in the car, with lots of great
times with my buddies, and with three bouts of fantastic sex.  I decided I
would just go upstairs, get a shower, and crash.  The next day was Monday,
and I'd pack up and go back to campus.

Dad was waiting for me in the family room when I got back.

"Your mother's gone to bed, Chaz, but you and I need to talk."

I didn't feel like talking right then, but I knew, after what I'd said at
the supper table, we had to deal with it.  "OK, Dad," I said, flopping down
on the couch.  "Let me have it with both barrels."

He smiled a kind of a tight smile.  "Well, you know, son, that really was a
double whammy you laid on your mother and me.  When you slammed out of
here, and you've got a pretty childish habit of doing that, you know, I had
to calm your mother down.  Telling us what you did and then leaving like
that upset both of us.  Whatever else you do tomorrow, you had better
apologize to her."

"Yeah, I know.  I'm sorry."

Dad sat in "his" chair.  There was a glass of neat scotch on the table
beside him.  He took a sip.  "OK.  First things first.  About the gay
thing.  Oh, I suppose it's `bi,' isn't it?  I know you've done your share
of screwing around with women."

Damn.  This wasn't the kind of thing you're supposed to talk about with
your old man, so I just nodded and said, "Yeah."

"What I'm trying to say is, well, you know I'm not very religious.  We go
to church every Sunday, but that's mostly to please you mother.  The point
is, I really don't have any religious hang-ups about sexual orientation.  I
don't like to think about what gays do to and with each other.  But that's
neither here nor there."

"Let me get this straight, Dad.  You're OK with me being bi?"

He smiled another tight little smile.  More like a wince, actually.  "In
principal, I have no problem with it.  It will take a long time, I'm
afraid, before I'm really `OK' with my son being a bisexual."

I started to say something, but he held up his hand.

"Let me get this out.  I've been rehearsing it while you were gone."

"Oh, sure."

"What I want to say is that, if you are SURE that's the way your are, then
so be it.  If you are truly bI-sexual, I hope that you'll find a good
woman, marry her, and be faithful to her.  Part of that's selfish.  I've
always looked forward to having grandchildren.  But part of it is because
if you find the right woman, you'll have to take so much less crap from
society."

"I hadn't thought of grandkids.  Well, I have always been careful that
there weren't any unexpected ones, if you know what I mean."

His smile was a little more relaxed this time.  He took another sip of his
scotch.

"Look, son, what I want for you, what your mother wants, too, I'm sure, is
for you to be happy.  If you find a guy who is THE person for you, you must
realize you both will have tough going.  But times are changing, and the
two of you will manage if you really love each other.  And you can count on
me for love and support.  Always.  I want you to know that."

Damn.  I felt like such a jerk.  I dropped that bomb on them and then
slammed out like some kid.  And Dad was just so much more accepting of me
being bi than I ever thought he would be.  Shit!  College senior,
twenty-one or not, I still have a lot of growing up to do.  I got up and
went over to dad, sat on the arm of his chair, and hugged him.  He
stiffened up at first.  The Greeley men are not traditionally huggers.  But
then he relaxed and even patted my arm.

He cleared his throat, took another sip of scotch, and said, "Chaz, there's
more.  You mother knew I was going to say all of this to you.  What comes
next, she doesn't know about."

I got up and went back over to the sofa.  Dad surprised me by leaving his
drink on the table and coming over to sit at the other end of the sofa,
twisted around so he could face me.

"Now we come to what is for me more important.  You must understand that I
never kept you at arm's length so far as the business is concerned because
I didn't think you could handle it.  You think I don't know there's a
pretty smart guy under that dumb jock pose you hide behind?  You can't fool
your parents, Chaz.  Marie and I know you better than you think."

That wasn't the first time I had been accused of hiding behind being a
jock.  Maybe I needed to think about that.

"You know, your granddad worked hard all his life to establish and build up
our dealerships.  He never had much fun.  He just worked his tail off.  He
made his fair share of money, and we all lived well enough.  But just when
he and my mother had time to really enjoy life, he died of a coronary, as
you know."

I never saw much of Grandpa Greeley.  Gramma Bess was a sweetheart, though,
and I really miss her.

"Chaz, I'm 46 years old.  I've decided I'm not going to let the business
own me.  I'm going to delegate, to let the general managers of each
dealership do the lion's share of the work.  Marie and I are going to do
some traveling."

"That's great, dad!"  But what did that have to do with why we were having
this discussion?

My puzzlement must have shown on my face, because he said, "What does all
this have to do with you?  I have kept you at arm's length from the
business because I thought you could do something more with your life.  I
learned after freshman year that our dream, yours and mine, of you going to
the NBA wasn't going to happen.  But you were in college, and you could be
anything you wanted to be.  I was disappointed when you chose to major in
phys. ed.  But that was your choice.  If there's something in that field
that will bring you satisfaction, fulfillment, go to it!  If you want to
change fields, get into something that excites you, something you will
really enjoy doing for the rest of your life, DO IT!  Whatever you decide,
your mother and I will be here for you."

I leaned over, put my head in his lap, and cried like a kid.  He stroked my
hair.

After a few minutes, I sat up.  He handed me his handkerchief to wipe my
eyes with.

"Dad, I've been such a jerk.  I'm really sorry, man."

"Son, I'm really sorry you thought I didn't respect you.  Can you
understand that I was just trying to protect you?"

"Yeah, dad, I see that now.  I'm sorry we didn't have this talk a long time
ago."

"That's my fault, Chaz.  I wish we had, too."  He went over and took a big
swallow of the scotch, winced, set the glass down, and turned back to me.

"Now, I've got to go to work in the morning.  If you want to go back to
campus tomorrow, I'll understand.  Tell me, is it Trey?"

Both Ma and Dad would immediately assume that, of course.  "Yeah."

"I don't understand how you could have lived with him for three years and
are just now discovering that you have sexual feelings for him."

"Dad, you wouldn't believe how that came about.  Someday, maybe I can tell
you, but I'm not ready to do that yet, OK?"

"OK.  Now, all you need to do tomorrow is persuade Marie that you need to
go back to Trey."

"Oh, sheesh!  That ain't gonna be easy!"

He grinned.  "Oh, I suspect she'll understand.  I'm sure you'll find a way.
Now, give me another hug.  I've got to go to bed."  We hugged, patting each
other on the back as we did.

"Dad, I don't deserve you and Ma, you know.  Thanks for being so
understanding."

"Hey, you overgrown pup, you're my kid.  I love you."


The next morning I awoke, as usual, with a stiffie.  I jacked off slowly,
thinking of that session Saturday night with Ced, Tim, and the Tiger.
Looking into Tim's face as Ced was long-dicking him, and then being able to
look up and see Ced's face, too was fantastic.  And then I remembered what
it felt like to have Trey going in and out of my ass, hitting my nut nearly
every time.  Finally, I thought of the feelings I had for the three of
them.  I had even kissed Tim.  That was such a great moment.  I think it
meant that whatever shit there had been between us was over.  I felt like
he was one of US.  It was all so great!

Somewhere in all of those thoughts, I came all over myself.  I reached
down, picked up the briefs I had dropped beside the bed the night before,
and cleaned myself up.  I shaved, showered, dressed, and went downstairs.

Ma was in the kitchen, and she had made biscuits and fried sausage patties.
There was hot coffee in the machine.  She asked how I wanted my eggs.  I
gave her a kiss on top of her head and asked for fried.  Ma can baste them
the way I like them better than anybody.  She reached up, put her hand on
my cheek for a minute, and then broke three eggs into the hot bacon
drippings.

I grabbed a big glass of o.j. and sipped on it while the eggs were frying.

"Dad gone to work?" I asked as I sat down to tuck into that breakfast.

"Yes, hon, there's just us, and we need to talk."

As I put honey on a biscuit and munched it, she went on, "I just don't
understand it, dear.  You've always seemed so -- normal.  Are you SURE?"

"Yeah, Ma, I'm sure.  It took me a long time to figure it out, but I'm
sure.  And what's `normal,' anyway?  Three, no four, of the greatest people
I know are either gay or bi-sexual.  Smart, caring, decent guys.  If they
aren't `normal,' I don't wanna be either!"

"Well, dear, this has been a shock to your father and me.  I suspect this
all came out because we didn't want you to go back to campus just yet.
When would you have told us otherwise?"

I honestly didn't know, and I told her so.

"I assume Trey has something to do with all this?  Is he the one?"

"Yeah, Ma, he is.  I need to be with him."

"Trey is a wonderful boy.  Is he, uh, like you?"

"Ma, I don't think it's a secret that I like girls.  And, even if we've
never talked about it, I think you know I'm no virgin.  Same with Trey.  We
like women, and we've had our share."

She didn't say anything, but she nodded.

"The word, and it was hard for me to use it until recently, too, is
`bi-sexual.'"

"I guess I can get used to that, and to what it stands for, but you have to
realize it will take me a while.  You know I love you, don't you?"

I got up, went around the table, pulled her to her feet and gave her a big
hug.

"Yeah, Ma, I know.  And thanks."

She kissed my cheek.  "What hurts me most, baby, is that you'll never give
me grandbabies."

I smiled and said, "Ma, I'm BI, remember.  Don't give up hope.  I want to
be with Tiger now, but who knows what will happen down the road?  Sheesh!
I'm not about to marry him -- or anybody -- at this stage of my
life."

She seemed relieved.  She patted my cheek again and said, "So, my big
manchild, go back to campus.  Give Trey a hug for me when you see him.  And
call me when you get there, without fail.  OK?"

I hugged her again, kissed her cheek, and said, "Sure, sweetheart."

I put on some old cutoffs and went out to the garage.  I trimmed the hedges
and then fired up the mower and cut the lawn.  That was the least I could
do since they both had been so understanding.  Then I took time to wash,
dry, and repack all the dirty clothes I'd brought home.  While the laundry
was in the dryer, I took another shower.  Then I put all the stuff back in
the Tahoe, hugged and kissed Ma, and headed north on I-71, feeling pretty
terrific.  I was itching to get back to Trey and wondering what we were
going to do about Raul.  If he had to stay on for a few days until he could
find someplace else, he could stay in my room.  I'd just bunk in with Trey.
Raul sure wasn't gonna out us.

When I got to the apartment, no one was there.  Then I remembered.  `Chaz,
you freakin' moron, Trey just went to Richmond for the week!'  How could I
have forgotten something like that?

There was no sign of Raul, either. Nothing.  It was as if he had never been
there.  What was with that?

I grabbed the phone and called Ma to let her now I got back safe.  Then I
dialed Trey's cell phone.  He was on the Pennsylvania Turnpike.  I told him
where I was and asked about Raul.  He told me that Raul had found a
boyfriend, Jason, the guy he'd gone to Toledo with over the holiday
weekend, and had come late last night to get all his stuff and move out.
Go figure.

Then Trey asked what I was doing back at the apartment, and I told him the
whole story.

"Wow, babe.  That's major stuff.  Do you need for me to come back?"

"No, Tiger, I know you want to see Rob and you need to talk with your Uncle
Jack.  I can use the time here just to get some things straightened out in
my head.  But how soon can you get back here?  I miss you already."

"Well, it's Monday.  I can shorten things a bit.  I'll be there by
dinnertime Friday.  Maybe we can get together with Ced and Tim over the
weekend, but let's keep Friday evening for ourselves."

"Cool!  Sounds like a plan, Henry Lee!"


* * *


TIM:


After the first summer term, I finally had time to do some meaningful work
on my project, which was to see if I could make a publishable book out of
my dissertation on dos Passos.  I seemed to be living in the stacks at the
university library.  I was planning in a couple of weeks, once I had made
sure just what I needed to read, on going to spend a few days at the
Jones's, so I could use the Case Western Reserve Library and the Cleveland
Public, which has a pretty amazing collection.  And, of course, when Ced
got home from his dad's law offices, he and I would have our evenings --
and our nights -- together.  That was an appealing prospect.  The
weekends-only thing was getting old.

On Tuesday morning after my run, I stopped by the office to pick up some
notes I wanted to take home and work on.  I was sitting at my desk in my
running outfit, a little sweaty, when Chaz came in.  He carefully shut the
door.  I stood up to shake hands with him, but he came around and hugged
me, sweat and all.

When he released me from the hug, he beamed and said, "The last time I saw
you, I kissed you, remember?  I think we're beyond shaking hands, Tim."

I could feel the blush covering my chest, then spreading up my neck to my
face.  That whole evening had been so hot.  Being able to look both Trey
and Chaz in the face while Ced was doing me and Trey was doing Chaz was an
experience I'll never be likely to forget.  I don't think I'm one for
orgies, but that was a great evening.  Each of us remained connected to his
partner, but we had the experience of sharing the whole thing with our
friends.  And it was Chaz who initiated that kiss.  When he did that, I
knew that he and I were at last over all those problems we used to have
with each other.

We both sat.  "So, Chaz, it's great to see you.  But what brings you back
to campus?  Or perhaps I can guess?"

Trey has told me that he loves Chaz's boyish smile, and I can see why.
"Two things, really, and, yeah, you're right.  I want to be with Trey, not
at home, and there's really not much reason to hang around Cincinnati."

"But why this week?" I asked.  "Trey's gone to Richmond, hasn't he?"

"Yeah, well, I forgot that when I came back yesterday.  But I needed to get
away from home anyway.  Ya see, I came out to my parents.  Besides, you and
Markie are here, and Ced on weekends."

I was stunned for a moment.  Then I was overcome with admiration for Chaz.
Whatever caused it, he had had the guts to come out to his parents, whereas
I hadn't been able to find a way to tell mine.

"Chaz!  Are you OK?  How'd it go?"

So, he told me all about blurting it out and then the remarkable
conversation he and his dad had later that evening.

"That's wonderful.  Your dad sounds like a great guy.  But what about your
mother?  How is she taking it?"

"When I got up yesterday morning, I talked some more with Ma about it.  She
was surprised, but she seemed to be handling it.  Like Dad, she seemed to
understand why I needed to come back here.  I guess all three of us needed
some time to think about things.  You know, Dad may be right about me
changing majors, and I've got an idea I want to check out about that with
my advisor.  So, I thought I'd at least come by and say `hi'.  Glad I
caught you."

"I am, too.  Listen, Chaz, I'm proud of you, guy.  It took courage to come
out to your parents.  Courage that I haven't found yet.  I am really glad
that they are so accepting.  You're pretty lucky, you know.  Now, stop by
or call me anytime you feel like talking about any of this, OK?"

"Thanks, Tim.  I think I knew that, but I appreciate you making the offer.
Speaking of stopping by, Trey will be back Friday.  He wondered if the four
of us might do something together over the weekend.  Not Friday night, you
know," he said winking at me.

I chuckled.  "That would be great.  I'll talk with Ced about it when he
calls me this evening, and I'll get back to you."

"How is Ced?"

"He's fine.  He is finding what his dad has him doing pretty boring.  He'd
rather be working with people than looking up case histories.  But he
understands that he's got to have that experience."

"Well, Ced's a people person fer sher.  I'm looking forward to seeing both
of you this weekend. You'll call me?"

"Sure will.  And remember, Chaz, you know where I am if you need me."

He gave me another hug, opened the door and went into the hall.  He saw and
began talking with someone just outside my field of vision.

"Hi."

"Hey, how ya doin'?"

"Great, thanks. You're Chaz Greeley, Trey's roommate, aren't you?"

"Yeah, and you're Steve, sorry I don't remember your last name, dude."

"Metz."

"Steve Metz, right!  Trey has told me some about you.  Hey, you wanna have
some coffee?"

"Sure, why not?  I just wanted to talk to Dr. Mead for a minute."

"Then why don't I meet you in, say, 20 minutes at the cafeteria in the
Union?"

"Sounds great, Chaz.  See you there in a few."

Then Steve knocked on my door frame.

"Good morning, Steve, come on in!  How are you?  And what brings you here
this morning?"

He came in and sat down.  I noted that there were no longer such prominent
nicotine stains on his fingers.  I wondered if he had quit smoking.  If so,
could it have been because of the kids?

He smiled as broadly as I've ever seen him smile.  "First, I wanted to tell
you that I've been accepted into the nursing program.  I start this fall.
And I wanted to thank you for your letter.  They said they were taking a
chance on me because my GPA isn't all that high, but your letter had helped
convince them."

"Steve, that's just great.  I'm really happy for you."

"Well, professor, I owe it all to you.  Thanks, man.  I really mean it."

"Oh, you're too modest.  I just recognized what's there.  And I'm sure
you'll show them that I was right."

"I won't let you down, if that's what you mean."

"I know that, Steve.  Now, what else is going on with you?  Still got your
fan club of kids?"

His face fell.  I wondered what could have happened.

"Well, you've heard the good news.  But there's some bad news, too."

"Nothing wrong with any of the kids, I hope?"

"Yesterday somebody threw a brick through the living-room window of my
apartment.  They had folded this and fastened it to the brick with a thick
rubber band."  He handed me another sheet of printer paper.

On it was printed the following, again in a large font:

"PREVERT: STAY AWAY FROM THEM KIDS, OR WORD WILL GET AROUND THAT THE BIG
BASKITBALL PLAYER IS A PEDDLEFIILE.  YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!"

I wondered about the spelling.  Was it someone who was only semi-literate,
or someone pretending to be.  These days, owning a computer didn't say
anything about one's level of intelligence, literacy, or education.

"Do you think it was the same person or persons who left the note on your
car?"

"Who else would it be?"

"Do you have any idea who they are?"

"Well, there are three townies, high school juniors or seniors by the looks
of them, who hang out at the pool.  They strut around in their speedos for
the high school girls.  Seems like they're always grabbing their baskets.
Like all the other high school kids, they've got tats.  This one guy has a
two-headed snake just above the cleft of his rear end.  His suit only
covers up part of it.  They've never said anything to me, but I see them
looking at us and talking when I'm with the kids sometimes."

I waited for him to continue.

"But why `pervert'?  I'm not a pedophile, Dr. Mead.  I wouldn't think of
hurting those kids.  I love them.  As you know, it's through them that I
finally figured out what I want to do with my life."

"There's no accounting for the sickness of some people's minds, Steve.  Of
course you aren't a pedophile.  And you are always outside in plain sight,
aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"And you would never touch one of them inappropriately, would you?"

"Hell, no!  Pardon my language."

"Have you thought of going to the police?"

"It scares me a little that they know where I live, but I don't think I
have anything to show them except that sheet of paper with the brick.  And
they'd probably not be much interested.  Boy, my super was pissed, though.
I had to pay for a new window."

"Seems to me the police should know about this.  At least promise me that
if anything else like this happens, you WILL go to them.  And call me
anytime if you need me.  OK?"

"OK.  Thanks, professor.  I appreciate everything you've done for me."  He
stood up, so I did, too.

"If there's ever anything I can do, you'll let me know?"

We shook hands.

"Oh, yeah.  Now, I'm supposed to meet Chaz Greeley for coffee.  Trey has
told me a lot about that big dude."

"I think you'll like Chaz, Steve.  Enjoy your talk with him."

"I will.  And thanks again."


* * *


STEVE:

All in all, I felt pretty good when I left Dr. Mead's office.  Of course,
it worried me that somebody thought I was a pedo.  These two incidents
kinda freaked me out.  I felt like I was being watched by hostile eyes.  I
knew I had a good thing going with the kids.  I didn't want to lose the
easiness in my interacting with them, didn't want to have to monitor my
behavior around them.  When I felt a kid needed a hug from me, he or she'd
get that hug, dammit!

As I walked to the Union, I allowed myself to dwell a bit on the topic of
Tim Mead.  What a great teacher he was!  How he'd seen through that
smart-ass attitude of mine, had recognized me for the lost child I was, and
had shown me a way out of the daze I'd been floating in!  I just hoped I
could do something similar for one of my kids one day!

A lot of good things had happened in my life since that first talk with
Mead.  Trey Withers, especially.  We were becoming friends.  Though I
really wondered if there wasn't a hidden agenda in his actions towards me.
Well, maybe I could learn something about that from Chaz.  I had taken
Jones and Withers for arrogant jocks, and thought Greeley was THE
stupid-macho-jock poster boy.  Those light blue eyes of his seemed cold to
me.  Well, I'd been way wrong about the first two, and was pretty sure by
now that Chaz'd prove me wrong in a big way, too.  All these thoughts made
me a bit apprehensive about our oncoming talk.  Could I really ask him if
his roomie was gay?

When I entered the Union, he was already sitting there, nursing a coffee
and a donut.  I got the same and joined him.  Not really knowing how to
start, yet wanting to play it cool, I just mumbled "Hi," and took a bite of
my donut.

"Hi yourself," Chaz returned.  A pause ensued.

"What's up?"  I said, ingeniously.

He inspected me curiously, "Hey, I'm the P.E. major here.  Supposedly I'm
the one lacking in communication skills."

Damn!  I nearly choked on my donut.  Helpfully, Chaz pounded my back while
I succumbed to my coughing fit.  My eyes teared up, but I COULD see that he
was grinning broadly.

"Shit!"  I wheezed.

He chuckled.

"Yeah," he agreed, obviously very pleased with himself, "appearances can be
SO deceiving!"

I could only agree with that.  He continued, "I take it everything went
well with Dr. Mead?"

I nodded, and asked, "Now it's Dr. Mead?  Not `the Iceman'?"

"Oh, that.  Yeah, Trey invented that one, but that was before we really got
to know him.  He's not like that at all."

Chaz smiled, and suddenly he looked completely different.  I bet there was
more to it than that, something that he wasn't telling me.

"Yeah," I said, "you're right.  It is a stupid name.  Might be fitting for
a lit prof though."

Questioningly, Chaz lifted his eyebrows.

"There's a play," I explained, "called `The Iceman Cometh,' by Eugene
O'Neill.  Anyway, I agree that Mead isn't icy at all.  He has helped me a
lot this term.  Have you heard about that stupid remark I made in his
class?"

"About the French diplomat who didn't notice he was getting it on with a
guy?"  Chaz grinned.  "Yeah, Trey told me about that one."

"Well, afterward he called me in to talk with him.  He really grilled me,
but in a good way.  Asked questions galore to find something that might
interest me and really listened to what I had to say.  Then he invited me
to join his summer course.  First time I really got into things here!  And
damn!  I'm heading for an `A.'  Before, I had only `C's.'"

"Yeah," Chaz said, "that sounds like Tim...uh...Dr. Mead."

He threw me a glance, probably to check if I had noticed his blunder.  I
had, but wasn't about to show it.  He continued.

"So you're going to declare an English major?"

"I thought I would, for a while.  But now I've decided to join the
University's nursing program.  I wouldn't have gotten a place there without
Mead, by the way.  You know, I do well with kids.  Surprised myself, kind
of.  I love having them around, and they are really comfortable with me."

I looked into his eyes for a second, then down, suddenly unsure about his
reaction.  These days, I carried in my mind the picture of my broken
window, the brick on my living room floor, and the word "pervert" . . . .
But I needn't have worried.

"I know what you mean," Chaz said.  "I worked this summer and last as a
counselor at a day camp and had a blast.  Some of the kids really got to
me.  It's nice when they look up to you and trust you, you know."

For a moment he seemed lost in his thoughts.  Was he blushing?  No, not
Chaz.  Must have been a trick of the light.

"Yeah, Chaz, I know just what you mean.  Makes you feel important."

He continued: "Speaking of important, I've heard how you saved a little
girl from drowning.  To those kids you must be some kind of hero."

I nodded.  "I've been surrounded by them ever since.  As I said, I enjoy
it.  But I've had trouble because of it, too."

"Trouble?"  Chaz inquired.  "What kind of trouble?"

"Someone left a note on my car calling me a fag.  Then a few days later,
someone threw a brick through my living room window with a note calling me
a pervert and warning me to stay away from the kids at the pool.  They said
if I didn't word would get around that I'm a pedophile.

Chaz frowned.  "There sure are some assholes out there!  You know, at the
day camp where I worked in Cincinnati this summer, I met a boy named Sammy.
At one point some kids were harassing him, calling him `faggot.'  He was
afraid I'd hate him after that.  So I reassured him that I didn't, told him
it didn't matter to me, and gave him a hug.  If somebody had seen that,
they could have drawn the wrong conclusion, too.  And I'd be the one with
the brick in his living room."

`Throw a brick through Chaz Greeley's window?' I thought to myself.  `Only
somebody with a death wish would do that!'

Out loud I said, "Sorry if this sounds arrogant, but I must say I'm
surprised that you don't seem to have any hang-ups about gays."

His eyes bored into mine, and for a moment there was a certain tension in
the air around us.  Then he relaxed.

"You thought I was some kind of gay-bashing jock, right?"

"Um...yes, sort of."  How embarrassing to be caught stereotyping like
that!

"Relax," Chaz said.  "You'd have been right about that, not too long ago."

I decided to ask the question I'd been aiming at.

"You are buddies with Trey Withers and Ced Jones, right?"

He nodded, and took a sip of his coffee.  "Sure am."

I proceeded.  "I got the impression they're together.  As a couple, I
mean."

He set his mug down with a thump.  Then he asked, very quietly, "What makes
you think that?"

Again I felt unsure, but pressed on anyway.

"Well, you know about the trashy outfits they wore to Mead's class one
day?"

"Yeah," Chaz nodded, "I know the whole story."  He said it with such a smug
look on his face!  Of course, he would know more about it than I did...

"I thought they might be making some kind of a statement with it," I said,
"like outing themselves, something like that.  Though I don't know what
Mead's role in the whole thing was.  They seemed to be really getting to
him somehow, making him nervous, you know?  Well, and then, when I was at
the pool with Trey, I got the feeling he was checking me out."

That seemed to really awaken Chaz's interest.  He straightened up in his
chair.

"He was?  Well, Steve, I've known Trey for quite a while.  We're real
close.  I think if you want to know about his sexuality, you had better ask
him.  I can't imagine him doing anything to make you think that."

I backed off.  He seemed just a bit defensive and I didn't want to
antagonize him.

"OK, Chaz, I'm sorry.  That's none of my business anyway."

"Yeah," Chaz said slowly.  Then he seemed to come to a decision.  "Listen,
Steve, I have to go now.  Why don't you come over to Trey's and my
apartment for a couple beers one of these days?  We could hang, veg out in
front of the tube, somethin' like that?"

I said I'd like that, and we broke our little party off and went our
separate ways.  I had to wipe a bit of sweat from my brow afterward.  Chaz
Greeley was not at all like I'd imagined him to be.  There was something
special about him, just like there was about Trey and Ced.  Quite a group I
was getting to know here.  It might be great to have friends like that.
I'd try hard not to blow the chance.


* * *


CHAZ:

Had coffee with Steve Metz, Trey's new friend, after I stopped in on Tim
Tuesday morning.  Trey says he used to be the kind of guy who sat in the
back of the class and looked superior and bored, that he would occasionally
make some smart comment.  Trey told me about the cock and balls thing he
had said when they were reading that weird play about the diplomat in
China.  But Trey also had told me that Steve seems to have turned a corner
and that he was really good in the class they both took with Tim this
summer.

So, I was glad to get to talk with him for the first time.  I liked him.
He's quiet, sort of serious.  But he really lighted up when I asked him
about his major.  He told me he had just been accepted into the nursing
program, that he wanted to be the kind of nurse who works with kids.  He
seemed really excited about that.  I could relate to that since I had so
much fun working with the kids in the day camp for the last several
summers.

Anyway, I could see why Trey liked the guy.  And he couldn't say enough
about how great Tim was in class and how much Tim had helped him.  Made me
think I had missed out on something by not ever having had one of the
little guy's classes.

After we finished talking, I told Steve that he should come over to the
apartment when Trey got back and we could have some beers and just hang.
He said he'd like that.


I called Ma and talked with her.  She asked if Trey and I would come to
Cinti for a visit before fall term started.  She asked why we didn't plan
to be there for Labor Day.  I told her I'd have to check and see what Tim
and Ced were doing.  I had to explain who Tim was, because I'd never told
her about him.  I had to be careful what I told her because she and Dad
didn't know Ced was gay, and I sure wasn't going to out him to them without
his permission.

Anyways, things were looking up.  As I had hinted to Tim, my talk with Dad
had started me thinking where I was going with my life.  What DID I want to
do?  I was beginning to think I'd like to do something that involved
working with kids.  So I had made an appointment to see my advisor about a
program I'd heard of in the College of Physical Education.


* * *


CEDRIC:

I had packed my bag and had a dressy outfit in a garment bag (just in case)
before I went to work Friday morning.  When I got home from work, I
showered, changed into a tee, some cargoes, and my sandals, threw the stuff
in the 4Runner, and headed for Tim's and my place.

He had called and told me the news about Chaz coming out to his folks.  I
knew it must have been tough for old Chaz, but I knew he would be glad in
the long run not to have to hide that from his parents.  I keep wishing Tim
would tell his folks.  It's such a strain not being honest with the people
you love about who you really are.

Tim had told me that Trey was due back that evening, but that Chaz wanted
Trey to himself.  I could understand that.  Besides, that meant that I'd
have li'l Red to myself, and that suited me fine.  (Gotta watch that.  He
hates to be called "Red.")

It was 7:00 by the time I got there.  After our usual wiggling, grinding,
sloppy kiss of greeting, he handed me a glass of red wine.

"Here," he said, "learn to like something besides the beer you and the guys
are always swilling."

I held the glass up to the light.  Then I took a sniff.  Finally, I took a
sip, swishing it around in my mouth before I swallowed.

"Since this is merlot, I assume we're having something fairly hearty for
dinner?  It's too hot for chili, I've never known you to make spaghetti, so
it must be steak.  This is an appropriate wine for steak.  Fruity.  A
little rough, fairly young, but entirely adequate."

Tim's eyes don't bulge, but he did look surprised.

"Lover, you couldn't grow up in my family without learning about wine.  I
like beer, and I've always drunk it with the guys.  Didn't want to look
effete, you know.  But I know my way around a wine shop."

He popped me on the arm and commented, "Cedric, you are amazing!"

Modestly, I lowered my head and said, "Well, Tim, what can I say?"

"O, for a draught of vintage! That hath been
  Cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth, Tasting of Flora and the
country green,
  Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburst mirth!  O for a beaker full of
the warm South,
  Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
    With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
      And purple-stained mouth;
  That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
      And with thee fade away into the forest dim."

I laughed.  "Whoa, babe.  A dos Passos specialist quoting Keats?  You are
the Renaissance man, li'l stud.  So let's drink a draft or two of this
vintage and fade away together into the forest dim."

He laughed at that.  "A future lawyer who recognizes Keats?  You're
something else yourself.  But there will be no fading away until we've had
our supper, Cedric."

Then we both set in to getting the meal ready.  It was simple, easy summer
fare.  New York strips, baked potatoes, and salad.  He had gotten peach ice
cream at Fein's for dessert.  We chatted about this and that.  After all,
we talked on the phone every day, so each of us knew how the other's week
had gone.

"Ced, I've been thinking."

"Yeah, professor, you do a lot of that."

He laughed at my feeble joke and continued, "We asked Francis and Rodney to
come out this summer.  What would you think of getting tickets for Blossom
and the six of us going?  We could pack a big picnic basket and lie on
blankets under the stars and listen to the Orchestra."

(Any mention of "the Orchestra" in these parts means the world-class
Cleveland Orchestra.)

"Hey, Tim, I know five of us would enjoy that.  Do you honestly think Chaz
would?"

He smiled.  "I think Chaz would come because the rest of us wanted him to.
Besides, he and Trey should meet Rodney and Francis, our fellow
street-brawlers."

I chuckled as I remembered the time earlier in the summer when it was Tim,
in fact, who had almost gotten the four of us into a brawl in the Flats as
we left a gay bar there.

"I'll get in touch with Francis, and I can get the tickets at the Severance
box office.  Any weekend between now and Labor Day, right?"

"Well, the Cincinnati Pops usually does concerts on all three nights of
Labor Day weekend.  You'd have trouble getting here for Friday night,
unless your dad let you go early.  But either that Saturday or Sunday would
be good.  And they have great fireworks after the concert."

"Hey, maestro," I said, "we might just orchestrate a great evening.  I'll
get on it.  We'll mention it to Chaz and Trey when we see them tomorrow."

That conversation had taken place as we got dinner ready.

As we ate, I brought up a subject that I had wanted to raise for a long
time but could never quite get up the nerve to do it.

"Tim, how do you feel about being in the closet?"

"I hate it!"

"Really?"

"Of course.  It isn't honest."

My little lion does have a way of seeing the heart of the matter.

"Then you must have thought about coming out."

"Yes?" he asked, with a question in his voice.

"How do you think they would take it?"

"Who?"

"Your parents."

"Oh, Ced, I'm thinking about coming out not only to them, but generally.
I've been meaning to talk with you about it."

"Woah!  You mean on campus, too?"

"Yes.  Look, Ced, that's why I've wanted us to talk about this.  I know if
I come out it will out you, too.  And I know that might create problems for
you, especially with your teammates.  That's why I've been worrying with
this thing.  I feel as if we're living a lie, that we should come out and
be proudly public about who and what we are.  But I won't do anything to
hurt you, love."

"Timmy, I've been thinking about the same thing.  I was thinking just this
evening as I drove down here that you should come out to your parents.  But
here I am still in the closet to my teammates and most of the campus.  I've
felt like such a hypocrite.  I'd like to be out and open about who I am,
too.  I gotta tell you, though, that will take some thinking about.  What
about Mark, for example?  Everybody knows he and I have been roommates
since freshman year.  They'll think he's gay, too.  So I'd have to talk
with him before I did anything."

"Ced, I know how complex this is.  I don't want to rush you -- or
pressure you.  Let's just think about it, OK?"

"Yeah.  I'll think about it.  And I'll talk with Markie about it, if I can
ever catch him.  He and Lori are always off doin' one thing or another."

Then I thought of something else.

"Tim, there's another consideration, you know."

"What's that?"

"Well, what Dr. Fairchild said to you.  How would coming out impact your
career?  And would you be in trouble because we live together?"

He twinkled at me.  Really.  He reminded me of Stan for a minute.

"I'll take my chances about both.  If being gay gives me career problems
here, I might go somewhere else, where that doesn't matter.  I've been
thinking that if you get into a good law school, I might try to move to be
there with you.  That may be unrealistic, but I'd sure as hell give it a
try.  As for our living together, there must be lots of straight faculty
members whose wives or husbands or live-in partners are students at the
university.  If we got singled out because we're a gay couple, we'd have
cause for civil action, I suspect.  We could always check that out with
Stan."

"Woah, you HAVE thought about all this, haven't you?"

"Indeed I have, babe.  The question for me is primarily whether YOU want to
come out, so I'll let you decide when to bring this topic up again."

It was 9:00 by the time we finished our ice cream.  Fein's fresh peach
isn't quite as good as Stan's home made, but it beats anything you can get
packaged in a supermarket.

We cleaned up the kitchen and then turned on the tv.  We sat on the sofa
with our bare feet on the coffee table and our arms around each other,
watching Friday Night Standup on Comedy Central.

It WAS Friday night, and after the wine and a full meal, we both dozed off.
When I woke up, Timmy was snoozing with his head on my chest.  It was a
sweet sight, but Dr. Tim wasn't going to be allowed to sleep all night that
way.  In fact, I had other plans for the good professor.

"Timmy, babe, wake up.  Let's move to the bed, li'l stud."

He woke up enough to get his teeth brushed, piss, take off his clothes, and
get in bed.  I joined him there a few minutes later.

We kissed for a while, just gentle little kisses with not much tongue.
Then he muttered "G'nite, Ced," and rolled over on his left side.  I
snuggled up close, spooning with him, my dick against his crack, my nose in
his hair, and that's the way we went to sleep.

My plans had to wait, but that was OK.


I was dreaming about Francis giving Rodney a blow job.  As Francis bobbed
up and down, the hoops in his ears were jingling.  Rodney was just lying
there with a bemused little smile on his face.  Then I became aware that my
left tit was being sucked.

I woke up to find Tim really going to town on that tit.  I was lying on my
back and Sneaky was sticking straight up.

I kissed the top of Tim's head and said, "Good morning, lover.  You hungry
or something?"

He quit sucking, looked at me with those amazing green eyes, and said, "I'm
always hungry for you, stud!"

"Well, if you'll just let me pop into the bathroom for a minute, I'll be
back to satisfy whatever hunger you have."

"OK, but hurry!"

When I got back, Tim was lying on his back.  Junior was fully erect and
leaking.

"MMMM, you do look ready, Timmy!"

"It seems like a month instead of a week, Ced.  I WANT you, babe."

"Then you're da MAN.  Take me any way you want to, hotstuff."

I lay down beside him and pulled him over on top of me.  This time the
kisses were hot, wet, wild.  We really were making up for a week apart.  As
we kissed, our hard cocks were pressed together, throbbing, leaking.  Then
Tim slid down and went to work on my right nip, first just circling the tip
of his nose around it, slowly, barely touching.  I could feel his breath on
it, and that gave me goosebumps.  When he licked it so very gently with the
tip of his tongue, I shivered.  He chuckled and began to suck on it in
earnest.

Sneaky burped out another batch of precum.

"Lawzy, massah Tim, dat sho do feel good!" I said.

That brought him up off the tit laughing.  "Is that an invitation for me to
be -- masterful?"

"Well, let's just say this is your party, sir, so get on with it!"

He motioned with his finger that I was to roll over.  "Yassuh!"

"Now cut that out!" he said in his best Jack Benny voice.

I rolled over and stuck my rump in the air as he grabbed the WET.  I knew
there was enough precum on our stomachs to use for lube, but I didn't say
anything.  Like I said, I was just going to let him call the shots this
time.

He stuck one lubed finger up my ass without wasting much time being gentle.
I twitched when he hit my nut.  Then he began to massage me there, and I
purred.

"Who's your daddy?" he asked sweetly.

"You are, sir, as long as you do that."

He stopped abruptly, just leaving his finger there.

"And who's your daddy now?"

"Oh, please, sir, don't stop!  You're always my daddy!"

He took his finger out, and I whimpered, but it was only so he could then
stick two fingers into my hot, hungry chute.

"Oh, daddy, you're too good to me," I said as he worked those two fingers
around, driving me wild.

"And don't you forget it, sonny!"

When he added the third finger and began scissoring them around, I was
squirming and groaning.  I mean, it HAD been a week, and I was ready.  He
was hitting my button repeatedly, and I got a jolt every time he did.

"Please, sir, I need your hot cock up my ass."

"Such a good cub.  You shall have your desire."

He slapped my ass in a way I had come to know as a signal to roll over, so
I did.  He grabbed a pillow to stick under me.  I lifted my legs as he was
rubbing precum all over his cute, hot, hard, cock.

As he put Junior's oozing tip against my rosebud, he said, "And just what
is it you need, sonny?"

Continuing the daddy/son game we had more or less fallen into, I said, "I
need your lovely cock up my ass, sir.  Please, sir!"

He looked down at me, gave me a radiant smile, and said "You got it, babe!"
And I knew that game was over.  It was time for lovemaking.

He entered, looking into my eyes with his intensely green ones.  As he set
up a slow, gentle rhythm, I grabbed my cock and began to pump, matching his
strokes.

"A week is too long to be apart," he said.  "I've missed this, I've missed
YOU.  Where've you been all my life?  Oh, damn, this feels great!  Is it
good for you, babe?  I want it to be good for you."

Even though I was panting, I chuckled.  "Timmy, you're babbling, honey."

He seemed to come back from someplace, looked at me, and began to make that
growling sound he sometimes does.

There was something about the size of Tim's cock that hit my prostate with
just about every stroke.  Francis's much bigger cock didn't to that, for
some reason.  Whatever, I wasn't complaining.  Pretty soon we were both
ready to come.

He stiffened and then began to buck wildly into me.  "Ah, God!  Baby, I
love you SO much," he groaned.

As if on cue, I responded, splashing cum all over my chest and belly.

After his spasms stopped, Tim rested a little while and then pulled his
softened dick out of me. Then he said something about liking the look of my
cum on my belly.  With that, he began licking up all my jizz.  I giggled.
I couldn't help it.

When he had cleaned up my stomach, Tim collapsed on top of me.  It hadn't
been the longest love-making session we'd ever had, but we knew there'd be
others before the weekend was over.  We lay like that for a long time,
eventually drifting off to sleep once more.


* * *


TIM:

Actually it was only Ced who drifted off to sleep.  It was time for my run,
and he often sleeps in while I'm doing that.  Before I got up that morning,
though, I lay there propped up on one elbow for a while, just looking at my
sleeping beauty.

I've mentioned that Cedric is 5' 10", that he and Trey are the same height
and with similar builds.  They both have broad shoulders, lots of
well-defined muscles everywhere, narrow waists.  Ced's aureoles are bigger
than Trey's.  Their cocks are both in the six to seven inch range, I'd
guess, though Trey's gets red when it's hard, and it's thicker than Ced's.
Ced insists his is longer than Trey's.  If he wants to think that, I'm not
going to argue.

Ced's butt is a little more protuberant than Trey's, and I just love it.  I
can't get enough, whether it's putting my dick in it or munching it.

I've never seen a good-looking young guy whose smile was ugly, or anything.
When Chaz smiles, big as he is, he looks like a little boy, and you just
want to hug him.  Trey has this sleepy smile sometimes that I've said
reminds me of a drowsy cat.  But when he turns on the kilowatts, that smile
becomes radiant, and it's leaky dick time.  With his dark, curly hair and
intense blue eyes, Mark has a smile that, like his dad's is sometimes
radiant and often mischievous.

But then there's Ced's smile.  It just bowls me over.  He has brilliantly
white, even teeth and the biggest black eyes.  His smile always looks as if
he is delighted with something.  It fits his sunny disposition perfectly.
Ced has more joie de vivre than anyone I've ever known, and he smiles a
lot.  But when he smiles at me, for me, I melt.  I have actually felt
light-headed sometimes when he flashes me that special, just-between-us
smile.

Now, he's also this luscious color, sort of like coffee with light shining
through it.  Sneaky's a lot darker.  (Why does a fudgesicle come to mind?)

So, to get back to the story, when he erupted all over his chest and
abdomen, there were these big, thick dollops of white jizz scattered from
his pubes to his collarbone.  They looked like vanilla ice cream spooned
over caramel, beautiful to see, but also edible, delectable.

And that reminded me of something I had always wondered about.  He looks
marvelous in the white CK briefs that he always wears because they, too,
contrast with his skin color, and I've wondered if he knows that and wears
them for that reason.  So once I asked him.

"No, babe," he said.  "Francis used to wear black underwear, you know, sort
of `black is beautiful?'  I just started wearing the whities then, to be
different, you know?  He used to say, though, that I looked good in them."

To that I answered, "You look good in cum, too, studly.  It's YOUR color."
He called me his cum-pig.