Date: Sat, 12 Oct 2013 23:06:07 -0700
From: Douglas DD DD <thehakaanen@hotmail.com>
Subject: Diamond Dreams  Chapter 63

The disclaimers that have applied for this entire trilogy still apply. Be
save. Give to the Nifty Archive.

Welcome back to the penultimate chapter of the Mayfield Trilogy. You
will be seeing a few more of the boys for the last time, preparing to
move into the final chapter.

Comments to Douglas at thehakaanen@hotmail.com


CHAPTER 63
THE BOYS OF MAYFIELD

<Friday, June 14, Mayfield>

[SCOTT]

I've spent time in, or at least on, two beds since graduation. The first
bed was Eric's. And it's not what you think—it wasn't all about sex.
We were sitting on it, fully dressed, our backs against the wall; just
two friends hanging out. We did sit a little closer to each other,
touching more than what two other friends our age probably would.
He thanked me from his heart for letting him start the state
championship game.

"That was something only a very special friend would do," he told me.
"I haven't been real good about telling you how much that meant to
me."

"You have always been a special friend to me, even if us being
boyfriends didn't work out."

"It's not your fault you're sexually flawed." He gave me that look I
loved so much when we were little kids experimenting with sex on
this very bed. "I still love you, you know." Yep, that look was one of
love.

"I still love you, too." It was true. I didn't have the sexual urges I had
for him back in middle school, but I loved Eric as a friend. We've been
neighbors since sixth grade and saw a lot of each other through those
years. Even without sex, it was a close friendship.

"Can I get one last kiss in?" he asked me quietly.

There was no way I could turn him down. It was weird deep kissing a
guy, but Eric still kisses as good as anybody. He also gives a blow
job like nobody else. I discovered I could still give one out, too. So,
yeah, I said sitting on his bed wasn't all about sex, but I didn't say
there was no sex at all. It was the first time since middle school, and
the last time ever, and I wouldn't have traded it for sex with anybody
else.

Not even with Tama, whose bed I was in today—with her, of course.
Eric and I didn't fuck. Tama and I did, three times since I showed up
this morning. It was our first time since the session we had with
Danny and Mary Alice a couple of nights before graduation. That
included some alcohol, and was pretty wild and pretty fun.

We weren't going to the same college. I was hanging around here at
Centralia JC for now, while Tama would be almost an hour's drive
away at Evergreen State College. We didn't even know if we'd keep
going out together once college started. But we were boyfriend and
girlfriend right now. She had gotten really good in bed, and I had a
great time. I liked Tama a lot.

What's weird for me as a straight dude, is if somebody made me
choose sex between Tama and Eric, I'd choose Eric. I think it was
that way back in middle school when Tama worked to split us up. In
my heart it was Eric over Tama. My sexuality might have changed
since then, but my heart hasn't.

[MARTY]

I enjoyed starting the day with a nice hot shower. I finished my
morning ritual, stepped out of the shower, dried myself, and took care
of shaving. Rich has a much lighter beard than me and only needed
to shave two or three times a week. I had to shave daily. He loved to
shave in the shower. I didn't, because I always seemed to be looking
into a fog. Leaving the bathroom door open while I showered kept the
mirror clear. All I had to do was fill the sink with hot water and I was
ready to take care of the business of shaving.

There were two sleeping bodies in my bedroom. Rich was sleeping in
the bed and Jeffrey was in a sleeping bag on the floor. Last night was
a night the Hurricane wanted to watch Rich and me have sex. What
he wants to do on the nights he sleeps with us varies, depending on
his moods. Jeffrey has always been his own boy when it comes to
sex, and his nights with Rich and me are no exception.

Some nights he comes into the bed with us, sucking, kissing, licking,
grabbing, and groping, a wild thirteen year old ready to cum multiple
times. Other times he is on the bed with us, helping Rich and me to
cum while letting us get him off. Then there are the nights like last
night, when he wants to sit on the floor and watch Rich and me fuck
while he casually jerks himself off.

Yes, you read that previous paragraph right. Jeffrey turned thirteen
on Tuesday. Of course, we had the usual family outing at Parker's
Steakhouse, making sure to have Peter as our waiter. Jeffrey flirted
openly with the gay waiter, much to the amusement of all of us except
Mrs. B. Our group consisted of the birthday boy, Mr. and Mrs. B,
Sammy, Nicky, Rich, and me.

When we were leaving, Peter pulled me aside. "If that boy was
turning sixteen instead of thirteen, I'd take him home to bed with me
tonight. He did everything but grab my dick, and he came real close
to doing that."

"Admit it, Peter," I said. "You want to take him home tonight as a
thirteen year old."

He laughed and admitted I was right. "Hell, I'd take both of you home
tonight. You've certainly spent a lot of years hinting at it. I take it you
two still..."

"He'll be well taken care of tonight," I said, not wanting to admit
outright I would be bedding the birthday boy, even though I knew that
Peter knew exactly what went on between us.

"Well, for thirteen he is one sexy boy. I'm sure he knows his way
around a bedroom."

"He doesn't need any lessons," I said, laughing.

And he was well taken care of that night. One of his birthday wishes
was to have exclusive time in bed with me.  We don't have anal sex
very often. I'm a bit big for him, but he can handle me with a lot of
prepping. However, when we do it, neither one of us holds back; his
birthday night was one of those nights.

Last night, however, was one of his calm nights. I guess even hyper
thirteen year olds needs to recharge their batteries at times.

It was about a quarter after nine. It was time for me to wake up the
sleeping beauties.  Rich and I had a busy day planned.

"Shit," Jeffrey moaned as I shook him awake. "It's not even dawn
yet."

"Watch the language, J.J."

"Double shit," he said, with a teasing hint of teen rebellion. "I'm going
to my bedroom to get some real sleep." He crawled out of his
sleeping bag, sporting morning wood. He was getting that long-
legged, coltish look that is so appealing in young adolescents. He still
had a slender build, which didn't translate in his beautiful bubble butt.

The commotion woke up Rich who pulled back the covers on the bed.
Morning wood appeared to be contagious, nineteen year old wood
poking out three inches farther than Jeffrey's thirteen year old wood.

"Come on, Jeff, let's go shower," Rich said.

"I'm going to my room so I can sleep in until noon," Jeffrey said,
surprising us both by passing up a rare chance to be alone with Rich.
We said nothing since we both knew not to question the Hurricane's
sexual moods, at least as long as he didn't try doing something
stupid, which happened on occasion.

He reached up and grabbed Teddy, his freddy bear, who was sitting
on a shelf next to Mortimer, my lifelong teddy bear. "Me and Teddy
are going to sleep together. I know Mortimer will miss him, but he'll be
coming back."

"Have a great morning nap," I said.

"I will. And then I'll have some freddy bear sex."

I shook my head. "You're going to hump Teddy?"

"Why not, you humped Mort when you were my age. You told me it
took a lot to clean him up." He looked up at the shelf. "Don't worry,
Mortimer. Teddy is still your boyfriend, and I'll clean all of the jism off
of him before I bring him back."

I stopped him as he started for the door and pointed to his clothes,
which were strewn on the floor. "Aren't you going to get dressed
first?"

"Everybody's seen me naked before."

"Well, you can at least clean up the mess," I said, as I swept my arm
across the area covered by his clothes, sleeping bag, and pillows.

"I promise to clean up when I bring Teddy back." He headed out the
door onto the patio, his jiggling ass just begging to be pinched. I didn't
stop him. One of Jeffrey's many endearing traits is that he was
always as good as his word.

While Rich was showering, my phone rang. I recognized the number
and answered. It was a program guy I knew in Olympia. He made me
an interesting offer, which I accepted. I was flattered to be
considered.

When Rich came back to the bedroom, I told him about the phone
call. "I was asked to fill in as the main July speaker at the young
people's meeting. Apparently the fifteen year old they asked decided
his friends' beer party was more important than two years of sobriety.
Too bad, but it happens. I had my relapses."

"But after you had two years," Rich said. "That's a lot of years to
throw away."

"It is. I thought about it more than once with two years, and even
more."

"Did you accept the offer to speak?"

"Once I saw we had no game scheduled that evening, I said yes."

"You will be so good," Rich said.

It wouldn't be my first time as a meeting speaker, but it would
probably be my biggest audience. It would also be my first one close
to my hometown. I was already both nervous and looking forward to
it, even though the speakers' meeting was a month away.

After Rich finished dressing, we ate some cereal, and crossed the
patio into the main house. Mrs. B was in the solarium reading. Today
was the first day of summer vacation for the boys and she took the
day off to be home as the boys got acclimated to no school on
weekdays. Sammy was sitting on the couch wearing an open pajama
shirt and a pair of white briefs. He might be young, but he already had
a sexual air about him.

I have to give Mrs. B credit; after grousing for a couple of years about
her sons' state of undress around the house, she'd finally given in
and let them dress how they wanted as long as there was no
company. That included during meals. Even the twins' liberal parents
demanded something be worn at the tables during meals.

"Looks like Jeffery was in one of his moods this morning," she
observed.

"Strange as it sounds, I think he's upset school is out," I observed.

"You are probably right. He is a social butterfly. He doesn't do well at
being by himself."

"Rich and I are taking off for the day. Will you be coming to the game
tonight?"

"George and I plan to be there, along with the boys."

"Great. See you then."

Rich and I played for a semi-pro team out of Olympia. It consisted of
mostly college ball players. Our coach at WSU got us spots on the
Capitols. While I was a scholarship player who was slated to see a lot
of playing time at third next year as a sophomore, Rich was a walk-
on. He was a shortstop and pitcher in high school. The WSU coach
liked his bat and arm, but told him that he didn't have the range to be
an NCAA Division I shortstop. He started grooming Rich to be an
outfielder. Rich is playing mostly left field on the Capitols, as well as
doing some relief pitching. There were players from colleges all over
the Northwest on the team, most of them having grown up in
Southwest Washington.

We had a game that evening in Olympia. Rich and I were going to
drive there separately. He was going to meet some of our teammates
for lunch in Oly and then go to the batting cages. I wanted to go to the
noon meeting in Centralia.

I had gone to only a couple of meetings since my school year ended.
I keep saying I'm too busy to go, but Mr. B called me on that bullshit
yesterday.

"You know why you're really staying away from meetings," he said.

"Yeah, because I'm busy."

"Then go with me to the Mayfield meeting tonight."

"I have plans. Rich and I are treating Jeffrey and Sammy to an end of
the school year movie tonight."

He grunted. His grunt was his way of saying I was avoiding doing the
things I needed to do for my sobriety.

"I might be wrong," he said, "but I think you're avoiding meetings to
keep from bumping into your father."

"No way. I can deal with being in the same room as the bastard. I'll
just sit away from him and not talk to him."

"Which is my cue for me to tell you how I think you should live your
life, which I'm not going to do. I am going to remind you of this and
you can take it for what it's worth: Resentments are the number one
cause of relapse."

I could have decided to go to an Olympia meeting this afternoon, but I
decided to go to Centralia just to prove Sparky wrong. Besides, my
asshole father would be at work, so there was close to no chance I'd
bump into him. Am I clever or what? My plan was to meet Rich at the
batting cages after the meeting. Instead, I received a reminder that
man plans and God laughs.

When I arrived at the noon meeting I was met by a couple of old-
timers whom I hadn't seen in awhile. They greeted me like a long lost
friend and hit me up with a ton of questions about college and about
WSU Cougar baseball. The two of them had known me since my first
meeting at that hall as a thirteen year old.

About five minutes before the start of the meeting, I took a seat. As I
peered around the meeting hall searching for and finding other
familiar faces, a familiar face walked through the door. It was my
asshole sperm donor. I quickly turned and faced the front, hoping he
would sit behind me and not recognize me. I was wearing a Cougar
baseball hat, which I figured would disguise the back of my head.

I was furious with him for showing up at the meeting. Why wasn't the
bastard at work? I was furious with myself for coming to this meeting.
I should have been working on my hitting with my teammates, not
sitting here in a chair in a dank hall, getting pissed off at the world.

I sulked through the familiar opening stuff and received the final blow
when the meeting topic was announced—resentments. Of course, I
heard all of the things I didn't want to hear but was supposed to hear.
Nothing was said that was new to me, but the context made it all
sound different. With my father sitting behind me, I decided not to
share. I don't know if he knew I was sitting a couple of rows ahead of
him, but he didn't share either.

When the meeting ended, I had no choice but to reveal myself. I
couldn't very well remain seated while twenty other people made a
circle for the closing prayer. I did make sure I was in a position away
from him so I wouldn't have to hold his hand in the circle, and I was
very careful not to make eye contact. Now all I had to do was hold
back until he left the meeting hall. That plan didn't work either as my
old man sauntered over to where I was standing. I obviously was not
doing a good job of looking invisible.

"Hello, son," he said. I answered him by saying nothing. He was not
worthy of my time. "Do you have the time to have a cup of coffee with
me?"

I couldn't stand there forever like a dummy saying nothing, so I told
him I was heading up to Olympia to meet Rich and some of my
teammates. I then told him I had a game in the evening.

"Your game isn't until five-thirty," my father told me.

"How did you know that?"

"Maybe I can tell you over a cup of coffee," was all he said. As usual,
he was starting to push my buttons. I took the bait, however, and told
him I'd give him twenty minutes.

I waited for him to object, but he surprised me by agreeing.

We were stopped by Grant F. as we left the meeting hall. Grant was
one of those old-timers who had been around forever. He was thirty-
five years sober.

"Going out to coffee with your dad?" he asked me, as if he already
knew the answer.

"Yeah, a quick cup," I said.

"Well, it's about time." That was another button pushed, since what
was going on between my father and I was none of his business.

We went to a café a block away from the meeting hall that I knew was
an after meeting hangout. I'd been in there a few times with Sparky. I
remember going in with him as a fourteen year old after meetings and
feeling very grownup sitting with a group of adults.

The café was half-full and we had no problem finding a booth. An
ancient waitress brought us menus and started filling our coffee cups.
My father opened his menu and started perusing it.

"Want some lunch?" he asked.

"No."

"My treat. It'll add fifteen minutes is all."

I felt like yelling that I didn't want to spend an extra fifteen minutes
with him, but I'd had a light breakfast and was very hungry. "Okay,
but don't expect me to pay you back."

"I wasn't asking you to."

When the waitress returned, I ordered a mushroom burger and fries,
while dad ordered a French dip sandwich.

"So, what is it you wanted to say?" I asked impatiently, although I had
known the answer to that question from the moment he asked me out
for coffee.

"I watched you play a couple of times this spring," he said, evading
my question. Damn, he pissed me off. "You are a damn fine ball
player."

"I'm glad you finally figured that out," I said, my resentments sitting
right at the surface. "I know you saw me play in Seattle."

"I went to Pullman a couple of times, too."

"Why didn't you say anything when you were there?"

"I think you know the answer to that."

I knew the answer all right. The answer was I would have treated him
like shit even after he drove almost all of the way across the state to
watch me play. It was slowly occurring to me that I was being as big
an asshole as he was—that I was becoming the same nasty,
resentful son-of-a-bitch as my old man. I didn't say anything, but I
nodded that I did indeed know that answer.

"But this isn't about you," he said. That figures, it never is about me
as far as that bastard is concerned, I thought. "It's about me making
some amends, and you are at the top of that list." I was right; that was
exactly what I thought the purpose of this meeting was.

"I don't need to tell you I was a shitty father. I think nobody
understands that better than I do. I was mean, abusive, and full of
resentment. I resented that you weren't the son I wanted you to be."

"Just what did you want me to be?"

"You said it once when you got pissed at me. I wanted you to be like
John. I wanted you to be my drinking buddy. I wanted you to be a
jock and a fighter. I wanted you to fish and hunt with me and drink
booze with me when we were done. I wanted you to fix cars and build
shit." He stopped for a moment, as if he was trying to catch his
breath. "I certainly didn't want you to be no faggot with a boyfriend..."

I was about to interrupt him, but he held up his hand. For once, I kept
my mouth shut and obeyed him instead of coming up with some
smartass remark.

"Let me finish, son. I apologize for using that word, but it's how I was
thinking then. I sure as hell didn't want you being some alcoholic
loser like I was, but there you were, thirteen years old and a hopeless
drunk like your old man. I apologize for all of that. I know I can't
change the past, as much as I would fucking like to. All I can do is live
a life that starts to make up for what I was."

"Does it bug you that I'm gay?"

"Maybe a little, not that it makes a difference in how I feel about you.
Your brother has been educating me about what being gay is about.
He might be straight as an arrow (that goes to show what HE knows),
but he understands you. George, your sponsor...oh hell, I might as
well admit it...your dad, set me straight on some things, too. Your
boyfriend is a good guy, and I'd like to get to know him better. I
apologize for rubbing your nose in your shit when you came out to
me. I doubt I'll ever be able to make up the hurt I caused by kicking
you out of your own home. That ain't what any father should do—at
least not one who is a man." That was an interesting choice of words
for somebody who kept accusing me, his son, of not being a man. His
hinting about his lack of manhood told me a lot about his sincerity.

The bastard was seven months sober and seemed to have things
figured out better than I did at five-and-a-half years. "It's funny. I know
that right now you have a shitload of resentments against
me...blaming me for making you a drunk. Well, I resented you, too.
You see, the way I saw it, you were always pissing me off to the point
where I had to get drunk. I got to where I never saw anything good in
you."

We were interrupted by the arrival of our lunch. As I bit into a
delicious, juicy burger, my father went on. "I did not want to do this,
you know. I knew I'd have to face your resentments and hatred. But
my sponsor told me that if I didn't make these amends, I could never
let you know how much I love you. He said for my sobriety I had to do
this or I'd be a victim of my own resentments."

"My sponsor told me the same thing. I told him I would never be able
to love you. You'd hurt me too much for me to ever love you. He told
me that it was much easier to love than to be loved."

"Our sponsors sound a lot alike. I made amends to your sponsor
already. I hate to think what would have happened to you without him
in your life. But back then I called him a kidnapper, a child molester,
and told him he was poisoning you against me. Hell, nobody was
poisoning you but me."

Sparky and The Schnoz both told me that having a resentment was
like taking a slow poison and then expecting the other guy to die. It
was becoming clear to me how my own resentments were holding me
back.

"I said a while ago that you were a damn fine ballplayer. You're more
than that, son. You're turned into a hell of a young man. Your Mr. B
had a lot do with that, but you did, too. All-State baseball player, All-
League in football, honor grad from high school, full-ride baseball
scholarship to a Division I school, Dean's List your first two
semesters...don't think I don't know. I've been following you with
pride. Best thing that ever happened to me was getting that fucking
DUI. I sure as hell didn't want to sober up. Now there ain't no way I
want to go back."

I wasn't sure what to say, so I asked him who his sponsor was. "Old
Grant F, who you talked to on the way out. Good man, tough
sponsor."

"How did you happen to have the day off?"

"Oh, that. Funny how good things start to happen when you do those
fucking steps. Been moved up to a supervisory spot on the crew, but
it means working four ten hour days. I got Fridays off. It was your old
coach who promoted me. Try to figure that shit out." Coach Miller was
the boss of the road crews.

I worked on my hamburger and fries, thinking about all that my father
had been telling me, along with what Sparky had been telling me. I
thought about how my own resentments had been standing in my
way for so long. It was time to say what I needed to say.

"I gotta make a second set of amends to you. Tenth step shit, I
guess. `...and when we were wrong we promptly admitted it.' I knew
you were sober, and I knew that some day you'd be wanting to make
amends. There was no way I was going to hear you out, including
today. I was wrong. I took all the stuff I'd been learning since I was in
eighth grade and decided it had nothing to do with me and you. I
apologize for being a prick where that is concerned." What I had just
done was apologize for being the same kind of person he had been—
the person I resented and hated.

I could feel tears dripping down my cheeks, and I saw them forming
in my father's eyes as well.  He looked at me and said, "I took all that
money you paid me back—the money you stole and put it in a
drawer. Then I made sure I spent it only on booze, just to show you
what I thought of you and your amends. How's that for sick alcoholic
thinking? I guess it's one more thing to make an amend for."

All I could think was how typical that was of my father. Take the
amend I made to him and fuck it all up. I wanted badly to leave. From
my perspective this wasn't working very well.

"I love you, son." We stood up. I was afraid he might want to do
something stupid like hug me. Much to my relief, he held back. I could
not return his words. There was no way I could tell that man that I
loved him.

I did learn some things that afternoon, however. Without knowing it,
the overwhelming hatred for my father had somehow left me. I still
resented him, but I no longer hated him. Maybe some of the things I
was being told were starting to sink in.

I never did make it to the batting cages. I did hit a home run in our 7-5
win that evening. Strangely, the trot around the bases seemed a bit
more special knowing that my father was sitting in the stands
watching me.

<June 17-July 7, Mayfield>

The founders of the Go to State Team were now high school
graduates. They had all but moved into the realm of adulthood. What
they had planned for their immediate futures said a lot about the
group of boys. In a school where less than half the graduates would
be attending college, all of the Go to State graduates had college in
their plans. The great news for the gay couples is that each couple
would be attending the same college.

Danny and Carl would be going their separate ways. On the other
hand, they weren't a gay couple. They were simply very close friends.
Danny would be attending Centralia Community College. Carl was
going away to a small private college on a partial football scholarship.

Scott would be joining Danny at the Community College. The college
did not have a football program, but both boys planned to play
baseball in the spring.

Noah and Eric were heading for Stanford on scholarships. They
would be the first Mayfield grads to attend the prestigious university.
Eric was seriously thinking of being a walk-on for baseball, while
Noah was thinking the same for soccer. They both had contacted the
respective head coaches at the university and received enthusiastic
replies. Eric had received baseball scholarship offers from a couple of
Northwest Division II schools. For Eric, being with Noah was more
important than playing college baseball and he turned them down.
Besides, he felt he had the ability to be a bench player for the
Division I Cardinal.

Lars, Hunter, and the twins, would all be attending Central
Washington University. Kevin had received a partial baseball
scholarship while Lars had an academic scholarship. Hunter received
a football scholarship. Lars planned on turning out for baseball as a
walk-on.

Lars had some issues with his father when it came to picking a
college. But then, issues with his father were not unusual. However,
their disagreements no longer carried the vitriol of the falling out that
occurred after Lars was caught by his father having oral sex with
Kevin.

His father wanted Lars to go to Centralia CC for two years. Lars
would get free tuition because his father was on the faculty of the
college. Lars didn't want to be separated from Kevin. He thought his
father's real motive was to keep the two of them apart. While Lars
had reasons for being a bit paranoid, in this case he was wrong. His
father kept reminding Lars the separation was only for two years, but
Lars wasn't biting.

Lars gained some ground, however, when he was awarded a two
year academic scholarship at Central. He was an excellent student,
sporting a 3.75 GPA. His scholarship was for tuition and books, and
was renewable after two years if he maintained a certain grade point
average. Earning the scholarship was reason enough for his father to
give in to Lars, providing Lars worked to pay for his room and board.
By the time Lars graduated, everything had been decided.

Kevin had to deal with an adult as well, but not his father. Kevin knew
it was time to bring his long time relationship with Sherman to an end,
at least as far as sex went. He still wanted to maintain their
friendship; Sherm had been a good mentor and gay role model for
Kevin, and he didn't want to lose that relationship.

[KEVIN, June 18]

Today was a rare day when I didn't have a baseball game or a
practice. Kraig and I split a summer job with the city recreation
department, and today was his day to work. Everything worked out
for me to have a talk with Sherman about our relationship. We
decided to meet for dinner at the Roadside Inn.

"You grew up into a man so quickly, I think I missed most of it,"
Sherman said.

"You were a big help to me. I learned a lot from you." I flexed my
bicep. "I even owe my muscles to you, thanks to your weight room."

"All I provided was some time in the weight room. You could have
done the same at your school's weight room. Hell, you were using
your coach's program, anyway."

"I hope I see more of you when I visit home. I want our friendship to
continue."

"That is up to you, but it would suit me."

"I do need to talk to you about one thing, though," I said.

"Go for it."

"Lars and I decided that with us growing up and going off to college
and all that we want to be...um...monomangus."

"The word is monogamous. I applaud your decision; it is a very
mature and grown up one."

I felt good at his reaction. It was the one I expected from him; Sherm
was a good man.

"We did make a couple of exceptions," I said. I went on before he
could react. "One of those exceptions is our brothers." Sherm knew
about what we did sexually with our brothers.

"And what would the other one be, if I may ask?"

"That would be whatever you and me decide to do tonight. I am
spending it with you, in case you didn't know."

Sherman grinned. "I might be looking forward to that more than the
dinners the waitress is bringing to our table."

It was the best sex me and Sherm ever had. I knew I had it in me to
go three rounds, and the old dude surprised me by keeping up with
me. Took him awhile on round three, but he says it was more than
worth it for him to keep his cock in my mouth that long.

<Wednesday, June 19>

[MARTY]

A couple of things happened because I was a sober alcoholic. One of
those was a talk with Rich's dad. Rich and I had talked about the
upcoming conversation. We knew it was going to happen, we just
didn't know when. What Mikey did last night and this morning said we
needed to talk now.

 Mikey's been in the party crowd since the summer before eighth
grade, ready from the start to out drink his peers and get drunk on his
ass. His dad has tried to keep him away from those parties, but Mikey
would sneak out  to one and then take his punishment. Rich and I
have talked to him without much success. Rich thought we should cut
him off from sex with us, but I didn't want Rich to lose that connection
with his brother. Who knows when it might come in handy?

After earning a ton of restrictions, Mikey eased off on the partying by
his sophomore year. Instead he started bringing alcohol and weed
into the house and sneaking his drinks and tokes. The night before he
and his friend Colin got drunk in Mikey's room. I don't know much
about Colin, except that he's one of the big time party boys, he
doesn't play sports, and he's not much of a student.

The next morning, while Rich and I were cooking up breakfast, Mikey
and Colin came downstairs smelling of marijuana, drinking out of a
bottle of Jack Daniels, and wearing nothing but boxers. They both
looked like hell.  I knew that look all too well. Rich and Mikey's
parents were gone to work. The whiskey ended up being the
breakfast for Colin and Mikey, and by early afternoon they were
passed out drunk on the living room floor. Rich and I eventually got
them up to Mikey's bedroom before his parents got home.

That night Rich and I talked to his dad. We told him that Mikey had a
bigger problem than he thought. I reminded him about my problems
with alcohol. I told him again about my going to alcohol and drug
rehab and about how I'd done since. He'd heard the stories before,
but after over two years of problems, he realized I was talking about
his son Mikey. By the time we'd finished, he said it was time for him
to get his head out of his ass and get Mikey into a rehab center,
preferably the one I went to.

"He'll miss the rest of his baseball season," Rich said.

"I don't think baseball is a priority right now," his dad said. "Even with
warnings from you two, we had our heads buried in the sand. With
Rich being a non-drinker, we looked at what Mikey was doing as a
phase."

Rich's mother came to the room. We filled her in on what we'd been
talking about. "There's a history of alcoholism in my family," she said.
"It's time for us to take care of Mikey."

They both thanked us for getting involved and thanked Rich for never
being tempted by alcohol. What they didn't know, is that Rich and I
met at a party in seventh grade where he got drunk for the first and
last time. He ended up spending the night at my house so he wouldn't
have to face his parents with a hangover. We'll tell them the truth
some time, but this wasn't the time to do it.

My other meeting was with Dallas. I'd only talked to him a couple of
times since I came home from school. He came over to my apartment
to chat and update me on what was going on with him.

"Milton got really pissed at me a few days ago," Dallas said. Milton,
also known as The Schnoz, has been Dallas's guardian for a couple
of years. Dallas lives with him. Dallas is going to be a senior this
coming school year.

"What did you do this time?" I asked.

"I went to a kegger." He saw the shocked look on my face and said,
"Shit, Marty, don't look at me like that. I didn't fucking drink, I just
went to hang out with my homies."

"You know it can be dangerous. You've had your problems in slippery
places like that. If you don't have a legitimate reason to be around
alcohol, don't temp fate." In fact, Dallas had his first relapse when he
went to a kegger, swearing he had no intention of getting drunk.

"I know, and Milton made sure I knew all of that, and then he kicked
me out."

"He kicked you out of the house?"

"No, dumb shit, he kicked me out of his fucking bed."

"You and The Schnoz have been sleeping together?"

"Hell ya. He might not be the prettiest dude on the planet, but the
fucker is good in bed. He let me back in again, though. We got it all
talked out and I'm keeping my ass away from keggers, even if I don't
drink."

"I thought you weren't going to sleep with older guys any more."

"I said I wasn't gonna be no god damn whore, not that I wouldn't
sleep with some dude. I ain't Milton's whore, I'm his lover and he's
mine, so bite that off and chew on it."

I have to say, that life with the boys of Mayfield is never dull. We
talked some more. In the end I could tell that Dallas loved The
Schnoz, and that he was also very proud of his sobriety.

Before Dallas left, he told me two things. "I saw your boyfriend's
brother at the kegger. Damn, that boy can put it away. He was so
drunk he couldn't walk or talk. It was puke city at the end."

"That's being taken care of, but thanks for telling me."

"Milton doesn't know this, but two guys at the middle school are
planning on getting him in his little cubby hole and sucking his dick. I
can't tell you who, but I heard they're working out a plan."

"Oh, I have a pretty good idea of who they are, and I doubt they will
go beyond talk." I figured only Jeffrey and Nicky would be that bold,
but I also knew it was something they would never follow through on.
"I don't think Milton would take that risk anyway. I'm surprised he lets
you sleep with him."

"That's what happens when you become lovers. Nobody but you will
ever know."

"He could lose his job."

"I got a reason for living there and everybody knows it. I got a kick
ass bedroom and I sleep in it most of the time. What happens in
Milton's bedroom stays in his bedroom, except I told you because I
trust you totally."

"I ain't saying anything."

Dallas gave me a hug. "I love ya, bro. You mean the world to me."

"I love you, too, Dallas, and I'm proud of you hanging in and staying
sober."

After Dallas left, I sat on the couch and did a lot of thinking. It's been
a hectic time since I got home. The amends with my dad, the talk with
Mikey's dad, the visit with Dallas, and my speech coming up, all had
me busy and thinking of sobriety. All this working with others to stay
sober can keep a guy so busy he never thinks about drinking, but I
guess that's the idea.

I was about to go to bed when a Hurricane came blowing in. "Is your
friend gone?" he asked.

"Do you see him?"

"I'm the one who is supposed to ask the stupid questions. Isn't he the
guy who lives with The Schnoz?"

"Yep."

"Thought so." He was quiet for a few moments, like he was thinking
some deep and serious thoughts. Then, in typical Hurricane Jeffrey
fashion, he changed the subject. "I want your jism all over me
tonight."

"I think that can be arranged."

I eventually shot my wad over his torso, and he spread it and his own
light jism over his face, chest, belly, and his junk. We finally turned off
the lights. I rubbed his smooth, but sticky thirteen year old body, and
took in the overwhelming smell of sex.  I thought Jeffrey was sexy
with cum rubbed over his face and torso—at least in a sick kind of
way. I wrapped myself around his slender body, which was sexy any
way I looked at it.

<Friday, June 21>

[KRAIG]

It was great to have no game on Friday since Hunter was back from a
week at football camp. It was a camp for incoming freshmen held at
Central, where we would be attending college along with Kevin and
Lars. It was mostly about conditioning and learning plays, since
actual football practice was against the rules.

As soon as Hunter got home he called me. I think I was at his house
before he hung up the phone. We met Lars and Kevin at the Bear for
pizza. After we all finished eating and talking, Hunter and I went back
at his house, got naked, and were all over each other in bed. Hunter
was 6'2, 200 pounds. He was solidly built. Both of us had light chest
hairs growing, and a dark treasure trail from our belly buttons to our
pubic area. He had thick, dark leg hair, while mine was lighter and
more scattered. We both grew enough whiskers to shave every day.

No matter, even after a week apart, we knew what our boyfriend
looked like. We weren't on the bed to admire each other, we were
there to have wild and crazy sex. His parents were away at a dinner
party, so the house was ours. We didn't have to worry about keeping
our noise down, waiting for Hunter's dad to knock, or any other kind
of interruption. We could go at each other with abandon, which is
what we did.

Our first orgasm came after hugging, kissing, rubbing, licking, biting,
and wrestling each other as we humped our turgid teen cocks
together.  We came with loud growls, like the wild animals we were.
When we finished we were covered in a mixture of our cum and our
sweat.

We didn't bother to clean up as we lay on the sheets kissing, first
gently, then hard and deep. Our hands rubbed over our partner's
cock and balls until we were ready for round two.

Round two was Hunter fucking me on the floor. We knew better than
to fuck on his bed. We'd fallen off the bed and crashed to the floor all
too often. One or both of us was going to have a hickey and we both
had scratches on our ribs, not to mention some potential bruises.
Hunter filled my insides with his cum as I shot mine over our bellies,
mixing it with the mess left over from our first orgasms.

When we recovered we showered together, always touching
somehow, as we cleaned the sweat and semen off of ourselves.

"You're not going to pee on me?" Hunter asked.

"I've outgrown that."

"Your brothers haven't."

"Why, do you want to get peed on?"

"Not tonight, but I was kind of wondering since you haven't been in
that kind of mood for awhile."

"You never know when the mood might return," I said with what I
hoped was a wicked grin. We changed the sheets on Hunter's bed
and cuddled up, smelling fresh and soapy, yet still with that masculine
teen musk about us that turned me on so. I don't know when Alan
Hawkins and Hunter's mother arrived home, since they never woke
us up.

The next day we went by my house so I could get ready for my
afternoon baseball game. We drove out to Kentburg where we played
the team from Tacoma that Eric's friends Shelby, Andy, Chase, and
Liam played for. Hunter was sitting in the bleachers watching me
play. We split our double header. Eric was the starting pitcher in the
first game, which we won 6-3. Scott pitched the second game, which
we lost 5-4. They were both pretty good games.

Some of us ended up at the Bear's for pizza after the games were
over. Eric was happy to be with his old friends. We all had fun talking
baseball, boys, and about going to college. Of course we talked about
boys, since all of us there, except Scott and Chase, were gay. They
laughed at us and talked about girls.

That night Hunter's dad gave Hunter and me massages in the living
room. We were both stripped to just our underpants. Once Hunter's
mom went to bed she never left the bedroom, so we weren't worried
about being caught half-naked. Hunter brought a wooden chair from
the dining room and sat backwards in it, his face resting on the chair
back.

Our massages were usually really erotic. Even though he's still
married to Hunter's mom, Alan is gay. Hunter and me both turned him
on, and he found ways to turn us on. If Hunter wasn't my boyfriend,
I'm sure I would have had sex with Alan. He knows I want to do it and
we came really close a couple of times. Hunter has always said he
would be okay if I had sex with his dad, but he didn't want to be a part
of it. I didn't blame him for that.

We both had tents in our underpants while we got our massages.
There was no doubt that Alan boned up, too. It was like a tradition
with us. Hunter and me even creamed our undies a couple of times
during our massages. I wasn't going to cream mine that night,
because somehow my purple bikini briefs ended up on the floor.

What we did was almost like sex without being sex. When Hunter
was with me it had never become sex for the reason Hunter told me
that night. "If he was just some forty-year old dude in good shape and
is giving us those massages, I'd jump in bed with him—hell, I'd do a
three-way with you and him. But, he's my dad, and, it just doesn't
seem right."

Hunter saw me pull off my briefs while his dad massaged him. I knew
he could see my boner and I'm sure it told him I was anxiously
awaiting his massage.

"Okay, dad, I'm good. Thanks, I needed that. Looks like Kraig is
ready. At least one part of him is."

Alan looked at me and I put my hand around my hard cock, stroking it
a couple of times, knowing I was frustrating him because he could do
nothing about it.

When Alan started massaging my shoulders, Hunter got out of his
chair, his boner, leaking precum, sticking out of the opening in his
boxers, which he made no attempt to hide.

"Be right back," he said, "I gotta use the can." I knew that was a lie.
No way he had to use the can. He left the room, his big boner sticking
out. It was like he wanted his dad to know his son had become a man

"I want to suck your dick," I told Alan as soon as Hunter left.

"Won't happen. Hunter will be right back."

"No h	e won't. He left so I could give you a blow job."

"Maybe on another day, when you're visiting home from school."

"We might not have a chance then. We have a chance now. You
could massage my cock at least," I said.

"You are one horny boy."

"I always have been. You know that."

When Hunter returned his father was massaging my neck. I know he
could see the cum I had intentionally left on my belly and in my
pubes. Hunter could have no doubt what had caused my orgasm.

Later, when Hunter and I were in bed together, I told him his dad had
sucked me some and then had jerked me off. He was afraid of Hunter
catching him with my dick in his mouth, but apparently didn't care
about being caught with his dick in my mouth. I thanked him for giving
Alan and me a few minutes alone.

"How did his jism taste?"

"Strong, but I liked it fine. Are you okay with me doing it?"

"I'm cool with it. But it's nothing I'd ever do with dad. It would just
freak me out too much."

"Even though you let him look at your boner sticking out of your
boxers?"

"Yeah. I kept telling myself I had it out for you to see, not for him to
see. It all gets pretty confusing. But, I just could never go farther than
that."

That's not the first time he's said that. I've always gotten him to
change his mind on sex things since we were little kids, but he's
really stubborn when it comes to sexing with his dad. I understand,
because the thought of sex with my dad freaks me out, too. But then,
my dad isn't exactly the studly ex-athlete that Hunter's dad is; he's
picked up a bit of a paunch the last few years. Besides, he's my dad,
which is exactly what Hunter was thinking.

No matter, after our massages, Hunter and I go bat-shit crazy in bed,
even when I've had an orgasm with Alan. I bet a couple of rooms
over, Alan is hoping to hear our moans and groans while he jerks
himself off wishing he was in bed with us.

<Monday, June 24>

[JEFFREY]

Last night I finally got Sammy in bed with me and Marty. It was time
for our cum exchange. Dad knew Sammy was gonna sleep with us,
but he didn't say anything. As long as we didn't make Sammy do
anything, he was happy.

We had a good time. Marty blew his wad first, because Sammy
sucked him. Marty said no sucking until Sammy was eleven, but I
knew he'd let Sammy do it. I mean Sammy is ten, and I was sucking
Marty when I was ten, so it's no big fucking deal, right?

Besides, Marty wasn't gonna cum in his mouth. The idea was to get
the cum over us so we could be cum brothers, which is better than
being blood brothers. You don't have to cut yourself to cum. Plus, it
feels way better than making yourself bleed.

I was beating my meat while my brother sucked on Marty. He could
hardly fit Marty's big wiener in his mouth, but he did the best he
could. When Marty said he was getting close, Sammy went to jerking
him off until Marty was ready to cum. Marty finished himself off so he
could shoot his wad on both of us. We were laying on our backs on
the bed and both got jism on us. We made sure he got some of it on
him, too.

Then Sammy sucked me. I fit in his mouth a lot easier. He didn't have
to suck long, since I was close already. I shot my spooge on Marty
and got some on Sammy. We mixed my cum together with Marty's
and made sure it was on all three of us. We were now official
brothers, all three of us. We had a nice night sleeping together in
Marty's bed. It was the only time we did that. Sammy said it was
worth it. He was proud of our brotherhood. Sometimes I think we
should have waited until Sammy could shoot.

Mortimer and Teddy watched everything, just like they always did.
They were our witnesses. Having the two bear boyfriends around
made everything even more special.

"Are you a cock hound now?" Marty asked  Sammy when we woke
up in the morning. All three of us had dried cum on us. Somehow all
that cum seemed really sexy on Sammy, even if he wouldn't let us
rub any on his face. But then Marty didn't either. I was the only one
with a flaky face.

"You know what I am?" my little ten year old brother said.

"A pussy hound," Marty said, laughing.

"A bunch of girls in my class and Nicky's sister." I was not surprised
that Lisa found a way to get naked with Sammy. He was a boy, and
that was all she needed to know. Lisa and Shane were both home
from college.

"So, you've been naked with Lisa?" Marty asked.

"Yeah, along with Nicky. He likes to suck her titties, and she lets me
do it, too. But, she won't let me fuck her."

I don't know why, but hearing the normally quiet Sammy say the word
fuck got me to laughing. All of this sex talk was getting me hard.

"You want to fuck her, don't you?" I asked.

"I'll fuck any girl if they'll let me. But the little girls in my class won't.
Lisa says I'm too young, so she won't either. I'm ten and still a virgin."

"Oh, you poor thing" Marty said.

"Lisa says Nicky could fuck her and Sammy could watch, but Nicky
won't do it," I said. "Girls are so weird. She'll let Nicky, her brother,
fuck her, and he's only eleven. But, Nicky doesn't want to. She won't
let Sammy fuck her, because he's only ten, but he wants to fuck her."

We knew we had to shower and go over to the main house for
breakfast. We all showered together. Me and Sammy boned up, but
nobody had sex. I think we were all too hungry for breakfast.

"It was a great night, huh, Marty?" I said when we walked across the
patio.

"The best. Do you agree, Sammy?"

"Yep, it was the best. I love my big brothers."

<Thursday, July 4>

Once again, the State Championship baseball team was honored in
the town's Independence Day parade. Coach Sanders was the Grand
Marshall, and Eric was specially honored for his perfect game.

Eric didn't want to be singled out from the team. But when every one
of his teammates came up to him and told him to get over himself and
accept what he had coming to him, he reluctantly gave in. This year
the players received their individual trophies during the ceremony at
the city park,

After the ceremony and town barbeque were over, the Go to State
boys helped with the cleanup. Not only did the undergraduates help,
but the ten newly graduated seniors did as well, along with Marty,
Rich, Connor, Rodney, Vince, and Jerome.

That night, after the fireworks in Centralia, Eric complained to Noah
about his being singled out.

"You're speaking to deaf ears," Noah said.

"Look, I don't mind them mentioning the perfect game. I mean, I did
pitch it after all. But did the mayor have to get is two bits in, too?

"Like everybody on the team said, get over yourself."

<Sunday, July 7>

While the recent graduates of Mayfield High School may still think of
themselves as the Boys of Mayfield, they were really the young adults
of Mayfield. The graduated seniors would be taking their two State
Championship trophies and leaving the small town for the world of
college. There was no question they had left their mark in many
different ways.

For a seven of ten graduating seniors on one team to leave for a four-
year college was something highly unusual. The three remaining
boys were all enrolled in the two-year Centralia Community College.

Six of the ten graduates were openly gay with all six being in a
relationship. While the Dawg and Donkey, as well as Marty and Rich,
had opened the door, it was those six who made being gay
respectable. Younger couples like Justin and Toby, Chandler and
Korey, Jeffrey and Nicky, as well as Alex and Tanner, were able to
feel comfortable with themselves from the start. That confidence was
the result of the work of the older boys who went through school
ahead of them.

The legacy of the older boys also included the Go to State Team and
the Mayfield Falcons. The ten graduates had been with the Falcons
from the end of seventh grade to the summer before their senior year.
The boys behind them played for other teams until they entered high
school. The Falcons now consisted of high school players. The team
was not going to start over with another group of middle school kids.

But the interested adults of Mayfield, seeing what had been
accomplished with the Falcons, created their own organization,
forming two feeder teams consisting of younger players. Those
younger players were invited to join the Go to State Team meetings,
even though their own teams were not part of the organization. The
current leaders like Justin, Blaine, Toby, Chandler, and Korey,
understood that operating multiple teams was more than they could
handle. However, they did want the younger players to know they
were important to the future and they wanted those players to feel a
part of Falcon baseball. That way they would know what it was all
about when they were old enough to play for the Falcons.

Coach Miller, Coach Sanders, Seth McCall, and George Bednarzyck
were all instrumental in getting younger teams formed. Seth and
George were particularly interested since their younger sons were not
yet ready for Falcon baseball.

Thanks to the Boys from Mayfield and the Go to State Team, youth
baseball in Mayfield was in better shape than at any time in its
already successful heritage. With their organization, their courage to
stand up for who they were, their scholarship and integrity, and their
two straight State Championships, the Boys from Mayfield had left a
legacy that would be a challenge to live up to. The graduates would
all leave for college proud of what they had accomplished.

Next: The Perfect Game