Date: Thu, 5 Aug 2004 22:07:14 EDT
From: Getrealguy@aol.com
Subject: The Power - Part 21  (gay/incest, gay/sf-fantasy)

                        The Power - Part 21
                       by GetRealGuy@aol.com

"Is everybody ready for Friday night?" Mom asked, as she dumped a heaping
spoonful of sliced carrots on my plate.

"Ready as we will ever be!" Bob answered spontaneously, before I could
open my mouth. I had my mouth clamped shut in protest while motioning to
Mom that I didn't want any more of those damn carrots. She knew I hated
them but she was getting ready to give me another scoop.

"I attended the rehearsals at the theater," Bob continued, "and learned
all my cues, what more? It was a snap for me at the dress rehearsal," he
bragged. "It's Bill, here, that worked his buns off. But his job is done,
done... you should see it -- the scenery, awesome!"

Dad followed Bob's eyes and suddenly it struck me that everyone was
looking at me, including Mom. They were waiting for me to say something
but Mom spoke up when she saw that I was stuffing my face -- my cheeks
must have looked like a chipmunk's at nut gathering time.

"We saw the drawings," Mom remarked, "very impressive."

She looked across the table at Dad, trying to get him to join the
conversation. That usually took a little urging. At breakfast, he always
had the newspaper in one hand and his fork or a coffee cup in the other.
He was at work at lunch, and at dinner, he was usually to busy
chowing-down to make with the conversation. The exception was when we
fucked up and hid from him, putting off having to face the music till
dinner. To say the least, his sudden interest was a bit unusual.

"Yeah, I was impressed with the drawings too." Continuing to speak, he
lifted his fork, for the second time and looked down at the food in his
plate, "I'm anxious to see how big the drawing of the sky and ocean
turned out to be when you finished painting it?"

"Oh, you mean Peg's drawing of the backdrop -- at least twelve times what
you saw on those big drawings."

"Goodness!" Mom gasped.

"Yeah Mom," I said turning to her. "It's gigantic, but there's a
technique." I had to swallow to keep on talking. When I did, I discovered
that I had a mouthful of carrot -- but something was different. Orange!
That was it. I vaguely remember her mentioning that she was going to try
a new recipe, a small can of concentrated orange juice added to the
carrots, full strength -- not bad!" I smiled and nodded to convey my
approval as I started my explanation. "We drew a grid, two inches per
square, on Peg's drawing. Each of those squares represents a two foot
square on the scenery when I paint it. It's kind of like painting a bunch
of individual pictures that fit together to make one big one -- like a
jigsaw puzzle, but with squares."

"Do you actually draw the squares on the scenery and then paint over
them?" Dad asked.

"Could, but that would have been too much work. The backdrop was easy to
do, freehand, but some of the other scenery had to be more precise, like
Peg's drawings. I drew the grid to paint over when I needed it."

"I would have liked to have seen you at work, you sound professional,"
Mom said, attempting to boost my ego.

"Far from that. Like most that paint, I don't like to have anyone looking
over my shoulder before it's finished. That's only because as big as it
is, it looks a mess from up close. I hope it will look great from down in
the audience."

"It will," Bob announced, to assure me. "I've seen it up close and it's a
masterpiece." He turned to Mom, and then quickly to Dad as he went on,
"wait till you see all of the scenery he painted, a humongous job! We
started moving it from the school warehouse to the theater already."

"Yeah," I added, taking over where Bob left off, "credit to Peg too,
she's a genius, and Mr. Gustin, our shop teacher. Using some of his
suggestions, scenery will actually be changing before your eyes, without
closing the curtains. We'll have guys hidden behind some of the spin
sets, out of sight. They'll spin it around, not to mention the stuff that
will be whisked on and off stage by rope... presto, new set."

"Interesting," Dad said. Intending to put and end to the conversation and
start eating, he bowed down his head and picked up his knife and fork.
Mom took advantage of the lag in the conversation.

"Last year we went Saturday night. This year let's attend the opening on
Friday night instead." She was addressing Dad directly. Undoubtedly, she
had made up her mind for both of them and was simply letting him in on
it.

"Yeah, in our new car," Dad slyly announced, and added, "Hugh Spenser
will be there on the opening because of his daughter, I want to see the
envy on his face." He looked into his plate to hide a devilish smile.

"I would love to meet Peg," Mom said, changing the subject. Forgetting
she was holding her fork, she pointed it dangerously close to my face.
She wasn't really threatening me, merely demanding my attention. "As yet,
you haven't brought her around and you know how I like to meet your
friends." She paused to put her fork down and get her thoughts together.
"I'll tell you what... I have an idea.... Invite Peg for a later than
usual dinner, here. After, we can all go to the show together." She kept
her eyes on me waiting for an answer.

"But Mom, Peg has her own family... "I stopped.

That wasn't entirely true. Yesterday was Senior Skip. Peg, being a
senior, should have skipped along with the rest of them but instead she
was waiting for me at a lunch table in the patio. While Bob was in the
parking lot, showing off "Billy Junior" to the car enthusiasts, she
unloaded a bunch of her personal shit on me. Like, in a few days after
grad, she would be joining her family. I knew she had been living with
her aunt but what I didn't realize was that it was only until she
graduated. When she started her senior year, her family moved to
Westfield. The decision was made not to change schools and leave her here
with her aunt to finish out her senior year.

It might seem strange, being such good buds, but most of what Peg
disclosed about herself was news to me. When we were together, we never
talked about such things. I didn't probe into her personal life because I
figured that if she wanted to tell me all that stuff, she would have. She
finally did. I already knew that her love affair with the lesbian gym
teacher was trashed after a few fast, "lickie-de-split" episodes in bed.
I always thought lesbian couples had longer lasting relationships than
gay ones. I didn't want to know why they split and I guess she didn't
want to tell me. She did want me to know that she was in love with me.
Oh, not like the usual boy-girl thing. Or, maybe it was, her being the
boy and me being.... No, it wasn't like that, we were equal companions.
Peg taught me how to dance and for the sake of looks, when attending
important social affairs, we paired up passing as a straight couple. It
worked because she didn't look butch at all and, as for me, guess I
passed too. Sure, I was using her but it didn't take a rocket scientist
to figure out that she was using me the same way. I was going to miss
her. Maybe I was in love, boy-girl type, and didn't know it.

Why not have Mom meet her, I thought. By now, Mom knows that Peg and I
wouldn't be giving her any grandchildren, and Dad knows that for sure
too. I think that he still has some hope for Bob because they are so much
alike -- we won't go into that right now.

"Sure Mom," I sang out, "I'll give Peg a call right after dinner."

"Can I come too," Bob asked, vaguely joking, "and bring my date?"

Dad's eyes darted to Bob and then sneaked a glance at Mom. Bob must have
told Dad about his break up with Jill and he was looking at Mom trying to
remember if he passed it on to her.

"You have a date?" he asked cautiously.

"Maybe," Bob boasted, as he sat up straight in his chair. " How about the
star of the show? That's if I play my cards right," he quickly added.

He was being smug about it but knowing Bob, he managed to get more than
just acquainted with Mary Spenser at the rehearsals. She not only had a
great voice but she was a dead-ringer for Debbie Reynolds.

"Depending how late you plan dinner," he continued, "we'll have to leave
early, way before you guys. I have to make sure everything is working up
in the projection booth. Those high-powered spot lights rarely crap out
but if they do, it's always at the wrong time."

While he was wolfing it down, he paused in between mouthfuls, to explain
his job up in the booth. I watched him stab a slice of carrot with his
fork and shove it aside, without even trying it. It's a good thing Mom
wasn't looking.

"I have to make sure the standby spots are in place and working. The guy
that's usually in charge of the theater equipment will be there to
supervise me, it's required. He kind of comes with the use of the theater
but I'm the one that does all the work. And, oh yes, Mary has to be there
early for makeup and last minute things."

By Friday night, Mom had rejected the idea of a late dinner and we were
all seated around the dinning room table before six. Both Mary and Peg
had accepted our invitations and they seemed to hit it off well with each
other. Mom seemed to favor Peg. It was the first time they met and she
thought Peg was the greatest thing since sliced bread. It reminded me of
how she took to Chad and how she enjoyed throwing our birthday dinner.

Needless to say, she did it up big again for the pre-show dinner. After
desert, Bob and Mary left early, as planned, and Peg offered to help with
the dishes. Normally, Mom wouldn't allow it with a guest but she enjoyed
talking with Peg so much that they ended up in the kitchen together. Dad
had disappeared somewhere. I took a seat at the kitchen table and
listened in on the conversation. Seems that Mom played tennis when she
was Peg's age so besides being female, they had something else in common.
I was starting to feel like the third wheel on a bicycle so I excused
myself and went out in the yard to pass the time.

The four of us arrived at the theater parking lot before eight. Mom and
Dad went inside leaving Peg and me waiting in front to meet Jim. With the
complimentary ticket that I promised him in hand, I looked over the crowd
hoping that he wouldn't be late. I was amazed to see how many out-of-town
schools were represented. They were bussed in. It was easy to identify
which groups were from neighboring high schools because at least one
among them wore a T-shirt identifying the school. Tickets for this
production were hustled in their schools as well as our own. They did it
too for theirs. Our high schools competed, county wide, for the best
stage production each year. No monetary awards but lots of newspaper
publicity -- which was just as good because it bought more sponsors and
paying customers for the shows that followed.

Our school was in first place for three years straight. That year, with
our new music teacher, it was a slam-dunk because we had the advantage of
having the use of a professional stage, thanks to Mr. Black, the theater
owner. For years, he had been our biggest patron. Before, we had to use
the crappy stage in the school auditorium. His daughter was a student at
our school, before my time. She died of leukemia before she graduated. A
few years back he bought the movie house and turned it into a theatrical
playhouse, dedicating it in memory of his daughter. She had been in some
of the school plays and wanted to become an actress.

Finally, I saw Jim in the crowd. Actually, we spotted each other at the
same time. As he approached, I was surprised to see he was with someone.
Even more of a surprise was who; it was Al. As they got closer, Jim
became just a figure in the background and Al was the only one in sight.
Even at a distance, I tingled at the thought of his body against mine. It
was only a few days ago, but that night, he was in one of my dreams -- no
sex, just telling me about what was wrong with our car, "Billy Junior".
The terminology he used was all gibberish to me. Even if it was useful
information, no way could I understand enough of it to pass it on to Bob.
The next morning, still thinking about him, I wacked-off in the shower.

As we stood there outside the theater and he got closer, I could see that
he was sporting a sleeveless suede vest, over a tan long sleeve shirt --
looked great. He was too close. It would have been too conspicuous for me
to stare at his crotch; I mean pants. The impression I got, when he was
further away, was that they were slim-fit and light in color. His
clothing would have been considered maybe too sporty for some of the
locals who thought this was an occasion that called for their Sunday
best. His pants looked to be a perfect fit and definitely a contrast to
those oversized overalls his dick was flopping around in at the station.
Did I mention that he was nude under those overalls? I had to put that
out of my mind before I got a hard-on but I was dying to look down at his
basket, then and there. I didn't dare with Jim, Peg and other people
nearby. I tried to play it cool and not act like a lovesick teenager when
Jim and he were finally standing in front of us -- it wasn't easy. I
couldn't help notice how he lit up when he saw Peg standing next to me.
The reason for that would come to light soon. Jim came to the rescue with
the introductions.

"You know Bill," he said turning to Al, "and this is Peg -- sorry Peg, I
don't remember your last name," he added quickly acting a little
embarrassed. He should have been, they were both seniors and probably
were in some of the same classes together.

"Baldwin!" she grunted, as she grabbed Al's hand like the handle of a
tennis racket.

Peg never acted that masculine around me. I looked at her... then I got
the drift -- well, somewhat, but what happened next floored me. She gave
me a broad grin along with a quick wink and got in Al's face.

"Just remember," she had lowered her voice a couple of octaves, "he's
mine, you can't have him, get that?"

Al winced in apparent pain from her vicelike grip. When he turned to me
with an overdone, forlorn look, I knew it had to be bogus. I was being
duped.

"We can share, can't we?" he cooed, pretending to melt at the sight of
me.

Not knowing how far he intended to carry this charade, I backed off a
little. There was a moment of silence, and then...

"Got ya!" he shouted in my face smiling from ear to ear. Without turning
to look at Peg, he shot out his arm and punched her lightly on the
shoulder, "Hi Peg!" His face was flushed from holding back what was
rapidly building to an uncontrollable outburst of laughter.

"Tennis Sat... ur... day?" Peg asked, sputtering. She was cracking-up
also and hardly able to speak. Unable to restrain, she let go. That set
Al off and both of them started laughing.

"Sure, I'll be there!" Al said, settling down.

Smiling, he looked into my eyes to observe my reaction. Meanwhile, Jim
stood by taking it all in, I'm sure that he felt left out. I gave him his
ticket and in return, he gave me a glimmer of a smile, thanking me.

"You look bee-fuddled," Al said to him. "Peg and I play tennis together
every Saturday. She talks about Bill all the time." He turned back to me
and continued, "I knew who you were long before that visit to the garage
in back of the station. In a way, Peg didn't know it at the time, but she
encouraged me to make a pass at you."

"Yeah, I'm sure that cars are not the only things that get 'fixed up' in
that garage," Jim smirked, sarcastically. When he realized that there
were others close enough to hear, he immediately lowered his voice to a
whisper. "You showed him the peek hole," he was telling, not asking. "I
could tell you a few stories about that hole."

"I could too," Al retorted, "But I don't tell stories like that around."

Peg looked at me and smiled as if to let me know that she approved the
put down that Al just slung at Jim. I wondered if her smile was also to
cover any gilt that she might be feeling about what she told Al about me.
I can forgive because whatever it was, it put Al on-to-me instead of Bob.
Peg may have given Al the impression that Bob was straight, even though
he observed both of us being sucked off by his boss through the glory
hole. My guess is, he didn't want to try anything risky with Bob when he
first met us. But then, I wondered what would have happened if Bob had
been alone with Al instead of me. Another thing, how come Jim knows about
the peek hole, and how about the stories that Al's not telling? For all I
know, maybe he lets Rayburn watch him satisfy customers that come into
the station for more than just gas. My conclusion: Peg's jealousy was
just camping. Jim may have been just being bitchy, not jealous -- or was
there something going on between Al and Jim? Now, who is the jealous one,
I asked myself.

"Peg sold me this ticket," Al said to Jim, as he reached around to his
back pants pocket and pulled out his wallet. "I had to turn down about
three or four other students that came by the station selling tickets for
this show."

With his ticket in hand, he clicked his heels together, bowed at the
waist and swung his arm in a long sweeping gesture to present us, and our
tickets, to the ticket-taker at the door. The freshman taking the tickets
must have been used to her teen friends pulling such stunts, but not from
Al, an older adult to her. Without hesitating, she responded with a
polite smile and took our tickets.

The seats for the tickets were unassigned. This was to the advantage of
the students who wanted to group together instead of sitting with their
parents. The event was one of the few annual community socials so the
adults took the opportunity to mix and socialize. I spotted four seats
together, in the so-called orchestra section, surprisingly close to the
front. I made sure that I was directly behind Al and guided him into the
row of seats. Peg followed close behind me and Jim followed Peg. If Al
came as Jim's date, I managed to cleverly break that up. After we were
seated, I turned and leaned toward Al.

"Did you come with Jim?" I whispered.

"No," he said, grinning, "I have to answer that two ways. No, because I
never had sex with him -- not my type -- you're more my type. And... No,
he didn't bring me -- I ran into him outside. I know him because of his
deals with Rayburn."

I hadn't planned for it to happen that way but I moved in on Al, leaving
no alternative for Jim but to take up with Peg. I'm not going to lie,
that is exactly what I wanted. Peg didn't mind, she was happy to be with
any guy that didn't have his mind set to get in her panties, or jockey
shorts, or whatever she wore -- kidding, she didn't look the part.
Exactly opposite of me, females turn her on and horny guys were repulsive
to her -- well, maybe not completely. I'm a horny guy but she knows that
I'm definitely not trying for a conquest -- that's why we get along so
well. Come to think of it, she hangs with Al too also, for tennis anyhow,
she must feel safe from him too -- interesting, she must know.

The lights started to dim and I leaned over to Al ready to apologize,
maybe not to apologize, but to prepare him for the sounds that would be
coming from the orchestra pit. Our music teacher worked in radio early in
his career. He was responsible for the so-called "sound patterns" used
for background on at least one well-known radio drama. Since then,
electronic keyboards came into vogue and he became pretty good at it --
good enough to be able to teach keyboard in one of his classes. In the
orchestra pit, there were two keyboards and an electronic organ. The
organ was a permanent fixture, belonging to the theater. He played it and
two of his prodigies manned the keyboards. Instead of the normal
overture, came the distant musical theme played by one of his keyboard
students, overwhelmed by the much-amplified sound of the crashing surf
and howling wind created by the synthesized sounds available on the
keyboards. The initial impact on the audience was overwhelming. The
audience was so taken that it froze, seemingly unresponsive.

Suddenly a spotlight pinpointed the front center of the orchestra pit --
Bob was right on target with the spot, but maybe a little early because
the figure was not fully in place. Three quarters of our music teacher's
body appeared in the lighted circle.

"Ladies and Gentleman!" his voice blared out over the sound system. Mr.
Fuller, our music teacher, had the voice of a professional radio
announcer; he must have done that too earlier in his career. "Concord
High School, Presents!" the background music swelled to a crescendo --
then a cymbal crash. "Lost Island", again the velvety voice boomed out.
The music peaked and died again, "accompaniment and sounds by Josh Sloan
and Harry Bell." The applause rang out alone with whistles, hoots, and
howls from their buddies grouped near the back. He announced, "Josh
Sloan," as Josh did a riff on the keyboard to help announce himself.
Harry Bell, the same when his name was announced. The applause died
quickly as the spotlight extinguished and Mr. Fuller disappeared into the
darkness.

The curtain rose too slowly -- I was so anxious that I wanted to help it,
but as soon as the blue stage lights changed to gold, I realized that the
effect was more dynamic than I anticipated. An undercurrent of mumbling
slowly arose from the audience then delayed clapping. At first, I thought
it was because applause was traditional at a start of any performance but
the mumbling had a bunch of oohs and ahs mixed in. Mr. Fuller responded
extemporaneously when he realized that the commotion from the audience
was in admiration of what they were seeing as the curtain rose. There was
an unintentional plunk heard on the speakers as the microphone was turned
back on. Once again, this time he was out of sight somewhere down in the
orchestra pit; his voice rang out, "Sets and scenery by Peggy Baldwin and
William Allan." The crowd went wild. Admittedly, most of it was from our
schoolmates. I could almost hear Mom say to the other parents around her,
that's my son that did the scenery. Tears welled up in my eyes but I
managed to hold back. All of this was for Peg and me! Al squeezed my hand
tightly; we were already holding hands under the armrest. I reached over
with my other hand to meet Peg's palm. We slapped and locked hands.

"They're clapping for us!" she yelled, excitedly.

The spotlight started whirling around the audience, the applause
continued, growing even louder. Al let go of my hand.

"Stand! Stand!" he shouted.

I clinched Peg's hand even tighter and forced her to her feet while I
rose to a half standing position. The spotlight found us and extinguished
very quickly as we squatted to sit back down. I knew it was Bob behind
it; he knew I would be in the audience.

"It's your talent that they are applauding," Peg whispered. The clapping
had died down to an abrupt silence.

"But it was your design that made it all possible," realizing that I was
excited, I lowered my voice.

The first act was well on its way before I came back to earth. While I
was tied up, doing my thing, painting, I had no conception of the kudos
my hard work would bring. It was more than worth the glorious moments
that I felt then. On the downside, I thought about Peg's leaving. I would
have to find another companion, but more than that, I would be the top
honcho, the experienced one, and expected to carry on the tradition. The
burden would fall on me to recreate what Peg and me did this year, or
something more spectacular. I sat there with my eyes glued on the
scenery, critiquing my own work. It was all about what I would and
wouldn't do next time. I was so involved that I didn't realize that the
first act had ended.

"Intermission," Al shouted, as he let go of my hand to applaud along with
the rest of the audience. The lights went up.

Jim and Peg stood up. I started to get up when I realized that Al was
still clinging tightly to my hand, under the arm of the seat. I pulled to
release it but he held on tighter.

"Let's stay... if you don't mind," he whispered, squeezing even tighter
to enforce his request, "I would like to talk."

"You guys go ahead," I said, turning to Peg.

She smiled, as if to say that she knew what was up, gave me a quick wink,
and pushed on Jim's shoulder to force him out to the main isle.

"Hope you don't mind staying," he whispered. "Stupid!" he uttered,
meaning it for himself, "I didn't ask. Maybe you want to stretch or go to
the little boy's room and..."

"No, no!" I interrupted, "Holding my hand like you are doing now, and
smelling as good as you do, I couldn't leave here if I had too. I'd have
to stand up and everyone would see the effect you have on me. Can't you
just see me, walking up to a urinal and whipping out the hard-on that's
tenting my pants right now?"

"Nice to know that I affect you that way. And to think that meeting
again, outside... you could have ended up sitting somewhere else here in
the theater next to who knows who."

"I was hoping I would see you again. Glad we ran into each other
tonight," I said softly.

"I am too," he cooed, rather shyly. Then he moved in closer and whispered
in my ear. "Maybe we can get together again like we did the first time I
met you." He squeezed my hand tightly.

Remembering how great sex was with him, the very thought of it made my
cock even harder than it was. To show him I was 'ready and willing', I
pulled his relaxed hand over to my crotch, pushed it into the hardness
there, and then glided it back under the armrest.

"Now you got mine started," he whispered. "You have a place to go?"

"No, not right off," I whispered back.

The conversation died for a while, we directed our attention to the
stage. Then, I leaned over and whispered.

"Tell you what! There's always a little celebration after opening night.
I'm inviting you as my guest. It's at the Teen Canteen so you can leave
your car here and we can all walk over together. I'm expected to show
with the cast, but we can leave right away."

A few minutes passed before he spoke again. "I would ask you to sleep
over at my place but my roommate..."

"He straight?" I asked. Another possibility was that they were lovers.

"Straight, way too much so!" he mumbled out of the corner of his mouth,
without looking away from what was taking place on the stage. After
awhile, he turned to me to explain. "Our beds are in the same room. He
doesn't know about me and that's the way I want it to stay."

I didn't say anything. I was stumped for a solution. Home was out, for
sure -- maybe in his car, out in the boondocks. I put it out of my mind
for the time being.

After the show, we started the walk over to the Teen Canteen. Peg took
Jim's arm and they walked ahead of us. Good old Peg, she knew what was
going on -- love that gal. When we got there, I kept Al close by and Peg
stayed at my side, it was expected. After a few minutes, he spotted one
of his old school chums. It was a guy about his own age so he excused
himself to go over to talk to him. Jim wondered off somewhere too leaving
Peg and me alone. This was my chance to level with her and tell her how
much she meant to me. She would be leaving in a few days and we may not
have a chance to talk before she goes. Maybe I could con Mom into a party
or something for her. She would do that; Mom likes her. After we got
through all the mushy stuff, I apologized for pushing off Jim on her.

"Don't apologize; he's cool in a cold sort of a way. Oh, he's alright,
but don't leave me here with him when you guys take off."

"As a matter of fact, we were planning on leaving early."

"Whenever! I'm ready to bug out anytime you are. All I ask is that you
studs drop me home."

Since the walk to Peg's house was probably closer than the theater
parking lot where Al's car was, we decided to walk in that direction.
After we started walking away from the canteen, Peg was first to speak.

"Allen and Allen, you guys are my best buds." She turned to Al, "Allen,
your first name." Then she turned to me, "and Allen, your last name.
Allen and Allen, sounds like a law firm. I knew I would bring you two
together sooner or later. You two are well suited for each other and not
just because you have the same names."

"But you had nothing to do with us meeting tonight, right?" Al asked.

"That was a fortunate coincidence. I knew you guys would be a perfect
match and I was planning to play matchmaker and get you two together some
night."

"Well I guess, accidentally, tonight turned out to be the night!" I said.

"Yeah, but unfortunately, I won't be around to see how my match turns
out," Peg sniffled.

It has already turned out. Bill and I met at the garage.

"I knew it! Here I was patting myself on the back for bringing you two
together when all the time.... Dah, now I get it. That's what Jim was
getting at with that sly remark about getting fixed up in the garage."

She stretched out both of her arms and attempted to pull us in closer to
her. "Now doesn't that just frost your balls," she said in a jovial
manner.

The expression didn't fit our situation, not at all, and it was
completely out of character for her. That's what made it so funny. Al was
the first to crack up, I followed, and then realizing how stupid it
sounded coming from her, Peg joined in. We ended up in a group hug. I was
going to miss her all right. She would be leaving this hick town and
leaving us, almost her only friends, behind. That's enough to make anyone
feel down, even me. Peg was feeling sentimental. She started talking
about knowing Al from before, when she was a freshman. She met Al on the
tennis courts and decided, right there on the court, he was going to be
her man. When Al asked her for a date, she fell for him 'hook, line, and
sinker'.

"And now," she turned to me, "I'm giving him to you."

"I'll take him! I'll take him," I said enthusiastically. Al's face turned
red, Peg noticed.

"Well," She sighed, "I can see that I'm not needed -- yeah, about like
tits on a bull. Kidding, I like those tripe expressions. Love you both!"
she added quickly, as she flung her arms around me and gave me a light
peck on the cheek.

"Don't I get one," Al jokingly complained. He stretched out his neck
toward her so she could get to his cheek.

"Okay, as long as you don't try to rape me."

I could see it right away, from the expression on her face. She had
goofed and said something that she shouldn't have. She gave him a quick
kiss and then drew back and looked into his eyes as if she was
apologizing.

"Hey!" she said abruptly, turning away from him. "This is where I live. I
would ask you studs in. And... 'I would let you kiss me, but I just
washed my hair.'" She was mocking a line from an old Bette Davis flick.
"Bringing two males to bed with me, I am sure Aunt Jesus would have a
heart attack."

"Well," I said, while chuckling slightly, "thanks for the offer but we
have to go."

She reached out and opened the gate. "Well guys -- have to go," she said
as she stepped into the yard. Waving to us, she backed up a few steps and
then turned her back to us. Without looking back, she opened the front
door and went in.

We started walking toward the theater parking lot. I am sure that we were
thinking the same thing, that we were going to miss her. But then, Al
seemed to be deep in thought about something else. Finally he told me
what he was thinking, in the way of a confession.

"Yeah, I've known Peg a long time, on and off. When I first met her, way
back, we almost had a good thing started. What she didn't say back there,
was that our short romance ended when I tried to pork her."

"Bull! Come clean! You mean you tried to fuck her? Gross!"

"Well, I tried because I thought that was the right thing to do with
girls. I wasn't cherry, so she wasn't the first. She didn't know what she
wanted and I didn't either."

"Was she gay, I mean for girls at the time?"

"I'm not sure. Even now I'm not sure she knows herself. She was thick
with a gym teacher for a short time but I think she might still be out
for the right guy."

"Man, I got the impression that she was out-and-out for girls."

"Well, I didn't. Else I wouldn't have tried to... there's my car over
there," he pointed the way.

As I slid into the passenger seat, I thought about Al trying to "get it
on" with Peg and how little I knew about either of them. Al started the
motor and we left the parking lot. When we got out on the street and
whizzed past the park I started to wonder where we were headed.

"Where are we going? You are not going to take me home just yet, are you?
Just wondering because that's my street we just passed."

"Yep, taking you home, my home, my apartment! That's if there is a
vacancy at this time -- by my roommate not being there."

"I was thinking; I want Mom to meet you. I'm going to get her to do
dinner for you and Peg. She likes Peg, and I know she'll go ballistic
over you... like her son already has. Will you come?"

"Sure, I would like to meet her."

Luck wasn't with us. When we pulled over at the curb in front of his
apartment house, Al cut the motor and turned to me.

"Man, what now? That jeep parked behind us is his, he's home. We could
take off again or just sit and talk."

"Yeah," I said sounding disappointed. We just sat there for a moment, and
then both of us started to speak at the same time.

"You first," he said, smiling at the blunder.

"No you," I shot back.

"Oh, fuck! Well then." He reached out and twisted the key in the
ignition. As soon as the motor turned over, he gunned it and the tires
squealed as we bugged out. As soon as we hit a straight a way he yelled
over at me, "We're going to a motel!"

"Great! You going to rape me daddy?" I said, sounding like a kid.

"Yes son," he replied, in the voice of an older masculine male, "we are
going to sleep together, and maybe I'll let you fuck me." Was he joking
about screwing him? -- maybe not.

"You come right out with it don't you Dad?" I was mimicking a kid again.

"Man, I forgot to ask, is it okay for you to sleep over with me tonight?
Better be!"

"Tonight, and every night, and every night thereafter," I announced,
poetically.

"I'll stop somewhere on the highway get the provisions on the way out to
the Motel 6."

"Great, but spin a u-ee. I want to run by the house to leave a note."

"Sure! I forgot to ask what time you were expected home."

"No problem. I just don't want them to report me as a missing person and
see my picture on the back of a milk carton in the morning."

When we were on our block, I had him pull over in front of the neighbor's
house. All the lights were out at our house and the BMW was in the
driveway but no sign of Bob's car. Their bedroom was in front and I
thought pulling up in front of the house might wake them. I wanted to
leave a note instead of going through the ordeal of confronting them. I
scribbled a quick one and posted it on the refrigerator door, better
known as our message center. Al had left the motor running so the escape
was, thankfully, without the sound of ribbing the motor and leaving
rubber.

"What did you say?" he asked, kidding me along, "Gone to shack up with a
gay bud. Going to fuck all night and won't be home until dawn or
thereafter?" He looked over at me and noticed that I hadn't taken it as
he intended. "Sorry, couldn't resist!" he added, apologetically.

"Bob isn't home yet," I remarked, ignoring his jest. "He's probably
dicking Mary Spenser about now."

"That's a problem?"

"No, not really. So he likes pussy better than dick -- so what," I
muttered.

"Maybe he likes both, like me! I like sex, any way I can, male or female!
-- anyway I can get it."

"Yeah, not too long ago I gave that one a fling," I confessed. "After
trying it, I became convinced that I like dick better."

"How's that?" He took his eyes off of the road and looked over at me,
anxious to hear more.

"Oh, Jim and Bob took me out to the boondocks to break me in to the
boy-girl thing. Her name was Mary Ann."

"Man, that must have been something. That big cock of yours plunging in
and out of her -- man you're giving me a boner again."

"Yeah, I guess I really performed well but what really turned me on was
that Jim and Bob were watching and it turned them on. The climax was
spectacular, jointly, for all three of us."

"Did they screw her too?"

"No! Jim did Bob and we kind of shot cum all over each other."

I'm sure that he wanted to know more but the conversation ended abruptly
when we pulled into a Seven-Eleven. He left the motor running, jumped out
of the car, and went in. When he returned, I made an offer to pay for the
goodies and beer, but he refused.

"Never mind! I have a credit card. Everything is on me tonight, including
the motel."

I usually feel uneasy when I can't pay my way but in this case, I felt he
wanted it that way -- who was I to take away his enjoyment by insisting.
We were on our way again when he spoke to break the silence.

"What you thinking?"

"Oh, not much," I mumbled, "but there is something that I'm curious
about, not sure I should ask."

"Okay, okay, out with it," he commanded.

"I told you why I like guys, how about you?"

"Oh, that's easy. My old man got my cherry when I was ten," he answered
without hesitating.

"Fuck man! Your father... raped you?" I gasped and swallowed hard.

"They called it molesting a minor."

I just listened, waiting for him to go on.

"It hurt like hell the first time... but... after the first few times, I
liked it. It actually got to the point where when she was asleep, he
would come to my bed. Many of nights, I would lay waiting for him.
Eventually, she caught us."

"Your Mom?" I asked, lowering my voice to sound sympathetic.

"No, Aunt Bet. Mom passed away a few years before. Dad saw a lot of her
in me... I was filling a need for him. Bet threatened to have him jailed
if he didn't get out of the house. She threw my dad out, her own brother.
Haven't seen him since, there wasn't any court action but she took it on
herself to have me start seeing a shrink."

"And," I said, encouraging him to go on.

"Do you have to ask? Judge for yourself. Tell you this, he didn't psych
me into going straight."

"Do you think that your Dad fucked up your life completely by doing what
he did?"

"Fuck no! I fantasized having sex with him way before I was old enough to
pound my pub. Then after we had sex, and it became real, all of my dreams
and hopes were answered."

"You know something, I fantasized having sex with my dad too," I
confessed.

"I believe that, I saw him at Rayburn's. I did the 'make-ready' on his
BMW. He's hot, man. He's hot!"

"I hope that you are not going to tell me that you saw him through the
peek hole."

"Afraid not, but Man, make my day. Tell me that you are getting some of
that."

"No, but I've had fantasies of giving him head many times, especially
when I saw how big it was," I confessed.

"Shit, you are getting me hot."

"You still into sex with older guys?" I asked, wondering.

"Was at first, because they were the aggressive ones. Lately, things have
changed for the better."

"Same here. I was making it with an older guy, not as old as Dad -- great
sex." It was Tony, but I didn't mention his name. I went on to ask
something that I was curious about. "If your Dad showed up, would you
have sex with him?"

"Hell yes!" he answered without hesitating. "We had something going,
there toward the end. Man, he had a cock on him that wouldn't quit. He
could make me cum without touching myself."

"Oh, fuck! Oh, fucking-A! That makes my ass hole pucker. I almost came
that way with you. If it had lasted just a little longer -- look mom, no
hands."

"Fuck, I wish that I had known that, I could have made it last longer. If
Bob hadn't joined us...."

I was glad that he didn't go on. I was afraid that he was going to bring
Bob into the conversation and start asking questions that I couldn't
answer truthfully. I owed it to Bob to not reveal the secret that we had
kept between us from almost from day one.

"About Bob..." he said suddenly.

I gasped inside. Here it comes, I thought.

"Do you two communicate mentally? I've heard that some twins can do
that."

"In a way," I said, greatly relieved he wasn't asking about for the
truth, if Bob and I had sex together on a regular basis. "You can call it
that. True, we sometimes know what the other one is thinking, we always
have. I think that's because we know each other so well."

We kind of thought of it as a game when we were kids. Then, as we got
older, it became more serious. Later, I noticed that I couldn't read Bob
as well as I used to. I was careful not to tell him too much about "The
Power". There was no way I would call it by name, that was a secret
between Bob and me -- we made a pack. I told Al just enough to answer his
question, and no more.

"I was asking," he said, after listening to me, "because I don't know
what to believe about that stuff. One time my shrink was supposed to have
me under hypnosis. He thought so, but when I realized where he was
leading me, I peeked. What I was telling him about sex with my father,
was getting him horny. I saw him fondling his hard pecker through his
pants. When I saw that, I really poured on the hard-core gay porno. I bet
I made him come in his trousers."

"Fuck, man! Cool.. fuckin' cool!"

I suddenly felt the car slowing down and as I looked ahead, I saw the
neon vacancy sign on the Motel 6 -- the "NO" part of it wasn't lit. Al
pulled into the parking lot and immediately jumped out of the car and
splinted toward the office. I reached over the seat, grabbed the six-pack
and the bag containing the snacks, and got out of the car. After Al
unlocked the door to the room, he took the beer from me and went straight
for the little beverage refrig and put it away. He sat plunked down on
the bed to remove his shoes.

"We can get some more beer or booze later if we need it," he said. "We
passed a liquor store on the way. And, Oh yeah, they have tapes that you
can rent over in the office."

"Any porno?" I asked eagerly.

"As far as I could see, some of it. Doubt if any of it is gay stuff. I
can run over to check it out closer, later."

I was in the process of transferring the snacks from the bag I carried in
to the top of the dresser when I noticed a pack of Trojans in the bottom
and reached for them.

"Ah, ha! I know what you are planning for tonight!" I hardly got it out
when I felt him kiss the back of my neck.

"Shucks, caught with my dick in my hand. My plan has been foiled," he
said, being overly dramatic. "Now you know why I lured you into this den
of iniquity." He had me in a tight clinch with his body pressed against
my back.

I reached around to touch his side -- I was surprised to feel bare skin
-- he was naked.

"Gurr! I'm going to eat you alive... but right now I'm going to take a
shower," he growled.

When I turned around to face him, he was gone. I heard the shower door
snap. When I looked, I caught only a glimpse of his masculine frame, with
that muscular ass, disappear in the stall. I was so excited that I took a
flying leap onto the bed. After I calmed down, I sat up and removed all
my clothes, without getting up. To entertain myself while waiting for him
to come out of the shower, I wrapped my fist around my cock and slowly
started stroking myself. It didn't take more than a few tugs and it was
up ready for action. I held it there, as erect as it could get. With my
eyes closed, I started pinching the very tip of my nipples to increase my
pleasure -- first one and then the other, in turn, back and forth. I was
getting very much with it when I felt the bed quiver. My eyes shot open.

"Don't move. Keep holding it. I want a taste."

"Hey, I was going to get up and take a shower," I cried in surprise.

"I got something better," he cooed as his tongue darted out and took a
swipe across the head of my dick. "You're going to get a tongue bath."

He drew a line with his tongue starting at my navel, up between my pecs,
up my neck, and to my lips. My lips parted and our tongues met. I felt
his body move over mine and his hard cock rub against me. I never dreamed
anything could feel that good. My body, from the tip of my tongue to the
tip of my toes was in sheer delight. I closed my eyes.

"Man this is nice," he whispered, breathing hard.

I felt his body shift and move radically and then I became aware that
there was some pressure on my chest. When I slowly opened my eyes, I
found him straddling my upper torso with the flared head of his dick only
inches from my lips. There was a thread of precum hanging there. Rather
than go directly for the source, I swiped my tongue through the thread
and followed it up to the slit, where it was oozing out. He moaned when
the head slipped into my mouth. I froze, motionless, when I realized how
much precum there was. For a second, I thought he came. I popped the knob
out of my mouth and ran my tongue around its smooth surface smearing the
precum around. The entire length of his cock jumped a couple of times and
then his whole body started to quiver.

"FFFuck man, suck it! Suck it!" he yelled, uncontrollably.

My salivary glands must have heard and realized what I was about to do; I
was actually drooling. My first impulse was to go-for-it and slam all the
way down on it -- not this time. Instead, I took my time by reaching
behind him, clasping his ass with both hands and placing my lips on the
very tip. While holding my own head rigid, I pulled him toward me to
swallow his whole body -- dick first. He let out a long moan, so powerful
that made the base of this cock vibrate on my lips. Almost gagging, I
nestled my nose in his pubic hairs while I pulsed my throat muscles by
swallowing again and again. He moaned with each swallow. I finally had to
back off to catch my breath. While holding it in my hand, I took a couple
of hard licks at the crown and slipped it back in my mouth. It was
wonderful to make love to him this way, by feeling him in my mouth,
tasting him, smelling him.

"Man, you like that don't you!" he muttered, hardly able to speak.

I sucked hard and yanked it out, deliberately making a popping sound.
"For sure. I love sucking your cock!" I panted, trying to catch my breath
again, and resumed by licking it like a lollipop.

Still straddling me, he reached around behind himself and grabbed my
rigid pole. I felt his thumb swipe back and forth over the slit -- it was
driving me wild.

"The head is leaking," he announced, as if he were giving a customer the
bad news at the garage. "Must be a blown gasket -- you have a bad leak
there." It was reminiscent of a dream I had a few nights before. He let
go and brought his hand up to his face. "Man, that's precum," he said as
he licked the palm of his hand and fingers. "And lots of it. For a sec I
thought you came."

"Hey," I remarked, "Awhile ago I checked your oil too. You aren't low by
any means."

"It's not oil or KY, "he said, licking his fingers, "but I hear it makes
a good lube when fucking a tight ass without using a rubber."

I knew where this was going. I had hints of it already. Playing it cool,
I decided to let him play it out.

"Never mind," he went on, playing the part, "don't move!"

He shifted around and stretched his arm over to the night stand where,
when I was not looking, he had conveniently placed the package of
rubbers.

"Great, these are lubricated."

Putting the wrapper to his teeth, he pulled to rip it open. While still
holding on to my cock with the other hand, he gave me a quick peck on the
lips. Then he licked his way down to my dick.

"Don't move," he commanded, "I have to get it wet so this will slip on
easier."

And get it wet, he did. It was head, 'ex..uber..ance' -- deep throat and
all. I had to reach down and hold his bobbing head.

"Cool it!" I moaned. "Slow down. There won't be any cum left, we won't
need the rubber if you keep that up."

"Man, it's a good thing you stopped me, almost came myself." He stopped
to catch his breath and swallow. "Wow! My God you have a big cock. I hope
I can do it justice."

He gave it another quick lick and unrolled the rubber over my dick.
Before I could recover from all the attention I was getting down there,
he straddled me again. Bending forward, our lips met and we started
kissing again. As he rocked, the head of my cock rode the crevice between
his cheeks. He finally reached back and guided it home to the target --
bull's eye, so to speak. The kissing and tonguing became more intense as
the warmness closed around what had become a very hard-mushroomed cap.
His breathing became labored. I was afraid that it wasn't going to go in.
Slowly, he pulled away from my face, sat up straight, and breathed a loud
moan -- for an instant it felt like my dick was being pushed against a
stonewall. Suddenly, I felt my cock slip in and pop past the ring. His
mouth dropped open as he caught his breath. I felt him relax. The
pressure let up, and then a glorious sensation as it slipped in deep.

It started slowly at first, his rocking back and forth. His erection was
bouncing up and down slapping against me. I wanted to reach out, take it
in my hand, and jerk him off slowly to increase his pleasure -- I
restrained myself. Instead of giving him a hand, I wanted him to cum, no
hands, the same as he did with his father. When he reached for it, I
pushed back his hand; he got the idea.

Still straddling me, he managed to lean backward and support his body by
placing his arms behind him with each hand on the bed next to my legs.
That gave me the freedom to move my hips beneath him. Also, to my
delight, I could look down the length of my own body and get a perfect
view of my dick enter his body each time he moved downward on it. The
best part about it was that I would see both his balls and hard cock
dancing around. He was taking full advantage of the length of my prong.
At times, his movement away from me was so extreme that he allowed all
but the very tip to come out. At times, he was down on it so far that he
did a lap dance in my pubic hairs. There was no doubt about it. This guy
liked to be fucked and his swinging hard-on proved it.

"Take it easy man, I want this to last all night," I panted.

"It will," he muttered, spasmodically, "even if I do make you cum right
now."

"Fucking-A, I yapped, as I pushed on his body, "I want you down under me.
I want to do some of the work."

"Yeah man," he responded, as he slung forward, crashing down on me. "Hold
on tight," he growled.

I threw my arms around him, crushing him tightly against me. I'm not sure
how he did it but, we rolled over. To my surprise, I was on top and my
cock was still buried deep in him.

"Now stud!" he uttered from beneath me, "let's see what you can do." He
raised his legs to my shoulders. That's all the encouragement I needed.

"You are going to get fucked like you never been fucked before!" I
snarled, as I took the first slam in him, deep and hard.

"Fuck me! Fuck me!" he yelled, "give me that big dick!"

>From then on, it was a wild dance accompanied with the sounds of moaning
and shouting, coming from both of us. Finally, I knew it was happening. I
slowed up so I could observe -- it was something I didn't want to miss.
First, I felt his insides grabbing my dick, almost crushing it. Then, the
grand finale. It was the most fantastic thing that I have ever witnessed.
His cock jumped and fired the first shot, as he let out a loud moan that
sounded more like a wolf howling. The cum expelled in a stream, making a
white trail, like you see when a missile has been launched from Cape
Canaveral. It jetted toward his face, leaving a rope of cum all the way
up to his chin. There were two more, but not quite as spectacular. Each
time he let out a moan; his cheek muscles clamped my dick so hard that it
was almost painful.

"Fuck, man!" I yelled as I pulled out of him. It was like he didn't want
to let go.

Being afraid I wasn't going to be fast enough, I pinched the reservoir at
the end of the rubber and yanked it off; it popped loudly. In a flash, I
climbed his body and managed to straddle his chest. When in position, I
aimed quickly and fired my load into his open mouth. We both collapsed,
exhausted.

When I awoke, I had no idea of what time it was or how long I had been
asleep. When I rolled over and found that there was no one in bed with
me, I started to put it together. Al had gone to the manager's office the
check out and maybe rent some porno. I was right, a minute later I heard
the door being unlocked. He appeared grinning in the doorway clutching a
stack of video tapes.

"You crashed, so I just let you sleep. You need to get up your strength,"
he said, reaching over and grabbing my soft dick as he sat down on the
bed. "Surprise! they had a couple of gay ones."

"Hey, give me a chance to take a shower," I exclaimed, excited. I jumped
up and sprinted for the shower.

"Judging from the tapes they have over there, I don't think this motel is
quite as family oriented as they claim to be. And look at this," he
shouted so I could hear from the bathroom. "This TV has a built-in VCR.
Now did they put here for kiddie cartoons or what? he ask, suspiciously.
"I'll just slap in this 'Gay Guys With Big Dicks' tape and see if it will
play one that's not for the kiddies."

About the last thing I heard as I turned on the water was...

"Hey, I'm waiting out here! Don't play with yourself while you are in
there. Save it for me!"

After I got in the shower, I thought about Bob. It was only in passing
and different this time. It wasn't "The Power" making me feel his
presence. It wasn't Bob's invisible spirit that I felt. It wasn't
spiritual at all. It was about Al and the same feeling that I felt in bed
with him. I wondered why.

TO BE CONTINUED - All comments are welcome.
Please put "The Power" in the e-mail subject line.