This is the twenty-seventh chapter of “The Jennings Family.” As we have stated in earlier chapters, the story contains bisexuality and sexual acts involving adults and under-age minors, both related and non-related, in accordance with the shared story preferences of the authors. If any of this is objectionable to you, you might like to leave and go to another story.
As was the case regarding the earlier stories that this team has produced and the previous chapters of this story, the reader should realize that the usual disclaimer applies about how this is purely fictional and none of the actions, persons, and places in the story really exist. Nothing in this story should be read as anything but fictional.
Feedback, which is desired and appreciated, can be sent to “Brad Gillespie” at the address RBZ followed by the digits 3141 at gmail.com. Please put the story title in the subject line. But don't be surprised if the name on the responses is different. That e-mail account is under a different pseudonym than the one I used to write this story.
Feedback to “Tucson Daddy” can be sent to lannyr99 at yahoo.com.
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Dawn sleepily pulled at the dark curtains of the sky like a red-faced toddler tugging the blankets at the foot of its parents' bed. Tendrils of weak light came through the window, throwing dull images on the wall.
Jacob was breathing soft, steady, still miles from the shore of wakefulness. Tim lay awake beside him, one arm thrown over his eyes to block out the early light of the dawn that somehow managed to insert itself into the room. He was recalling the previous night.
What a night it had been!
Love making with Aaron, his former roommate, left him nearly breathless then, almost as much now. In the still shadowy early hours, as his thoughts returned to those hot, sexy moments, he was thrilled by now, as they grunted and strained to attain sexual satisfaction. He'd been with other men, but none of them had affected him the way Jacob had.
Few spend even a few moments to recall the magic of love. Those who do squander them, remembering only the satisfaction they had gained. What an empty, jaded world they must inhabit!
“Maybe it was true,” he thought. He was too much the romantic, a throwback to earlier times and places.
He thrived on mutual satisfaction that he and his partner attained after long minutes of foreplay. The touching, fondling, giggling, which evolved into gasps when fingers found certain places. Driving lust higher with kisses pressed against open mouths. With tongues writhing about the other in their mad rush to the finish line. Legs around his waist, crying for…
…More!
…Faster!
…Harder!
Until his partner came with a groan or a shriek and he'd follow, thrusting deeply into the tight tunnel freely offered. His own body giving itself to completion of the mating dance, holding, straining to pump the last semen, then collapsing atop his lover, as they panted, regaining breath. Afterward, when rationality resumed, they'd assure each other that it had been wonderful, and cuddle until Morpheus overtook them and they'd sleep.
He remembered such triumphs, as a connoisseur recalled the taste of fine vintages. This morning, the goblet he quaffed from was Jacob and their night of shared pleasure. Most of his lovers had been good, some very good, and a minuscule few were beyond compare.
Then there was Jacob!
He felt his breath catch in his throat at the thought of their joint couplings. Cries of lust rising, then waning, wanting, willing that desire be fulfilled. In the most fanciful of imaginings, he'd not anticipated how one person would or could affect him. Jacob had come into his life as just another student from a campus of 18,000. Tim's gaydar had failed him.
At first.
It wasn't he who had initiated that first sexual experience. But Jacob!
Some discover the innate expression of sensual desire at a young age, as he had. Others take longer. Perhaps the chance encounter of seeing one man suck another before it burst into full blossom. It may have been a dramatic event, a close friend propositioning.
The death of a spouse. After the grieving, he was left empty. In six months or a year later, he was ready to begin a search for such a perfect woman. She had been his soul mate, his once in a lifetime, her yin to his yang. He needed another. It seemed impossible.
In desperation, he turned to his closest friend, who had supported him through his recovery. Somehow a spark was struck, and he knew he'd found what he had been looking for. Without realizing it, he set out to explore an alternative avenue for human companionship and intimacy, and found a new way to achieve both. Even the best marriages might not completely satisfy the nascent cock sucker from wanting and wanting and wanting.
Tim had always viewed life as a kind of cosmic game of chance. A card game, where a hand is dealt. Some play it badly, and end up with the joker. Some seek the royal flush and fall short, always disappointed. Others play brilliantly, carefully, until the game ended, finding all the chips in front of him. Though he couldn't be sure how he and Jacob would end, something inside felt so very right about their affair.
In Belle, fate had dealt him another hand. Played right, he'd have a second win.
He must have dozed, for when he awoke it was due not to the brightness of the morning, but to the feeling of cheeks squeezing insistently, his throbbing hardness trapped between them. Jacob's husky whisper asked, “Are you going to do something with that, or just tease me?”
Tim chuckled. Jacob's back pushed up against him, whose arm wrapped around Jacob's body, to find and fondle his hard on. “Maybe. Got any good ideas in mind?”
“Plenty,” came Jacob's reply. “But one stands out far better than others.” He felt Tim's response: a poke pushing more deeply between his cheeks. Making him thrill. A few hours ago, he had offered himself to Tim in a different way: his virginity.
Jacob had read about, and watched, how gay love is consummated. Over the weeks, Tim had begun with the basics: kissing, nipple play, and cock sucking; the biggest step could not be consummated without consent of Jacob's wife. That was their deal, though neither had considered that Jacob would be the one to first thrill at penetration.
After Jacob had skillfully negotiated such coupling, he never anticipated… No, it would never happen the other way. Never.
“Mmm… Bastard!” came the laughing reply, “You need to oil up so we can carry on properly.” Jacob then reached for the bottle lying on the bed nearby just within reach. Picking it off the sheet, he passed it to Tim's hand, reaching blindly for it.
Tim moved back to press the open end of the plastic bottle against Jacob's pucker, and squeezed. He felt the bottle bend at his pressure, shooting lube into his gut. One more dollop for his cock, and it was done in a moment.
“Roll onto your back,” he whispered.
It took a moment for Jacob to disentangle himself from sheets wrapped around his legs, roll onto his back, and look expectantly at Tim's form, a few feet away, kneeling just beyond his thighs. Cock stiff, pointing directly at him, he smiled and asked, “What are you waiting for?”
Tim shuffled forward on his knees until he was between Jacob's thighs, then leaned forward to press his cock head against his lover's pucker. Having made contact, he pushed against it, feeling it push back, resisting. Leaning in more forcefully, resistance was far less than the first two times.
Jacob grunted, startled by the sudden release of pressure against his muscle, even though he had been expecting it.
“You OK, babe?” asked Tim with only mild concern, looking at the man who lay beneath him.
“Yeah!” he replied. “Don't stop.” Their eyes met, and held, sharing the excitement of this moment.
Tim pushed inward; Jacob outward. The two forces collided, anus opened, and Tim was inside.
“Oh gawd, but that feels good!” moaned Jacob, eyes closed and head thrown back in ecstasy.
“Wrap your legs around me,” whispered Tim, sinking his full length completely into Jacob's hole, The initial entry always felt so good: warm velvet holding his cock captive. His balls met Jacob's cheeks, he was all the way in. Both of them were in heaven or approaching that destination.
Tim pulled back out, paused a moment, then dove back down Jacob's tunnel, pushing him to a new high. With typical masterful experience guiding him, he began to pump into his lover until he was close, then draw back before pushing in once more, then once more, and more again. After 15 minutes of assault on his man pussy, Jacob shot off his load, followed closely by Tim, sending geysers of cum to coat his gut.
They clung together, saying warm and tender words to each other, not wanting this moment to end. But it did when Tim's flaccid cock slipped out of Jacob's hole. He rolled his weight off to cuddle with Jacob for awhile.
“Are mornings all so good?” asked Jacob?
“You tell me, lover. Belle seems like a sexy lady.”
“Sexy? Always. In the mood, not so always.” Jacob responded. “Let me put it this way, Belle has her off moments and I respect those. Just seems as though with days, months, and years passing, so does the desire. I love her and always will. We each deserve some time away from the hurly-burly of daily lives.”
“You're far more experienced than I in that department,” he said. “Surely you've faced times when your lover doesn't.”
Was there any reason to continue a conversation which all know the answers? None. The silence stretched almost to breaking when Jacob asked, looking meaningfully at Tim, “Going to join me for a shower? I really must go back to my Belle.”
They enjoyed a mutual time beneath the cascading waters, washing each other, laughing, cavorting in their final moments together. Then, once again, it was done. After wiping each other, they returned to Tim's room, where Jacob and he dressed. A final kiss, then Jacob reluctantly left his old room.
Only after Jacob had gone, did Tim turn to the mysterious call from Jeff.
In the days after they'd consummated a mutual attraction, they had shared some interesting talks about physics problems far beyond those found in most undergraduate college courses. Not the sort of pillow talk that follows some lovers. Jeff treated Tim with some esteem for his knowledge of physics that went beyond the typical undergraduate's.
Jeff had found in Tim what he'd sought in others, a mind that was keen, open, and ready to venture into the unknown. He accepted Jeff's challenges with more curiosity than most first-year students would.
Tim recalled the message, “Tim, sorry I missed you. Just to let you know that I'm going to take that trip to Omaha I told you about last week. Later, buddy,” he said before hanging up.
The message sounded so casual, and ordinary. To some, but not to Tim. He smiled recalling one conversation they'd had. He was certain that Jeff's destination was not some town in Nebraska.
Omaha. It wasn't a city but a code.
Rather, this was something Jeff had told him about in one of their serious times in bed after slow love making. They were recouping for another round of the same satisfying dish. Tim lay in his arms as he often was, like a child with his father.
“I need to tell you something,” began Jeff, kissing Tim's forehead. “Something very serious. I can only say this once, but I know with your eidetic memory, you'll always have it.
Tim said nothing, just looked at his mentor, his lover, and waited.
“Some years back, soon after I took the position as head of the physics department, an old friend called. He was in town and invited me to join him and a colleague for dinner at one of the nicer places in town. Even as a ranking professor, head of the physics department, the compensation was merely passable, less than satisfactory had I been with a large company. Therefore I was ready to be treated.
“I was impressed, and happy to join them. Many years ago in our undergraduate days, he'd developed a somewhat secretive personality. I felt sure there was more to this meeting than just another trip down memory lane.
“The cab Jackson sent, picked me up at exactly 7:00, as promised. The man is such a compulsive! It dropped me off at the restaurant. I went in expecting to find Jackson and Harry, his friend, already seated at a table off to one side, having greater privacy. When the maître d' escorted me to their table, my favorite drink was just being set in my place.
“‘I ordered for you… I hope you don't mind,’ he said. I knew he was buttering me up.
“Of course, I didn't. When I'm being wined and dined, I can accept such.
“We shook hands all around, sat down with our drinks in hand, and chatted about days past. All this catching up, merely a warm up for the main event, when the food arrived. Conversation was limited while we ate. The food was superb, the wine expensive, and I was now prepared to hear The Bomb.”
“The Bomb?” repeated Tim, eyes wide, expecting, well, he didn't quite know what.
“The real reason he was here. He'd worked for some black operation sponsored by an organization you'd recognize. They were developing a project into which I'd fit neatly.”
Tim knew to say nothing.
“I listened to his presentation and nodded at all the right places. When he finished, he asked my opinion.
“Lovely,” I told him.
“We'd like you to join us.” he told me, then named a number, a large number, which would be my compensation. Flattered as I was, it seemed too good to be true, and I suspected that might be the situation. So I told him politely that I could not bear to leave the university. The meal ended then, and we drove in Jackson's car to his hotel, where we finished the evening.”
“Finished the evening?” asked Tim with a huge grin. “Is Jackson gay? His friend too?”
“Queer as can be. Been awhile since I'd been in a three way.”
“That was years ago, Jeff,” began Tim; then it hit him. The Bomb!
As though reading Tim's mind, he went on, “Yes. He contacted me a month ago, I agreed to join their group for perhaps a year, then return.”
Tim's body stiffened, “What…?” he was about to ask when Jeff silenced him.
“I'm giving you a special phone with an untraceable number. After you receive my message about Omaha, remember that… Omaha, use the phone to call me. It will link directly to my own special phone.”
Tim's mind returned to the present with him sitting on his bed, alone. About to make a momentous call.
It could go two ways, Jeff is gone for the moment, but will return. The other alternative, one he didn't want to consider…