Date: Wed, 10 Oct 2001 12:19:45 -0400 From: authorpaul@hotmail.com Subject: Turning-The-Page-1 Disclaimer: This story concerns homosexual men and their sexual activities. It was inspired by events that might have happened, but didn't. This tale is entirely fictional. If there are any similarities to actual people, places or events, it is purely coincidental. If you are under 18 or if reading this story would be illegal for you in your area or if you don't like the subject matter, please leave now. Otherwise read on and the author hopes you enjoy it. Furthermore, the country, the legislature and its members, the capitol and River City in a state whose strange name for some reason is Ohio, are complete figments of the author's imagination. All characters described herein are completely fictitious and are not intended to represent any living person. Turning the Page 2001 by Paul H. Daventon. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author. Write to Paul at authorpaul@hotmail.com. TURNING THE PAGE CHAPTER 1 I was exhausted and dazed, my body seemed numbed or floating in air, my heart tearing along at super speed though I didn't seem to be breathing. My body shivered, but I didn't feel cold. I didn't know why this was happening. Then I heard in the distance, "Mikey, Mikey, what's the matter," someone yelled, "Are you all right?" I tried to say I was OK but nothing would come from my throat. Again, "Mikey, did I hurt ya, say somethin', please!" Once more I tried to speak, but could only groan. Slowly my mind seemed to clear, I could open my throat enough to say "I'm OK, Bry. It's all right." "Oh, Mikey, I tho't you died or somethin', you scared the hell out a me. Shit, what went on?" I remembered everything then, and was shocked again to realize I had just cum in my buddy Bry's mouth and he was still holding onto my softening dick. He had just sucked me off, my very first cocksucking. The excitement and thrill of that climax had knocked me out almost. We had been jackoff buddies for a few months then, since we turned 14, but never had tried sucking. This was Bryan's idea, he wanted to try it because he never had before. So, I said OK, if he wanted to, never thinking how I might react. My cum was the greatest ever, a real knock-out. Gradually I regained the movement of my arms and legs, my whole naked body. We were on Bryan's bed in his house while his parents were away. As I sat up, Bryan put his arm around my shoulders, supporting to keep me steady. I looked into his eyes. He sure did look worried. I smiled and patted his arm. "I'm OK now, Bry, but I never felt like that before and I was sure scared. I should be ok in a few minutes. I guess I should thank you for that, it was really like I went into orbit!" Bryan let me go, and started jacking his softened dick, getting it hard again. I rubbed my face and my neck, pushing back my long hair, then straightened my body stretching the tight muscles. He was starting to get all sexed up again. "Ok, Mikey, you can do me now, " he said, watching me closely. Uh-oh. I had never thought of doing it to him. Put his dick in my mouth. No way. Jacking off together is one thing, but sucking my best friend off was completely different. Way too far into that place where I didn't want to go. "Uh, Bry, I don't think I can do it," I said quietly, hoping for the best. He looked at me hard, "Come on, Mikey, I did you. Now you gotta do me." My head bent down, eyes looking at the floor, "I just can't do it, Bry, why don't I jack you off like we usually do." My voice and tone pleaded with him. Didn't work. "Well, damn it, Mikey, you gotta. You's damn gonna do it since I did you. Ya hear?" I reached over to grab his dick, starting to pump it up and down. Bryan stood up suddenly, ripping his dick from my hand. "No, I don't wan' ya to do that. I want sucked. Now!" He walked toward me, prick in hand, headed straight for my mouth. I stood up too, "Bryan, I can't do it, I won't do it and that's it. Let me jack you. OK?" My mind had been running the situation over, and my decision was based on that thinking. I figured that our mutual masturbation was just experimenting like most boys do if the stories going around school are any way the truth. But, cock-sucking was going way into the 'gay' - 'homosexual' area. I didn't want to be branded one of those, positively. If I sucked Bryan, eventually it would get around and I'd be called a cocksucker and worse. "Bryan, I'm sorry. I just can't suck you. That would make me a homo and I don't want to be one." "Oh, since I sucked you off, I'm a fuckin'homo now!," he roared at me. "No, Bryan, of course not. But I don't want to take the chance." My greatest fear was inside myself, that I might LIKE it and want to do it more and more, maybe even with other guys. I was scared to death, absolutely petrified. "Well, you son of a bitch, some friend you are, you git the fuck out of my house. Get out right now! Me and you are done .... that's it, done. Now git out!" He screamed, his face flushed and threatening, his dick still hard like a steel rod, swinging as he yelled at me and stomped around the room. I turned away from him, got dressed quickly, tears running down my face. I didn't want him to know I was crying so I ran down the stairs, out the door and two blocks to my house. We never spoke again. * * * * * * * * Michael Andrew Keith was nearing the end of his first year as a freshman congressman from a district in East Central Ohio when he received a call from the Speaker of the House. His intercom signaled a call from his secretary. Mike finally picked up the chirping phone and responded. "Yes?" Suzanne's cool voice came to his ear, "Speaker Lindenmuth on line two, Congressman. Sounds as if he's in an amiable mood -- he must want something." "OK, thanks, Suzanne," Mike said and poked the blinking button. "Good Morning, Mr. Speaker, what can I do for you?" The smooth, unctuous voice flowed silkily through the wires between their two offices in the Rayburn building. "Well, Mike, good morning to you. I hoped I'd catch you before your committee meeting. I need a very small favor, very tiny, just a very little deal. I'd really appreciate it if you would take part on the Congressional Page Coordinator committee - it's not much. You help oversee the Page Program as a whole. The administrators and teachers do most of the work. The applications from Congressmen for their candidates had to be in by March 30. Once a year you meet with the staff and Mike, it's just to pick the pages for the following year." He paused to let that sink in, then continued, "Now listen, all you have to do right now is pick from all the kids nominated. Actually it's just a matter of getting together on the right number needed by the House, just 72 right now. And approve some of the names on your list. There are always too many applications up for nomination." Again he waited for a moment, "How about it, Mike? Really just a formality, the whole thing." As the Speaker had droned on and on, Mike walked around his office, stopping in front of the long mirror on the closet door. 'Hmmm, not too bad', he thought. Certain segments of Washington society of both genders would seriously consider Rep. Michael Keith a real 'hunk' and maybe even 'stud'. However, he was not actually aware of that in his mind. Never thought about it. His slender body, about 6'1", finely muscled and well-defined, owed nothing to his exercise regimen (which was nonexistent), but owed 99% to the inherited physical characteristics of his ancestors. Mike knew that no matter what he felt about it, he'd have to do as he was asked. As a freshman member of the House of Representatives, he played ball with the leaders of the party and hoped for reelection. Later, well.... "Why surely, Mr. Speaker, I'd gladly to help you out. Just let me know when and where, and I'll be there." "I'll have my secretary send an agenda and meeting time to your secretary tomorrow. I think they're meeting in a few days. OK? Well, good, thanks a lot, see you." As usual, the speaker answered most of his own questions, not waiting for the person questioned come up with his own response. Mike slowly replaced the receiver, thinking of this 'just one more job to do'. Oh hell, maybe it won't take much of his limited time. The young Congressman's mind left the new committee and slid gratefully to consider again the night before. His secretary, Suzanne, had stayed overnight at his apartment and they had enjoyed each other fully. Being a bachelor, being a youthful 28, and being out of the constant scrutiny of the press all helped his love life. He really didn't have to watch his step too closely. But he knew that he shouldn't have made it with his secretary - too close to his daily routine -- too close to home. Now he'd have to get rid of her, gently and kindly. Damn, that's too bad. She sure was good in bed -- she'd handled him just as he liked. He'd swear she must have been trained in a school for courtesans. But she was beautiful with a body that wouldn't quit. After they'd had dinner and saw a show, they got to his apartment about midnight. Even though they hadn't had sex before, there was no fumbling or hesitating. The moment they walked into the bedroom, Suzanne had been all over him, and he liked it. She stripped him herself; shirt and tie, shoes and socks, finally pants and underpants. She stared appreciatively at his quite huge, erect cock and large balls in their wrinkled sack. Behind his desk the young congressman's fingers lightly toyed with his swelling prick, trapped in his briefs and oozing slightly, as he lay back in his swivel chair and reminisced about the night before. Mike lay back on the bed, his legs over the side of the bed and feet on the floor, and watched Suzanne as she stripped herself; dress, hose, panties and bra. Her body was the type he really liked - slim hips and broad shoulders, nice high buttocks and almost flat chest. Her breasts were small and hardly protruded. The nipples were not large, not stretched or swollen- looking. The smaller the better, Mike thought. Watching her strip was a real turn-on to Mike, and at the same time, he watched his prick rise higher and expand even more, pulsing and waving. Mike ogled her naked body, from shoulders to ankles, enjoying what he saw, though he paid little attention to her pubic area. That, for some reason, didn't appeal much to his sexual eye. He hadn't said anything, didn't know how she knew, but somehow she knew just what he liked. The slim-hipped girl grabbed his knees, spread his legs and knelt between them. It seemed that she was paying homage to his priapic monster. Her hands lightly rubbed up and down the drooling cock, spreading slick pre-seminal fluid over the bulging, dark red head. One hand gently cupped the long, full sack of testicles while the other began to jack Mike off. He couldn't help humping his hips, really lifting his buttocks clear of the bed. Suddenly, when his butt again collapsed onto the bed, he found that Suzanne had put one hand under him and one finger slid between his ass cheeks. Before he knew it, that finger had also located his twitching rectum and buried itself into his rectum. Mike put his arms under his head so he could watch Suzanne as her tongue toyed with his cockhead, poking into the slit on the tip, then spreading saliva over the head, letting it drip down the sides where her hand was still pumping on the steel-like organ. His whole body shivered and tingled when the young woman pushed her lips and mouth down over Mike's throbbing penis as it shoved straight up from his crotch, out of the thatch of black, wiry pubic hair. Her sucking and pumping was so good and really very expert. Mike remembered thinking at the time that she must have had a lot of experience at sucking cock. He hadn't had a suck like that since ..... since that time when he and Bryan were in .. ah.. must have been ninth grade. Just kids fooling around. Hmmm. Hadn't heard of Bryan in quite a while, couple years I guess. Last I heard he had been working for a moving company, he'd be good at lifting the heavy weights. He'd been having a hard time keeping jobs, though he'd usually get another soon after being fired. Don't think he's ever married. That's enough of Bryan, won't see him again, I'm sure. Those thoughts left his mind quickly when Mike realized that Suzanne had just about brought him to a climax. Wow, that was quick for him. His experience with women had not been the best in recent years. Guess he was getting too involved with his work. Going to have to take some time off for himself .. recharge his batteries ... go somewhere where he wasn't known at all. Mike reached his hands down to Suzanne's head, "Oh, Suzie, that's great .. so sexy ... " he paused to catch his breath when her teeth grazed his super-sensitive head, "you are the greatest .. Oh ... Oh ... Suzie, hang on, I'm coming!" Mike's body spasmed and his muscles tensed ... his anus tightened convulsively on the finger that was pumping in and out of his now burning asshole. Suzanne looked up into Mike's eyes while her mouth took his long, hard prick far into her mouth until the head slid partly down her throat. That was as far as she could take it down. Hers was not a really deep throat. She could see that he was really turned on by her sucking, and by the finger in his ass. His hands held tightly onto her head, forcing it faster up and down on his cock. She was happy to oblige, she enjoyed it too, though she'd really rather have had his huge cock rammed up her cunt. Oh, well, for some reason she felt he like this better. Pulling her finger from his asshole, Suzanne put that hand between her legs, one finger into her own vagina while she manipulated her clitoris, masturbating herself. At the same time, she also vaguely wondered about Mike and his sexual orientation. Didn't seem very strong to her. In a few moments Mike knew he was coming ... really coming ... he felt the impulse follow a trail from his rectum and between his legs, through his scrotum and balls, finally up the full length of his bursting prick until his whole body contracted and then thrust his whole being out of the slit in his erupting organ and into her mouth. She still sucked and sucked while he shot wad after wad down her throat. While Mike's entire body collapsed on the bed, Suzanne milked his cock into her mouth, then let it flop into his thigh as she slid her body up on his until her face was over his, her mouth on top of his. Suddenly he was shocked to realize that she had collected his cum in her mouth and then let it slide into his mouth. At first he thought he might be sick, he'd never had semen in his mouth. No one had ever done that to him before. But, he didn't get sick, and actually it tasted kind of good, a bit salty, but not bad -- a flat, alkaline flavor. Mike kissed her passionately, almost feverishly and they lay a while pressed together on the bed. Later, they had a couple of drinks and cigarettes, then relaxed. All the while her hands rarely left his body. He did reciprocate and felt her naked body, slim and relatively solid for a girl. He considered their bodies a good match; his was slim and quite muscular, well-defined with white skin and little body hair except the black feathery wisps under his arms, in his crotch and a few hairs around his small, dark red nipples. Her body was well-tanned and very pleasingly filled out. Mike sucked on her nipples while she played with his prick until that organ finally regained its former size. Climbing on top of her, he spread her legs, grabbed his cock and lowered himself to position the head against her cunt lips. With his hands under her buttocks, he shoved with his hips and rammed his throbbing shaft full into her vagina, banging his taut abdomen against her groin. Suzanne wrapped her legs around his full, muscular melons of buttocks, pulled him tightly into her body while he sucked fervently on her small nipples. He worked and worked, at first slowly, then very rapidly. He didn't seem to be making any progress toward his climax. He wasn't even starting to tingle at all. On a sudden inspiration Mike took one of her hands, placed it on the part of his cock outside of her cunt, wrapped her fingers around it. "Hang on tight, Suzie, here we go." With the girl helping Mike reached a climax in a few moments of frantic humping, pounding his sore dick into her, finally shooting his sperm into her love tunnel, collapsing on top of her, gasping for breath. Because her hand was gripping his cock between her legs, she came also from the rubbing of her wrist on her hidden knob. When Mike suggested that he wear a condom, Suzanne said she was well protected and he didn't have to. Suddenly Mike realized he was sitting at his desk, rubbing his dick with both hands down his pants leg. 'Hmm, better think of something else. Better figure how I'm going to get rid of Suzanne. Get her a better job. I know Senator Knowles needs a secretary. That horny bastard will jump at the chance to hire Suzanne, and she'll jump at the job, too.' Standing up, Mike worked his shrunken penis back into the jockey briefs and went back to work, daydreaming over. He looked around his office, very pleased with the posh furnishings, he thought, with the look of big business almost, big desk, wall-to-wall deep blue carpet, some of his favorite paintings on display. He honestly was grateful for his election and hoped to succeed with his pet legislation. The federal government must find a way to provide medical help to the poor people of the nation, those not retired, but who don't have a chance at the 'good' life. They suffer for many reasons, many with low intelligence and thus poor education, inadequate nutrition without the knowledge to correct the problems. His own district in East Central Ohio is not a wealthy one. He hoped to help. It is difficult for a freshman representative to move mountains; let alone be reelected. * * * * The committee room hummed with low conversations since the chairman hadn't called the meeting to order as yet. Mike looked over the files which had been placed before him when he came in. There were ten files, nine boys and one girl. Traditionally, pages had always been boys and Mike thought it should stay that way. Tradition, he thought. Sexist, too, he mused with a smile. As he understood it, he was to pick five out of the ten who would be pages, and one of the five particularly appealed to Mike. Mike randomly picked four of the boys, but the fifth one really took his fancy, name Brian Whitlow. Brian was a junior in high school as were all the applicants, very high scholastically, and very nice looking blond kid. There were a couple pictures in his folder, one in a suit and one as a member of the school swimming team. Mike didn't think much about it, but figured that Brian (damn, thought Mike, the same name as his school buddy from 14 years ago - hadn't heard about him for at least 2 years) was an especially well-qualified candidate. If Brian isn't monopolized by representatives with more seniority than himself, he'd try to give the kid a helping hand around the Capitol. Surprised, he noticed that the boy was already 18 years old. Must have started late. Better check into that. The chairman of the committee kidded Mike when he handed in his list of choices. "What's the matter, Mike, you didn't pick any girls?" Mike winked at him and whispered, "Well, Mr. Chairman, I'm afraid I have all I can handle right now." He grinned and winked again. He knew the chairman had seen Suzanne often, and rightly assumed that Mike was fucking her. * * * * * During the next year in Congress, Mike often saw Brian Whitlow in the chamber of the House of Representatives, distributing materials for the members, sometimes just messages or phone calls. After a couple months he noticed that if he had a message or phone call or special documents to be delivered, the page who did this was Brian Whitlow. He didn't know how Brian had managed the exclusive rights to serve Congressman Keith, but he was always happy to see him. Occasionally, Brian would be required to bring documents or messages to Mike's office. Mike had asked his office personnel to notify him whenever the young man was in the office. He enjoyed talking to him because they had similar interests and he enjoyed the tall blond's humor. They found out that they both like sailing, classical music and camping. Brian said he had taken piano lessons for a while, but had to quit while he was a page as he had to quit most everything he enjoyed. But being a page was a great education and he was enjoying his year. Later he admitted that the end of his time as a page couldn't come soon enough. Suddenly Mike was aware of Brian, his favorite page, standing beside his desk, trying to get his attention. Brian had been working in the House for most of the year by then, and Mike had been very well satisfied with Brian's work. The congressman couldn't use Brian's services often, but paid attention to the young man when he did. Good kid, responsible, does just what he tells him and can think for himself when necessary. And, as Mike had said casually to himself every so often, if you have to look at a page all the time, he might as well be a good-looking one. He finally remembered who Brian reminded him of. It had been bothering him since he had met the young man. It was that actor in the Star Wars movie who played Luke Skywalker. It was .... ah ..., his name was .... oh, yes, Mark Hamill. Not much of an actor, but he sure looked good . . . . . before his accident. Brian was a very handsome young man, with an excellent swimmer's body to go with his good looks. Nice broad shoulders, slim hips, not too tall, but close to six feet. He was almost too good-looking for a boy, but was saved from being 'pretty' by a certain ruggedness on his features. Occasionally Mike had placed his arm around the boy's shoulders, or his hand on the boy's back, and was pleasantly surprised to feel really solid, hard muscles underneath the shirt. He always wore dark trousers, white shirt and tie like all the other pages. But once Mike had absent-mindedly glanced at the boy's pants and thought he must have had them professionally tailored. The fit perfectly, but were rather tight, especially over the buttocks and crotch. "Oh, hi Brian," Mike smiled, "what have I forgotten to do now?" Brian was always reminding him of something he'd forgotten. "Nothing, sir," Brian spoke quietly, "just some papers you have to look over, and these need your signature . . . here and . . . here." When the boy showed Mike the papers, he was leaning over his shoulder and pressed right against Mike. There must have been over twenty documents and letters to sign, so it took a while. Mike was nearing the end of the pile and he realized that Brian was really pushing against him, and he also realized that it was Brian's crotch against his shoulder. The older man didn't realize it, but his prick was getting hard, quite hard in his crotch. He didn't connect the two situations, at least consciously, he didn't. It wasn't until the young man had left with the papers, and he found his right hand rubbing his erected organ, that the glimmering of a thought came to Mike. Why, he thought, why should I have an erection just because some kid pushed up against me. That's crazy. He wasn't turned on by boys or men. He wasn't gay, never had any experiences with men. Well, Mike reconsidered, if I'm going to be truthful with myself, there was Bryan and me in the ninth grade. But that was just kids experimenting, just fooling around. And, it wasn't that often, he told himself, probably not more than ten times in two years. And, hell, all they did was jack off together .... well, except for the time that Bryan had sucked him off. He, Mike, had never done that. That was for real queers. He thought back. His buddy's parents had gone out for the evening, wouldn't be home for three or four hours when Mike and his school friend, Bryan, had reached Bryan's house. They had been to a movie, not very good but risque enough for them to be snickering all the way through. Bryan whispered in the theater, "Wait'll we get home, Mike, I'll show ya shit a lot better than this crap." Bryan's bed was quite soft when Mike lay back on it, watching Bryan root around in the back of one of his bureau drawers. Gee, Mike thought, Bryan is nice, I really like being around him. He's shorter than me, and heavier, and that orange-red hair really stands out, but he looks good. Hmmmm, I guess you'd say we're both built good, but him a little better, I think. His buddy sat beside Mike on the bed, holding a stack of magazines. In a burst of enthusiasm Mike moved right close to Bryan, threw his arm across his friend's shoulder, panting theatrically, "What have we here, old buddy, you've been holding out on me, haven't you." In his exuberance Mike didn't realize the effect he was having on Bryan, didn't notice Bryan's arm go around his waist to hold tightly nor notice Bryan's cock almost immediately push a large tent in the front of his tennis shorts. But, Bryan noticed everything. He'd wanted to get really close to Mike; he knew very well exactly what he wanted. He wanted to be close to his friend sexually and do everything he knew of with him. In his day-dreams he and Mike did everything ... jack each other off, suck each other's cock and eat the cum, and finally fuck each other in the ass (though Bryan hadn't done that before, and wasn't sure just how it would be accomplished.) They sat close, turned the pages of the magazines slowly, staring avidly at the men and women pictured in various postures of sexual intercourse and other sexual acts. Bryan was pleased to see that Mike's cock was also very big and hard under his tennis shorts, pushing against the material until he figured it must be standing straight up from his crotch. Bryan pressed his palm on his own prick, trying unsuccessfully to push it back down, yet at the same time drawing attention to it. He spoke softly, but huskily, "Boy, these pictures are sure turning me on." He seemed to complain, "And damn if I haven't gotten me a big hard-on." His friend Mike barely seemed to realize that Bryan had said anything, but still, "Yeah, I guess I got me one too." Pointedly looking at Mike's crotch, Bryan nodded. "Yeah, I see you do. Boy that looks a lot bigger than mine." He made sure he had Mike's attention, "How big is it, Mike .... hard, I mean." The dark-haired boy seemed to want to avoid talking about it, just mentioning offhandedly, "Hell, I don't know ...never measured it." This was a big fat lie, because Mike knew to the nearest millimeter just how long it really was. Teasing, Bryan said, "Well, just maybe mine is bigger than yours. Could be you know." Bryan's words had the desired effect. Mike just had to prove that his was the bigger. Again, Mike realized he was sitting behind his desk in the House Office Building, Congress of the United States, Washington, D.C., a big smile on his face, another big erection in his suit pants and day-dreams in his head of a time over fourteen years before. He laughed out loud at himself, "Get me, day-dreaming again. What's getting into me. Better get back to work!" He picked up the intercom. "Janet?" "Yes, sir", cam the reply in his ear. "Janet, ah ... did you get my schedule typed for my meetings back home next week?" "Yes, sir. I put them on your desk, under your plane tickets." Mike answered, trying to sound contrite for his stupid question, "Ok, I see them. Thanks. And ... ah ... did you send out the invitations for the party?" "They're finished and just have to be mailed. Is there anything else?", Mike's new secretary responded. Mike considered, "No, not that I can think of." He started to hang up, then asked, "Did I have you send an invitation to our favorite page, Brian Whitlow? I can't remember." "No, sir, you didn't. Shall I type up another one?" "Yes, go ahead ...", the young man started, then changed his mind, "no, I'll see him myself in a few minutes anyway. Fortunately, his term as a page will be over by the party time, therefore no problems with his curfew and Page Residence requirements. So never mind now. Thanks." Mike made a mental note to be sure to ask Brian to his party when he saw him outside the House chamber. Putting on his suit jacket, he left the building to walk the few blocks to the Capitol. He walked whenever the weather was good, get some exercise. Before entering the chamber, the dark and handsome congressman from Ohio stopped to talk to the even more handsome but blond page, Brian Whitlow. Smiling, eagerly attentive, the boy agreed quickly to attend the staff party that Mike was giving after he got back from politicking in the wilds of Ohio in two weeks. "That's great, Brian, we'll all be glad to have you to celebrate with us. That is, just so the news is good news when I get back." The congressman had to convince his backers to raise the money for another campaign, assuming he would be renominated. Mike really was sure that he wouldn't be dropped from the slate. "The party will be at my apartment in Watergate and will be very informal; just for the staff here in Washington. You know, the staff with wives and husbands, and all." He quickly added, "No kids, but you can bring your wife or mistress, whichever you want, Brian", Mike kidded him, laughing. He gave Brian his personal card with the exact address. Brian blushed and laughed, "No, I'm not married. Don't even have a mistress. Guess I'll have to work on that." His face practically matched his hair in brilliance. "Well, bring a girl friend, if you want. I'll see you when I get back from Ohio, but I wanted to give you some warning about the party." "Thank you, sir. I appreciate it." He paused, looking at the floor, then turned toward Mike, "Anything for me to do now?" "Yes, would you write down your home address and phone number on a sheet and give it to my secretary before you leave. Just in case we have a change of plans for some reason." "OK, I'll do it. Anything else?" "No, get back to your studies. I'll see you in a couple of weeks." Mike patted Brian on the shoulder and took his seat in the House chamber. Opening the fancy apartment door, Mike greeted his guests, bowing them into his temporary home, a large apartment in the Watergate complex, urging them to have the bartender mix them anything they would like and be sure to visit the food table. The apartment was quite large and comfortable, well furnished in tones that reminded Mike of a condo in Florida he'd visited once; beige and coral in various tones. Before long, the two large main rooms, usually filled with furniture but now seemed almost empty with only chairs around the walls, were rather crowded with his office staff and their spouses, noisy and smoky, full of congratulations for the freshman congressman. The party leaders back home had asked him to run again and agreed to raise as full a chest of funds as possible to run his campaign. By nine that evening everyone was pretty well lubricated and feeling good, but no one had gone too far yet. Mike himself was coasting smoothly, feeling content and satisfied but also watching out for evidence of drugs. He couldn't afford to allow any of that in his position. Mike had real hopes of moving higher politically and misadventures like that always catch up with you. Answering the door again, Mike was surprised at first to see his young, blond page standing in the doorway, looking neat and handsome but somewhat unsure of himself. Mike had forgotten that he had invited Brian, but after the initial surprise, he grabbed the boy's arm, pulled him into the apartment and happily welcomed him to the party. "Come in, Brian, come in. Glad you could make it. Now I want you to meet everyone. I realize you know all our staff people, but now you get to met all the spouses behind them." Mike loudly whispered to Brian, "Where's your girlfriend ... thought you were going to bring her," he kidded. The fair skin reddened as he blushed, then mumbled about not having one right then. "That's OK, Brian, we're happy to have you. Now meet everyone, then get a drink or two, we don't check ID's here." This seemed to help put the boy at ease, making sure he met everyone. Brian was usually very outgoing and he soon found himself feeling at home and comfortable. Mike circulated freely, making sure to compliment all the women and say something personal to all the men. He had a drink in his hand all the time, but didn't drink much liquor, mostly mix. He'd pass Brian once in a while, give him a friendly pat, say something designed to help him feel at ease. But the boy seemed to be doing just fine on his own, talking easily with all the guests. Of course Mike did notice that the women vied for the privilege of standing near him. They almost pawed the poor kid, although he didn't seem to mind. By 1 A.M. most everyone had left the party except Mike's two closest aides and their wives, his secretary and her husband, his attorney and her husband, Mike and Brian. They were talking casually, moving around the apartment from time to time. Mike was talking to the bartender he'd hired when Brian came up to the bar and asked for another highball. Mike smiled at him. "How many is that, Brian? Can't have you going home polluted." The slim, muscular body swayed against the bar, "Only a couple, sir, not too much," Brian mumbled Sipping the new drink, he seemed to suddenly lose control. He turned ashen, almost a greenish shade, as Mike watch. Mike knew what was happening. The boy would be sick, very sick and very soon. Mike looked around where the few left were quietly talking, and felt he could help the boy without neglecting his hostly duties. "Come on, Brian, let's head for the bathroom, you're going to need it right now." To the rest of the guests he announced loudly, "Sorry, folks, but the young man here has had a little too much. I'll help him get himself straightened out. If you have to go before I get back, thanks for coming, see you on Monday, bright and early." His guests were sympathetic to the situation and to Brian who was well liked. As Mike was leading Brian to the john, they let themselves out. With one arm around Brian's waist, Mike just got him into the bathroom when he could feel the boy's abdominal muscles tighten, then begin heaving. "Come on, boy, hang on, over here by the toilet." He got the lid up and Brian kneeling just in time, as the vomit spewed from his mouth and nose in gush after gush of nauseous fluids. Mike still held him around the waist, one hand on his forehead, brushing his hair back, trying to quiet the tortured body. Brian thought he was finished throwing up so he knelt erectly to ease his back. Unfortunately, there was more vomit to come, and come it did, all down the boy's shirt and pants. It came so suddenly, before Mike could get him bent over the toilet again. He kept heaving, dry heaving, practically tearing his guts out while the older man held his head and rubbed his back, trying to ease his discomfort. After flushing the john, Mike had him lean on the toilet rim, telling him not to move, and stood up to see how his guests were doing. He felt a strange tautness in his pants and looked down to realize that he had a huge hard-on, a solid, strong one. Puzzled, he frowned, not understanding, and pushed his hardened penis down to be less noticeable so he could walk into the living room. Everyone had gone, he saw, except for the bartender who smiled sympathetically, "How's the boy?" Mike grinned in return. "Probably won't feel good tomorrow, but he'll recover fast, I'm sure. You can go home now; your envelope is there on the ledge. Thanks for all your help." "OK, I've got everything cleaned up. See you again sometime." "So long", and Mike turned back to the bathroom. He found Brian sitting by the toilet, a bit dazed but with somewhat better color. However, he did smell bad, especially from his clothes which had gotten hit with quite a bit of puke. "Well", Mike thought out loud, "what are we going to do with you, my boy. We've got to get you presentable enough to go home." Brian's bleary eyes met the older man's, "Oh, it's OK, my father is away for the weekend." He slurred his words almost to the point of mumbling, "If you'd help me get there, he'll never know .... he'll nev ... nev ... ". The tired and sick young man gave up trying to speak and seemed to go to sleep. Brushing Brian's hair back from his forehead, Mike took a wet washcloth and cleaned his face and neck. He tried to wake the boy, but he only groaned and tried to fend Mike off, seemingly in his sleep. The darker older man decided he'd have to get the clothes off him and put him to bed. 'Don't think I could manage to get him into the shower. That will have to wait until morning.' Gently Mike slid the boy to lie on the tile floor. He unbuttoned the plaid shirt and worked it off the muscular arms and strong shoulders, putting it under his head to cushion it. With his shoes and socks off, Mike opened the belt and zipper of his pants, then grabbed the cuff of each leg to pull the pants all the way off. He succeeded but also at the same time, accidentally pulled the kid's white jockey briefs along with the jeans. With his briefs around his knees Brian was for all practical purposes, naked. His employer, kneeling over the boy's feet, couldn't help staring at the strong, muscular body, so well defined, so young and vibrant. He automatically focused his attention on the genitals, very light brown pubic hair, a long circumcised penis lying flaccid over a remarkably full scrotum. Beautiful, Mike mused, beautiful. Suddenly, he shook himself, stood up and filled the basin with soap and hot water. After emptying the pockets, he put all Brian's clothes in the basic to soak overnight, including his briefs which actually hadn't been hit with vomit. Probably stink a bit anyway, Mike thought. He got one arm under the blond's shoulders, and one behind his knees, lifted and easily carried him into the guest bedroom. Before he covered the naked boy with the sheet, Mike sat on the edge of the bed and just looked at him, at the most beautiful young body he'd ever seen, male or female. It took a while for Mike to realize what he was doing, and to acknowledge the fact that he was sitting here, staring at a nude young man in his guest bedroom and wishing ... wishing ... what was he wishing? He didn't know, unless it was wishing to know exactly what he was going to do with the humongous erection that was ready to burst through his pants. Brian turned onto his side in his stupor; his flaccid penis and long, swollen scrotum flopped across his left thigh. In sleep his long, narrow face took on an innocent and even more youthful appearance ... his blue eyes, deep in his skull, were closed but Mike remembered their brilliance ... long dark lashes curled lightly against his cheek ... moist, red lips slightly apart, almost smiling ... pert, sharp nose, peeling just a bit. Regretfully, Mike pulled up the sheet and covered the long, muscular legs, the smooth, rounded buttocks, flat, ridged abdomen and the full, defined chest with two dime-sized nipples with pointed tips. Turning off the light, Mike leaned against the door frame, looking wistfully at the long, slender form under the sheet, following the shadows and highlights on the bed. Mike wrestled in his mind, 'Why am I so interested in this young boy ... what is there about him that attracts me so much .... why do I get such a quick, huge boner whenever I touch him ... '. His hand moved to his crotch where the erection needed rubbing and some TLC. He couldn't answer his own questions, but he was able to get undressed, slide naked between his own sheets and masturbate his long thick cock to a thunderous climax. Semen pumped in spasmodic spurts over his chest and stomach, clots and strings of sperm that he rubbed into his skin. Sleep came quickly after his body relaxed and his doubts faded. The morning heat of the sun was spread over Mike's bed and woke him early. Putting a short, light robe on, he opened the apartment door to get the morning paper. It felt better today for some reason that he was naked under the robe, and somewhat tumescent, too. He seemed to be changing, but he didn't know how, or what or why. Figuring correctly that Brian would sleep very late, Mike quietly made his breakfast, ate it and read the paper out on his balcony; also enjoying the breezes on his bare legs and ass and crotch. It was almost eleven before he decided to look in on the hung-over boy. As Mike looked in the guest bedroom, he stumbled against the door, banging it into the wall. The sudden noise woke Brian and when he opened his eyes and sat up, he couldn't help groaning from the pain pressing on his skull. Mike walked further in the room and smiled, "Sorry, Brian, I woke you up. How do you feel? I expect you have a pounding head and mouth that tastes like the bottom of a bird cage." The slender boy sat up with the sheet gathered at his waist, "Wow, what a head. You are right. Boy, I've never felt this bad. What was in those drinks I had?" "Nothing special, Brian, but probably just too many for you. Sorry about that. I should have realized that you probably weren't ready for all that booze." He shook his head carefully, "No, it's my fault, I've never had much to drink. I should have stopped much sooner, but I was having such a good time." He held his head in his hands, "Oh, shit, this head is killing me." "Hold on, Brian. I'll get you something for that. Now just lay back, and rest quietly. I'll be right back." Brian did just that. "I'm sorry I've been so much trouble. Thanks for begin so nice to a stupid kid." Mike smiled and turned toward the door. "It's not hard to be nice to a 'stupid' kid ... but you're neither dumb or a kid - not with that mind you've got and that body you've got." As he said that, Mike went down the hall to the kitchen, wondering just why he said that. He did have a great body, but why did that make any difference. Not knowing why, he just shook his head, got some aspirin and tea he'd already brewed and went back to sit beside Brian on the bed. "OK, Brian, open those eyes and sit up. I've got some aspirin and hot tea. These should help. Come on, sit up." The slim boy groaned and slowly rose to a sitting position, leaning on his arms. Mike put an arm around the boy's shoulders, gripping the naked flesh tightly, holding him erect. Slowly, Brian raised one hand to hold the aspirin, placed it on his tongue and took a sip of tea. "Mmmm. That tastes good. Thanks, Mr. Keith. I do appreciate what you're doing for me. You are the greatest." "That's OK, Brian," he squeezed the shoulders, "but since we're just here by ourselves, why don't you call me Mike. You know, just when we're not in the office.: "OK, uh ... Mike, I'll watch it. But you know, I don't think ... think .. ah I think," Brian was turning green again, "I think I'm going to be sick." Mike jumped up and carefully put the cup on the nightstand before Brian dropped it. "Oh, jeez, come on, Brian, let's get you to the bathroom quick." Mike lifted the boy from under his arms and got him standing, forgetting he was naked. Brian didn't notice, but the older man sure did. He couldn't get his eyes off the slim, tannish penis that wagged from thigh to thigh as they hurried to the bathroom. He also didn't realize that his short robe didn't conceal his own organ anymore, since it was now getting long and escaping from the folds of the silky robe. Mike did notice that Brian's abdomen was starting to heave and his throat was working as he swallowed furiously, trying not to throw up. By practically running Mike got Brian's head over the toilet as the vomit surged from his stomach and spilled from his mouth and nose. To Brian it wasn't a pleasant experience, in fact only the second time the boy had ever thrown up, but subconsciously he knew Mike's arm was around his waist and one hand holding his forehead and he was comforted ... more comforted even that if his own father was helping him. And not at all as embarrassing. Brian didn't puke as much as he had the night before, in fact there wasn't much to come up. Mike was kneeling beside him, speaking softly and gently rubbing his muscular back, down the ridges on either side of his spine, and up the sides, rubbing gently but firmly. He started to rub lower and lower, until the next move would be onto the boy's solid, full buttocks. They really just cried out for rubbing but even though it entered his head to do it, Mike dismissed the notion immediately. What in hell would he want to rub a boy's buttock for? Just why? Mike reached over to get a washcloth to clean him up with and as he turned back, he saw that Brian had straightened, still on his knees. Obviously he didn't realize that his cock stuck out hard and rigid from his crotch, throbbing slowly up and down. Handing the boy the cloth, telling him to wash his face, Mike raced to his bedroom for another robe (practically a twin of the one Mike had on) and got back to the bathroom before Brian knew he was gone. He threw the short robe over the youngster's shoulders and wrapped it around him. Brian stood patiently while Mike washed his neck and chest where he had sprayed himself. "Your clothes are soaking now, but they'll be ready later today. Right now I'd suggest that you get back in bed and sleep some more. I didn't have anything planned for today, and I sure hope you didn't. Didn't have a date, did you?" Even though he wasn't feeling very well, but did manage a tight smile, "No, I wasn't going to do anything, and I don't have a girl. I haven't really had many dates, either, but please don't tell anyone." "No, I sure wouldn't. What about your parents? Won't they be wondering where you are?" The smile disappeared. "There is only my father. My mother died about five years ago - cancer. Dad wouldn't care where I ... well, he's away for the weekend. I'm on my own." "Well, son, you've just found a second home. You're welcome here anytime." Mike had figured from the way Brian spoke that he didn't feel good at his own home. By that time he had the young blond settled in bed and practically asleep before he left the room. 'Damn', Mike thought to himself, 'I must be horny as hell.' He walked to the kitchen and got a cup of hot coffee. 'I'd better get me a piece of ass fast or I'll be sprouting a hard-on all over the place here. Wonder if Suzanne would ... ah, no, now that she's a senator's secretary she wouldn't put out for a little congressman.' When he sat on the couch, his robe pulled apart and he looked down at his exposed genitals, still slightly aroused. Casually, he fingered his cock and balls. 'Yes, I'll just have to make a call or two. You need some action, old hot rod. Maybe I can get the kid home this afternoon, and get Donna or Sheila over here tonight.' Mike started to read the morning paper. Not much in a Saturday morning edition; just a rehash of the previous night's news. Looking at his watch, he noticed that it was almost 1 p.m. He had been going to lay out by the apartment pool, get some sun, maybe even swim a little. Deciding he was still going to do it, Mike got a bikini suit out of his bedroom bureau and worked it over his hips. His slim, tight body looked great in a speedo-type suit - especially the narrow hips and full, muscular buttocks, firm and tight. Having just settled back on the couch, concentrating on the newspaper again, Mike was startled to hear what sounded like sobbing coming from the bedroom. He tried to decide what to do, just ignore what he heard or do something about it, He really didn't want to get more involved with the mixed-up kid who seemed to really have problems at home. From a couple of things Brian had said, his father doesn't give a damn about him. What could Mike do? He wasn't a family counselor. And he had his own work. The tall congressman stood up and paced the living room floor. Rubbing his forehead, he tried to make up his mind what to do. After one glance at the piles of work on his desk, he knew there was no other way right now. He would ignore the sniffling and sobbing. When he sat behind his loaded desk, Mike realized that the sounds had already stopped. 'Well, that was good', he thought, 'now I can get some work done. But guess there'll be no relaxing by the pool either'. His arms reaching, he stretched, arching his back. A glance at his watch told him he'd been working for more than two hours. 'No wonder I'm stiff. I think I'll check on Brian; maybe I can take him home now.' The older man peered around the corner, not particularly trying to wake the boy up, but he must have made enough noise to do it. Brian smiled as Mike stood beside his bed, "Hi," he looked around, "how long have I been asleep?" He sat up, put his legs over the side of the bed, his feet on the floor. The robe Mike had given him was still on him, but certainly didn't cover everything. And the boy realized it. He quickly pulled it closed, but not before the dark-haired man felt himself begin to respond from seeing a good bit of the kid's slim, naked body. Mike thought to himself, 'That kid has got to go home.' He smiled and said aloud, "Well I was beginning to wonder if you were going to get up before Tuesday week. How are you feeling?" He groaned, "I think I'll live, but I don't ever want to go through that again." He looked around and spotted a clock, "Hey, I've got to get going. It's late, and I've got to ... ah .. got to .. go ... home " He hesitated, "Ah ... where are my clothes?" Mike started out the door, "They should be dry by now, I washed your stuff this morning. I'll get them." Throwing the clothes into the boy's hands, he headed for his own bedroom, "Hop into your clothes and I'll run you home. My car needs to be run once in a while anyway. I'll get some clothes on myself." Brian directed his host and friend to his home, a large, suburban house, which actually should be considered a mansion. They pulled into the circular drive and stopped in front of the huge, red brick 'shack'. Mike noticed that the boy did not look happy, did not seem to want to leave the car. "Ah, Brian, I'm glad you came to the party last night, I hope you are." The boy finally smiled, "In spite of everything, I'm sure glad I did, Mr. ... ah .. Mike. I appreciate that you invited me. Mostly, I had a great time." He opened the car door, shut it after he climbed out, and leaned in the window, looking somber again. "I'll see you later." He turned toward his house. "Ah, wait, Brian ... ah ...." Mike felt a bit guilty and also sorry for the boy. What could I do for him? I know! "How about coming over to the condo tomorrow, oh, about noon. I'll treat you to some lunch and we'll sun by the pool, maybe even swim for a bit. What do you say? Did you have something else planned?" Brian frowned, thinking, it seemed, "No, that would be great," he really smiled, "and no I don't have anything else to do. Thanks a lot." He practically jumped up and down in his eagerness. "I'll see you about noon." "Oh, make it 12:30, Brian," Mike quickly interjected, "I've got some things to do in the morning and won't get back before then. OK? "Great! I'll be there. Thanks." Brian walked swiftly into his house to be met by his keeper and friend, "My, my, young Brian, " Adam said sarcastically, "you look a little worse for the wear. I figured when you didn't show up last night that you were safe or you would have called, but I sure would have appreciated a call." "Sorry, Adam, I wasn't in any condition to call last night." He looked down, embarrassed, "All right, all right, I had too much to drink, I got sick and Mike ... ah ...Congressman Keith took care of me. He's really nice and cleaned me up after I got sick, washed my clothes since I puked all over them and let me sleep so that I could function enough to get home. Sorry, Adam," Adam smiled softly, concerned. "I'm sorry you got sick. But you hardly ever drink, my boy, rarely. What happened last night?" "Adam, the party was so much fun. The others on his staff and their wives and husbands were so friendly to me. I just lost track of how much I drank until it was too late. He was so great, took care of me and didn't get mad that I threw up in his bathroom. He's friendly, funny and damned good looking. I'd really like to be his friend, spend time with him. "Of course, but shouldn't I meet him?" "You will, soon enough. I'll bet that in the last five months I've been the only page to do anything for him. That took a lot of planning for me, trying to be assigned errands for him; keeping the others away from him. After a while, everyone knew what I wanted and since no one else wanted his patronage, I lucked out. He smiled broadly and hugged Adam. "Adam, you are my best friend, but I still want him as my friend. Can you understand?" Adam hugged Brian back affectionately, "Yes, my boy, I understand and you're my friend too but you need more than that. You need someone just your own." he thought a moment. "When are you going to see him next.?" "You're going to take me to his apartment tomorrow about noon where I'm having breakfast, swimming and dinner out, the works. He is so great." That night Brian had trouble getting to sleep, thinking about Mike and how he would see him tomorrow, be around him almost all day, hoping they could really be friends. But his stomach gnawed at him, his muscles were tense, and he hoped the next day would be good for him. He had to admit to himself that he was scared that he would screw up; he would never forgive himself if he did.