Date: Thu, 01 Aug 2002 02:47:12 +0000 From: Java Biscuit Subject: Free to Good Home, chapter 12 This is a futuristic fantasy involving inter generational male/male graphic sex and it's not intended for reading by minors. If you are underage, or this type of material is illegal where you live, please stop now, and go read something else! Feedback, always appreciated, to: javabiscuit@hotmail.com Free to Good Home ~ chapter twelve by Biscuit It's not like I'd never done it in front of people before. I'd gone into dimly lit back rooms and closed my eyes, mentally at least, to the people around me. But it wasn't the back room of a club, it was Rory's living room. I wasn't drunk or surrounded by strangers I never had to see again, or could pretend not to recognize if I did. At first it almost seemed like we were alone even though I knew we weren't. I could hear voices from the kitchen drifting closer and sounds, unmistakable sounds from nearby on the couch. Soft laughter and the wet sounds of sucking and kissing. I thought I heard Sashi laugh. But lying on my back I couldn't see anyone, not really. And I only wanted to see Tiger whose knees were planted on either side of me. He was riding me like we could get somewhere -- and I wanted to. Get there and then get the hell out of there. Then the light changed. The darkness was lit by shades of blue that deepened to purple. Spectrum lighting. Usually I was long gone by the time Rory started playing with colors. First he'd dim the living room when our meeting broke up. A little while later he'd key up some music, almost always the tonal stuff he loved. To me it just sounded like notes struck for so long I couldn't keep track of them. The last thing he did to signal the shift in mood was play with the spectrum fixture. The few times I'd watched him cast the room in colors I'd felt the urge to stay, like a show was about to start and I was going to miss it. Now I felt like Tiger and I were center stage. My boybot had turned into a little blue angel rocking on my hips with a patch of magenta coloring his shoulder. A wash of music rose up around us. The threat of panic prickled along the back of my neck but didn't break over me. Tiger was stroking his cock and his deep blue eyes were fixed on me, unearthly in that light. His opened suit had fallen off his shoulders and he'd shrugged it off, leaving only his legs loosely wrapped in cloth. I held on to his narrow hips, watching and feeling him move up and down my dick; trying to focus only on him. It worked until Rory appeared by the side of the chair, naked, shimmering with blue highlights, his tattooed dick swaying over his equally tattooed balls. I knew he'd had his cock done. He'd tried to talk me into getting mine done at the same time. No fucking way. People always say it doesn't really hurt but I don't believe it. Plus, what if I hated it afterwards. I wouldn't even be able to take a piss without seeing it. I also knew that Rory used inhibitors to suppress his body hair. Knowing these things about him was a whole lot different from seeing him naked. His smooth skin was glowing and his tattooed dick, wreathed in vines that flowered on his balls, was semi hard. Bigger than I expected it to be. I don't know why I thought his cock would be small. Following the pattern with my eyes I got a hot charge thinking about the part of the tattoo that I couldn't see, the part he'd told me traveled up between the cheeks of his ass. Rory's arms were crossed under his tits. Oh Jesus. Rory's tits. I'd only been wondering about them since the day I met him. I knew the story of how he'd been dragged to a clinic when he was a scrawny kid of fourteen. His dad had decided he was a "pussy boy" and needed a pair of tits. In Rory's family there wasn't enough money to even think about women. 'Best way to get a real man is with a pair of tits,' was his dad's motto. Now I was seeing them. I don't think those little swells on his chest had anything to do with Rory finding his husbands. The tattoo either. It occurred to me that night that Rory having his dick done was another kind of enhancement, that he would never think his own body, just by itself, was good enough. But he was wrong. He was beautiful. With or without those extras. His hair was hanging loose, the dark red almost purple in that light. My eyes reached his face and I was shocked to see him looking pissed at me, like I'd done something wrong. What had I done? Did he think he could walk up to me like that and I wouldn't look at him? "Maybe you are a big old yang, after all, farmboy," he said. I swear that if Tiger hadn't been steadily stroking me, my dick and the rest of me would have wilted under that gaze. But Tiger was stroking me, and I didn't wilt. I didn't know why Rory was mad at me but I couldn't bear it. "Jesus," I pleaded with him. "Couldn't you just kiss me or something." -------------------------------- Blessed be my Creator. Blessed be my human companion. I am blessed to serve Toby. My speculations concerning Rory Callahan were borne out. The logic of my observations proved reliable but the limits of conjecture were graphically demonstrated. Rory did suffer from thwarted desire for Toby. But not to be fucked by him. I wasn't destined to see my human mount the pale backside as I'd envisioned. What happened was much more astonishing; an event I didn't foresee. Toby's humanity outstripped all my conjecture. He was soothing every hurt of my crisis of wrong doing. His blessed cock was the axis of my body. That he could be everything to me and in the same moment reach out to his troubled friend filled me with awe; as if I were seeing the many armed goddess, Lakshmi, come to life before my eyes, scattering riches. Rory approached us, beautifully naked. He was as slender as my beloved was but willowy where Toby presented an upright firm posture which maximized his modest height, his sleek shape and the firm jut of his blessed backside. Toby's eyes roamed over Rory's body with due respect for every attractive feature. It was perplexing that this admiration gave Rory no pleasure. I was afraid for Toby when I saw the anger in Rory's eyes. Baffling, disturbing. I suppressed my fear, centering myself on maintaining Toby's erection inside me. I used brief applications of suction and vibration and his body responded perfectly. His hips thrust gently upward even as he suffered the unkind expression on his friend's face and a barbed comment concerning his yang nature. Toby demonstrated the ability of the human mind to leap into unknown, intuitive realms. A bot can only observe and treasure this. His brave plea to be kissed was an action I could not have conjectured if I had applied myself forever to speculation. It thrilled me even though I was afraid he would be painfully rejected. Success! Rory's surprised smile was stunning. I was so moved that my physical pleasure intensified unexpectedly and I veered dangerously close to showering my beloved with elixir. Rory hung over the arm of the chair and kissed him passionately, his hand moving inside the open front of Toby's clothes. I knew all restraint could be lifted and I reveled in sensation. Toby's fingers closed tight on my hips and his thrusts became arrhythmic, a sure indication that the climax about to grip him would be profound. I praised the Creator and blessed Rory Callahan for my companion's deep release. Multiple spurts of his blessed sperm struck my lining and with extreme pleasure I ejaculated my pent up elixir. It showered my beloved like blue rain. --------------------- I came so hard I couldn't move. I couldn't think, let alone panic. I remember it being an effort to close my mouth. Tiger and Rory fussed over me gently, getting me out of my clothes. One of them, Rory I think, washed Tiger's cum off my chest and my face. My boybot had sent a spray of blue pearls through the air. In the grip of my own bone shattering spasms, I thought it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in my life. Through half opened eyes, I saw the light had shifted to deep sea greens and blues splashed with gold. Since he'd kissed me there wasn't a shred of impatience, not even a hint of tension in Rory's attitude toward me. The first time in all the time I'd known him. He was stretched out along my side with his hard cock touching my thigh, pressing lightly without making me feel like I had to do a damn thing about it. He was playing with mine gently, ruffling up my pubic hair. I guess he still liked it on others, if not on himself. I'd never seen him more relaxed, his expression sweeter. The kissing had been better than good. Better than some people's fucking. When I'd asked him to kiss me it was desperation. I'd wanted him to touch me, to stop being mad at me. I'd had no idea it would feel so good, be so hot. But it was. Like the last straw added to the bliss of Tiger fucking me. Between the two of them I was gazing from one pair of limpid eyes to another; they were looking at me like I was some rare beautiful creature. I was eating it up. It didn't even bother me when Joey walked up to us, his arm around a guy I didn't know who was small and kind of pretty; a dark-haired boy endowed with the big breasts Rory's dad had probably hoped to see on him. Joey reached down to tug Rory's hair. "Enjoying yourselves?" he asked. "Do the words 'go away' mean anything to you?" Rory said. He turned his head around to give Joey a look that I knew without even having to see it. The abrupt shift in his energy startled me. Tiger too went on alert, looking from one to the other of them. "Calm down, pumpkin," Joey said. "We're not staying." I thought he was pretty brave to touch Rory again, stroking his hair before casually walking away with his friend in tow. But Rory just closed his eyes as Joey touched him. He opened them again slowly when Joey was gone. "Ignore him," he said to me. "He won't bother us. I promise." He pet Tiger, stroking his cheek, and snuggled closer to me, like he needed to reassure us. Odd. Very odd for Rory to be so protective. That's when it dawned on me that Joey was the first person who'd come near us other than Rory; like we were on our own private little island. Had Rory actually warned people to say away? "Did you tell everybody to leave us alone?" I asked him. I saw the first hint of annoyance at me since he'd kissed me. "Is there someone you wanted?" he asked. And then I knew. Rory wanted me to himself. It stunned me. At the same time made me feel really, really good, like I'd won a prize in a contest I didn't even know I'd entered. I shook my head, feeling a smile come over me. I couldn't hold it back. Rory Callahan wanted me. For himself. Not for some group sex scene, not so he could see Joey prove to me how yin I really was. He wanted me for himself. His face was becoming sweet again as I gazed at him. "What are you smiling about?" he said. "You like me," I said. "You like me a lot." "You just figured that out?" I felt Tiger relax and lay his head back down on my chest as Rory moved in to kiss me. He was licking behind my lips and his hand was getting deeper between my legs, sliding under my balls. It's going to be in my ass in a minute, I thought, and then it was. He was pressing his fingertip against my hole as his tongue moved slowly through my lips. His dick rubbed more firmly against my leg. Oh ... God. My best friend, the guy I would have voted least likely to ever want to fuck anybody on the face of the earth, wanted to put his tattooed dick up my ass. My body went tense but I didn't pull away from him. It's just that whole sections of mental scenery were rearranging, entire episodes of the history of our friendship were shifting in my brain. How often had Rory raged at what he called my sexual confusion. Denying my yin, he said. I'd thought it was because he wanted me to be more like him. It wasn't. He just plain fucking wanted me. My heart beating harder, I stroked his tongue with mine and felt the pit of my stomach get weak with something like longing and something like an ache of vulnerability. I'd only done it a couple of times since Sam and it hadn't been good. That's why I stopped. Too intimate, too painful, to hard to escape from afterwards. There was no one I'd been close enough to for me even to consider it. But I was considering it then as Rory was slowly getting his finger deeper inside me. "It made me so mad," he said softly, "when you looked at me like Joey does. Like Dane." He sighed against the side of my face and brushed my cheek with his lips. "I want to fuck you." Oh God, I thought, can I do this? I wanted to. I felt like he was giving me something as well as asking for something. A chance to trust him. I could see him differently. I never really bought into the whole yin/yang view of men anyway. Maybe it did apply to guys who would have been with a woman if they could. Maybe it wasn't really true of anyone. Not completely anyway. Tiger always claimed that a boybot feels no jealousy. I never contradicted him because it seemed cruel to point out the ways he was different from the bots he called his brothers. But if it wasn't jealousy that made him insinuate his pretty face between mine and Rory's, it was a pretty good imitation. "Let me assist, beloved," he pleaded in raspy whisper. I was afraid that Rory would snap at him, but he didn't. "You," he said, "can be my assistant fucker." And I saw my boybot's eyes shine. Rory grinned and told him, "You're in charge of his dick." The light was turning amber, like dark honey around us when I stretched out on my stomach to entrust my nearly virgin ass to my best friend and my boybot. I had little experience, and Rory had none. With the two of them working on me I was more ready than a cat in heat by the time Rory gave me his cherry. It was good. What I remember best from the blur of pleasure is how many people were around us at the end. Never, never could I have imagined myself on my back with my legs in the air, surrounded by people I knew who were watching me get fucked in the ass and me not freaking out of my gourd. But there I was. We'd dropped the footrest part of the chair down and my butt was nearly over the edge. Rory was kneeling on a cushion on the floor with my legs on his shoulders. His cock, with its vines and leaves, looked like a living branch of golden wood in that light. Rory's husbands couldn't stay away. They flanked him, kissing him, stroking him, and I found it very moving as well as arousing to see. Rory was exultant, his green eyes fiery. He kept looking down like he wanted to memorize the sight of his dick moving in my ass. Gio and Sashi drew close to watch. I looked up at one point and saw Carroll sitting by my shoulder. He was stroking my hair. By then I was beyond surprise or distress, between Rory's dick laying claim to my ass and Tiger laying claim to my cock there was nothing that could phase me. Tiger had folded himself up and mounted me like a little frog. He couldn't get it all in him, but there were more than enough inches clamped in his hot body to render me brain dead. I can't believe I had a drop left in me after fucking him twice that night, but whatever I had he wrung out of me. It was close to three in the morning by the time we left. Rory insisted on sending us home in a taxi. I didn't argue. I didn't exactly feel like facing the train but I wanted to see my home and my bed. The two seater was waiting for us at the curb when we got to the street. It was an extravagance and I was grateful. I didn't even have to key the address since he'd ordered it up for us. Nothing to do but settle into the warmth with Tiger. I was never even in a ground car until I moved to the city. At home no one had them, they weren't fast enough. Air cars were all you ever saw in those open spaces. In the city air cars were severely restricted. Not enough air space, Rory told me. You had to be very rich, or very important to rate the use of one. A lot of people had their own ground cars. I didn't see the point. Not when the train was so easy and cheap. Still, on a night like that it was a luxury to be alone and warm with Tiger, to watch the street scene roll by as it carried us home, just like the old days when people drove themselves. Scary to think about what that must have been like. But not too scary with Tiger snuggled in my arms. Rory had told me it was a myth that you were on camera in a taxi. If it's true that you were, then someone, somewhere, saw Tiger kissing me. It was the reverse, in a way, of the scene we'd played out earlier that night, at the end of the writer's group meeting. "I'm so proud of you, Toby," Tiger said. I confess I felt pretty pleased with myself; Rory's good bye kiss still warm in my memory, and Tiger's tender lips caressing the side of my face. Almost home, safe and sound on a night that had terrified me in anticipation. I'm such a fool, I thought, eyes nearly shutting as I enjoyed his attention. It was even sweeter for knowing the rest of the weekend lay ahead. "You were so brave and the fuck was so beautiful," he said. I was about to say I wasn't brave when I saw what looked like the silhouette of a man climbing the stairs to the condo. A very tall man with very broad shoulders disappearing into the shadows of the entrance. "What?" Tiger said, feeling me tense as the ground car pulled up to the curb. The door slid open. "There's somebody there," I said, holding on to him, trying to keep him in the car. The signal to get out started as a soft beeping but in thirty seconds would start getting louder, with a prompt for further directions and a credit slip. If I'd been alone I'd probably have stayed in that car until its alarm went off. But Tiger was out the door, unafraid, and I scrambled out after him.