Date: Sun, 12 Apr 2009 21:17:58 -0700 (PDT) From: Master Terra D Subject: submission - Home for Teenagers, part 7; under Adult/Youth Home for Teenagers part 7 Champions. The team had won, and I was getting ready for a final party. I'd told everyone in the house this would be the final party for at least a month. We'd had a party at least once a week for the last five weeks. Three orgies. Randall and I were the chaperones. Trevor Allen was spending a night or two each week at the house. His parents had paid a visit to find out exactly what was going on. While everyone else who'd paid a visit was out, it turns out Trevor wasn't out to his parents, or anyone but those who'd been involved at the school. Trevor even had a girlfriend. I'm a pretty good actor, so I don't think his parents read anything on my face, but he had to know I was pissed. Trevor Allen was 6-foot tall, defined, with trimmed hairs on his chest, then a pencil thin trail down to his pubes, trimmed to a triangle. Seven inches protruded from there. After his parents left, Trevor and I had a talk. I hadn't lied to his parents, but obviously, they weren't aware of everything Trevor did when here. "You have to tell them, Trevor. I'm not going to have some irate parent come screaming into my home when they find out I'm banging their baby boy," I shouted. The conversation hadn't gone well. I was shouting and he was defensive. "Why is what I do with sex anyone's business?" "Because you're not telling the truth about it," I said. "You have a girlfriend." "I'm bi." "Does she know that?" "No. Why would she need to know that?" "Trevor, while the number of guys you're with any given week doesn't make me blink, and I don't know how many girls, she may not appreciate that," I explained. "This is bogus. You want to keep fucking me or not?" "Not. Don't come back until you can deal with yourself." "Fuck you!" he shouted, grabbed his coat and slammed the door, leaving. I had a headache. I'm surprised I hadn't had more since the four guys had moved into my house in the last few months. I was surprised I hadn't gone insane. I'd tried to hold it together, but now, now I was a little perturbed. I'd mentioned Joe was a weekly visitor to my bed, but it'd never gone beyond traded blow jobs. Joe was almost mechanical. Even Paul commented how stiff Joe seemed to be with technique. Joe was chiseled, square jaw, jet black hair, kind of Tom Selleck-Pierce Bronson-Tom Cruise all rolled into one, standing 6'2"; muscled from weights; dark hair from head to toe. He was clearly smitten with Paul, but knew Paul wasn't going to pop his cherry. I'd made that clear. While Joe was a long-term guest, Paul was more a dutiful pet, at my command. Earlier this week, Joe had plowed Paul's ass for the first time. While Paul enjoyed Joe's rather large dick, he had clearly not enjoyed the fuck. Things weren't good in the Marcus and Oscar bedroom suddenly either. Marcus had asked to move downstairs a few days earlier. I told him to give it a few days. He had, and Oscar was the one asking if Marcus could move now. That I was now stressed out from my confrontation with Trevor did not help the atmosphere in the household. The whole feeling of despair and unhappiness permeated the house, totally negating the joy of the team's win. Oscar took a gig the night of the victory party, and Paul said he'd be out of town. Marcus uninvited Trevor, which wasn't too big of a deal; Trevor wasn't a team member. Rachel and the other mothers descended on the house a few hours prior to the party. "Do you still have that platter?" Rachel asked, her opening line as she entered. "Yes. Did you find out who it belonged to?" "No, but if you set it out, someone's bound to claim it." I gave her an unwarranted look. "Someone's not getting any," she scolded. "Sorry. Everything is not well." "Finally!" She said it loud enough that every head turned. I pulled her into the hall, under the stairs. "What's that mean?" "I knew it couldn't possibly be perfect, and finally, it isn't!" "You sound happy..." "Sorry, but your perfect life is irritating to me, Wilson," she pouted, but smiled. "It's never been perfect. First off, I can't afford anything. My `guests' are paying their own ways. Second, I'm not exactly in anything resembling a stable relationship." "I'm sorry, Wilson. Oscar and Marcus' break-up is all over school, and half the town." "They're in separate rooms. Not like I can put them in different houses," I said. "There's another bedroom in this mansion?" she replied sarcastically. "You know there is. And this is not a mansion. It's an old farmhouse. Constant upkeep." "Well, you have a party in a few hours, so wear a smile. Then enjoy the `boy-gy'," she giggled. I gave her a look. "Don't worry. You're not doing anything illegal, and you are keeping them off the streets." "Funny." "Oh, there's someone I invited to the party," she started. "Don't worry, he's no one's relative. He's a single dad that moved into town this week. He's gay." "He better be. I'd kill you if you set me up with a straight man. Again." Rachel had set me up with a straight guy a few months ago. She had assumed Gregario was gay. She was very wrong. "He's good looking, brown hair, nice looking body in a suit, at least, and has a son on the baseball team. He wanted to move into the school district before practice started." Baseball was a sport, but it was not basketball or football. That pair were the king of high school sports in this area. Baseball was merely America's pastime here. "When Alex arrives, I'll be sure to introduce you." "Alex?" "His name. Alex Carlyle," Rachel said. A few hours later, everyone was in better spirits. The party was in full swing and more than 200 people had been through the doors. Marcus and Joe seemed to be spending a lot of time together. Maybe they were messing around; I didn't care. An hour later, the party was just about over, and the "boy-gy" as Rachel had dubbed it, was starting. A couple of guys were making out behind my couch and another was in the niche under the stairs. The doorbell rang. I opened it. "Sheriff Carlyle? What an unexpected surprise," I said, greeting the sheriff and noting the new deputy behind him. "Hi, Wilson. This is deputy Alex Carlyle." We shook hands. "His son's here tonight and he wanted to check up on him. I'm just here to introduce you. See you tomorrow Deputy Carlyle." Alex Carlyle must have had his son young. In his early 30s, Alex stood my height, black hair, pale blue eyes, and a gym build. Tufts of hair jetted from the top of his undershirt. "Nice to meet you, Wilson. Rachel said we should meet," he said, winking. "I'm sure she did," I replied. "I don't think I met your son earlier, but it's been a mad house. What's his name?" "Kevin." We walked into the living room, avoiding the boys under the stairs. The couch blocked the other two. I wasn't sure how much Rachel had said. We walked into the dining room where seven guys were finishing up a game of Risk. "Nope." "Maybe he's in the kitchen. Some of the parents are cleaning up and a few guys are in there," I said. "Would he have left with someone else?" "I doubt it. He would have called." We walked into the kitchen. Rachel, Randall, Steve McIntire, and Alice Burbury were cleaning up with a couple of teenage boys. "Dad! You made it!" Kevin Carlyle exclaimed. Kevin was not a chip off the old block. Kevin was 5'9", dirty blonde hair, and looked like he shared time at the gym with his dad. Alex was handsome with a cleft chin. Kevin was cute with dimples. They hugged. The other teen was Thomas Eward, senior, stood 6-foot, a little bulkier than the other basketball team members, with at least 6 inches, and thick. His dick reminded me of a soda can sticking from his crotch. It was in his pants for the time being. Introductions were made. Alice closed the dishwasher door and started it. "Time to call it a night," she said. "Oh, my, it's past 11. Certainly time to go!" Alice, Rachel and Steve gathered themselves and headed out the back door as Alex spoke with his son. I closed the door behind the retreating adults and turned around to find Thomas Eward shucking his pants. "Finally," he sighed, taking off his briefs and heading toward the living room. I grabbed his shoulder. "Where's Kevin and Mr. Carlyle?" I asked him, groping his ass. "Mr. Kerry!" he said in shock. "Don't grab it unless you're going to finger it!" "I'd eat it first," I verbally jabbed back. "Kevin showed his dad to the rest room. Can I go fuck now?" he giggled. I dipped a finger lower in his ass crack. "Touch your toes, kid," I ordered. He did, exposing his pink pucker. I spit on his tender boy hole, then poked that finger past his muscle. He groaned happily. "I thought you were going to eat it first." "Maybe later. It's not like it's going to go bad," I chuckled. I started a slow finger fuck, pushing my finger further inside with each thrust. After a few minutes, I was nudging his prostate, watching him quiver with each contact. Between his legs, now spread apart and his right arm holding him up, like a football player on the line, I could see a string of precum from his soda can cock to the hardwood floors. "Mr. Kerry, you know this makes me cum," he moaned. "Yeah, but not for at least 30 minutes, Thomas," I whispered back, pulling up a chair and sitting down. Thomas had a nice ass, firm and muscled. The bush around his cock trailed back on either side of his ball sac, then feathered away lightly from his hole, coming together again and starting up the back of his ass crack, ending at the base of the spine. This wasn't the first time I'd fingered Thomas. I'd lost count. I loved milking him, watching cum ooze from his thick dick after about 35 minutes. I didn't have that kind of time now. Alex and Kevin hadn't returned. I'd hoped someone had stopped both of them at the door, but right now I was letting a river a drool from my mouth slick up my cock so I could fuck Thomas hard. The chair skittered across the floor as I stood up and penetrated the teen hole. I reached around and started playing with his tits while I fucked his shitter, listening to his moans and groans, his back arched, his head resting on my left shoulder. I leaned forward a little and bit his ear lobe, then licking up around the edge of the ear. "Aw, shit," he moaned. Cum started shooting from his dick, spraying a streak of white across the hardwood floors, creating a mess someone was going to have to clean up later...well, or lick up sooner. "Damn, Mr. Kelly, great start for the evening," Thomas complimented, dismounting from my hard cock, while I started looking around to see if I could spot the Carlyles. To be continued Men and boys, thanks for your comments. If you send something, remember to put something sensible in the subject line (do not leave it blank), or I'll think it is spam and delete it. Master Terra D masterterradil@yahoo.com