Matthew & Lonny & me

Chapter four: Morning and beyond

The phone was ringing. I felt around on the nightstand, and grabbed the cucumber. Then I found the phone. It was Hillary, asking how our fishing trip had gone the day before. As you might expect, I was just barely conscious and suffering a major case of cottonmouth.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"It's nine o'clock. I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Well, yeah, actually, you did."

"I'm so sorry," she said, with a total lack of conviction. "I tried Matthew's grandmother first, but nobody answered."

My brain started working a bit. "Well, it's Sunday morning. Maybe they went to church. Anyway, we had a nice outing yesterday. He loves my dog."

There were weird noises coming from the guest room. I pulled a pillow over my head so that Hillary wouldn't hear them. Finally, I got rid of her. I went to the kitchen and found the cold coffee I usually keep in the refrigerator. I drank a couple of glasses, then followed them with a can of diet cola. I really needed that. Then I went to the bathroom, peed, and brushed my teeth. In truth, though, I didn't feel nearly as bad as I deserved, considering how much booze I'd had the night before.

Then I went to the guest room, to see what the boys were up to. Matthew was on his knees, bent over the bed, and Bam Bam was licking his ass crack. Lonny, up on the bed, was laughing uncontrollably. He had a jar of peanut butter in his hand.

"Hey," said Matthew, hearing me come in, "you snore really loud."

"And you," I replied, "are feeding my dog peanut butter from your ass."

He laughed, stood up, and turned around. Bam Bam got in behind him for a few last licks. "I wanted to know how it felt, and Lonny didn't want to do it."

"Come on," I said, "let's get showered so I can take you guys home. Hillary already tried calling your grandmother. Good thing she didn't answer."

"I guess she was even more drunk than you," Matthew observed.

I gave Bam Bam some actual dog food and let him out in the back yard, then kicked back the couple of fingers left in the vodka bottle as a hair of the dog, chased with some more cold coffee. Finally, I was ready to head for the bathroom where the boys were showering. "Don't use all the hot water," I told them.

"Come in with us," Lonny replied. It's not an especially large shower, mind you, just an ordinary sized tub with a shower head coming out of the wall. It was a tight fit, and even more so because Lonny was bent over as Matthew soaped and fingered his ass. Both little winkies were straining upward.

"It's all ready for you to put your dick in," Matthew announced.

"Uh, no," I told him, "I don't think so." Why did I hesitate? Well, for one thing, I was hung over rather than drunk, and so I was feeling a lot more inhibited than the night before. How many years would buttfucking add to my sentence? Five? Ten? Well, I thought, probably I'd get the maximum no matter what. There were other considerations, though.

One was that I was a lot taller than Lonny, so I'd have to flex my knees pretty far to get my cock down to the level of his ass, and knee flexing is often a problem for men my age. When you start getting old, the shower is just a really awkward place for that kind of thing. The other consideration was that I didn't think I could raise a hardon that morning. It's no fun getting old.

Matthew was not taking "no" for an answer. "You promised," he claimed.

"No, I didn't," I insisted. I don't always remember everything I say (or do) when I'm very drunk, but I was fairly certain I hadn't crossed my heart and hoped to die, or anything like that. "Anyway," I continued, indicating my flaccid dick, "he doesn't seem to be in the mood."

Lonny straightened up and turned around for a look. "We'll take care of that," he said. Then there were four little hands spreading bar soap, liquid soap, shampoo, shaving cream, conditioner, and anything else I happened to have in the shower all over me. The feeling was exquisite. The back pain that seems to accompany waking up every morning when you're my age just melted away. They went up and down me, massaging every inch of my body, although about six and a half of those inches got a lot more attention than the rest. Limpness departed.

"Well," I admitted, "you got me. But not in here. It'll be a lot more comfortable in bed, where we have some room."

We rinsed and dried off. If I started to droop a little, little hands and mouths were instantly on the job, keeping me hard and ready. We moved into my bedroom and dropped down on the bed.

Again, I hesitated. "Lonny," I asked, "you've never had a dick up there before, have you?"

"No," he said, "but I've been thinking about it a lot. And that cucumber felt great last night."

"Well," I continued, "I think Matthew ought to be your first, not me. You guys are kind of boyfriends now, aren't you?"

Both boys blushed, looked at each other, then looked away. "Come on," I said, "admit it."

Matthew spoke first. "I was hoping Lonny would be my boyfriend."

Lonny nodded, and said, "Me too."

"Then it's time for you two to to give each other a really big smooch."

They grinned, and then they smooched, entwining their beautiful young bodies and pressing their lips together.

"You know," I suggested, "you're really supposed to rub your tongues together when you're doing that."

Matthew lifted his head. "You're kidding!" he exclaimed, making a face.

"No kidding," I assured him, refraining from reminding him where his tongue had been the night before. "That's how it's done."

"Come on," said Lonny, "kiss me."

They kissed again, the right way this time, and looked like they were enjoying it very much. As Lonny rolled onto his back and Matthew rolled on top of him, a whole lot of tongue thrusting was going on. I leaned in and offered a couple of avuncular kisses before I got on to other activities.

On the nightstand, next to the somewhat distressed cucumber, the remainder of the butter lay on its paper wrapper atop a puddle of grease. It would take quite a bit of furniture polish to get that nightstand presentable again, but the butter was just right. "Boys," I said, "time to get you ready."

They disengaged tongues and pulled apart a bit. Lonny started to roll over onto his stomach.

"No," I instructed, "stay on your back. But pull your knees up to your shoulders."

With a flexibility and agility I scarcely could remember, he folded himself like a jackknife. Matthew, above him on all fours, said "Oh, now I get it."

"Right," I said. "Matthew, you put your arms around his legs so it's easier for him to stay in that position, and get your wiener up near his hole. Then you can just start kissing again, and I'll guide you down below. Okay?"

With big smiles and a couple of giggles, the boys locked lips again. I dipped a couple of fingers into the well softened butter, and applied a liberal coating to Matthew's little stiffy. Then I started working some more up Lonny's ass. I figured one finger was enough, given the breadth of Matthew's cocklet, but I alternated digits for my own pleasure, and pushed them up as far as they would go. My own cock, anticipating its own journey into that hot little love canal later on, was hard as it ever had been as I guided the tip of Matthew's cute little poker to its target.

Lonny offered considerably less resistance to Matthew than he had to the cucumber the night before, and that hadn't been much. Matthew said "Oooh!" and started humping, but a couple of seconds later his little boner slipped back out again. "Shorter strokes," I advised as I popped it back in place.

Apparently the boys were bored with swapping spit, because they were giggling again. Lonny got them going even more when he said, "Oh, fuck me harder, lover boy! Harder! Oh, it feels so good!" I can only imagine that the walls at Lonny's home were especially thin, or that his mother was especially loud in bed. I had to laugh as well, and that got them laughing even more. Matthew let himself slip out of Lonny and said, "Okay, now I want to see the big one up there!"

It was pleasant to hear mine referred to as "the big one," since it really is kind of average, and actually rather small by the standards of stories like this one. At the same time, I was confident that Lonny could accommodate me without too much discomfort. It would have been very disappointing, and not much fun at all, if he went soft while I was in him -- like so many of the boys in those porno films I'd recently discovered online. I was pretty sure that if Lonny lost his boner, I'd lose mine as well -- something else that seemed to happen all the time in those online movies.

Well, it certainly wasn't happening yet. I grabbed the remains of the butter and greased up my rod. Matthew climbed off Lonny, but Lonny remained on his back, with his knees to his shoulders.

"No," I said, "I think it would be better if I lay down on my back and you kind of sit down on me. That way you can go at your own pace, and I won't hurt you."

I will admit that, while there may have been some truth to that statement, the real motivation was mostly that I'm kind of a lazy bastard -- something my ex-wives and various other women had observed on more than one occasion. Okay, I promise -- no more digressions. Let's get on with it.

So the lazy bastard lay on his back, and Lonny straddled me. Matthew happily took the role of social director, and aimed my cock at Lonny's hole. "Come on," he insisted to Lonny, "sit on it!"

Lonny eased himself onto me. I felt my cockhead slip past his sphincter. He hesitated for a moment, then began to lower himself down my shaft. I was amazed. It was the hottest, tightest hole my dick ever had plumbed, and along with a sense of incredible joy, there also was some regret that I hadn't explore boy fucking many years earlier. Then Lonny slid himself all the way down, engulfing my cock, and I forgot everything else.

"Wow," said Matthew, "that's just totally cool."

I looked up at Lonny's face, which wore an expression of intense concentration. Was he in any pain? A quick glance at his rock hard boner told me that was not the case. Then he pulled up an inch or so, and sat down again. After a second or two, he did it again. Then he did it again, and again, and I started moving up and down to complement his strokes, pulling back so that only an inch or so of my cock impaled him, and then slamming it home.

There were no mother inspired exclamations of delight -- just hard breathing in rhythm with our fucking, with little, semi-vocalized gasps every time my groin slammed against his bottom, over and over again. I know that if I'd been younger I'd already have pumped my load into that hot little hole, so I suppose there is at least one advantage to getting old. If you can get it up at all, you can last a long time.

Matthew's nose was pressed against my balls, so that he could get the best possible view of his friend's ass being fucked by the "big" one. His hands were gripping my buns so tight, I was sure there would be ten red marks on my ass for days to come. Then he let go and wiggled around to get a view from the other side. Lonny's cock was straining outward, and Matthew took it into his mouth, where it moved in and out as Lonny rode up and down on me.

It wasn't long before I felt Lonny begin to shudder. His ass tightened around my shaft, and he let out a long, loud groan. That was it for me too. I pushed into him, as far as I could go, and left my load deep in his ass. A few seconds later, I felt his body go limp.

"Ewww," said Matthew, "I accidentally swallowed it."

"You mean I squirted?" Lonny asked, an expression of pure joy spreading across his face.

"You sure did," Matthew replied, "and I accidentally swallowed it!"

"Oh, shit," said Lonny. "I wanted to see it."

"No," I told them, "that was really special. Lonny will always remember the boy who swallowed his first cum, and Matthew will never forget his first time swallowing."

"And the last time," said Matthew. "It's not so bad because it was Lonny, but I still think it's pretty yicky."

...

So, that was our weekend. I'm pleased to report that I didn't go to jail, but, sadly, that was the only time all three of us had together. Later that week, Laura turned bright yellow and was hospitalized with liver failure. Matthew's mother came for him, and he finally learned the great secret of why he had been living with his grandmother while his mother was in another state.

Matthew is in Massachusetts now, living with his two lesbian mommies. They are happily married, and Matthew made a very good adjustment. He's also decided he's not gay after all. Maybe it was adolescent rebellion, or maybe its because he decided a mouthful of cum was just too yicky, but the last time I spoke to him he had a crush on a girl.

Hillary and Amanda wanted to match me with another boy right away. I declined.

Lonny's life also improved. He started spending a lot of time at my place, frequently sleeping over when Craig's truck was in his driveway. While we continued to mess around in ways that are too boringly conventional to bother describing here, I also encouraged him to read, get his homework done, and generally be more responsible. His grades improved, and he won the title role that spring in the school musical, "Bye Bye Birdie." Everyone agreed he was terrific, and he made some friends among the theater kids, who always are more tolerant of things gay than the other cliques.

Around the same time, his mother was hard up for cash -- drug money, of course -- and for a few hundred dollars she was willing to sign the papers that made me Lonny's legal guardian. That made it possible for me to advocate for him at school, getting him out of a science class, the following school year, where a homophobic teacher was making his life miserable. Next year. when he enters ninth grade, he'll be attending a magnet school that specializes in the performing arts.

He's also living with me full-time now, thanks to that legal guardianship. His mother and Craig will be doing some jail time once they get out of the hospital. Meth labs, it seems, have a tendency to explode.

So, that's the story. At this point, we aren't having sex at all. Part of it is that as both of us grew older, both of us found the other something less of a turn-on. Part of it is that I'm his parent now -- and if there's a way to be a good parent and a good lover at the same time, I don't know what it is. That's fine, though. I've never been happier.