Date: Tue, 15 Sep 2015 19:45:20 +0000 (UTC)
From: Matthew C <matteo_84cdm@yahoo.com>
Subject: Re: Mikey & the Health Club, Chapter 24 Gay Male, Adult Youth section

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24 Mikey and the Health Club

By Matt Kendrick

After an eventful, busy weekend it was almost a relief to be boarding a jet
for New York City and my four night trip there. One of the ironies of my
job was not only did I get paid an outrageous amount of money to do it, but
when I traveled the company paid for me to fly first class (never know who
you might meet in first class in this business), paid for me to stay in the
best hotels (never know who you might meet in the Mandarin Oriental's
lounge or lobby), and EXPECTED me to take prospects and clients to the most
expensive, hardest to get into restaurants. Is this a wonderful country or
what?

I had a lot of kinks from the five plus hour flight and then the ride in
from JFK with evening traffic so I thought I'd get in a nice swim in and
then order room service and just relax. I put on my board shorts and headed
for the gorgeous pool at the Mandarin Oriental. It is on the 36th floor of
the hotel and overlooks the Hudson River with much of the fashionable
Lincoln Square neighborhood below. It is truly impressive. Next to the pool
is the yoga studio, where I thought I'd stretch before jumping into the
pool.

I enter the yoga studio, but there is already someone in there, stretching.

"Excuse me, I hope I didn't disturb you," I say to the shape bent way down.

I couldn't really guess anything about them based on what I'd seen, not age
or sex, just a shock of dyed blonde hair in a flowing outfit that could
have been on either sex.

"Oh no," he said as he sat up, "you do not bother me at all."

My heart caught. The speaker had blue eyes that would make Paul Newman
jealous, pale, smooth skin so white it was almost translucent, an angelic
face that had never seen a facial hair and the kicker was he answered in a
very French accent in a very soft voice.

"I just flew in from Los Angeles so I needed to stretch out the kinks."

"I understand," the French angel said, "your arms must be very tired."
Yes, it was a very old joke, but it was said so sweetly and sincerely it
was charming.

"I am Tim."

"François," said the angel.

François? It struck me suddenly that I knew who this was. He is
François Bouvier, the sensation of Paris Fashion Week last year. He
burst onto the fashion scene at 14 because of his outrageous style and look
and incredible sense for what was going to succeed and what wasn't. He'd
already been featured in Elle and Vogue. I could only guess that he was in
New York, and staying at a $1,000 a night hotel, for a fashion event.

I proceeded to stretch, but I had a hard time taking my eyes off him. Every
time he looked up he'd catch me looking over at him. He would smile and
blush a little and look away. I forced myself to look away and concentrate
on stretching, but when I did glance up, those big blue eyes were looking
at me. Now it was my turn to blush and glance away.

"How is your kink Tim?"

Was François making a joke? Playing on words? Or was his understanding
of English not broad enough to make such a joke.

"Not going away fast enough unfortunately."

"Let me see if I can help."

Only it came out `let me see if I can `elp, there was no `h'. Gawd did I
find that sexy. Damn sexy French people and their sexy language.

With that he stood up. I knew he was tallish, as models tended to be, but I
didn't realize how tall. He had to beat least 5'10" I would guess, but rail
thin, certainly not more than 120 pounds. His outfit was very flowing, or
at least his pants, if you could call them that, were. His top was a tank
top that was form fitting on his slender torso, but the pants looked like
something out of the Arabian Nights. I couldn't begin to guess at the
material, maybe Chiffon, maybe gauze. Whatever it was, while it would have
looked ridiculous on me it looked perfectly natural on him.

He knelt behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders, "where does it
`urt?"

"My lower back mostly, but my back in general."

"Mmmm, yes, I can feel the tension in your shoulders."

And with that he gently began to grab and squeeze my shoulders, and then a
bit firmer, but even being firmer it still felt gentle. There was
surprising strength in those hands attached to the very thin arms. I
groaned a little as I felt one knot release.

"Ah, that was good, no? You know massage is a French word. The Swedes get
such credit for great massage, but I think French is as good, maybe
better. You agree Tim?"

"It is very hard to disagree right now François."

"That is good," he said quietly near my ear as his hands worked their way
down my back.

I can feel a heat radiating through his hands. I involuntarily start
forward when his thumbs find the biggest knots in my lower back.

"Ah, you were right, these lower knots are very bad ones I think. It is
very `ard to get them in this position. Perhaps if you lay flat?"

I readily lay flat on the yoga mat.

"No, this will not do. If someone came in, they might not understand or
disapprove. No offense Tim, but I find Americans can have very narrow minds
on such innocent things, you know?"

"Yes, François, I know exactly what you mean."

"If you would like me to massage out these knots, perhaps we should go to
your room then."

I didn't know if this was a come on, a genuine offer or a combination of
both, but I was not about to reject such an offer even if it was only a
continuation of the massage.

"Sure, that sounds cool if you really want."

"I want. You are nice."

I think I may have been tenting a little when I stood up, but if
François noticed he didn't say anything. It was impossible to tell
anything about his condition though because of the flowing, full pants he
had on. He might not even have a dick as far as I could tell.

We chatted lightly on the way to my room on the 54th floor, mostly about my
back and how it came to be so tense, nothing really about him. I wasn't
ready yet to acknowledge that I knew who he was. We got to my room, suite
actually, and stepped inside. It has a breath taking view of Central Park,
but based on François's non-reaction my guess was that his room or suite
had a similar view.

"Maybe your bed is the easiest place to massage you?"

I tried very hard not to smile, but I am not sure I succeed. I still had no
idea if this was just a friendly guy going to massage my aching back or a
very cute boy schmoozing his way into my bed. In any case I led the way
into the master bedroom of the suite and lay down on the bed.

"We are alone now Tim, I think you can remove your shirt and bathing suit
so I can massage you well."

Now I know I didn't suppress my smile. I pulled off my top and threw it
aside, then dropped my board shorts and kicked them aside, leaving me in
just a Speedo. I made a motion towards the bed.

"I think the bikini should go too... unless you are one of those uptight
Americans or shy perhaps."

My wan smile opened to a full grin.

"There isn't an uptight or shy bone in my body François."

With that I dropped the Speedo and stood before François in all my
glory. Thankfully any remnant of a semi was gone, but my dick was still
sort of full, even if flaccid. I think I passed inspection because a small
smile crossed François's face.

I lay back down on the bed in the middle of it.

"Do you have some kind of oil so I am not too rough on your back?"

"In that black case," I said, pointing to my traveling supply of `goodies'
on the night stand.

I could have gotten it myself, but I was curious to see his reaction to the
contents. Besides a couple of massage oils it also contained some lube and
a supply of rubbers.

"Oh," he said in a startled voice, "Ten condoms, I see you plan to be
busy. Are you in New York for a month?"

"Oh François, that is three days worth."

He laughed lightly, "you look very Irish, but I think you must have some
French in you."

Not yet, but I hope to in the next hour or so, was the very naughty thought
that crossed through my mind.

"The girls in New York will be `appy to see you I am sure."

There it was again, that damned dropped `h', damned sexy French!

"I am not sure if the girls will be happy François, but I am hoping a
few boys are."

"Ah, so you are an open minded Americain then," he said as he climbed up
next to me.

François squirted the massage oil at the top of my back and promptly
spread it down my back about halfway. It seemed he intended to start over
and do a proper massage. I was only mildly surprised when François
straddled me, sitting on my butt as he massaged my shoulders and upper
back.

After about 5 minutes his tank top landed on the bed next to me.

"This is `ard work," he explained, "I do not wish to perspire into my
shirt."

"However you are comfortable is fine with me François."

As he worked down my back he slid down from on top of my ass to behind
it. And that is when I felt "it". And that answered any questions about if
François had a dick or not. Do I say anything? Surely he must know I can
feel it? I was starting to feel stupid again as I had an epiphany. I should
have learned with Mikey that if it quacks like a duck and walks like a
duck, it is probably a duck.

"Good lord François, did you bring a baguette with you?"

François giggled, it was the first juvenile thing he had done. Up until
this point the 15 year old had seemed more like a 25 year old.

"Oh no Tim, just a petit French sausage, barely 19.5 centimeters."

I did a quick calculation in my head. This skinny French model with the
blue eyes to die for was packing over 7 ½", more like seven and six
tenths. It did not feel slender either, but quite thick actually.

"Oh François, I've spent some time in Paris and done a certain of
research in this area, up close and personal, as we say in America, and
anything over 16.5cm is unusual; 19.5 is quite impressive."

François let out a little sigh, "per'aps you are right, I am not so
experienced in these things."

The words said one thing, but the tone said young François did have more
experience with French sausages than the words conveyed.

François continued his very legitimate massage and kept working the
knots out, especially the ones in my lower back. His thumbs pressed deep
and his palms flattened the knots that popped up. I'd pretty much forgotten
his sizable French sausage and lost myself in the pleasure of the rub down.

"There, `ow was that Tim? Do you have any more knots that need massaging?"

I rolled over to my back and made sure that François was in between my
legs. He was on his knees, sitting back on his haunches; his beautiful face
and his big blue eyes looking down at me.

"No François, you did a fabulous job. Thank you very much. What can I do
to repay the favor?"

François came off his haunches, leaned forward, placing his hands on
either side of me so his body was suspended over mine.

"Maybe just a small kiss," he says very quietly as he lowers his lips to
mine.

He has rich, full lips and the small kiss escalates to a full
mack. François lowers his chest to mine and I wrap arms around his
slender torso as he settles comfortably on me. I can feel his hot breath
through his nostrils and his breathing quickens as his passion rises. My
cock is rising as well. François doesn't object when my hands slip
inside his pants and push them down. Without breaking the kiss or missing a
beat François moves them the rest of the way off.

I am dying to roll François over, get my first look and taste of his
sizable cock, but I decide to be patient and let him move at the pace he
wants. It is very sweet and almost tender right now, but I suspect he is a
firecracker when he gets going.

We kiss and slowly pressed our bodies into each other. This went on for
maybe twenty minutes before François broke off the kiss and laid his
head on my shoulder.

"Oh Tim, you are such a nice man. In my experience, very limited experience
mind you, most men by now would have flopped me on my back and roughly
taken me."

He said `very limited experience' with a very innocent voice and batting of
his long eyelashes in way that suggested he was about as innocent as Mikey
was.

"But you Tim," François continued, " `ave been a perfect
gentleman... You ARE going to flop me on my back and roughly take me,
aren't you?"

He came up to an elbow and looked down at me as he asked this with a look
of concern on his face that maybe it wouldn't happen.

I laughed at his directness, "as soon as you are ready François."

François flopped back with his hands over his head like the Virgin Queen
surrendering her virtue, "take me, I am ready."

I would have called him a drama queen, but he couldn't suppress his grin as
he said it, so this wasn't drama, just fun. I didn't need to be asked
twice. I moved immediately to his large cock and promptly swallowed it
whole, just so he knew I could. He gasped as my nose hit his sparse, brown
pubic hairs and his entire cock disappeared in my mouth and throat.

After swallowing him whole I back off to get a better look at his
monster. It was uncut as I expected, but the skin rolled back easily
revealing a beautiful purple head that I quickly took to licking like a kid
with his first lollipop. François had been on both elbows watching me
when I swallowed him, now fell back and made a gurgling sound as I
alternatively licked, sucked, swallowed and stroked.

I had been beside him, but now I moved in between his legs and bobbed up
and down on him while my hands stroked his inner thighs and occasionally
tugged on his balls. I moved from stroking his thighs to rubbing the
underside of his legs and François got the idea, he lifted his legs up
exposing his taint and pink hole to me. I licked the taint and dragged my
index finger over his hole. I felt a shudder go through him as I did.

My tongue was next on his hole and that elicited moans from him. He was now
holding his legs behind the knees while my hands were on his alabaster
cheeks.

"Soon please Tim."

I knew what he meant so I reached for the lube and a condom.

"Oh Tim, you only `ave ten condoms, it seems a shame to waste one, you
should save them."

I grinned at the imp, "I will save it, if that is what you wish."

"It is," he said with certainty.  I took the lube and used it to slick up
my dick and prepare François's waiting entrance. He opened easily and
took three fingers with no seeming discomfort so I guessed François was
no novice at this. I placed my head at the O-ring and François knew
exactly what to do. Soon I had all seven plus inches of me inside of him
and he sighed contentedly as it all slid in.

"Been a while François?" I teased.

"Days," he responded seriously.

Oh to be young again. I was determined to make this a good ride for him. I
did math in my head, long division, the batting statistics of the 2013 Los
Angeles Angels, anything I could to distract my mind from what my body was
doing so I could last as long as possible. Fifteen minutes in I rolled
François to his side so I could try for deeper penetration, ten minutes
there and I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled François to my lap
facing away from me. I thrust violently upwards and watched his bone China
white ass flatten out and I slammed into him. I knew I was reaching my
limit after seven or eight minutes there so I laid François back down on
his back so I could jack him to climax while I fucked.

The skin was loose enough on his uncut cock that I could hold him a lot
firmer than I could any of my cut partners. I jacked him furiously while I
pounded away. François arched his back off the bed and threw out a few
`mais oui' and `mon Dieu' before simply saying, `I cum!' An immediate
eruption of white shot out from his cock, all over himself at first and
then drizzling over my hand as I milked out every drop. While doing that I
had emptied myself into him after which I crumpled next to him, breathing
as hard as he was.

"How was that François?" I panted out.

"Very adequate," he panted back.

I gave him, my wounded pride look. He slapped me on my chest.

"Oh why do you even ask?" he scolded me, "you know it was fabulous! Is that
what you want to hear, yes it was fantastique."

I grinned, "yes, I know it was fantastique, I just wanted to hear you say
it."

"When I `ave finished fucking you, you will not `ave to say a thing, I will
know it was fantastique."

And fantastique it was indeed.

After we had finished showering, during which we also exchanged blow jobs,
I asked François if he wanted to go out to dinner with me. I was
disappointed when his first answer was a short, but definite `no'. I perked
up when he continued.

"No, America is so narrow minded, they won't serve me wine in a
restaurant. `ave you ever `eard anything so absurd, not serving a French
man wine! No, we will go to `ole Foods in the basement, get a baguette,
some mousse, some cheese, some salami, per'aps some cold fish and wine and
at least one bottle of Champagne and `ave dinner in bed I think."

Sounded like a plan to me.

We had an incredible evening and François, for all his diva persona, was
actually a very sweet guy when we just talked about his life in France,
mine in California and what the future might hold for him.

"I would like to own my own fashion house one day, meet a nice man and
settle down. And you?"

I guess until this point I didn't really realize that I hadn't thought
about the far future too much. I'd been living very much moment by moment,
just enjoying my job. I was accumulating enough money that I didn't need to
really worry about the future, I just didn't have any plans. I'd have to
give that some thought, just not tonight.

"Can you spend the night François, or is there someone missing you?"

"I can stay, I came to NY on my own. I am going to meet with Ralph Lauren
tomorrow; we are going to discuss me creating a clothing line for `im and
then I return to Paris in two days."

We finished off the last of the Champagne, turned off the lights and
François snuggled into me, draping his body over mine. I must have had a
wonderful night's sleep because we awoke in the same position

The next two nights in NYC I had business dinners at Le Bernardin and Per
Se, but François came to my room each night where we did further
explorations of each other's bodies and even better, bonded more and got
more personal in our conversations. He even arranged a breakfast with Ralph
Lauren. Ralph was interested in what I did, even if he wasn't looking for
any acquisitions or looking to be acquired. He was a very astute
businessman and knew that as an M&A guy I might be able to help him stave
off unwelcome advances one day.

François and I parted agreeing that I would visit him in Paris and he
would come see me in California.

My last night in Manhattan was another client dinner, this one at
Aquavit. I was oddly lonely without François. It had been a long time
since I'd shared a bed with the same person three nights in a row. I'd have
to contemplate not just my future in business, but in life and
relationships as well.

I had another night in Boston with meals at Menton and La Voile that day
before heading back to Serra Island. I knew I needed to get to the health
club and starting working off some of those calories before I got a
Michelin tire around my belly from the Michelin starred places I eaten on
this trip.

I was lost in my own little world on the Lifecycle with my headphones in
and pumping through a hard hill climb. I didn't really notice the people on
either side of me until the cyclist on my right took their feet off the
pedals and placed them on the center post of the Lifecycle. I looked at
this idiot, took out my earphones and spoke to him in my annoyed voice.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm going downhill, duh," was the quip from a grinning Julien Boyington.

I just had to grin.

"Shouldn't you be in school today or something?"

"Teacher in service day, we only had half day today."

"No wonder American schools are trailing the Asian countries; you guys are
never in school."

Julien just shrugs, "so maybe we should go to your house and discuss Great
Books."

Wow did I walk into that one or what?

"Hmm, maybe we should. I have twenty more minutes on this and then I need
about ten minutes to cool down, can you find something to amuse yourself?"

"I'll go shower and meet you in the lobby."

I finished up my Lifecycle program and rather than just cool down naturally
I decided to shortcut it and take a cool shower. Five minutes under a cool
shower and I could feel my body temperature returning to normal. I headed
to the lobby area to pick up Julien and head out.

Julien was wearing a Volcom t-shirt, board shorts, flip flips and a Serra
Island baseball cap with his shaggy and wet brown hair sticking out from
under it. A skateboard was across his lap and a backpack slung over one
shoulder. He was the very model of a modern Serra Island boy.

"Ready Freddie?"

"Uh, it's Julien. Juuuuulien."

I was about to respond with, `it's just an expression', but Julien's look
told me he was totally busting my chops. He threw his skateboard and
backpack in my backseat and belted himself in. We chit chatted small talk
on the way home about what he'd been up to and such as we pulled in my back
gate.

"You head on down to the library and I'll grab some cold drinks."

I went into the kitchen, grabbed a couple of waters, a Mountain Dew and a
couple of G2s. When I got to the library, there was Julien, buck naked on
the couch with his uncut cock in a semi. I must have had a shocked look on
my face.

"What? You were going to discuss books with clothes on?"

Well yeah, that was how I did it normally, but I forgot that this Serra
Island crew and younger ones in general marched to a different tune.

"No, of course not," I sputtered, "what was I thinking about."

I put the drinks down, looked over at Julien, who had a very impatient look
on his face and took off my shirt, shorts and boxers. Julien looked more
satisfied now and I think his cock plumped up even a bit more.

"Okay, now that we are properly attired for a serious book discussion, what
did you want to talk about?"

Julien looked very serious as he contemplated what to ask, "is Harry a top
or a bottom; were Huck and Jim doing it and were Frank and Joe doing it?"

"Funny you should ask, I did my senior English project on the Sexual
Proclivities of 19th and 20th Century Adolescents in English Literature."

"Really?" Julien's eyes got as big as saucers.

"No of course not!" it was payback for his busting my chops earlier, "But
those are all really good questions. I think Harry Potter is a total
bottom, Ginny Weasley notwithstanding. You see that in a lot of Alpha
males. While they have to be in control in the world, in bed behind closed
doors they want to be dominated. I'd say no to Huck and Jim because if they
were ever caught poor Jim would have been strung up immediately. I do
however think the Hardy Boys were totally doing it and I think a couple of
the chums like Chet and Tony probably joined in too."

Julien absorbed all the information thoughtfully so I was ready, or so I
thought, for the next round of questions on literature.

"Okay, we've talked about books. Can we fuck now?"

Why do I let myself be surprised? I should know by now, especially after
what I'd seen on the Omegle vids of Julien and based on what Ryan had said,
that these kids have a one track mind. Now when I was in middle school, I
too had a one track mind; the difference between these kids and me was they
knew where to find what they wanted. I might go to a bookstore and flirt
with an older guy, but I was always too nervous to act on it. What if I was
wrong, after all? These guys have had plenty of online experience and they
know that there are men out there ready and willing to satisfy their
curiosity and desires.

"What on Earth does a young stud like you, who could get with other hot
young studs like... oh I don't know, Rory or Ryan, guys like that...  why
would you want a wrinkly old guy like me?"

Julien rolled his eyes, "OMG are you kidding? Wrinkly? Even before I saw
you completely naked I saw you nearly naked at the beach. There isn't an
ounce of fat on you, you have some hair on your chest and I bet you know
how to suck, fuck and kiss like there is no tomorrow. I don't want someone
inexperienced like me. I want to know what a man knows. I've been with boys
already and now I need a man and a man I feel safe with. There is no one I
feel safer with than you. I know if it hurts or I didn't want to do
something and I told you to stop, you totally would."

I sighed, "I'd like you to have some innocence in your life Julien. A
chance to explore this stuff with someone you cared about."

He looked at me seriously now and leaned in, "I do care about you and I
know you care about me otherwise you'd have made a move when you walked in
here. I started Omegling and Chaturbating with guys a lot older than you
when I was 11. Even with the ones who thought I was stupid enough to think
the running loop of a guy or girl my age was a live feed. They were
thrilled when I told them to drop the fake video and chat with me for
real. I've been virtually fucked by guys in their 50s and really fucked by
teens. Now I want a special 30 year old to really fuck me and I mean REALLY
fuck me."

"HA! I'm 31 now!"

Julien gave me `the look'. I thought only Mikey had `the look'. I don't get
it, the loophole worked for Ryan, why didn't loopholes work for me? Hmm,
maybe because I didn't really want a loophole to get out of fucking Julien
and I did want a loophole with Ryan?

"Okay, grab your clothes; let's go to my bedroom at least."

Julien had gone soft during our chat, but now as he got off the couch and
grabbed his clothes, he started to reinflate. By the time we got to my
bedroom his middle school boner was at its apogee; his purple head was
fully out of its sheath and pointing straight to the ceiling. It looked
just shy of 6", but without a lot of thickness yet. Still pretty impressive
for a middle schooler.

Julien wanted me to explain everything as we did it; so when we started
kissing I showed him my favorite Frenching tricks; then when I sucked him I
explained why I was doing it that way. When he sucked me back I talked him
through how he was doing. I was careful to praise his efforts, but also
give tips to improve. And then finally when it came to me fucking him I
told him we were going to call it `making love' and indeed we did make
love.

I used six different positions and explained three more. When it came time
for him to top me, he wanted to protest that he was strictly a bottom.

"Life is not that easy in the gay community Julien. What if you meet the
man of your dreams; you are compatible in every way possible, but you are
both total bottoms? Would you walk away from happiness because you can not
top? No, you have to learn. Who knows, you might even come like it."

While Julien topped me, I was on my back for most of it, I was effusive in
my praise. I even overacted a little in my `oh yeahs' and `so nices' to
encourage him to try some more topping on his own.

After more than two hours our little study session ended and he and I were
in the pool cooling off when my back gate started opening; meaning someone
had punched in the code from the outside. I wasn't surprised when Mikey and
Christian wheeled their bikes in the backyard?

"I've been calling you for three hours, but I see now why you didn't
answer," Mikey grinned.

"Tim's been teaching me literature," Julien offered.

"Is that what we are calling it today?" Christian giggled.

"I must have left my phone in the library. You boys jump in the pool and
I'll go see if I missed any other calls."

When I retrieved my phone from my pants in the library, I had missed
another call, one from François. It was still early enough (before
midnight) for me to call him back on FaceTime, which I did from my
bedroom. François was happy to see me, happy to see I was shirtless and
asked what I had been doing.

"I was in the pool and missed your call."

"Oo la la, per'aps you are missing your bathing suit as well?"

I didn't know how he knew that until I felt someone next to me. It was
Mikey and of course he was naked and of course François could see he was
naked.

"Oh and I see why you could not call me back!"

"Hi, who are you," Mikey said, bending down to let the camera fall full on
his face.

"I am François and you? `ave you and Tim been playing `wham bam' as you
Americans say?"

"Naw he's been doing that with Julien. That is why he didn't call you or me
back. I am Michael."

"Ah and is this Julien?"

Mikey and I turned to look at Christian as he came in the room, also naked,
as was usual for my house.

"Is this Jewel-ien?" François wanted to know.

"Nope, that is Christian. He is Tim's little brother and my boyfriend."

"Mon Dieu! `ow may naked boys are in your `ouse Tim?"

"Twenty or thirty I'd guess," Christian chipped in, "who are you? Wanna
come over and make it thirty-one?"

Sweet Christian was getting more and more like Mikey every day. The two of
them were grinning and panting like two puppy dogs in heat.

"If I would I could, but I am in Paris."

François looked truly disappointed. Mikey started to go into his 20
Questions routine.

"Look, Mikey, you go ahead and sit down and talk to François and I'll go
keep Julien company in the pool. François, goodbye my sweet. Talk to
these two and don't believe a word they say. I'll talk to you Sunday."

I got back to the pool and Julien was looking abandoned.

"Where did everyone go?" he asked.

"I was talking to my friend François in France and I left him talking to
Mikey and Christian."

"Sure that is a good idea?"

"Yeah, Mikey and François are twins separated at birth. They'll get
along famously"

Julien and I had gotten out of the pool and were relaxing on a couch in
bathrobes, watching television. Mikey and Christian came from talking to
François about forty minutes later looking flushed in the cheeks and
sporting semis.

"Boy that François has a big dick," Mikey muttered as he sat down.

End of Chapter Twenty four