Date: Fri, 22 Nov 2002 16:23:18 +0000 From: Ganymede Subject: Sixty-nine Chapter 13 '69' by Ganymede WARNING: This story contains graphic descriptions of sexual acts between men and MINOR boys. If you are under the age of 18, if this material is illegal in your place of resi- dence, or if man-boy relationships aren't your thing, then exit now and save yourself from a life of sin! As a friend recently said: "Everyone has the right to fantasy. No one has the right to censor an imagination, or dreams." With that in mind, know that this story is not true! Further, it is not intended to promote illegal acts against minors, but to demonstrate that men and boys can love each other despite the prevalent attitudes of western society. It is my goal to help readers appreciate that love. If the sub- ject of man/boy love offends you, if this material is illegal in your place of residence, or if you are under the legal age for such material, do not read further! 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THE NIFTY ARCHIVE: The Nifty Archive needs your support. If you enjoy reading this story, please remember that it is available only because of the Nifty Archive. Instructions are provided on the Nifty home page for how to provide support. Chapter 13. The seagulls went away at night. One had to wonder where they went to. Somewhere out to sea, perhaps, swallowed up by that nearly black expanse, or somewhere on land where they could gather in hordes for there was always safety in numbers especially when existence was tenuous at best. Wherever they went to it would be to rest until dawn released them to for- age for food, breed, and screech as they soared and wheeled overhead. That quiet peaceful darkness, interrupted only by the sound of waves breaking, provided lonely reassurance that all was right with the world. I was in love. I knew that I was, if only because I could not take my eyes away from Ty for more than a few sec- onds before I felt empty. He provided my reason to live, he was the cause of my existence, the source of my happiness. I loved everything about him. The way his hands moved when he talked, his quick gestures, the melodious sound of his voice from the other side of the verandah, his casual attentive- ness to Brandon, and those constant glances back at me to make sure that I was still paying attention to him. After consuming most of two six-packs of beer, the best part of two bottles of wine, and all of a bottle of cham- pagne, Pierce and I finally decided it was time to stop drinking. It was a little late to stop, some might even say much too late. It was nearly ten p.m. by my watch. We had been drinking steadily since finishing at the kart track. The realization that I was drunk sank in as soon as I started to get up from the table. I swayed slightly, feeling a bit like an over-sized SUV at high speed. I stopped, primarily to regain my balance, then took a few paces following after Heekin, dulledly trying to decide at what point during the evening that the floor had tilted. Ty and Brandon got up from their table and followed behind me, giggling. It was good to hear Ty laughing again, even if it was at my expense. He knew why I was swaying as I walked. "Yer staggerin' a tad, ain't ya Terry?" Ty remarked in a teasing came-from-Texas voice that finally got my attention. I turned around and scowled, which only served to pro- mote strangled juvenile giggles from both of them. Ty poked his tongue out at me, as bold as ever. "He isn't the only one who hit the bottle pretty hard tonight, that's for sure," Brandon piped in. "Yeah, they're both drunk as skunks. I reckon Terry's gonna have a killer headache tomorrow." That from Ty, who had watched his grandmother stack beer cans into pyramids that reached almost to the ceiling of their trailer while she tried to poison him with some sort of home remedy for an ailment that he never had in the first place. No wonder he referred to her as a `fucking bitch'. Just thinking about what she had done to him was enough to make me furious. Perhaps she had inflicted her cruelty when she was drunk, which made me feel no better or worse about it, but which struck at the heart of my self-respect because I was drunk. Still, as I awkwardly made my way across the verandah and into the restaurant, I tried to hold my head high and shoulders straight. I was not proud at that moment, but it was too late to do anything about it. There had been reason to celebrate. Success had come at last, and in a way that I had least expected it. I owed it all to Ty Kincaid. The team had its first real sponsor and a three-year contract to boot. I could not think of any team that was so fortunate. Some had more money, espe- cially the large teams that ran more than one driver, but all of them had to consistently finish in the first few places or lose the lion's share of their support. Deals based on per- formance or else had made driving a race car into an even bigger gamble. Living like that was an ongoing nightmare. So, I had reason to celebrate. The problem was that the cel- ebration had simply gone on for too long. However, beyond the obvious, there was another reason why I wanted to celebrate with Ty. I wanted that celebration to be in private. The boys finally caught up with me, smirking at each other. "It must'a bin tha last glass," I slurred. "Kinda snuck up on me, it did." "Yeah, sure it did," Ty admonished. "Ya think you can make it outta here without fallin' down, old man?" "With or without beatin' ya to a pulp?" He darted away, ducking out of my reach, laughing his response. Our walk on the beach seemed like a long time ago, not thirty minutes ago. He was a different boy again, eager, bold, confident that the world was his to command. No longer fearful that I would somehow love him less. The old Ty was back and I loved him so much that it hurt. I loved the other Ty as well, but he wasn't around very often. Just inside the restaurant I stopped again to take a few deep breaths, wondering where the men's room was not because I needed to piss, but I had a conscious need to splash copi- ous quantities of water on my face. It was a sure sign that I was pretty far along on the inebriated scale. Not that it ever helped to breath deeply or submerge my face in water. Drunk was still drunk, even if I used half of the Pacific Ocean. Finally, with both lungs refilled, and giving up on finding the men's room as a lost cause, I started forward again. Heekin was almost out of sight, following a tottering course that diverted past as many tables as possible, Fortu- nately, it was late enough that the place was nearly empty so the half-dozen tables that he bumped into went largely unno- ticed. He caught up to us just outside the front door, having diverted yet again to praise the services of our fine His- panic waiter to the restaurant manager. He laughed, booming out across the parking lot like a bear in heat. That laugh of his could be off-putting at times, but he was quickly becom- ing a friend. "I don't know about you, Terry, but I think I'm just a little bit over the limit," he announced to me in a solemn voice. I wondered what the limit was in California even as he pulled out his valet-parking ticket and began waving it in the air. He was almost going to hand it over to a `suck-your dick-for-a-dollar' youth who looked like he wasn't old enough to drive, until he reconsidered the situation. I wouldn't have let that valet drive my Taurus, much less let him get behind the wheel of a $70,000 plus Porsche. "Yeah, like about three times," Brandon guffawed. He turned to Pierce, his face serious. "Well?" "Yeah, yeah! I know," Pierce growled. "Jesus! I've got myself a little paragon of virtue. We have a rule, see," he explained to me. "No driving when I'm like this. Okay, well, I'm not arguing this time, Saint Brandon. I guess I'd better go get us a taxi." He walked unsteadily back to the front door and began talking to one of the valets. Getting a taxi back to the motel sounded like a good idea to me. "He always drinks a lot when he's celebrating," Brandon explained good-naturedly. "Usually he doesn't carry on like this, but,... well,..." He made eye contact with Ty. They had become close over the last thirty minutes while Pierce and I had been plotting how to convince Ty's grandmother to give him up without a struggle. "He likes to spend time with me without having my mom around. I think that's why he tends to overdo things, but especially when he's in a good mood," Brandon ended. He did not sound apologetic, yet as he talked he contin- ued to watch Pierce patiently. It was fascinating to watch them. It was a relationship of not-quite-equal partners. Clearly, there was a lot of love involved, yet it was also very unlike my relationship with Ty. Our relationship was more give and take, more about having fun and being together. In my mind, Ty was another adult, just shorter. Perhaps it was just a matter of time until that changed. I wanted us to become so close that we could be mistaken for the father and son that Heekin had assumed us to be. "Well, he ain't no better," Ty added, jerking his thumb at me. Although he smiled, he still sounded a little dis- gusted. Hell, I was disgusted at me. It wasn't often that I drank too much. It reminded me of my father. Not that he became violent or anything like that when he was drunk, because he didn't. He simply became loud, very loud. If I closed my eyes sometimes I could still hear him shouting at my mother. Sometimes they fought like cats and dogs. "How far do you have to go, Ty?" Brandon asked absently. It sounded as if he was asking something else. Almost `why do you have to go?' At the time all of us were watching Pierce as if he held our destinies in his hands. Loudmouthed was the best word to describe Pierce Heekin. He quickly arranged for a taxi to come to the restaurant to pick us up and then, opening his wallet, he handed over two twenty-dollar bills to the valet, probably to deliver his Porsche to the hotel they were stay- ing at. Oh, to have money like that. By contrast, I was won- dering where I would get the money to fill up the gas tank, let alone find enough to be able to buy breakfast for the two of us. I began to wish that Bobbie was with us. He had an uncanny ability to scrounge up food. Ty shrugged. "I dunno, Bran. It took like ten minutes ta get here, I guess." He pointed down the road. "We came from that-a-way. We're stayin' at that Sunset, or Sunrise place, or somethin' like that. It's a motel near the Mickey D's ya pass coming from tha track." "Okay. Geez, you're a long way from there. We're only a few blocks away," Brandon said. "We're pretty much going in the same direction. We could get the taxi to drop us off and then take you back to your place." My decision was made up in an instant. The only problem was figuring out how to get Pierce to pay for the taxi after it dropped them off, short of having to explain to him that I was almost out of money. That and the fact that I had no idea how I was going to get back to our car the next day. I was not very good at hitch-hiking. People tended to take one look at me and floor the accelerator. "He's right, Terry," Pierce said with a mumble that took me by surprise. He had a habit of sidling up unnoticed. He gave out a sound that sounded somewhere between a rumble and a cough, another laugh perhaps. A drunken burp? There was no way of telling. I hoped he wasn't about to throw up. "There's no way you're driving home. Hell, it would be worth my job if I allowed AFC's newest acquisition to have a car wreck, especially when I've paid for the booze. Besides the cops around here have a habit of picking on drunk driv- ers." "That's the understatement of the year," Brandon laughed. "You were lucky all you got last time was a fine. That cop was all set to put you in jail." "No way. he was just being an ass hole." "It would have pissed Mom right off if she found out I was in the car with you," Brandon insisted. "One goddamn can of beer cost me four hundred dollars," Pierce complained. "That's all you had to drink?" I asked in disbelief. Heekin laughed again. He shook from the effort. "No way, Jose. See, I was doing over eighty on the way back from the beach and I had a can of beer open." Brandon rolled his eyes. His expression was familiar. I had seen that look on Ty's face often enough. `Dumber than a rock'; that was me and Pierce Heekin apparently. The boys took advantage of the single bench seat placed in front of the large bay window and made themselves comfort- able without offering to make room for us. Of course, the seat was so narrow that it would have been impossible for all four of us to sit down at the same time. I would not have minded having Ty sit on my lap, but I was resigned to stand- ing until the taxi arrived. After a while, Pierce took me by the arm and directed me to the far side of the front verandah of the old house. "It's been a quite some day, huh Terry," he mused. "I can't get over the fact that I've solved the biggest market- ing problem of the year. It'll probably mean I'll get one hell of a bonus." I wasn't sure whether I liked Heekin more drunk or sober. He boasted a lot either way, and he was still loud. Drunk, he was definitely the touchy-feely type. His hand remained on my arm. I didn't like being touched by middle- aged men. Ten-year-old boys were an entirely different mat- ter. I glanced behind me, observing Ty and Brandon, their heads together, talking. More than likely it was a continua- tion of the `best brakes in the world' debate that had been going on since dinner. In reality, it was also an opportunity for them to show off how much they knew about cars. They were competing with each other continually, like two drivers who are good friends off the track, but on the track it was all about winning, probing for that small advantage that was necessary for one of them to take the lead and stay there. Already they were learning that the only way to stay in front was to beat the other guy into the ground. If he tried to get up, you stomped harder. If you didn't do that, he could find his own small advantage end up beating you. "Yeah, I'd have to say I agree," I muttered absently. "You're quite a driver, Terry," Heekin added so seri- ously that I had to wonder what was on his mind. "Not just on the track either. I thought I was pretty good, for an amateur and all, but I was pushing that Porsche of mine pretty hard on the way back from the beach just to stay in front of you." I laughed, wondering how much was the alcohol talking. With over 300 horsepower on tap and one of the best suspen- sions on the road, there was no comparison between his car and my rent-a-wreck Taurus. "Ty was trying to get me to race you," I admitted. Pierce chuckled, not booming quite as loudly as when he engaged in all-out laughter. "You pretty much had me too, until we got to the straight stuff that is. I was actually beginning to think you might had tried to pass me." It was difficult not to smile. Any idiot could push his foot to the floor and go fast in a straight line. It was the other stuff that was difficult. "Like that piece-of-crap Taurus had any chance against your car," I said honestly. At least it was a compliment for his car. He should have been able to leave us in the dust. "I was pulling eighty five for a while. Brandon was telling me to go faster.... He's quite a boy, that one." "Yeah, he is," I agreed, thinking that Pierce was brag- ging about his nephew again. I would not have traded Ty for a dozen Brandons, but he was good-looking in his own way. "Yes, indeed. He's the perfect All-American boy." "Oh." The last thing I wanted to do was to talk about that again. Pierce kept his hand on my shoulder as he glanced around him. There was no one around to overhear what he said. "You realize why he's perfect, don't you Terry?" "Um,..." I prepared myself for the litany of superlatives that he had already used to try to convince me to allow Ty to audition for the role of All-American boy. Sometimes it sounded like he had a thing for the boy I was in love with, but I was prepared to overlook that because I had a thing for him myself. From my perspective it was impossible to look at Ty and not believe that he was the sexiest boy alive. Still, I readied myself to mentally tune out. It would have been rude to excuse myself and go over to find out what the two boys were talking about, yet I began to think up possible excuses to do so. "He's so god-damned sexy," Pierce confided after a few seconds of watching Ty talking earnestly to Brandon. He sounded agitated, almost excited. That bothered me, more than what he was saying. Appreciating Ty's sexuality and being sexually turned on by him were worlds apart. "I don't know how you manage to keep your hands off him. If he was mine,... I'd be all over him, and all the time at that. Well, you know what I mean, I'm sure," Pierce added a little too brazenly for comfort. I smiled. It was increasingly difficult to stand up. It wasn't a matter of being too tired to stand. I was too drunk to be able to stay in one place for very long. I leaned back against the rail. At least it didn't move behind me. I took a deep breath, and then another. Fresh air definitely didn't help. Maybe it was the ocean air that was a problem. Usually I got drunk in a motel room after screwing up a race. Bobbie didn't like me doing it. Neither did I, but I did it anyway. "If he was mine, I'd be all over him," Pierce repeated as if I did not know what he meant the first time. "Yeah, well it gets a bit hard at times." I had not intended it to come out like that. I smiled at that as well. Luckily, I didn't say it too loud but Heekin still let loose another bellowing laugh. Both boys swiveled around. This time they were far enough away that they could disassociate themselves. It was a pity that I could not. "I bet it's more than a bit hard. Man, I'd be poking that boy every chance I got." He stopped. "What you said ear- lier, Terry, about never being married. You really haven't been married? "No. How about you?" I asked. "Not anymore thank God. Used to be, though. Three times. It's hard to believe I was almost married a fourth time." "What happened?" "My sister moved back from D.C." he said flippantly. "Huh?" He smiled. "See, the woman I was going to marry, Terry,... well, the main reason I was interested was that she had a cute twelve-year-old son. A sweet kid by the name of Matt." I think I looked shocked. The suggestion that a man would get married in order to get access to a woman's son was appalling. I didn't say anything. Pierce winked and explained. "Really, to be honest, the boy was only the icing on the cake, but deep down, I wasn't interested in her, which is why my other three marriages failed as well, I suppose." "I was beginning to think you were a slow learner," I quipped. He laughed, but fortunately the sound of a passing truck drowned out the raucous noise. "Anyway, when my sister and Brandon's father separated, she brought him back to L.A. It was a few years ago. He was very upset about it. Poor kid, the whole thing was an incredible mess. I spent a lot of time with him trying to get his mind off it. One thing led to another,..." I nodded. Suddenly, it sounded less appalling. "Um,... excuse me for prying, Terry, and feel free to tell me it's none of my business, but,..." He smiled again. "Are you gay?" "Gay?" I repeated moronically. "You mean if I like men, no, definitely not." Pierce nodded thoughtfully. "Then, can I presume you've had sex with women?" "I,... um,... let's put it this way. There's no shortage of pit babes," I said, leaving the rest to his imagination. "Hm,..." "What's your point?" I asked brusquely. "My point, Terry? Actually it's very simple. If you don't want to draw attention to you and Ty, you'll start dat- ing. Maybe even get married. No one thinks twice about a mar- ried man hanging around a young boy, but a single man? It's guaranteed to raise a few eyebrows. And trust me, nowadays that's all it takes." "I don't think,... I couldn't,... It wouldn't be right. See, the thing is, I guess what I was trying to say earlier,... the thing is, well, I love him." Pierce shrugged. "You think I don't love Brandon?" "No. I'm sure you do," I answered quickly. It was the truth. I had watched them together long enough to know they were more than friends. "The thing is terry, that even though I love him, I still make a point of dating the occasional woman. The main reason is that it keeps my sister off my back. Actually, she's been trying to set me up with some of her friends for a while now." "How does Brandon deal with it?- What does he think about it?" "Honestly? Mostly, he thinks it's funny. He knows why I do it of course. There was one time when I was over at his place for dinner. I made a point of going with a woman need- less to say. Anyway, he and I made out for half-an-hour with my sister and her across the hall in the kitchen." I laughed. "Then you're either a hell of a lot braver than me or just plain stupid." "Neither. Brando and I have a whole series of tactics. It would have worked out even if they came in. We don't go all the way unless he's at my place." Pierce turned away from watching the cars pass in the street, looking to where the two boys were sitting. "What he said, about you and him not doing it,... going all the way, I mean. Was he kidding?" he asked pointedly. "Um,... Ty's not interested," I answered simply. It sounded strange to be saying that, especially to another man. I wanted to add that I respected him, that I wasn't going to take advantage of him, that I wasn't going to force him to do something that he didn't want to do. I sup- pose I sounded resentful, and I was deep down. I resented being asked the question in the first place. It was none of his god-damned business. "Yeah, I know that feeling, Terry. It's not unusual. But you know something, most boys are like that until they try it. Hell, it took Brandon a few weeks to get used to the idea. Then, I took him to the beach house for the weekend. Once he was in the mood, it didn't take much to change his mind. I got him properly loosened up after doing it a couple of times. Now, he wants to do it as often as I do." He smirked at the memory. "The thing is, once you've had a boy, there's not going back to women. It's just not the same." I smiled. It was difficult to imagine Ty wanting to have anal sex at all. Even if by some stroke of luck I did manage to win a race, it would only be one time, let alone as often as I would want to do it, which would be pretty much non- stop. And once I'd done it with him, it wasn't a matter of going back to women. Not because it would be better or worse with a member of the opposite sex, but simply that I wasn't interested in them, and never had been. The idea appealed to me about as much as the idea of having sex with another man. "You and Ty do other stuff though, don't you?" Pierce persisted. He was full of questions. I wasn't sure what I wanted to admit to. I scratched my chin. Pierce drew closer. He was almost kissing my ear. I won- dered if he was a closet-gay despite being married three times. I had thought that he like me, aroused only by young boys. Perhaps I was wrong. It would not have been the first time I jumped to the wrong conclusion. "Has he,... sucked you yet, Terry?" he asked slyly. "Um,... No." For a moment or two I had considered telling him about Ty's promise for the night's entertainment, but it was way too complicated to explain in my present condition. Saying `no' was a whole lot easier. And again, it was also none of his business. "But you've done it to him, right?" I nodded awkwardly. That much was true. Again, I won- dered whether Ty and I had been spied on behind the sand hills. It was entirely possible. Pierce Heekin seemed to know what questions to ask to get under my skin. Heekin laughed. "Here's the taxi," Brandon interjected loudly as if Pierce and I were hearing impaired. He and Ty got up from the seat they had been occupying for the last ten minutes. He bounced down the stairs, jumping the last few. Ty followed, but he jumped from the top step. I had a bad thought about him getting hurt, yet it was only for a moment or two. Like a cat, he always landed safely, but unlike a cat he did not have nine lives. He turned around grinning as I carefully descended by holding onto the hand- rail. Brandon opened the rear door of the taxi with a flour- ish. He smirked at Ty and said something that I couldn't hear over what sounded like the taxi's death rattle. It was in even worse mechanical condition than our rental car if that was possible. "You two drunks better get the window seats in case you start throwing up," Brandon said with authority. He stood back to make way for Pierce who slapped his butt on the way past him. Brandon yelped, but it was all in fun. "It's gonna be a bit of a squeeze, with all four a us," I observed. "Maybe I oughta sit up front." Brandon grinned, pretending to rub a sore bottom. "No need to. There's lots of room in the back sear, Mr. Atkins. You won't be squashed at all." He smirked at Ty. "I bet you won't." "I bet I will," Ty replied adamantly. "If I do, then you'll do it too, right?" "Yeah. Only you gotta do it first. That's the deal!" Brandon slid into the taxi next. He was immediately followed by Ty, still smirking and making a face at me that said something was going on, but I was too intoxicated to know what it was. By the time I had finished climbing into the taxi to take up what little room was left on the back seat, Pierce had given directions to the driver through the intercom built into the plastic divider that separated us from him. I had a glimpse of the taxi driver, another of Bobbie's `suck- your-dick-for-a-dollar' Hispanics, but older. This one might well have done it for fifty cents. He had a worn, worldly appearance, the kind of face that had lived a hard life and never been on top. The taxi surged forward even as I yanked the door closed. It slammed loudly, yet I had the distinct impression that it had not locked properly. I held onto the door handle with my right hand, just in case. It was a tight fit, two men and two boys squashed together, but even as much under the influence as I was, I was aroused. The thrill of having Ty so close to be that his entire right side was pressed against me made me start sweat- ing. Damn, but it felt good. He was warm, wiry, and to my inebriated mind, the most beautiful boy in the world. He wriggled closer, almost as if he wanted to increase the con- tact with me. My brain churned. I was vaguely aware of move- ment on the other side of the taxi. Then, without any warning at all, I became aware of Ty's arm. It had moved behind my shoulder, bringing my head towards his. He wanted to be even closer to me. My face was flushed. My heart was beating rap- idly. There was a muffled giggle. It was directly followed by a mellowed groan. No, not a groan, but a loud drawn out sigh. Curious, I leaned forward, tilting my head to the side. Brandon had his right hand cupped over Pierce's crotch. I could see his fingers, long thin fingers squeezing, knead- ing, rubbing at the rapidly growing bulge in the man's expen- sive trousers. I couldn't see Brandon's face, but I could hear his voice. He was whispering, so quietly that even a few feet away I could not make out what he was saying. Pierce gave another one of those groan-sighs. He was obviously enjoying it. "Okay. You want to watch me get it out?" Brandon said quietly. He seemed to talking to Ty rather than Pierce. "Ya said ya were goin' down on him," Ty jeered. He sounded animated but very nervous at the same time. "I will. I told you I would. You bet me I wouldn't. Five bucks, remember." "Maybe, but only if I don't. `n don't forget I gotta see ta takin' it all tha way. That part of it ain't my idea." "Okay, here goes. I'm taking it out," Brandon announced in a husky undertone. His excitement was palpable. I felt it too, knowing instinctively what he was going to do. It was hard to believe it was happening on the seat next to me. I held my breath, waiting, listening to the noises of the dilapidated taxi, feeling the surge build inside me. "Here?" Ty hissed. "Yeah. I told you I would, didn't I? Then, you have to do your part of the deal too." I watched in what could only be called mute disbelief, wishing that I was sober. Brandon's fingers lifted up from Pierce's crotch. Without hesitation and with what was clearly a lot of practice, his fingers slipped into the pleated fold at the front of the man's $200 trousers, search- ing, then finding the metal tag of his zipper. It opened slowly, soundlessly. Then, Brandon's small hand eased into the gap. I had a momentary glimpse of a red sheen, from silk boxers more than likely. Pierce groaned, then gasped when cool boy-hand discovered hot man-cock "Yeah," he sighed. "Oh yeah, Brando.... Babe, that feels so good." His voice faded. It was awe-inspiring. We were in a world of our own. Over the noise of the engine and the radio playing Hispanic hip-hop or whatever it was called, with the driver beating the rhythm on the steering wheel, it would have taken a police siren to get the attention of any of us. "Jesus," Ty murmured. I could hear the awe in his voice, that same nervous excitement that afflicts boys whenever they see a man's aroused penis. Heekin's huge penis had appeared through the opening in his trousers. It was already fully erect. Bloated, strain- ing, darkened veins bulging. It might well have been larger than mine. It was impossible to tell without making a side- by-side comparison, something I was not about to do. Brandon's head suddenly swiveled back. He glanced at me, making deliberate unmistakable eye contact. He wanted to make certain that I was watching. Unless I was mistaken, he actually licked his lips, not once but twice. His lips were wet with saliva. I had to think just to breath. And then he turned back. He leaned forward, swiveling around and even sliding down from the seat so that he was kneeling on the rubber-covered floor, facing backwards. Was it really going to happen? God, I wanted so badly to watch that huge cock go into Brandon's mouth. But even as that thought stretched the limits of my wildest imagination, Brandon's head suddenly came forward, bending down. His lips parted. The head of Pierce's massive prick simply disappeared from sight. One moment it was there an inch or two away from Brandon's open mouth and then it was gone. All I could see was Brandon's cheek, bulging obscenely outward. "Jesus!" Ty again, saying only what I was thinking. His voice was stressed, all but quivering with excitement at the lewd act being performed next to him. A boy sucking a man's cock. Sucking it! Sucking on that enormous fleshy sausage. Slowly, ever so slowly sinking down so that there was an ever decreasing amount of man-cock to be seen and an ever increas- ing bulge in the side of Brandon's cheek. Then suddenly, almost as suddenly as it had happened, Brandon pulled off. Wet thick cock appeared, glistening in the dim light inside the taxi, veins bulging and dark. Lifting back off, until all of it could be seen again, slippery with saliva, shining in the passing amber street lights. Then, Brandon started grin- ning, his lips red and wet, and looking so sexy that my breath was taken away. I had to wonder what going on as he quickly replaced Pierce's unsatisfied organ back behind his boxers. Yet, even as that was happening, Ty's hand had found it's way to my crotch. He groped me mercilessly, finding the erection that had formed in the all-too-brief floor-show. He glanced up at me, shameless eyes filled with merriment. "What?...." "Shhhh. I ain't payin' him five bucks." He leered at me with a face that was both innocent and so full of lust that it seemed to defy reality. He licked his lips, just as Brandon had done. "What? What on earth?..." I asked nervously. I didn't finish the question. I was going to ask him what he was doing. However, there was no point. It was obvi- ous what he was going to do. It was obvious as soon as his small brown hands reached to my waist. Unlike Brandon, he fumbled for a few seconds to locate the zipper hidden inside the denim, his fingers awkwardly moving in the front my jeans. Once he had it between his fingers he glanced up again, his blue eyes no longer those of an angel, but obscenely bold. He was blushing slightly, visibly embar- rassed, hesitating, but he had reason to be shy. Pierce and Brandon were looking on, their expressions both avid and amused. I wasn't at all sure how I felt about what was hap- pening. All I knew was that there was no way in hell I was going to stop him, even though I should have known better. I was much to excited by what was happening. Ty tugged my zipper down in a series of rapid jerks, but only opening an inch at a time. I was not in a stupor, but neither was I sufficiently alert to be able to intervene even if I had wanted to stop him. I wasn't even sure that I could stop him. He was as determined as I had ever seen him. He concentrated on what he was doing, using the fingers of both hands to widen the opening. Then, another quick glance up to me. "You don't have to do this," I muttered. I heard my own voice but with such dulled senses that I barely heard what Ty said in response. However, I saw him nod earnestly, then an awkward, quick glance at Brandon. "Okay, but I ain't goin' down on him," he said heatedly. "It weren't part of the deal." "Fine," Brandon said. He sounded moody. Then, Ty cautiously reached into the opening he had created. His hand squirmed around trying to find the opening in my briefs for several seconds. The taxi driver was one of those people who abuse trans- missions. For some reason he had placed the car in a lower gear. It made the engine work unnecessarily, the exhaust roaring beneath our feet. Perhaps he could get it into Drive where the automatic would have soon shifted itself to a higher gear. He drove erratically as well, like a rookie on the track, threatening everyone who got in his way as well those who were behind. I hated drivers like that. Ty gave up quickly, even before we reached the next stop light. Hurriedly, he pushed his hand higher, up near my waist, his fingers searching for the top of my briefs. He scooped up the elastic, scratching me with his fingernail in the process, then pulling it downward and outward. Looking down, I saw the patterned cloth bulging outward, his fingers working busily. Anyone could see that I was hard, straining, engorged. Ty grinned, glanced at me for an instant, then gen- tly patted it teasingly, pretending that he was petting a pet. Again, that awful grating sound as the taxi acceler- ated. Whenever the driver changed direction it was enough to cause whiplash injuries to the neck, and braking probably took both feet. My penis throbbed mercilessly beneath a boy's soft yet very deft fingers. Pierce said something to the effect that Ty was playing with it, that a man's cock was really a boy's best friend, and not a dog. I muttered some- thing about pricks not pussies. Brandon laughed. The taxi lurched again, accelerating into a narrow gap that made me tense. A collision was imminent, but what a way to die. Ty's fingers felt hot, remarkably strong, as he massaged the thick shaft. "Okay?" He was talking to Brandon. "You're supposed to take it out." "That weren't in tha deal." "I did." "So? I ain't. All ya said was I had ta play with it fer a minute. I ain't suckin' on it neither." "Wooz!" "Ain't!" Ty rebuked. A moment later. "Can I?" Ty question was directed to me. I nodded vacuously, still disbelieving my eyes. It was impossible that this was happening in the back seat of a taxi, with a tequila-crazed driver, with another man and a boy watching. But embarrassed and shocked as I was, it was impossible not to be excited. Next to what had happened behind the sand hills, it was the most exciting thing that I had ever done. It send a thrill through me that was equal to anything that had ever happened to me while racing cars. I stared down, watching as Ty manip- ulated my briefs down and out of the way to expose my penis. It seemed huge in his small hand, extending several inches in either direction from where he grasped it. "Five bucks if you suck it," Pierce said boldly. "Ten," Ty responded, without even looking up. "For kissing it." Pierce erupted with another belly laugh. "Okay, you got a deal Ty. Kiss it for ten. But right on the top. And you have to use your tongue." "Deal," Ty smirked. I shook my head, hoping to divert him because it seemed like the appropriate thing to do, but equally hoping that he would not change his mind. To actually have his lips on my cock was almost more than I could imagine. It had to be heaven on earth. My penis responded of its own accord as much as by any thoughts that I made have had. I was thinking with my dick, engaging in a full-blown mental workout. It flexed, bobbing up and down, eager to be kissed by a ten-year-old boy for the first time. Ty hesitated momentarily. What boy would not have second thoughts when confronted by a gnarled knob- headed beast like mine. However, if he had qualms they were quickly being put aside. The expression that initially revealed his reluctance to follow through, gradually became a smile. He examined my penis with silent close-up interest as his fingers gently stroked up and down. Ty wasn't the only person who was fascinated by the thing protruding from my clothes. Brandon smirked, his eyes staring fixedly. "He's big," he giggled. "You're going to get a real mouthful with that one, Ty." Ty's head tilted, then shook in denial, although not with anything that could be called defiance. He continued to study it, as did I with a kind of detached awareness that it was somehow attached to my body. The swollen head was plum- colored, and was so different to his own delicate blue tip that it had to be disturbing. It opened at the end, a gaping crimson mouth that oozed a glistening bead of juice each time that Ty's hand squeezed on the shaft. He glanced up again, exchanging a look of trepidation with me, yet even as I considered telling him not to do it, his head began to lower with characteristic boldness. A deal was a deal for Ty Kincaid. It took only moments before he realized that it was an awkward angle for him, just as it had been for Brandon, so he followed the same procedure of sliding down to the floor of the car to adopt a kneeling position. "Go on, Ty. I'll give you ten bucks to smooch him." Pierce's encouragement came a moment too late. Ty was beyond hearing. He needed no encouragement. Like me, he had been caught up in the incredible excitement of the moment, of performing that intensely private act in front of two other people who we had known for little more than half a day, in a jolting, roaring taxi on the main street of Ventura. It didn't matter that it was his first time, at least with me. His lips pursed, coming closer, then in a rush, barely grazed across the head of my cock. He stopped when his lips were on the very tip. The pressure increased, but only slightly, not pushing down to take my cock into his mouth, but lingering as if savoring the taste. After a few seconds, his lips moved gently from side to side, tasting, sliding on the slippery film that had formed there. It lasted all of five seconds, probably no longer, certainly no less than that. It was a dream coming true even as I watched and felt it, my wildest oh-so-wonderful fantasy. It was just long enough for me to realize what I had been missing all my life. If it never hap- pened again, I could die a happy man. His head lifted away, but only for a few inches. My penis throbbed mightily, shining at head where his lips had been. I had an unnerving realization that the sensations were so overpowering that I might orgasm if he so much as touched it again with his lips. He still held it in his hand, three fingers and his thumb wrapped around the shaft, his little finger extending down beneath my briefs and pressing into my scrotum, right between my balls. He seemed to be thinking about what he had done, in front of witnesses no less. At least the taxi driver had no idea was going on in the rear seat of the taxi. I kept my eyes glued to the rear vision mirror, although I was not at all sure what to do in the event that his eyes strayed up. he appeared to have his hands full negotiating between cars. It was like playing Russian roulette every time he spun the wheel, still thumping in time to his radio. I worried what would happen if he misjudged the distance. Luckily, the issue never came up. I was worried for other reasons as well. What reason- ably responsible person would not be worried when a blond- headed ten-year-old boy had just kissed his dick in front of two other people? My worry was matched only by my excitement. I had never known a thrill like that one. Not even racing at Talledaga could compare. Indianapolis for the 500 perhaps, but I had only watched that race from the grandstands. It was always different watching from a distance, almost mesmeriz- ing until an accident occurred. It was mesmerizing for the drivers too, but for another reason. The constant adrenaline became numbing after a while. Sure I sweated until I stank, partly from the stress, but it was as if my body was liter- ally letting off steam in the only way possible. It was some- thing that Bobbie could never understand because he was never in the driver's seat. He made jokes about it that amused the rest of the crew if not me. For a moment, I glanced away from the rear vision mir- ror. My heart was still pounding just as it had been when a boy's sweet lips had formed his first kiss on the tip of my cock. It was still impossible to believe that it had really happened. Ty had done that, kissed my cock, smooched it too for a few seconds, judging by the moisture that remained there. He wasn't the only person whose brain was running at full speed, 700 horsepower and over a ton of metal and plas- tic just an inch off the guard rail. Life and death had passed before my eyes, in a rush. An overpowering, bottom of the stomach, gut-churning slow-motion rush. It came out as a deep sigh, a sigh that wanted a hell of a lot more. I real- ized then what I was, a man who would never be content with just getting his dick kissed. At least that was true if it was a boy who was doing the kissing. Then, slowly Ty looked up at me, not meeting my eyes. He was not normally a shy boy, but in those last few seconds he had become uncharacteristically demure, at least as I knew him. Yet, there was also a hint of a smile, and something else. He was tense, as tense as I had ever seen him, barely breathing for amid the shock was unleashed excitement. And more, if only because so much had changed with that first five-second kiss. He was being gnawed by curiosity, that overwhelming need to know more, to do more. One kiss would never be enough for him either. I could see it in his face, in eyes that would not look away. It would not take much for him to do it again and again. We were both barely aware of the taxi slowing down, pulling in to the curb from the flow of traffic, a too-close- for-comfort horn blast because the driver had given no indi- cation of his intention. Perhaps he hadn't been paying attention to the driving, or like Ty, he had just changed course because there was no choice. Simply, Ty had done only what needed to be done. "Hurry up," Brandon urged. "Huh?" Ty's voice trembled. He was as nervous as I had ever seen him. I watched him lick his lips, more than likely tasting where my maleness had been. "We're here, Ty," Brandon answered. "You'd better put that thing back where it belongs unless you want to get us all arrested." Ty giggled. He sounded surprised, even startled, as if realizing for the first time what was still held in his hand, although how he could not realize what he'd just done was beyond me. Then almost before his giggle ended, his eyes made contact with mine again. The horror and shame that I expected to see, weren't there, probably had never been there. Sud- denly, his mind was made up and without so much as a second thought, his head came down again. It was over in an instant, but in that flash of movement, that blurred glimpse of a small blond head, his lips had opened. My penis had surged into his open mouth and rammed hard into him, into the soft, wet heat of his mouth. Perhaps I saw a bulge in his cheek. It might also have been my imagination, but whatever he did had lasted only for a heart beat before he started to lift away again. However, I had felt his tongue, that wonderful, wet, wriggling tongue that had swirled across the head. It was like being embraced by something alive, engulfed by a slippery sponge that was as hot as molten lava. Seconds of silence turned fantasy into reality. It was not a dream. I could feel the cold wetness on the top half of my dick. He had done more than merely lick it. My eyes opened wide. It glistened in the dim light inside the taxi. I was shaking, sitting there with Ty hurriedly pushing my saliva-slicked erection back into my jeans, except that it was now as much his as it was mine. He was almost rough with it, his finger- nails scraping along the shaft as he fought to get my briefs back in place. He jerked the zipper, but it caught in the front of my briefs. He had to drag the zipper back down before he managed to close it again. The taxi had stopped, its engine still running. The noisy rattle had changed posi- tion. Now it was somewhere underneath the seat. It had to be the differential. When I looked up again, it was as if nothing had hap- pened, although both boys were smirking and giggling among themselves. Pierce had his wallet out, flipping through a sheaf of notes before he found what he was looking for. A ten-dollar bill found its way into Ty's hand. He grinned, clutching the money. "We're havin' breakfast at Mickey D's tomorrow," he grinned at me. "That five bucks," the taxi driver informed us curtly. He barely turned around as he fiddled with the two-way radio that was screeching so loudly that it was impossible to understand what was being said. Pierce peeled off another ten-dollar bill and pushed it through the slot in the plastic divider. I had a terrible sinking feeling that I was not going to have the money to pay the driver for taking Ty and me back to the Sunset Motel. Perhaps Pierce had forgotten about his offer? "Keep the change," Pierce said generously. A five dollar tip on a five dollar fare for going all of two blocks was more than generous in my opinion. It was down- right charitable. The driver picked the note up, examining it casually, feeling it as if touch alone could reveal a counterfeit. He glanced up, looking back in the rear vision mirror. Suddenly, he smirked. He had bad teeth, yellowed from tobacco, a big gap where a tooth was missing. He reminded me of some dirt track drivers I had known over the years. "Ese fun wid him, no?" he growled. "'e boy, `e suck good eh?" Pierce returned a cold look. Without answering, his fingers selected another note, another ten-dollar bill from the sheaf. He folded it in half and without hesitating, slid it through the window slot. I tried to convince myself, not that I needed much convincing, that it was his fault, his and Brandon's. They had made a show of it, as much for my enter- tainment as their own. They had convinced Ty to do it. For him, it had been as much a game as part of a deal. "Hey, Terry. I was thinking it would a good idea if you came up to the room with us?" Pierce said blandly as he opened the door on his side of the car. "Why?" "To spend the night." "Huh? Why would we do that?" He smiled. "Well, for one thing you're going to have a hell of a job getting your car tomorrow morning. This way I could drive you up here tomorrow morning to get it after breakfast." It wasn't the sort of thing I wanted to discuss from inside the taxi while he stood in the traffic waiting to get hit by a passing car. It took forever to get out of the taxi. All I wanted to do was to lie down in my bed and have Ty beside me. No, make that on top of me, bathing my cock with his spit. Instead, I was ready to sit on the curb until I was sober enough to walk back to the parking lot. With luck it would only take a few hours before I was able to drive back to the motel. "Yeah, that's true," I finally agreed. Still, I stuck my head back through the open door and told the driver to wait for a few moments. The problem of getting back to the rent-a-wreck had been on my mind ever since getting into the taxi. Walking back to get the car, even two blocks or however far it had been, never stood a chance. It made more sense to take the taxi back to the car and wait there until I was sober enough to drive. "And it's one of the executive suites so there's a load of room, Terry," Pierce went on. "Hell, we have two queen- sized beds and one of them hasn't been used yet," he added with a smirk. "All you'll need are two toothbrushes and we can get those from the front desk." "Um, well,... see, I don't know, Pierce," I muttered drunkenly. My mind couldn't get past the fact that Ty had agreed to suck my dick when we got back to the room. It was all I could think about, repeating that wonderful feeling he had just given me, and if it was that wonderful fro a few seconds in the back seat of a taxi, with as much time as we wanted and in the privacy of our bedroom, it would be mind-bogglingly good. Yet, even with that delightful prospect ahead of me, I really didn't want to hitch hike back to the restaurant park- ing lot the next morning. I had to be out of my mind. "I,... um,... well,... Ty and I sort of have plans for later," I explained. Pierce raised an eyebrow and then he winked at Ty. Bran- don smirked knowingly. "Sure. I understand. I have a few things I want to do with Brandon too." Both Pierce and Brandon grinned. "Um,... well, I don't know,... It's,... well,... you know, kinda personal." It sounded like a weak excuse, but it was true. "So? If you need some privacy then we turn the lights out. Brando and I usually do that anyway when things get a bit heated." He gave another laugh, louder than ever before. "Well what do you say?" "Um, I don't know." "It'll be fun," Brandon interjected. "Ty, what do you think about spending the night with them?" It was all I could think off. What did I expect Ty to say? `No, I want to go back to our room so I can suck your cock.' "It'll be fun, Ty," Brandon repeated encouragingly. "You said,..." "If Terry wants to, it's okay with me," Ty replied awk- wardly. He glanced at me, leaving the decision in my hands. "The other thing was that I was thinking of sending an email to the company's lawyers to get them started as soon as possible. I'm sure I'll need some information from you and Ty," Pierce added. "Can't it wait until tomorrow?" I asked tiredly. "It could, but the sooner the better. I've always said timing is everything." Brandon all but fell back into the taxi and rolled on the back seat of the car with laughter. The only problem was that the taxi door had been closed and the vehicle was already pulling into the traffic. "God-damn!" I cursed. "I told the fucker to wait." "No problem-a," Pierce said. "That settles it. You two are staying with us." And so it was decided. I followed along behind Pierce, with Brandon and Ty leading the way. It seemed that my entire life had been spent bringing up the rear. Still, the view from the rear was enjoyable when there were two cute little bottoms a half-dozen yards away. It wasn't at all like watch- ing the tail end of a car and breathing exhaust fumes. The elevator was opposite the check-in counter, but the single night-clerk was so busy that we gave up on the idea of getting two toothbrushes. Instead, we made our way across the foyer and I waited next to the elevator with Ty and Bran- don while Pierce went into a small shop. He emerged clutching a plastic bag. He stabbed his finger at the elevator button and the doors opened immediately. "Did you get them?" Brandon asked. He sounded hopeful. "Yes," Pierce answered enigmatically. "Get what," Ty asked. "Um,.... the toothbrushes," Brandon replied quickly. "You don't want to have morning breath all day do you?" Ty smiled weakly and followed them into the elevator, dragging a very reluctant man behind him. It was becoming increasingly difficult to stand up. It had been a long while since I had been that drunk. While most of my senses were dulled by the liquor, there remained a part of me that was on edge. The only problem was that I couldn't place my finger on what it was that was bothering me. The boys chattered as we went up in the elevator. It was one of those glass-fronted elevators where you could look into the atrium or whatever it was called. I stood with my back to the buttons, as far away from the glass as I could get. It was like being on the edge of a precipice, a yawning chasm in front of me. Sometimes, I had to close my eyes. This time I was so drunk that I was able to keep my eyes open. What I saw all but took my breath away. It wasn't often that I stayed at a fancy hotel. There were a number of reasons, not the least being the cost. A basic room for a single night at a place like the xxxx probably cost more than all of the rooms the team needed if we stayed at one of the motels on the outskirts of town. Sure, it cost a little extra because breakfast was almost never included, but one of us could drive to a Dunkin Donuts and get coffee and two dozen donuts and we were still ahead. The team needed to be careful with money because taking care of the car was always priority one, and Bobbie took great pleasure in telling everyone that I was `the original tight-ass', but he always ate more than his share of the donuts. But what a view! With a firm grip on the polished gold handrail, I gazed out, taking it all in just like the little blond-headed boy who had his nose pressed up against the glass. It was far more of a shock to him than it was to me. It was like being in a jungle. Beneath the huge glazed roof there were trees and plants everywhere, pockmarked with splashes of colorful flowers. Here and there were lashed- together bamboo structures that tried to look like Tarzan's tree house. There was even a waterfall that cascaded down what appeared to be artificial rocks into a crystal clear pool. Surprisingly, the indoor swimming pool was all but empty. I counted three people in the water, two of them in the hot tub at the far end of the pool. By contrast, the bar, a tropical boozing paradise, was crowded. The customers were mostly with businessmen who were more than likely taking advantage of company expense accounts. The elevator door slid open behind me and the boys turned away from the view and rushed out. Pierce laughed. "Don't you wonder where they get the energy? What would I give to be a boy again?" "Yeah, somethin' like that," I muttered. I couldn't see the point of being a boy again. Growing up with a father who was almost never around, and when he was, wishing that he was gone. He drove trucks for a living, working for my grandfather. Not smart enough to take over the business, but frustrated enough that he took his resentment out on me. It was no secret that Grandpa Joe liked me. I swayed, and shook my head to try to clear away the persistent fog. I ambled after them. By the time I reached the open door they were inside the room. I closed the door behind me, automatically placing the security chain in place. It was a habit no matter where I stayed, but then I usually stayed in places where you wondered whether your car would still be there in the morning. The Executive Suite was vast. Its size was my first impression. It was bigger than anywhere that I had stayed. It was also very lavish. The paintings on the walls might well have been original. The gold frames were elaborate, the same as the ones you see at the Biltmore place in Asheville. The first room I came to was a compilation of living room, dining room, kitchenette; all with original wood furniture that was probably European in origin. It had the kind of elegant sophisticated appearance than you saw in magazines in com- pany offices when I went to talk with potential sponsors, although why anyone would pay $10 for a magazine that was mostly advertisements was beyond me. I heard voices from the next room and I continued on into the bedroom. Pierce had not been joking about the two queen-sized beds, although, it was impossible to tell which one had been slept in. The covers looked like they came right out of the bedrooms at the Bilt- more as well. "Cool huh, Terry?" Ty said. He was sitting on the edge of one bed, swinging his legs to and fro. "Yeah, very cool, Ace." "Make yourself comfortable, Terry." "Look, Pierce,... I'm not so sure this is a good idea," I said humbly. I glanced around the room, taking in the expensive lug- gage. A person had to be rich to afford suitcases like those. Unless I was mistaken they were the same color as the leather upholstery in his Porsche. "It's going to be hard to get back to the car tomorrow," Ty said bluntly. "So?" "So we ought to stay!" "Ty,... goddamn,... I mean,... They don't need us hanging around." "It'll be fun," Brandon chipped in. "All Brando and I would do by ourselves is get into bed and watch one of those pay movies." Brandon giggled. "Yeah, one of the X-rated ones. There's one listed just for guys." Ty's eyes opened wide. "For real?" "Sure. Why not?" I wasn't convinced Brandon was not kidding him. "You don't mind Ty getting a little horny, do you Terry?" Pierce laughed. "Um,..." "Don't be such a dud, Terry," Ty smirked. "It ain't like I don't know how guys do it." "Why don't you and Ty go brush your teeth," Pierce sug- gested. Brandon jumped up and pushed Ty ahead of him, past me, and into the bathroom. "If you're embarrassed, there's no reason to be," Pierce remarked absently. "After seeing us on the beach today, both of them know what we have. Ty seems to be open to it and as far as Brandon's concerned, hell one dick is the same as any other dick." "It's not that," I grumbled. "It's just,... Christ,... I don't know. It's just that I wanted to have some fun with Ty tonight, that's all." "So what?" Pierce winked. "I figured we'll watch the movie for a while until the boys get horny. Then you can have your fun with Ty and I'll have my fun with Brandon. If it bothers you, we'll turn the lights off." I heard laughter from the bathroom and I turned around as the boys came out. "Hey Pierce, you want to see something really cool?" Brandon said suggestively. "Show him, Ty." Grinning, Ty opened his arms, his colorful Hawaiian print shirt parting down the from where the buttons were open. The eagle tattoo looked ever larger than when I had applied it. "Oh man! Wow! Jesus, that may be the sexiest thing I've seen in a long while," Pierce said in awe. It was impressive, even to me and I had put it there. Both of us stared, gazed at that slender brown abdomen, the elaborate eagle decorating his chest, feathered wing-tips almost touching his tiny dark nipples. Pierce stared for nearly a minute before he spoke. "You put it on him before you went to dinner, didn't you?" "Yeah." "Hot damn. It's so sexy." He took a deep breath. "I'm thinking,... this might be it, Terry." "It looks like his claws are going for his belly but- ton," Brandon pointed out. "Man! That's some tattoo." Pierce seemed lost for words. It took a few seconds before he spoke. "You know, when we were working up the All-American Boy program, I wanted to do something different." He breathed out. "Something that was bold,... definitely not the usual run of the mill stuff-. This is bold. This is the All-American boy I think I had in mind all along! Talk about patriotic-. That idea, Ty's idea,... about putting transfer tattoos in the cereal boxes,... that's it! I can see it all. We put an eagle on him, just like this one, with his race-suit open far enough in front to show it. And we'll have little eagles in the boxes. Yes! Why didn't we think of it earlier. It's exactly right and Ty's the right boy to do it too." "Huh?" I muttered. Other than the raw sexuality of a boy with a tattoo I couldn't see what all the fuss was about. "I don't get it." "Jesus. Eagle? All American Boy? Do I have to spell it out for you, Terry? It's perfect!" he exclaimed. "Okay, I get the eagle thing, but so what? You aren't thinking of,... you are!" I began to laugh, imagining Ty's pic- ture on a cereal box. The Team 69 suit open to his waist to reveal his chest and the tattoo. To my mind, it would be sexy in the extreme. Ty grinned from ear to ear. "It's hot, Terry. Goddamn, hot. No one's done anything like it that I'm aware of, and certainly not in cereal. It makes exactly the kind of statement that we wanted Crunchy Go to make from the outset. It was supposed to be extreme, the kind of thing that kids in our target market will go for. Speaking of Crunchy Go,... Hey, Brando, get him some from the suitcase." Pierce turned to me. "I have some samples I've been carrying around for him to snack on. I can just about guarantee he'll like it." Brandon tossed Ty a generic plastic bag. I could see the little squashed balls inside. The color wasn't bad, far bet- ter than I expected given how Pierce had described it. Having watched a preteen boy in action over the last few days, I was confident that the cereal was going to be a phenomenal suc- cess. Ty picked out a few pieces and began to eat. Pierce watched him expectantly. His first impression was right on the money. "Hey, this is good," Ty said as he chewed. Pierce smiled and nodded encouragingly. "Terry, I'll understand if you say no, but I was thinking it would be a good idea to get a few photos of Ty. It'll make Charley even keener, especially when I tell him what we're paying you." "Huh? You mean eating?" "Sure, it's perfect. I want him just the way he is. Showing off the tattoo, chewing with his mouth open,... the perfect All-American boy. I'm beginning to like the idea of him being a bit rough around the edges. Our target market will identify with him 100 percent, although their parents might not." He laughed and stopped abruptly. "Yes, I really think we have a whole new approach to marketing, Terry. No one's got anything like it. A 100 percent pure boy getting his 100 percent daily vitamins from Crunchy Go!" He went over to where his briefcase was lying on top of the television. He opened it and took out a camera that was small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. It even had a little television screen that lifted up, just like the video cameras I often saw people using around the track. "Ya know, ya oughta call it Crunch and Go," Ty said between mouthfuls. Pierce and Brandon looked at each other and started to laugh. "What's so funny?" Ty demanded. "Because I've been telling Pierce that for months now," Brandon finally managed to say. "Why is Crunch and Go a better name, Ty?" Pierce asked. Ty shrugged nonchalantly, but I could tell that he was thinking before he answered. He chose his words carefully, realizing that it was important. "Because it is, Mr. Heekin. I guess Crunchy Go sounds like some little kids' cereal. This stuff is good. You just crunch and then you go." "I told you," Brandon said. "What did you say earlier about him being a diamond in the rough?" Pierce said to me as he lifted the camera to his eye. "Man, this is fantastic. I can't believe it looks so right. Hey Ty, as you eat, try licking your lips a bit,... not too much. Let's see some teeth. Just right. Move the shirt a bit to the sides so I can see more the tattoo. Keep it on your shoulders. I know I told you he had a nice body, Terry, but this is fabulous. I love his tan," Pierce remarked as the flash on the camera went off again and again. I watched, vaguely disturbed as Pierce moved in closer, rearranged Ty's arms, directed his head to the side, touched his body, stepping back, still snapping off photographs. I would have to get used to seeing Ty being photographed. "That's some beautiful boy-belly he's got there, Terry," Pierce observed of his willing model. "If there's more than an ounce of fat on him I'd be surprised." I loved Ty's body, especially the way his skin formed a dozen thin ripples at his waist when he sat down. There was no puppy fat. I knew why and the knowledge depressed me. His grandmother's mistreatment had kept him thin even when the bad food he was eating should have been fattening him. Some- how, by some miracle, he had managed to survive and come out on top. Pierce reached out and relocated Ty's rat's tail where it could be seen. He took a deep breath. Again and again the camera flashed. It have to have a vast amount of storage space inside it. "Man, I'm getting one hell of a hard-on doing this," Pierce admitted breathlessly. "I always wondered if you could make cereal sexy. Now I know we can. People are going to be jacking off with our cereal boxes once Ty's picture is on it." Ty smirked at me. I was not at all sure I liked the idea of people doing that. He was my Ty, not some cheap hooker who posed for pornography. Yet, despite my reservations, I accepted the inevitability of it. He was an incredibly sexy boy. He exuded sex just sitting there on the bed eating Crunchy Go. "You think this tattoo is sexy," Ty giggled. "Just wait Mr. Heekin." He stood up, ignoring my sudden head shake. His hands moved to his waist and unfastened the knotted cord that held his board shorts up. Fortunately, he didn't push his shorts all the way down. Just far enough. The tattoo between his navel and groin slowly came into view as his hips wriggled seductively. "Oh God," Pierce sighed. "Another one. Hell, it even says `SEXY'. Oh that is so right!" He turned to me. "How did you ever convince him to put those on?" I gave a shrug. "It wasn't all that difficult, Pierce. He picked them out and I decided where to put them." Ty laughed so hard that bits of Crunchy Go went flying across the room. "Go on, Terry, tell him what the deal was." I shook my head. It was too embarrassing. "So, can I assume there are others?" Pierce asked boldly. He rearranged the bulge in his trousers. Ty smiled mischievously. "If there are, you ain't seein' `em, Mr. Heekin." Pierce erupted into laughter. "Then, I'll just have to keep dreaming I suppose," he said after a few moments to calm down If his laughter was deafening, the noise that Ty and I made would have drowned him out. "I can't believe it," I finally managed to say. Ty shook his head in disbelief. "What's so funny?" Pierce asked. "Was it something I said?" "Shall we show him?" I asked Ty. Ty grinned and nodded. "Sure. I've never mooned no one before but I always wanted to." He stood up and turned around so that his back was fac- ing towards Pierce. I couldn't stop myself from laughing as his hands took hold of his shorts. He gave them a good yank, dragging them about halfway down his thighs. I was standing to the side so I didn't get the full effect, but what I did get was enough to make my heart jump up and down like a pis- ton at the red-line. "Oh my god! OH, MY GOD! That's incredible! I just said keep dreaming, didn't I? And there it is! Keep dreaming!" Pierce glanced at me. "That's got to be the cutest ass I've ever seen, next to Brandon's of course. Okay Terry, I know you're going to say no, but can I please, please get a photo of him like this. You won't be able to see his face so no one will never know it's him. And I promise I keep it where no one else will ever find it." "I guess you better ask Ty that," I replied seriously. "But if he says yes, you're going to have to give me a print." "Ty?" Pierce begged. "Just one picture of your butt." Ty giggled. I really didn't expect him to say yes. Actu- ally, he didn't say anything. What he did do was to put his hands on his buttocks and split his cheeks apart so that the tattoo could be seen in its entirely. Pierce also got a close-up of his tiny puckered anus. It was a once in a life- time picture. I all but choked as Pierce closed in. My heart hammered an instant before the flashlight illuminated Ty's rear. "No!" Pierce stopped and stepped back. He shrugged noncha- lantly. "No problem. I can't believe this is happening," Pierce admitted. "We only met you guys today,... and I'm almost taking photos of your boy's ass." "It wouldn't be the first time," Brandon interjected. "He takes photos of me all the time in the buff," he explained to Ty and me. "You'd think he'd get bored he's got so many." "There's no such thing as too many photos of a sexy boy, especially when he's a good looking as you two boys are," Pierce retorted. After that, the inspiration to take more photos of the all-American boy faded away. Pierce was not about to ask if he could take more photos of Ty in intimate poses, and I wasn't about to agree even if he did ask. There were some things I just didn't feel comfortable with. Brandon picked up the remote controller for the televi- sion and by some peculiar skill available only to young boys managed to get to the X-rated movies area within a few sec- onds. It usually took me a phone call to the front desk before I understood how to change channels and arrange pay- ment. Apparently, Brandon had already decided on what we were going to watch because he skipped past the brief intro- ductions and went right to the movie. It was titled `Boys of Summer', but according to the warnings on the screen, the youngest boy was eighteen years old. Ty rearranged the pil- lows on the bed he was sitting on and lay down. He chewed down a few more Crunchy Go pellets. He patted the cover next to him to indicate where I was supposed to be. I felt awkward, but I joined him. Brandon and Pierce didn't seem to care that we were in their room, but I didn't feel comfortable. I stared at the television, waiting for the preliminaries to finish. There wasn't much a plot, assuming that you can say that a movie about four pseudo-boys spending a week together somewhere in Baja California has a plot. The flesh made up for it. The four American were hunks, the kind of man who'd keep Bobbie awake at night, but who did nothing for me. On the other hand, Ty was visibly fascinated, even sexually excited by what he saw, judging by the little bulge in his shorts It was the same for Brandon. He lay with his legs apart, displaying his arousal to anyone who cared to look in his direction. I didn't know much about gays, even though Bobbie had been my chief mechanic for years. However, seeing Brandon like that made me think that he had to be a gay in the mak- ing. He reminded me a lot of Bobbie, not physically, because they were as opposite as they could get, but in other ways that I could quite put my finger on. I decided Ty was differ- ent, but I couldn't put my finger on what the difference was. The movie started to get into what I would have been tempted to call hard porn because of my Methodist upbring- ing. Clothes were coming off every few seconds as Pierce switched off the lamps over the bed. "Nothing like a little mood lighting," he said quietly to me. "Especially if you want to get a boy in the mood," he added. The room was lit only by the television and reflected light coming from the bathroom. It wasn't so dark that I couldn't see around the room. I inhaled the smell of shampoo, barely able to resist kissing the top of Ty's head. His hair felt like fine strands of silk brushing against my nose. He wriggled closer to me, pressing against my flank. From what I could see, Brandon was doing the same thing with Pierce. I barely heard what was being said. I was certain I heard them say `I love you'. The sound track from the video became white noise. My heart was pounding. I could feel Ty's warmth, the softness of his bare arms, the steady rhythm of his chest rising and falling. "Pretty hot, huh?" Ty whispered. "You or the movie?" "Duh!" He twisted his head and smirked at me. His voice was trembling with nervous excitement. "Me and Paul watched a movie like this once. It was one of his dad's, so it had girls in it." Perhaps it was only my imagination, but he sounded dis- gusted. My opinion of what turned Ty Kincaid on was tentative at best up to that point, but it was confirmed by what he said next. I had to wait for several minutes, almost bored by the video of three naked men, and a fourth who was wearing plaid boxers. The fourth man was a bald-head bear, hirsute and moustached. They were gathered around a blazing fire on the beach, all sporting gigantic erections amid bushy crotches and low-hanging balls. I amused myself by thinking of Ty's compact, still immature package. Other than the hair on his head, there wasn't a hair on him. He was the All-Amer- ican boy, 100 percent proof, and he was lying right beside me, almost on top of me. So Terry, which one do you like the most?" he asked teasingly. "The one next to me." It was the honest-to-God truth. "Ha. I mean them," Ty said, pointing. "They're all too old," I grumbled. I leaned over him. "I like `em smooth `n small, Ace. Anythin' bigger'n three inches and I get turned off real fast." He grinned and wriggled back against me. He could feel it pressing against his thigh, of course, that thick hard stake that snaked down the leg of my jeans. "I like him," Ty said in a voice that was intended only for me to hear. For once, he had not countered with four inches. I assumed he was too sleepy. "So does Brando," Pierce said in a soothing voice. I lifted my head and looked across Ty's body. Pierce had his hand underneath Brandon's shirt. I caught a glimpse of Brandon's bare belly. From the angle of his arm and the barely noticeable movement, Pierce had to be playing with his nipples. Brandon was relaxed, staring at the screen, his knees spread apart invitingly. And that boy-bulge certainly looked inviting. It was a lot bigger than anything on Ty's body. I had seen Brandon naked at the beach, but not sexually aroused. He had a penis that was long and thin, almost mir- roring the rest of his body. The way he was lying, with his arms stretched back behind his head, and his skinny body, the bulge in his fancy designer pants was greatly enhanced. "He's okay," Brandon muttered dreamily. "Just okay?" Pierce taunted. His finger flicked back and forth under the shirt. "Okay, he's hot," Brandon giggled. "But I still like you more." I was surprised when Ty's hand closed over my hand that had been lying still although resting on the bare ridge of his hip. He held it in his hot moist palm. We watched the video together. I could understand why the boys were enjoy- ing it, I simply didn't enjoy it myself. The actors were in their late teens or early twenties, handsome specimens of manhood with bodies to die for. From the magazines that Bob- bie lift in the truck cab, I easily recognized them for what they were. Jack-off material. They had the stereotypical gay-muscle-builder appearance with hair in all the right places. It didn't do much for me. They would probably have given Bobbie a stroke. "He's got the biggest one," Ty said softly. The hairy man had finally lost his boxers, pulled off by two of the others, while the fourth man was sticking his tongue down his throat. The sight of two men doing that, kissing each other, was enough to make me heave. It didn't strike me at all as being hypocritical that it was what I wanted to do to Ty. I wasn't interested on iota in the mas- sive stake of hard flesh that had finally made its appear- ance. Men did nothing for me, however the thought of that huge cock sliding into a boy's body was enough to make me shiver. Was it even possible for a man to do that to a boy and not cause permanent injury? "They must have saved the best for last," I said cyni- cally. Ty giggled. His fingers tugged at my fingers, drawing my hand across his side and downward. He was bare there, almost to his groin, because that was where his shorts had stayed after he'd mooned Pierce. It seemed as if he was intent on pulling my hand onto his groin. I felt the warmth of his lower belly, passed over skin that was so soft that my fingers were almost with any sense of touching him. He stopped there content to feel my gentle caress. My thumb stroking up and down beside his navel. The tips of my fingers slowly circled over and around getting very close to his hairless pubis, not daring to go that extra inch that would take them under the waist of his shorts. "Look at them now," Ty said in a hushed, anxious voice. Again, I craned my neck. Pierce was intent on pleasur- ing Brandon. The hand that had been under his shirt was now cupped over the boy's bulge, almost hiding it from view. I breathed out, disbelieving, fascinated, insanely jealous but for Ty. I watched Pierce's hand massage, fingers relent- lessly squeezing the mound that was formed by Brandon's boy- hood. Suddenly, Pierce looked up and met my eyes. He smirked, winked, gave the lump a deliberate squeeze for me. Brandon let out a muffled groan. His pelvis lifted up, higher, harder into Pierce's hand. His body trembled, giving way to urgent thrusting before Pierce pushed him down, his hand clutching, grasping the boy's excited sex organs. A few seconds passed before Brandon responded. He swiv- eled around. His hands, both of them reached down. I couldn't see where he was touching. I didn't have to. "Yeah, you like that, don't you Brando. I think maybe it's time to get under the covers," Pierce admitted, still watching over Brandon's shoulder to see my reaction. I smiled slightly. There was nothing else I could do. Seeing that shameless exhibition had sent a surge through me that was equal to any thrill I had ever known. Equally excit- ing was the knowledge that the night had only begun. I had no doubts and more than a few qualms that we would witness a lot more before the sun rose. Worse still was the video we were watching, because as increasingly came the realization that I was exposing a ten-year-old boy to an adult world. By then, Ty's hand tightened on mine and guided it under his shorts and onto the warm mound of his groin, giving me the green flag.