Date: Thu, 20 Mar 2003 16:07:37 +0000 From: Ganymede Subject: Sixty-nine Chapter 14. '69' by Ganymede WARNING: This story contains descriptions of sexual acts involving men and MINOR boys. Such descriptions are an integral part of the story. While the story may appeal to prurient interests, it is intended to have serious literary value. If you are under the age of 18, if this material is illegal in your place of residence, 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. The sexual acts described in the story are the result of my imagination. I have not performed these acts, and I do not encourage others to perform them with minors. If the subject 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! By downloading this story: "... you implicitly declare and affirm under penalties of perjury that you are not a minor or in the company of a minor and are entitled to have access to material intended for mature, responsible members of society capable of making decisions about the content of documents they wish to read...." The story is copyrighted under my pseudonym, Ganymede. A copy has been placed in the Nifty archives for your enjoyment. The story cannot be used to derive monetary gain. The story cannot be placed in archives that require payment for access, or printed and distributed in any form that requires payment either directly or indirectly. Any similarity to individuals, living or dead, is entirely accidental. My sincere appreciation to two friends whose comments have been very helpful. 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 14. Ty was warm and soft, and whenever he touched me I could think only of a single word to express the feeling that surged throughout me: delight. So delightful that I kept thinking I had never been touched by a human hand before, but it was probably because my mind was addled from drinking so much wine. Yes, I was drunk. Yet, as wonderful as the feelings were, Ty soon calmed down from his initial foray into lust. The green light changed to the caution flag. I didn't complain when he gently but resolutely pushed my hand away from where it was, creeping along his inner thigh headed to his three-inch weenie. I decided, or rather convinced myself, that it didn't mean stop, just take it slow. "No problem, Ace," I whispered in his ear. "There's no rush." He looked at me as if he wasn't sure what I'd said. Perhaps it was relief instead. However, he moved away a few inches, separating us so that he wasn't lying half-over me. Not too far, but far enough that our bodies weren't touching the way they'd been a moment earlier. I waited until he settled down. "Ya getting' comfortable there, boy?" I muttered, resorting once again to the idiom of my North Carolina heritage. It was a lot easier to talk that way than worry about my p's and q's. "Yeah, how about you?" "I'm doin' fine." The separation didn't last long the first time. A few seconds later, he smiled and his hand cautiously extended out again. It was reassuring that he needed me as much as I needed him. The back of his hand pushed deliberately against my crotch. Just once. It wasn't much, but it said that he really wasn't mad at me, even if I was drunk. He was just taking things at his own pace. However, after that, it became erratic, a sort of spontaneous need to make sure that I was there beside him. Again and again, his hands brushed over me, never touching my crotch again, but still finding some part of me to stroke. I returned his caresses, following his lead, hoping that his hand would find its way back again. It seemed that once contact had been made, he drifted away again. Maybe it was the R-rated video we were watching. Perhaps he was trying to act out what he was seeing and feeling as the plot thickened to the consistency of water. "Ya like this stuff?" I asked. "It's okay. The young dude is kinda cute." "Him?" I asked when the young dude's face appeared with something other than a cock between his lips. "Uh huh." Ty smirked. "I reckon he could probably fit your whopper in there if he opened wide," he jeered. "Like you?" I teased back. "Reckon you could take more than an inch or two?" He smirked. "What's it worth to ya?" "How about a plane ticket back to Tallahassee, Ace?" He giggled and meaningfully licked his lips as if preparing to earn his keep. He was joking of course, and even if he wasn't, I certainly was. There was no way that he'd ever be more than a few feet away from me if I had anything to do with it. "Man, look at him suck that mother fucker," Ty said in admiration. Personally, I couldn't see the point of watching grown men have sex, certainly not sex without any emotion attached to it. The last thing I wanted was for another man to touch me. Wham, bam, slam! From cock- sucking the action soon progressed to other things, things that made me uncomfortable even if the actual details of what the men were doing were lost in the darkness of the night setting. Ty seemed to be oblivious to what was happening, in so far as he didn't say a word. At times, he appeared so detached that I wondered whether he was actually watching. What they said and the sounds they made were enough to fill in any gaps. Still, despite his avowed distaste for anal sex, Ty was watching. Indeed, when the angle of the camera shifted and zoomed in closer, it seemed to me that he took a lot more notice, which had to account for something I thought. However, as far as I was concerned, the video was simply background noise, ever present, but otherwise it was not a distraction. As the minutes passed, I couldn't help wondering whether those clumsy fleeting touches were all a game for Ty, a game whose rules only he knew. Maybe it was more than that, but I wasn't about to ask him. I was prepared to play the game his way. It was the only way, in fact, given the nearly thirty-years difference in our ages. I figured that he'd eventually either stop or progress to something else. It was a bit like driving a 500 mile race. You had to be able to go the distance before you worried about who was in front. "Ya reckon he likes it `cause he's sure smilin' `bout somethin'?" Ty asked quietly. "I guess," I ventured. "It's gotta hurt somethin' awful." He sounded adamant. "Hm, maybe,- Yer talkin' to tha wrong guy, Ace. Next time ya see Bobbie ya oughta ask him what it's like. Or better yet, ask Trevor what it's like when Bobbie does it in his ass." Ty barely managed to keep from laughing out aloud. "No fuckin' way! `specially Bobbie! He'll probably try to give me a demo." In the adjacent bed, Pierce and Brandon were doing the things that I wanted to do with Ty. At first, all I had were suspicions mixed with hope that I wasn't mistaken. It began with muffled whispers coming from the other side of the room, promptly followed by the sound of clothes being removed. Okay, they were getting naked, but there was an alternative explanation to them having sex. They were getting ready for bed and they didn't want to undress in front of us? That made sense, but only if I was dumb enough to overlook reality. Pierce took great pleasure in tossing each article of Brandon's clothing away. A couple of times, things sailed overhead until they hit the wall. I think one of Brandon's socks actually landed on our bed. That got our attention. "Jesus!" Ty whispered. "He's got Brandon in the nud now." Not nude, but `nud', spoken just the way it's spelled. "No shit!" "Man, Brandon said somethin' about them maybe messin' around, but I didn't figure they'd be doin' this." "Well, it ain't like they're doin' it in front of us," I muttered dryly. "Maybe they're getting' ready fer bed. A lot of guys sleep naked ya know." "Like us?" Ty suggested merrily. "If ya want, it's okay by me. I figure it's up to you, Ace," I answered boldly. Across the room, someone sniggered. I thought it sounded like Pierce. I hadn't intended to speak so loudly. What followed was almost as if Ty was making up for what we could not see. He wriggled closer, close enough that we might well have been joined together. Throughout the minutes that followed, as the two of them wrestled, whispered and giggled, Ty stayed pressed up hard against me. Knowing that Pierce and Brandon were naked, had the same effect on Ty as it did on me. I felt his penis begin to grow, become hotter, harder, and noticeably bigger. Finally, his three-inch boner began the process of digging an urgent groove in my thigh despite our clothing. At the same time, his infrequent touches stopped. His hand remained still for a while. Long lonely minutes passed before his fingers cautiously walked up and down my body, engaging in an exploration that was entirely random in its wanderings. It seemed that he wanted to touch me in a different way, but he was not quite sure of how to go about it. Like me, he was interested, undeniably interested in what was going on in the next bed. It seemed too bizarre to be actually happening, yet I wanted it to be happening. Indeed, in a moment of selfish introspection, I realized that I was fit to be tied. I was more jealous of Pierce than ever. I would have liked if we were playing the same games. Neither would I have minded in the slightest if Ty was as naked at Brandon had to be beneath the bed covers. "Man, they sure are havin' fun," Ty whispered. He sounded anxious, but he was also excited. "Ya reckon Pierce is naked too?" "Maybe,- it's kinda hard to tell from here. Ya want me to turn the lights on so's ya can see, Terry?" Ty sniggered. "No fuckin' way." "I think they're kissin'." "Uh huh." I swallowed, sending a mental message that it wasn't such a bad idea. I wasn't close minded to the possibility that guys could kiss if they wanted to. There was no reason why we shouldn't follow suit. Ty's breath was hot against my neck. So close, yet so very far away from the intimacy I so badly wanted. He breathed deeply, his breath hot and moist. I wanted to touch him, to feel his lean hard body with my hands, to stroke his smooth limbs, his flat belly, his sensitive nipples. I wanted to do something, anything. However, wanting to do something wasn't enough to overcome my reluctance to take the initiative. I don't think he would have complained. "What ya waitin' fer?" he muttered. "Huh?" "Ya ain't that drunk." And that was how it got started. Ty moved up the pace a notch. Somehow, throughout all of the preliminaries, we stayed dressed. The worst thing that happened was reaching under each other's shirts to touch bare skin and even then it wasn't for very long before our hands pulled back. Sometimes he barely caressed me, at other times his fingers lingered. Either way, his initial exploration of my cock seemed to have been replaced by inhibition. Not that he had rejected me, because he had not. Again and again his hands flowed under my shirt and brushed through my chest hair, fingered my nipples until they were hard lumps, even crept down my belly and underneath my belt. His fingertips came within inches of my newly bald crotch, but never any closer than that. Perhaps he was waiting for me to do something in return. "They're jackin', don't ya reckon?" I wondered aloud. "Sure sounds like it. I figure Pierce's doin' it `a bit `cause Brandon's bin so quiet." If I lifted my head and looked over my shoulder, I could barely make out the movement beneath the covers. It was regular and rhythmic, precisely the sort of motion that masturbating would make. If I could have done anything at that moment, it would have been to do that with Ty, to show him that pleasure could be obtained with nothing more than four fingers and thumb, although in his case it was more likely to be one finger and a thumb. Yet, as we watched and listened to the muffled sounds across the room, he eased away again and contented himself by touching my hand. Compared to Pierce and Vincent we were innocents. The more I thought about it, the more I began to think that it was entirely possible that I was the cause of Ty's reluctance to do more than merely than hold hands and fondle places that were safe territory. I was certainly nervous enough for both of us, but for good reason. With witnesses and a stupefied head, sexual arousal for me was about as far away as the race track at Homestead, Florida. So, instead of taking over and seducing him, which probably wouldn't have been very difficult given how he had been carrying on, I lay back and relaxed. Strange as it might seem, I even waited for sleep to creep up on both of us. It had been a long day and it was late, but sleep was as impossible as completing the Pepsi 400 on a single tank of gas that night. Imagine a worm that can't stop wriggling around and you have a good idea of what it was like to share the bed with Ty Kincaid. Ten-year-old boys are probably the same at sleep overs with their friends. Ty was simply too excited to settle down and sleep, especially when he was in bed with someone who only a few short hours ago he had admitted being in love with. It only got worse when we realized that the couple in the next bed were having sex. SEX! I finally realized that Brandon and Pierce were beyond making out and had moved on to having sex when Ty finally tugged at my zipper, slowly working it down a fraction of an inch at a time. I held my breath and waited, expecting that even the slightest indication of a reaction on my part would distract him. Then, the zipper was open and his fingers pushed between the serrated metal edges. My heart was racing, pounding with excitement, ready to burst a ventricle or an artery or whatever it was that made my penis throb mercilessly. "Jesus," I breathed out loudly. I had as much chance of controlling myself as winning at Daytona. "He wanna get out and play, don't he?" Ty asked urgently. "Of course." "Then, shut-the-fuck up, yer dum-ass." His fingers poked into the opening. His fingernails scratched in the cotton, scraping lightly against my erection. "Geez, Ty, I reckon yer speech is goin' backwards." "Like yer any better?" he whispered back. "Ya wanna have some fun or what, Terry?" "Yer horny ain't ya, dude?" "Ya wanna play with yer own?" "No way." "Then hush it. Don't want `em hearin', do ya?" "Okay." It was somewhere between a whisper and a sigh. The expression on his face was serene, contemplative as he touched the front of my briefs. He felt around it cautiously. The bulge was huge and hot and it was waiting to be freed. He absently stroked the cloth with a finger for a minute, still scratching with his fingernail. It was almost a dream, my fantasy coming true while the television and its cheap porn show droned on. The men exchanged positions, grunting like pigs in mud until they resumed the action. It was depressing in a way. Somewhere along the way, I realized that the sounds had changed in the bed beside us. Brandon and Pierce were moving around in the bed, whispering, making muffled sounds, getting something that they needed from the drawers beside the bed. I listened, trying to decide what the sounds meant. I wasn't about to ask what was going on. And so I lay there, waiting, listening, imagining what I could not see. I was happy, or at least I told myself I had a lot to be happy about. Sure, I would have liked to be on the top of the Nascar heap, a Sunday afternoon champion like Gordon Jeffries and his buddies, but now I had a sponsor that could change. However, that wasn't why I felt overjoyed. Everything else paled beside the fact that I finally had what I wanted all along. I had Ty lying in the bed beside me and that all that mattered. Yet, desire or lust, or whatever it was that drove men to want sex with boys, was building up inside me. It was like a volcano, getting ready to explode at the slightest opportunity. I tried to close my eyes and blot out the thoughts that would not go away. I even tried to pretend I was doing something else. The final straw came when Ty stopped scratching and cautiously extended his fingers again, moved up the few inches that it took to take hold of the elastic waistband of my briefs. He hesitated for a moment or two, just long enough to stop having second thoughts, then with some effort on his part, he levered it away. I felt the opening, the sudden freedom of my groin, the release of my erection from captivity. "Yeah," I sighed, or was it more of a groan? I felt his excitement. The quivering tremble that came from being so thrilled by what he was doing that his body responded instinctively. Again, his hand hesitated. I nodded slightly, giving permission, wanting to be bare before him. He giggled softly, and then his hand tugged gently. Another tug, then down. Somehow, he held it there, while his fingers extricated my erection from the confines of my briefs. He took my penis in his small hot hand. He didn't rub or stroke it. All he did was hold it. I groaned this time, releasing the stress from deep inside. For the first time, I sensed his ownership of that part of me, just as I wanted to possess his body. He was staking his claim to me, and like his teddy bear, he had to hold it in order to prove that it belonged to him. He did it to show that he was mine and that I was his. That I was his man, just as he was my boy? I liked that idea. I let out another long sigh. Holding my own cock never felt like this. "He's so damn big," Ty whispered in my ear. It was promptly followed by another of his muffled giggles. "What have you been feeding him?" "Not that dumb-ass kid cereal of Pierce's, that's for sure," I whispered back. He snorted as he tried to stop from laughing. "Crunch and shit! It'll probably make yer weenie smaller." "Probably," I agreed. I didn't think that Pierce would ever use that slogan in his marketing campaign. I flexed my penis so that it jerked inside his hand. Ty responded with a friendly tug that changed to a casual up and down motion. I longed for him to continue. What would I have given for him to finish what he started?. "Man, look at `em now." I allowed my attention to be distracted for a moment or two. The action on the television was frankly boring, but I could hardly say that, not when Ty seemed interested in what was happening. The men were stacked up like new trucks being transported cross-country. I wondered without much interest, what it was like to be the man in the middle. He was getting it in the ass at the same time as he pumped away at the man in front of him. Ty's fist closed to hold my penis prisoner. Yet, as wonderful as that intimate clasping was, I wanted more. The problem was that Ty now seemed reluctant to do anything more than hold it. The reason was very simple. It wasn't only Ty who was affected by what was going about four or five feet away. We both listened, waiting for the next round of sounds, each thinking private thoughts about private acts. There was no getting past what was happening in the other bed, or that Ty held my hardness in his hand. There, in the fourth-floor executive suite, room 435, a man who was about my age and a boy who was two years older than Ty, were having sex. No longer making out like they had been since the video started, but doing it, going all the way, sucking first, then fucking. It was almost impossible to believe, but as I lay on my back with Ty close by, I knew what they were doing. Indeed, part of me wanted to believe that it was for our benefit as much as any pleasure they could derive from making love with a couple of people looking on. There was no mistaking the sounds even though I had never heard them before. That soft mewing sound that came from Brandon, both pained and pleasured at the same time, the heaving movement that labored the breathing of an older person, the slap of flesh when they came together harder than they expected. I told myself it must have hurt, but there was no complaint from either one. Those sounds alone would have been enough to keep me awake all night. However, it was more than sound alone. The erratic jerking movement of the two bodies that disturbed the night left no doubt as to what was going on. They were hard at it. With that going on, the only logical thing for us to do seemed to be to do nothing. Just listen. I could not see much of anything without making an effort to sit up. Even then, the lights were out and they were beneath the covers, but what I heard left nothing to the imagination. And it wasn't only me who was consumed by curiosity. I could feel Ty's tension, his rapt attention finally bringing to end his exploratory touches. He held my erect penis tightly, not moving. "They're doin' it, Terry," Ty finally whispered from where he lay next to me. There was a strange urgency in his voice, yet he was inquisitive at the same time. I could tell that he was both curious and excited as much from the tremor in his voice as the fact that he had lifted up on his elbow to peer over my chest. Not that it helped to be much higher. If he had placed his hand in front of his face it would have been hard to see it in the dim bluish light that came from the television. "No shit!" "I hope not," Ty muttered under his breath. "Huh? Hope what?" I had no idea what he was whispering about. "No shit." From his constrained giggle, he seemed to think that was amusing. "I don't get it." "Geez! They're fuckin', Terry. So no shit? Get it? Ya don't wan no shit on yer dick." He laughed, but it was a feeble laugh. The amusement was gone. It came too close to reality. "Oh! Yeah, I s'pose so." "Duh!" It was strange that I had never considered the possibility of that happening when I finally did get the chance to have sex with Ty. And I would get my chance, because I was planning on winning a race in the very near future. However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was logical for there to be a mess afterwards, that it was probably going to be as messy as hell, doing that to another guy, man or boy. It stood to reason. I simply had never thought about it before. That wasn't quite true. I had always been troubled by what Bobbie did with other men. Somehow, I had convinced myself that it would be different with a boy. It would be love, not sex, and beautiful because of it. I grimaced in the dark. Would it be like that with Ty? Somehow I had always imagined making love to him would be sweet and fresh, and anything but a mess. I gazed into the darkness and tried to determine what was happening. Judging by the movement underneath the covers I decided that Pierce was on top of Brandon. It had to be that way because I couldn't think of any other way to do it. The missionary position for men and boys! Talk about naïve, but the only thing I could think of was that there was no way that Pierce would let Brandon do it to him. It had the same likelihood as me allowing Ty do it to me. Somewhere between nil and zero. It wasn't something that a man did. Even Bobbie didn't do that? He was the one on top, wasn't he? Besides, if I needed any further evidence, the groans were coming from Pierce and the whimpers were coming from Brandon. I figured I knew that much at least. "You reckon Pierce is doin' it to Brandon then?" I whispered nonetheless, ever ready to share my new found knowledge. "Duh! `course he's fuckin' doin' it ta Brando. Ya deaf or somethin', Terry? Maybe all that racin' has fucked yer hearin' fer good." "Very funny," I growled in his ear. I was tempted to lick it, but I was not at all convinced he would have enjoyed it. "Remember, I'm new to this, Ace." "Yer tellin' me." "What happened to Mister Diction?" "He's gone fer a holiday till t'morrow," Ty giggled. "Man, listen to `em go at it. Brando's sure getting' it good. Uh, uh, uh," he mimicked. It was true. I felt like a child, ignorant of the ways of the world, but a child who was very eager to learn all there was to learn. And all I had to do was listen to their muted whispers and the other sounds they made. Ty giggled again, softly yet with a slight tremor. "That pretty much settles it, don't it Terry. If he's stickin' Brando in the butt, I reckon he's a fag like Bobbie and you." He sounded happy, almost elated, as if a ponderous burden had been shifted from his narrow shoulders by the simple knowledge that Pierce was having sex with his nephew in the same way that Bobbie did with Trevor. I smiled in the darkness, suddenly realizing that I felt much the same way. I was relieved, mostly from knowing that men and boys really could have sex and both of them enjoy it. However, knowing what they were doing raised even more questions. There was no doubt about Bobbie being gay, but Pierce? Did that mean that I was gay as well? Ty seemed to think so, Even if older guys did nothing for me? Just boys! My libido had never extended to a male over the age of fourteen. In a way, I was still in love with little Gordon Jeffries, only he'd become Ty Kincaid along the way. I hadn't grown up, at least not how I was supposed to. I was in love with a ten-year-old boy. Did that make me gay, or something else? "He's gonna be real sore in tha mornin'," Ty commented under his breath. "That's gotta hurt somethin' awful." "Yeah, well like I said, Ace, yer talkin' to the wrong guy." "Duh, like I don't know yer a rookie. I hope you know more about drivin' that havin' sex with guys." He flicked my penis playfully with his finger and looked up to meet my eyes. In the darkness, I could barely see his pupils. Was it my imagination that I saw desire within? As he gazed at me, I couldn't help thinking that his need to be loved was barely held in check constrained. "Compared to me, yer the expert, Ace," I replied. "Yeah, well that ain't sayin' much. I told yer I messed `round with Paul a few times. That's all I ever done. I seen his old man do him tha' once." "Okay by me, Ace." "Terry?" "Yeah?" "If I am a fag, Terry,... I mean if I am `n all, ya figure I'm goin' to grow up to be like Trev?" I understood what he intended to say. As I saw it, Trevor was the guy on the bottom and Bobbie used him like a woman. I didn't want that for Ty. "There's a lot worse ways of livin' yer life, Ty." I took a deep breath and asked myself the same question. Ty and Trevor were different people, just as Bobbie and I were different people. We would have to find our own way. That night was definitely a learning experience for me. Even though I'd never done anything like it, or even witnessed it before, I appreciated the theoretical possibilities of having anal sex with a boy. That was why I teased Ty about it so often, I think. The strange thing was that even though I realized it was men and boys did to show their love, and happily accepted that I would likely do the same thing to Ty if the opportunity ever arose, it had never sunk completely in. Right next to me was unavoidable in-your-face noisy sex. Part of me was shocked that they would go all the way with us in the room. Part of me wanted to believe that I was wrong, that they really weren't fucking, but there was only one reason why a boy gasped and whimpered like that, why bodies slapped rhythmically together, then stopped abruptly only to start again. They were certainly making it last, a good hard fuck that would make them sleep until noon the next day. As I thought about it, listening intently, trying to imagine what Pierce and Brandon were feeling, I tried to convince myself that I should not be so surprised. It was only what two guys did after all. Being around Bobbie and Trevor had taught me that. But fucking a boy in the ass? Not just any boy for me, but Ty Kincaid. It was no longer a remote concept like it had been before that night. It was real, immediate, and inescapable. It was happening in the video and in the bed beside me. The fact was that the basic sex act was satisfying for men and boys. Despite Ty's adverse reaction, men had sex with boys because it gave both of them pleasure. "Oh God," Pierce growled. "Just keep doing that Brandon, and I'll shoot in no time." "Urrr, don't,- not yet,-.go slow,-I need you,-." "Me too. Oh God, you little horn dog. You're tight baby. You want it faster?" "Soon. Oh yesss," he hissed. "Just go slowww. Oh, oh yeah." "Like this?" "Ohhhhyeahh. No! Not ready,- Go slow for a while. I don't want it to end." "It's going to end soon. Damn, I'm so close." "Yeah, me too. Keep goin' slow." "God, you feel so hot. I could die happy fucking your beautiful little butt." "Ohhhh! Oh yeah! I like it!" "Can't hold on much longer, Brando. Jesus! Oh God. Here it comes. Fuck! Oh fuck! Yeah, that feels so good. Squeeze it out, baby. Squeeze out my cum." Cum? The word shrieked in my mind when I realized what it meant. Even if Pierce and Brandon were related as uncle and nephew, and until then I had no reason to believe they were not, it was incest. However, incest was meaningless. Who cared? Not if they were in love. And they were. I'd been around them long enough to be certain. As I thought about it over the next few minutes, it didn't much matter whether they were uncle and nephew, or any man and boy who were more than just good friends. The sounds faded, then stopped completely. I heard whispers, nothing more than muffled sighs. "Ya hear that?" Ty's lips were pressed to my ear. "Yeah." "He shot up Brando's butt!" Ty exclaimed in disbelief. "Yeah, I know." "Gross huh?" "I suppose. I didn't hear Brandon complain, did you?" "I guess not," Ty admitted. "Pretty yucky though, havin' that slimy stuff inside ya." "It's probably no worse for him than if Pierce fucked some woman." "I s'pose. Hey, they're kissin' now, ain't they?" "Sounds like it," I agreed. "Man, that's like what Paul `n his old man done after it, only the fuckin' bastard forced Paul ta do it. Slobberin' all over his face and stuff. It was gross." "I reckon it's a whole different matter with them, Ty." A moment later, I added, "They love each other." "Yeah, I know it," Ty said quietly. I waited, worrying about what was going through his mind. Before we had talked on the beach there would have been nothing to worry about, but now his neurons were connecting, or whatever it was that happened in the brain when a person put two and two together and came up with,- exactly what I had no idea. We loved each other too. No big deal, right? I was too old to have an epiphany like that. After what we'd said to each other on the beach, it was out in the open where we had to deal with it. I felt like I was rushing into something awfully important, without any preparation in advance, where the slightest mistake spelled disaster. You couldn't race a car like that and live through a season. It was so easy to end up on the fence. I had no idea what I was doing. Seeing Brandon and Pierce together only made it worse. Ty's hand squeezed my bloated cock without warning. Suddenly, he seemed much bolder than before. His fingers pressed into my crotch, feeling the hardness that would not go away. His thumb creased the tip, sliding in the wetness that had formed there. It was oozing out. He blew a stream of warm air across my cheek. His fingers extended down onto my scrotum, searching for my testicles. Then, back to my penis, scratching along the shaft until he reached the tip again. "He's always ready fer fun, ain't he?" he whispered in the darkness. "Yeah." I took a risk. I took a deep breath. I hoped I was doing the right thing. "He'd like it more if you were touchin' him without yer clothes getting' in tha way." "Yeah, him `n me both." "Well, what's keepin' ya, Ace?" "Nuthin'." He wriggled closer, squeezing my bulge under his cupped hand. "Not now, anyways, Terry." "Why's that?" "'cause I'm happy." I wasn't sure what he meant by that, but it really didn't matter. Maybe it was lying beside me, maybe it was the possibility of being adopted, maybe,- I gave up wondering what was going through his handsome head when I felt his lips brush my cheek. He was going to kiss me. I controlled my urge to meet his kiss with my lips. He barely touched me before he drew away. My hand eased onto his thigh, searching under the loose leg of his shorts. I found his tiny balls, steamy, sticky, loose, hot. No sign of his cock, not until my fingers crept higher towards his belly. He was hard, hot, horny like I was. A boy-bone that felt like Detroit steel sheathed in silk. Nothing could be softer, except his balls. "It feels like yer ready fer some fun too?" I murmured. I stroked his boy-cock and he sighed and pushed it harder into my hand. His grip tightened on my shaft, squeezing. "Duh! I got a hold of yer eight inches and ya got a hold of my four inches. It feels good, don' it? Even if mine's half tha' size." I didn't bother correcting him. Holding Ty's cock was like holding my finger. It was unrelenting in its stiffness, and about the same size. "Can I take ya shorts off, Ace?" "If ya wanna." Ty smirked. "But only if I get ta take yers off too." I flipped him onto his back, fumbling as I tried to undo the knotted cord that kept his shorts up. They were still low on his rump from when he'd mooned Pierce so the cord was tight and hard to unfasten. There was laughter from the other side of the room, but it didn't bother me. They were watching. It was only fair. Besides, I was having too much fun to quit. Finally, I got the cord undone. There was a line of Velcro under it. I ripped it open, making a sound like something tearing. Another giggle that had to come from Brandon. "There goes his pants," Pierce chuckled. Then, grabbing handfuls of cloth on either side of his hips, I dragged his shorts down, down his thighs, down to his knees, down to his feet before I stopped. Then off! I sent them sailing across the room. I think they hit the far wall. Brandon laughed and I heard the wet slap of flesh. I didn't give myself time to think. For all I knew they were sitting up and watching. I was on a roll. I straddled Ty, sitting above his knees. No doubt they could see me in the glow from the television set, but who cared? Not me! Ty grinned up at me shamelessly naked from the waist down. His dick pointed north, begging to be touched, maybe even sucked. I would do it too, but not while he still had clothes on. I tickled his sides for a second, going for his armpits before he clamped his arms down I pushed the shirt higher, fingering his tiny nipples on the way. He helped by sitting up a bit, lifting his arms up to assist. I dragged the shirt past his head. It joined the shorts on the other side of the room. "And there goes his shirt," Pierce added. "We're down to bare skin for one of them." he made it sound like he was calling a close race. "Now you!" Ty demanded, ignoring the audience. His voice was urgent, crackling with excitement. >From where he lay, he reached up, extending his skinny brown arms to my neck. His fingers began to unfasten the single button of my polo-shirt. He licked his lips. Hazy light flickered across his face as the television droned on. How long could guys have sex for without a break? Not that long! It had to be pretend. It was also boring. It would have been more fun to watch a tennis match. It was right up there with golf, in my opinion. If people wanted thrills, they turned to Nascar. Ty's hands moved to my sides, tugging the shirt up, then gathering the folds, he lifted higher, bunching the shirt at my armpits. I leaned over him, realizing that my cock was pressed against his lower belly, against his little cock. It felt good to be that close to him. I could have stayed like that all night. His hands tugged and awkwardly worked the shirt over my arms and shoulders, past my head. I lifted up again. In the dim light I saw a smear of shiny wetness crossing from his lower belly past his navel to halfway up his chest. Ty grinned proudly. He gazed up at me, his eyes wide, his big dark pools, taking everything in. "Now yer pants, Terry." He said it loud enough that the people in the next bed heard. Pierce stifled a laugh. "Sounds like Terry's getting stripped off ready for action," he said aloud. I almost said `fuck you'. I glanced across the room. For the first time, I saw them, Brandon above Pierce, sort of sitting above his hips, but lying so their chests were together. His knees were outside Pierce's hips. I couldn't remember them changing position. I gave a moment's thought to how they could have had sex in that position. It didn't make a lot of sense, yet my intuition was very clear on one thing. Pierce's cock was still inside Brandon. Ty pulled on my arm, letting me know that he wanted me to lie down again. I moved onto my side, looking at his small dark body as if seeing it for the first time. There were lines of ribs, the firmness of future six-pack muscles in his taut brown belly, his rigid unwavering cock poking up. His fingers came to my belt buckle. It was a lot easier to unfasten than the cord that held his shorts up. The metal button took longer because my belly got in the way, but then my pants were open at the front. I lifted my body up awkwardly. Ty grinned and shoved my pants down my thighs. He couldn't push them any further without moving from where he lay beside me. Suddenly, he spun around, coming to his knees. He clambered over my, pulling my pants and briefs down as he headed towards my feet. His butt, pinched and pale pointed at my face. That beautiful butt, small and firm, and everything that a butt was supposed to be. I licked my lips as the thought of what was between his cheeks. It was positively fuckable. "What ya staring at?" Ty asked over his shoulder, as if he didn't know. "Well, ah'm looking at ya, ain't I?" I laughed. "Mister tattoo butt." "Next time I'm puttin' some on yer butt, Terry." After tossing my pants on the floor next to the bed, Ty bounced back up and flopped down on top of me. I liked him lying them, his head on my chest, his little boy-dick pressed alongside my man-cock. It was how life was supposed to be. "It feels good, but just so ya know, yer takin' advantage of me," I teased. "Huh?" "'cause I had a bit too much ta drink." "A bit?" Ty raised his voice a notch. "Yer drunk as a skunk." He didn't let go easily. Neither did I. I kept thinking, `this is the way it's supposed to be.' He was a boy's boy, a man's boy, everything that a boy should be. No wonder Pierce wanted him to become the All-American boy. Ty lifted up slightly and his hand slipped between us. Again, his fingers and thumb closed around my cock, possessing me again. I could tell from his grip that he wasn't about to let go in the near future. Pierce laughed suddenly from the other bed. "It sounds like I'm not the only one who's being taken advantage of," he said after he regained his breath. "It's the only way," Brandon added. Even though he sounded tired, his voice was still quivering with excitement. "Hey Ty?" "Yeah." He didn't take his hand away. Instead, his thumb rubbed slowly back and forth across the gaping oozing slit. I trembled beneath his touch, straining to make it even harder, harder for him. "You guys gonna do it or what?" Brandon asked from the darkness. " Ty looked down at me, his face so close to mine that all I saw were his big black eyes. He was asking the same question in his own way. At that point, all I had to do was say yes, or nod my head, or roll him onto his back and do what I wanted to do. He was beyond saying `no'. "No," I said quietly. "I thought you guys were getting in the mood for some action. It sounded pretty hot and heavy there for a while. You mean you aren't going to do it?" Pierce asked. "I got some KY here if you need it," Brandon added suggestively. "We are. But not tonight." I smiled. "TY and me have a deal, see. When the time's right, I'm going nail his ass well and truly. I promise I'll call you when I do. Until then, his butt's off limits. That's right, ain't it Ty?" "Uh huh. If Terry wins a race he gets to do it, see. It's a centive or whatever it's called fer him to try real hard to win." "Incentive?" Pierce asked. "Yeah, that's it. Incentive!" "I like that idea. I like it a lot." Pierce laughed. "Hey, you know something, Terry? I bet it'll send cereal sales soaring." I reached between us, finding a hot hard Ty junior. With my other hand on his back I lifted up, arching into him, pursing my lips. I was going to kiss him, kiss him properly, not just play lip-games with him. I felt his arm move behind my neck. His lips pressed onto mine. They were firm and soft at the same time, like the rest of his body, like the throbbing little thing I held in my hand. We parted quickly. My heart pounded like it did after a near collision on the track. It was a glancing blow, but the kind of impact that could send a car careening out of control if a driver overreacted. I had to work hard to breath. "Oh Ty,- Oh man. That was good," I murmured. He didn't reply. His arm tightened again, pulling our heads back together. Our lips came together again His hand squeezed tightly, squeezing out more of my oozing fluid only to smeared by his slowly circling thumb. His lips moved against mine, making little kisses, not really passionate, but not tentative either. Finally, I did the only thing I could think of. I pressed my tongue against his lips. I wasn't sure of what I wanted, or why I did it. Maybe it was just to make them wet instead of dry. I moved the tip of my tongue back and forth between his lips, not pushing inside, not without an invitation. Our lips began to move in unison. His arm became my pillow, kept my head where it was, his hand clasping my shoulder. His other hand started rubbing, very slowly, going up and down a few inches. "They're making out at least," Brandon observed. "Give them time, Brando," Pierce said. "Ty's a lot younger than you were when you started." "I was nearly eleven when you fucked me the first time." "Yes, you were. But we'd also spent a lot of time together." They were listening, but it was only fair. We kept on kissing, still not going beyond touching lips. Neither of us cared. Suddenly, the boy who had been lying over me was lying half over me. One lean leg was pushed between my thighs, his groin squashed against my hip so I had to take my hand away. Ty's warmth flowed into me, enlivening me, driving the alcohol haze into the distance. His hand kept moving on my cock, relentlessly up and down. His thumb stroked across the head, then pulled back to brace his fingers as his hand slid down my cock. Longer strokes, using friction the way friction was supposed to be used. It wasn't anything like jerking off. It was deliberate torture by a ten-year-old boy. My balls drew up, wrinkled into a knot. His body began to hump, rubbing his engorged little sex against me while his hand made corresponding movements on my cock. And still, his indulgent lips stayed over mine, darting from side to side, pecking, adding drool of his own so that our lips became slippery, sliding, not sticking. He was teaching himself how to kiss, discovering how to pleasure me, how to satisfy himself. "Turn the TV off on your way, Brando," Pierce said quietly from the other side of the room. Only then did we break apart. Brandon's shadow crossed the room on the way to the bathroom. His naked body was illuminated by the television. He looked none the worse for wear, although one hand was cupped behind him, just in case, I expected. He had to be full of Pierce's semen. He'd been fucked for nearly ten minutes, but it didn't appear to bother him one bit. He switched the television off, but just before he did so, he turned and grinned at us. Then, the room was dark except for what little light managed to enter through a narrow slit between the curtains. The toilet flushed. Brandon padded back into the room, got back into bed, settled down next to Pierce. "Okay?" Pierce asked. He sounded concerned. "Uh huh. Not much came out." "I'm not surprised. It was in all the way. I put the towel down just in case you leak a bit. How's it feel?" "It's just a bit sore, that's all." "Sorry champ. Can't help that. We'll take it easy tomorrow." Then, silence again. Ty went back to his kissing game. It was almost possible to convince myself that it was just the two of us in the room. Yet, as his hand rubbed along my cock and his lips danced on my mouth I could tell something was bothering him. Finally, I eased his head away. "What's wrong, Ace?" I whispered. "Nuthin'." "Yeah there is. Ya wanna talk?" Ty shrugged. It took a few moments before he said anything. I had to listen hard to catch what he said. "What they done,..." "Yeah? It bothers ya, huh?" "Sort of. Terry? He liked it." "Brandon?" "Yeah. He liked it, didn't he?" He wanted me to reassure him, but I really didn't know what to say. He'd watched another boy having sex once before, and there had been blood. The boy was his best friend and he had screamed in pain. It had been rape, not love. All I could be certain of was that having sex with Pierce hadn't hurt Brandon more than making him slightly uncomfortable. It was reassuring. "I guess," I ventured. "Why?" "I don't know. I reckon that's how it is when ya love someone a lot, Ace." "Ya wanna stick me, don't ya Terry?" "Yeah, I guess so. Maybe one day, huh? Not tonight though. When ya wanna do it, I'll be more than willin'." Ty hugged me. "I love ya, a lot, Terry," he admitted shyly. "Yeah, I know that, babe. I love you too." "I'll do it when ya win, okay?" He looped his little finger around mine and shook. "Pinky swear, okay? You can fuck me all you want then, I promise." "Okay." "Ya want me to git ya off, Terry?" "Not tonight. It's late. Ya need ta sleep dude. So do I." Ty peeled himself away after a final parting squeeze. "I know I promised I was goin' to suck him, so I'm takin' care `a `im in tha mornin'," he promised. "Good night beautiful." "Terry,-" "Yeah?" "Don't ever leave me. Please?" "I won't," I said. I kissed his forehead, then each eyebrow. "If ya do, Terry, I'll kill ma-self." "Me too, kid." "Terry?" "Yeah, Ace?" "Ya think she'll really give me up to you?" "Yeah,- she will if I have anything to do with it." "Terry?" "Yeah?" "Don't make me go back to her? Promise me ya won't, Terry?" "I promise, Ace." I shouldn't have promised, but I did. That was the golden rule I lived by. Never promise something you couldn't deliver. However, I intended to do whatever it took to keep Ty with me from then on, even if it meant giving up racing all together and moving to Canada, or Mexico, or someplace where we'd never be found. He was never going back to that dump in Florida. I fell asleep thinking of the all the work waiting for me in Asheville, imagining Bobbie taking Ty's go-kart apart piece by piece, the same way he did with my car. In a single night, my life had changed. There were decisions to be made, things that had to be done in order to get the team competitive, but I couldn't decide what needed to be done first. For the first time, I had a real sponsor, largely thanks to Ty Kincaid. Ty Kincaid, the all-American boy, the boy whose beautiful face and sexy tattooed chest would soon start appearing on cereal boxes across the country.