Date: Sun, 16 Jan 2005 06:19:08 EST From: Justin0398@aol.com Subject: Stonebridge Days 06 by Justin Davis (M/M, M/T, oral, anal) The following story contains graphic sexual scenes between young males and older males. If material of this nature offends you then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age in most states you are not allowed to read this story by law. This story is purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to person's living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental. Additionally, the actions of the characters in this story are in no way intended to show approval of, or give sanction to, their actions. The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it has been posted, without the consent of the author. Positive comments are always welcome and you may e-mail them to Justin0398@aol.com Stonebridge Days By Justin Davis Chapter Eleven I hadn't really planned an attempt to lead the conversation at breakfast the next morning. The boys were seated at the table, along with Gerald and I. With the exception of a few odd glances between Brandon and Chris, not much was out of the ordinary. There was little conversation going on, so, ever the motivator, I decided to say something. "So, did you two get to catch up on old times last night? I know Brandon is glad that you came," I said. Gerald almost spit out his mouthful of coffee and Brandon and Chris exchanged glances. Quickly, Gerald grabbed his napkin and held it over his mouth. I cut my eyes toward him wondering what I could have said that caused such a reaction. "I'm sure you guys had a lot to go over after so many years," I added. "Oh yeah! I got to go over a lot of things," Brandon said, then glanced over at Chris. Chris, then Brandon, burst into howls of laughter. Gerald lost it and began to laugh so hard that I thought he was going to fall out of his chair. As for me, I could feel my face began to grown warm, knowing that I was sitting there blushing with a stupid look on my face. I waited until the laughter died down and the three of them were looking at me before I spoke. "Well, now that you've all had a good laugh at my expense, would anyone like more French Toast?" I asked, sounding very much like James Coco in "La Cage' au Faux," and rose from the table and headed toward the kitchen counter. Gerald got up from the table and came over and held me in his arms in a second. "Ryan, come on, loosen up." He said, hugging me, but still snickering. "I was just trying to stimulate the conversation." I whispered softly in an aside. "Ryan, dear. I think all the stimulation necessary has already been done," Gerald said, and gave me that grin of his. I looked at Gerald and burst out laughing. He did as well. In fact we both began to laugh so hard we were holding our sides. As for Brandon and Chris, they sat at the table, like two statues with puzzled looks on their faces, wondering what the hell the two of us could possibly be laughing about. Brandon and Chris spent that Saturday at the beach and Gerald and I spent the better part of the day in the sack, then took in dinner and a movie that evening. As for Sunday, all four of us spent most of the afternoon at the mall shopping. Monday morning came, and since I didn't have to go into work until late that morning, I took Chris to his audition at Disney World, dropping him off at the gate. Brandon had already made arrangements with Chris to pick him up so I didn't have to worry about that. Chris got the job at Disney World and for the next couple of weeks things went along rather well. Brandon took on the responsibility of taking Chris to work and picking him up and I began to help Chris search for an affordable place to live. All hell broke loose the second Sunday morning in July. As usual, I had crawled out of bed to begin fixing breakfast for the four of us, leaving Gerald asleep as I usually did. Immediately, when I opened the fridge I realized that I didn't have enough eggs or milk to make the omelets I had intended to make. So, I headed for the store. When I returned, I was a little surprised to discover that Brandon's truck was gone from his parking space but then remembered that he had told me he had a yard to do that morning. Slightly disgusted at myself that I had forgotten, I gathered up the sack of groceries and headed toward the apartment, being careful to be as quiet as I could when I entered the door so as not to awaken Gerald and Chris. "Oh yes! Oh god! Yes!" I heard a familiar voice intone from our bedroom, as I entered the door. It was Chris! "Fuck me! Oh God!" the litany continued as I sat the bag of groceries down on the kitchen counter. My feet felt like they were made of lead as I slowly walked toward the bedroom that Gerald and I shared, my heart pounding in my chest as I went. I stood motionless in the open doorway horrified at what I saw. Chris had those long dancer's legs of his clear back to his ears and Gerald was thrusting in and out of his butt like there was no tomorrow, his groin smacking Chris' bubble butt with each inward thrust. I was so overwhelmed with rage at what I saw I grabbed the nearest object I could, a large vase, and threw it across the room at the two of them. "You son of a bitch!" I screamed, as the flower vase shattered upon the wall above the headboard. Instantly, the two broke apart in horror and came out of the bed. "You mother fucking asshole!' I screamed at Gerald. "Ryan, I'm sorry. I------" "Get the hell out! Get the hell outta here!" I shouted at Chris, interrupting Gerald. Naked, his half-hard dick flopping as he went, Chris ran past me and back toward Brandon's bedroom, closing and locking the door once he got there. "Ryan, please, really, you don't understand I----" "Shut up you God damned mother fucker! Get the hell out! Now!" I screamed, pointing toward the front door of the apartment. Quickly, Gerald gathered up his boxers and put them on and then began to hurriedly grab what he could of his clothes that were scattered about upon the floor. "Now! Before I do something I'll go to jail for!" I screamed. "Ryan, really I'm sorry!" Gerald said, as he headed out the bedroom door carrying what he had gathered up of his clothes. "Fuck you, you bastard!" I shouted after him, tears streaming down my cheeks, and picked up one of my tennis shoes, that lay nearby, then threw it at him as he exited through the bedroom doorway. I stood in the middle of the bedroom breathing heavily and I heard the front door to the apartment open and close. I wanted to kill somebody, anybody, at that point. I reached for the picture frame sitting on the dresser that contained Gerald's picture, picked it up, and then threw it at the far wall, where it shattered much as the vase had done. I sat down upon the edge of the bed and sobbed. I had lost boy friends before. Yet, never had I been so disappointed in any of them as I was at Gerald at that moment. "Ryan, Ryan!" I heard Brandon's voice call frantically, as he came through the front door of the apartment. "Oh my God!" Brandon exclaimed, as he stood in the bedroom doorway looking at me, the breakage, and the scars on the bedroom wall. I looked up at him. I couldn't speak. "Ms. Jacobs didn't want her yard mowed after all. I came back. Gerald ran past me to his car as I pulled up. What the hell happened?" He asked. "Ask your fucking cousin!" I shot back, motioning my head toward Brandon's bedroom. "Oh fuck!" Brandon exclaimed, and headed back toward his bedroom. I remained seated upon the edge of the bed, still stunned. "Chris, open the door. Let me in!" I heard Brandon's voice say. I heard the door open then close again. Eventually, I composed myself enough to go to the kitchen, pour myself a cup of coffee, and sit down at the table. Still stunned, I sat there thinking of what to do about Gerald's things. I decided I would ask Brandon to take them to him in a couple of days. I had no desire to see Gerald again. "Ryan, Chris is really scared," Brandon said, as he entered the kitchen. "He should be!" I replied. "He wants to talk to you." Brandon said. "Well, I don't want to talk to the bastard!" "Ryan, please. I really think you should listen to him." "Not now. Just leave me the fuck alone." I replied, holding up my hand. Brandon went away and I sat thinking about the good times Gerald and I had had and all the words of love he had expressed. I began to cry again as I thought about them and how cheap they all seemed at that moment. Sometime later, Brandon again appeared in the kitchen doorway. "Chris is getting all his stuff together. I'm gonna take him to this guy's house he's met at work. He thinks he can stay there until he gets a place." "Sounds like a very fucking good idea!" I commented. Brandon went back to his room and I got up and went over and sat upon the couch. It had been a long time since I had felt so low. I heard the door to Brandon's bedroom open again. "I'm taking Chris over to Nathan's apartment. I'll be back in a little while," Brandon said. I looked up at Brandon and Chris. Chris had obviously been crying as well. He turned his head away from me. "Well, you have something to say? Anything!" I said. "Ryan, I'm really sorry. It really was all my fault. I'm a whore! I can't help it! I just had to get into Gerald's pants. He really tried hard not to but I kept on. I figured we'd been done before you got back." "Well, you were wrong!" "I know. Please give him another chance. He really loves you," Chris responded. "Why, Chris? Why did you have to ruin it all?" I asked, tears running down my cheeks again. "I told you. I'm a whore. I can't help myself. I'm sorry," Chris replied. "Brandon, get him out of here!" I said, in a disgusted tone, waving my hand toward the front door of the apartment. I felt sorry for Brandon when he returned. I know it was like walking on eggshells around the place for a few days. He tried to be as sympathetic and understanding as he could, offering up all kinds of comforting words. Yet, I just wasn't in the mood to hear them. Gerald tried to call me several times at work. I refused to take the calls. Brandon, too, ran interference at the apartment by answering the phone there. I stayed in a funk all that week. It was Brandon who drew me out of it. "You know you're being too hard on Gerald," he said, the next Saturday evening as we sat down to dinner. "What!" I exclaimed, not believing he would remotely come to Gerald's defense. "I said, you are being too hard on him. He had a right to be the same way about you you know," Brandon replied. "What the fuck do you mean?" I asked angrily. "Me! You! Remember?" Brandon replied. Immediately, I remembered how Gerald had reacted when I had told him about the sex marathon that Brandon and I had had when he and Mark had broken up. He'd been totally understanding and even excited for me about the whole episode. "Yeah!" I replied. "I think you should at least talk to him." "Maybe, but not right now," I replied. "Now please hand me the butter," I replied. Eventually, I did accept Gerald's call at work. However, I refused to talk about the issue over the phone. I told him we needed to meet somewhere and talk. He suggested the Starbucks' in the mall. I agreed. I would be lying if I said the meeting wasn't uncomfortable for us both. I sat and listened as Gerald explained the events of that Sunday morning and I felt both sympathetic and hurt at the same time. Chris was a good-looking kid, and in a way, I couldn't blame Gerald for ultimately giving in to his advances. Both of us agreed that we needed to start our relationship from scratch. No seeing each other on a regularly scheduled basis for the time being, we needed to rebuild a mutual trust brick by brick again. Through the rest of July, and into August, Gerald and I dated off and on. It was some time before we both felt comfortable with each other enough to have sex again. When we did, it was like it was for the first time. Cautiously at first, then more passionate. Finally, as I entered Gerald, it was as if each of us wanted to meld into one again. After that, we began to have great sex as often as we could. School started in late August and Brandon began his senior year in high school. Soccer, aptitude tests, and discussions about colleges and career occupied the fall term. Not unlike me at his age, Brandon had not a clue of what he wanted to do after high school. I figured that would come in time. For his eighteenth birthday, I gave Brandon the money to have his nipples pierced. I couldn't believe that was all that he wanted. As usual, I tried to talk him out of it. I couldn't. We compromised again. I insisted that I take him to the same salon where he had had his ears done. He agreed. After the redness and soreness went away, I had to agree that the gold nip rings stood out splendidly against the dark walnut color of his nipples and looked sexy as hell, not to mention the gold navel ring. I had given in on the navel ring at the last minute. Gerald entertained the idea of doing the same thing one evening at dinner. The look I gave him ended that. I loved him as he was. The diamond stud in his right ear that I had given him was enough. That Thanksgiving, an incident happened that impacted Brandon greatly, not to mention the entire high school. Mark had come home from college for Thanksgiving and he and some of his friends from high school had gone to CoCo that Saturday. As the police report would state later, all of them had consumed way more alcohol than the law allows. In short, they were all bombed beyond belief. On the way back along the turnpike, Mark lost control of his car in a rain shower and it careened off the road into a ditch and smashed head on into a concrete abutment. Everyone, with the exception of one of the freshman players on the soccer team, who was in the back seat, was killed. Brandon was devastated. I held Brandon while he wept. Gerald called in sick and came. Both of us, as best we could, tried to help Brandon through his grief. Gerald and I knew that Mark had been Brandon's first love. Brandon refused to go to the funeral. I didn't push. He did go by the funeral home for the wake that Mark's parents had the night before the funeral. I was proud of Brandon for going and Gerald and I tried the best we could to comfort him when he came home that evening even more upset than before. After about a month, Brandon began to return to his normal, happy, self. Well, almost. He seemed like much less of a teenager and more of young adult after the incident. He began to talk seriously about college and a career, and in general seemed more concerned about the welfare of others around him, especially Gerald and I. As Christmas approached, Gerald suggested that going on a trip might be good medicine for the three of us, especially Brandon. A friend of his owned a beach house in St. Thomas and wouldn't be using it in either December or January. Gerald suggested we spend Christmas there. Of course, I thought it was an excellent idea. However, I wasn't sure how Brandon would feel about it. Surprisingly, Brandon thought it was an excellent idea when I approached him on the subject. So, I took three weeks vacation time and the three of us flew to St. Thomas for the Christmas break. The beach house was in an excellent location, being located with several others in a rather large cove, and it was very well equipped much as Gerald had said it would be. However, what Gerald had neglected to mention was that it and the others were located along a stretch of beach that was infamous as a nude beach that was used by residents and locals alike. It was a revelation that came soon enough. While Gerald and I were unpacking everything Brandon had slipped on his swim trunks and had gone off to check out the beach. He had only been gone about twenty minutes or so when he returned. "You ain't gonna believe this shit!" Brandon said, as he entered the door. "Believe what?" I asked. "Well, I went walking down the beach a ways to check things out and there's quite a few people. "Oh, is it crowded?" I asked. "Nah, not really. Not like the beach at CoCo." "What then?" I asked. "Ryan, almost nobody's got any clothes on!" "What!" I exclaimed, and looked at Gerald. "Shit! I forgot about that," Gerald replied. Come to find out, as Gerald explained the situation to Brandon and I, the beach was really more of a clothing optional beach than it was a nude one. However, most of the residents, as well as the locals, who frequented the area, did choose the no clothing option. Brandon's attitude about it all was simple. "See you guys later!" he said, heading back out the door after shucking off his swim trunks and tossing them over onto one of the chairs. "I think we might better remind him to use some of this," Gerald said, holding up one of the bottles of sun block we had brought with us. "No joke!" I replied, thinking of what Brandon would look like with the intimate parts of his anatomy sun burned. Although I was used to the tropical climate of Florida, the sand, the foliage, the color of the water were all different. In short, it was a tropical paradise and from the beginning I savored every minute of it. By the end of the first week, Brandon had been out in the sun so much that he had lost his tan lines and his entire body took on that deep bronze color that seemed so natural for him. Gerald and I did our best, as well, to soak up as much of the beach and sunshine as we could and I eventually got over my shyness about being nude in front of others. Sometime, about the beginning of the second week, Gerald and I were stretched out on the blanket soaking up the sun. I was reading a new novel I had brought and he was reading and editing a manuscript he was working on about Early American pottery. Neither of us noticed Brandon walk up to where we were lying. "Hey guys! This is Antonio," Brandon's voice said. We both turned and focused our attention on Brandon who was standing there with a nude, very darkly tanned, almost black, Hispanic looking male about his own age with about the same physical build as his own. Most notable was the fact that Antonio had green eyes, perfect white teeth, and sexual equipment that out-rivaled Gerald's. Simply put, the kid was hung like a moose with low-hanging bull-nuts to match. "Antonio, this is Ryan and this is Gerald," Brandon said. "Nice to meet you!" Antonio replied. "Nice to meet you as well," I said. "Same here," Gerald said. "Nice to meet you both," Antonio said, with somewhat of an accent. "We're gonna go up to the beach house and get something to drink. That okay?" Brandon asked. "Sure!" I replied. "Come on!" Brandon said, and the two of the headed toward the beach house. "Seems like a pleasant enough sort of kid," I remarked, as the two walked away. "Yeah, he does. I'm sure Brandon was drawn to his personality immediately," Gerald remarked. I looked at Gerald and he had that look on his face that I had seen so many times before. Immediately, I burst out laughing, knowing that Antonio's personality was not what Gerald was talking about. "I wonder if Brandon remembers that the ice is in a separate cooler?' I said, and started to get up off of the blanket. "I don't think Brandon is interested in ice," Gerald replied. "Huh?" I replied, looking at him. "I think you and I better talk a little walk down the beach. I suspect it will take them awhile to finish their sodas," Gerald said, then winked. "Oh!" I replied, and looked at the two climbing the steps of the beach house. "You think Antonio is gay?" I asked. "I know he is," Gerald replied. "You sure?" I said. "You didn't notice the pendant he had on his gold neck chain?" Gerald asked. "No." I replied. "Two inter-locked circles with arrows." Gerald said. "Ah! Maybe we should take that walk," I replied. Teens being what they are, Brandon rarely ever mentioned anything but the skimpiest details about anyone with whom he was having sex. So, you can I wasn't surprised that Brandon was vague the next morning at breakfast when the conversation turned to Antonio. "So, you meeting up with Antonio this morning?" I asked. "Yeah, he's got a surfboard and we're gonna try out the waves, maybe throw the Frisbee. Just bum around," Brandon replied. "Well, Gerald and I are going to go into town and do some shopping. We'll be gone until after lunch just in case you two want to be alone here for awhile," I said. "That's cool. We'll probably just hang at the beach though," Brandon replied, then downed the last of his orange juice, got up from the table, and took both the juice glass and his empty plate to the sink. "Well, I just wanted you to know it's okay if you do," I said. "Nah, thanks away!" Brandon said, as he headed toward the door grabbing a beach towel on the way. "Okay, see you this afternoon then," I said. "See yah later, Brandon" Gerald said. "Yeah, see yah later!" Brandon replied, then went out the door. "Would you like some more coffee?" I asked Gerald. "Sure, l'll get us both some." he replied, and got up from the table. "Oh by the way!" Brandon's voice said, prompting Gerald and I to look toward the doorway where Brandon had his head poked just inside. "Just in case you guys are wondering. I do plan to let him fuck me again a whole bunch. But, my butt's sore as hell right now! His thing is huge when it's hard! Bye!" he said, then wiggled his eyebrows, and was gone again. Gerald and I looked at each other and burst out laughing, for without a doubt Antonio's cock in your butt would definitely take some getting used to. Evidently Brandon did, because for the remaining two weeks of our stay in St. Thomas, Brandon and Antonio were inseparable. Not much of a detailed sexual nature was said by Brandon again, although Gerald and I knew that they were having sex as often as they could, much like Gerald and I. I will always remember the moon lit night Gerald and I made love on the beach under the stars. It was one of those rare occasions when we each bottomed for the other and I will never forget the look in his eyes as he thrust into me, nor his passionate kiss as his warm essence flowed into me. Oh, there were other times we had sex to be sure. However, that one was especially memorable. On our last full day in St. Thomas, Brandon and Antonio spent the entire day together. As a parting gift, Antonio gave Brandon the pendant from his neck chain, Brandon has it even to this day, and Brandon gave Antonio a multi-colored, coral, necklace he had picked out at one of the shops in town. As the plane lifted off the runway and turned toward home, I looked over at Brandon, who was wistfully staring out the window at the island's receding coastline. As I did so, I glanced at the pendant Antonio had given him, now hanging from his neck chain and proudly proclaiming that he was gay, and I wondered what lay ahead for him. To be continued.