This story details explicit gay sex between men, teens and boys. If you find this kind of thing distasteful, or if you are underage wherever you live, then stop reading this now, and delete this file. The story is completely fictional; the author does not condone or encourage any of the acts contained herein.
By: Tim Keppler (email@example.com)
Edited by: Bob Leahy
On the twentieth stroke, I give up. His ass is red and swollen. He's bruising badly. And he has shed not one tear. I lift him off the bed and carry him to the corner. I know he has to be in pain, but his eyes are dry, although his breathing is a little ragged. I set him on my lap, and hug him. I know Kenny wants to cry. That's why we do this. We do this so he can cry, but he's not crying. I hug him tight.
"What's wrong, baby?" I ask him.
That's all it takes. Suddenly he starts to cry, actually to sob. He is absolutely inconsolable. "I'm sorry," he says, choking on tears. "I'm so sorry."
"It's okay, sweetie," I say, hugging him tight. "This is for you. This is your time. I love you. You know that."
Kenny is draped over my left shoulder. He's sobbing. "I can't... I want to... I just can't..."
"Baby, what's wrong?"
It's been a long time since Kenny has been this clingy. He's absolutely attached to me, attached and sobbing, and it doesn't sound like it's going to stop any time soon.
"I don't want to...do this...anymore," he wails, between sobs.
"What?" I ask.
"I don't want to write this...shit anymore!" he screams.
"Yeeaaahhhh!" he whines.
"Then don't," I say, giving him a hug.
He rears back, staring into my eyes. "I don't have to? But...I'm the only one bringing in any significant money."
I give him a long, long look. "Is this why you've been so grumpy lately?"
He nods. "I don't want to do this any more, Tim."
I push him peremptorily off my lap, walk out of the room, and return maybe fifteen seconds later. I got the bank statement for the "college fund" today. I hand it to him. This is where we put Jason and Kenny's proceeds for their music projects. We also put Dinh's half of the porn money there. All our collective income goes there before we invest it. The balance is a big number, a very big number. It takes Kenny's breath away. Kenny counts the digits, and then he looks at me. Then he looks at the carpet.
"If this is truly why you've been grumpy for the past week, it makes me want to beat you some more, but your ass is a mess. It does make me very angry, though. If you're unhappy, you need to tell me that. Goddamn it, Kenny! If you're not happy with what you're doing, you need to stop doing it. You need to find something else to do. You can't know how much this pisses me off! Do you have any idea how angry this makes me?"
He nods slowly, still staring at the carpet. I sit back down in the chair and pat my lap. He comes and sits on it, and we hug. I kiss him. "What do you want to do?"
He's draped over my left shoulder, whispering to me. "I...umm...want to write songs. I...uhh...don't want to do that in my spare time. I want to write poetry. I don't want to write these games anymore. And, I don't think I want to teach anymore. If I...uhh...see one more line of Java...I think I'll...go...insane!" He starts to cry again.
"Why's that a tragedy? You should cry because I spank you, not because you hate to go to work. Should I spank you some more?"
He rears back. "Yes, please...," he says in earnest.
"No," I say with a laugh. "You've been spanked enough. Honest to god, Kenny, if you don't want to do it anymore, then don't! What is this – Dark Angel 7? At some point, it's time to do something else. I did. It's your turn. Let Dinh finish the game, and at the end of the semester, resign from Stanford. It's not like we need the income. We can all live off Jason, and Dinh's teaching assistantship." I giggle and Kenny laughs. Money is not an issue, and Kenny knows it. He and Jason have made more on song writing than they've made being professionals. "So, are we done here?" I ask.
Kenny shakes his head. "No," he says.
"What left to do?" I ask with a grin.
"I need to be fucked," Kenny whispers.
"Ah, yes. You've been thoroughly spanked. Now it's time to be thoroughly fucked. We can do that."
I carry Kenny across the room and dump him unceremoniously onto the bed. He giggles and smiles as he watches me strip. By the time I'm down to my underwear, Kenny is erect. He motions me to the bed and we begin to kiss as he slowly lowers my briefs, allowing my own erection to pop free. I pull him into a tight embrace, running my fingers down his smooth back. He is so beautiful, and feels so good in my arms, his belly pressed to mine, our twin erections rubbing against each other. Kenny defines the term "insatiable" for me. The more I have him, the more I want him, and I want all of him. I really want to fuck him, but I don't want to break this kiss to do it. I want to feel his body pressed against mine. Breaking this contact seems unthinkable, but...I really want to fuck him. I want to feel my body slide into him. I want to feel his warmth envelope my dick, but to do that, I'll have to break this kiss, and I'm not sure I can. Finally, after maybe twenty minutes of kissing and rubbing, Kenny pushes me away. He knows instinctively that if he doesn't, he might never get fucked. "Do it, Tim. Do it now. Take me from behind. You can go deeper that way."
He rotates on the bed so he's on his knees with his face on the mattress. It's interesting what you notice when you first meet someone. I have straight friends who tell me that when they first see a woman, what they notice first are her tits, followed by her legs. One guy even confessed that once he's seen the tits and the legs, he sort of fills in the rest by imagining what's between those two points in the geography of her body. When I see a guy for the first time, I notice the face first, the eyes, and especially the lips, the hair, and then the contour of the neck. Then I move south and look at the ass. Kenny has a really-spectacular ass, and presented as it is now, I realize I'm not yet ready to fuck him. Instead, I begin to lick him. I part his ass cheeks, and begin to lick along the crack, carefully avoiding the pucker for the moment. Kenny begins to moan. I continue to lick him slowly, getting him good and wet and inhaling the scent of him. I move a little further down, pushing his legs apart, and lick his perineum from the back of his balls all the way up the crack. He continues to moan and to whimper. Finally, I lick the pucker, and Kenny begins to squirm and...surprisingly...to cry. I continue to lick him, jabbing my tongue as far into him as I can, which isn't far because Kenny is pretty tight. I'd really like to stroke his dick, but I don't dare because he's pretty keyed up and would probably cum too quickly.
After I've tortured him like this for maybe ten minutes, I grab the lotion from the nightstand and lube my dick. Grabbing him by the hips, I line up my dick, and gently pull him toward me, sliding inside him slowly and steadily. He gasps, and continues to cry. "You okay?" I whisper.
He nods. "Yeah," he chokes. "Bury yourself in me, please. All the way. Then stop. I want to feel you inside me."
I do what he says, draping myself over his back. I am as far inside him as I can get. I reach around, and hug him. Neither of us moves. His crying is more urgent now. "I love you," he whispers. "Whatever happens, I love you more than anything. And you...umm...feel so...good...inside me." We stay like this for several minutes. Finally, he looks around. "Fuck me, Tim."
Slowly, I back out of him a bit, and then thrust forward again, establishing a rhythm. It's slow at first, but I soon pick up the pace. As he loosens up I begin to pull all the way out of him before plunging back in, something that Kenny likes but Jason doesn't. It's interesting the different sexual tastes of my three guys. Dinh likes pain, and fairly-significant pain at that. He likes nipple clamps, and he likes me to squeeze his balls. He likes sex to hurt a bit. Jason is on the opposite end of the pain spectrum. He likes sex to be slow and sensuous. He likes it intimate. He likes to be fucked from the front so we can kiss while I fuck him. He likes to be licked, and nibbled, but he doesn't want to be hurt. He wants me to make love to him rather than fuck him. He wants me to make him feel loved. He wants it to be romantic. Kenny falls somewhere between Dinh and Jason. He's not big on pain per se, but he likes it a bit rough. He likes me to plunge into him. He likes to feel it.
Today, though, is a little different. Today he's crying, and I don't know why, so after a while, I slow down. "You okay?" I ask. He doesn't answer. Finally, I stop, my dick buried inside him, my body draped over his. "You okay?" I ask again. Finally he nods. I continue to fuck him, slowly, gently, stroking him as I go, and ultimately I stop moving entirely and just stroke him. He cums in a gush. I do not. We disengage and just cuddle, and after maybe twenty minutes, Kenny stops crying and falls asleep. I disentangle myself, cover him with the duvet, and go off to take a shower. After I've showered, I wander off toward the kitchen where I find Jason and Dinh sharing a three-bean drink, chatting away in Cantonese.
We talk for a bit – about Jason's upcoming performance of a Wagner opera, about Dinh's two classes, and then I ask them. "Do either of you know what's going on with Kenny?"
Dinh stares at the floor, and Jason looks embarrassed. "He hasn't talked to you?" Jason asks.
"Not really," I reply. "He acted weird tonight. We made love, and he cried. He cried non-stop. He said he loved me, and then he started to cry. Do you guys know what's going on? We talked about him not wanting to write games anymore, but how is that an emotional issue? There's got to be something else. Do you guys have any idea?"
There's a long, long pause. "Yeah," Jason finally says. "But, it's got to be Kenny who tells you what's bothering him. It can't be us."
I give Jason a long look, a long and urgent look. "It has to be Kenny," he says.
The next morning I wake up at 9:30am, earlier than usual. I had a hard time sleeping. Jason and Dinh have both left for the day, but Kenny is in the kitchen. This is a teaching day for him, but he's called in sick, it appears. Dinh is covering for him, I learn later. When I get to the kitchen looking for coffee, I find him sitting at the table. He looks terrible. His eyes are red and puffy, and it honestly doesn't look like he's slept much. He's wearing my robe. He's slumped over the table, leaning on his hands. He looks up briefly when I come into the room.
"Morning. Have you eaten?" I ask. He shakes his head. I get myself a cup of coffee, and get him one as well. I set it in front of him, and sit down beside him. "Kenny, baby, what's wrong? It isn't about the job, is it?"
He gives me a long, pensive look, and then shakes his head. He starts to cry, covering his face with his hands. Now I know why his eyes are so red.
"So, what is it?" I ask. I suspect I know the answer, but it surprises me, if true, and I honestly don't know what to do if I'm right. He sobs for maybe five minutes, and then finally gets control of himself. He looks me in the eyes. "How much do you love me?" he asks.
I give him a long look. "Desperately. I love you passionately. You know that. I adore you."
"I knnooowwww," he wails. He dissolves into tears again. He is inconsolable.
"Kenny, what's going on?"
After several minutes he looks up, looks into my eyes, and launches himself into my lap, hugging me nearly to death. "I'm sorry, Tim. I'm so sorry...I...cheated. I let someone...blow me. It was a colleague. I'm so...sorry. I've been so unhappy, trying to figure out how to tell you. I knew I had to tell you. It happened last Friday. It was a colleague. I'm so sorry. Please...please...don't make me go away. I love you...so...much. I was stupid. Please...," he cries.
I hug him, tentatively. What do you do in a situation
like this? I adore Kenny. I don't think I can live without him. I don't want to live without him. He is a
foundation of my being, a cornerstone. But...I feel betrayed. The good news is that
no one fucked him, and he didn't fuck anyone. I'm not going to get AIDS from a
blow job, nor will Jason or Dinh. But I feel...violated.
Years ago I was robbed. It was when I was in college. I came home and found
drawers pulled open. I found my television missing. I didn't miss the
television, but someone had plundered my home, as Kenny has plundered my heart.
I know that sounds corny, but that's how it feels. I feel completely exposed,
and not in a good way. I feel utterly vulnerable, and what I do...is start to cry, something that Kenny rarely sees. When Andrew
died of a drug overdose, I cried endlessly. When Kenny told me in
Ultimately, I push him off of me and do what I did when Andrew died. I go to the bathroom, take an Ambien, and go back to bed. I wake up at 3:00am the following morning. Jason is attached to my back, snoring softly, and Dinh is attached to his back, also snoring. Kenny is attached to my chest, and he's crying. He is wet and snotty, and the minute he sees me open my eyes, he begins to beg me to forgive him. "Please, Tim, please...I'm so sorry." I hug him, and close my eyes. I fall back asleep, and awake the next morning, a Saturday, at 9:15am. I'm alone in bed when I awake, and crawl out drowsily. Ambien is powerful shit, and this is exactly the fourth time I've taken it. I wander into the bathroom, take a leak, grab my robe, and wander out into the house. I find Jason in the living room, and he follows me into the kitchen as I plunk down at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee. He makes me a couple of fried eggs and some toast, and sits with me as I eat.
"Where is everyone?" I ask.
"Kenny and Dinh've taken the boys to the park," Jason tells me. "Kenny can't stop crying, so it's going to be an interesting outing. The boys are a little freaked. Kenny'll go for maybe an hour, and then he'll spontaneously start to sob. Kevin understands that Kennh did something wrong, and tries to comfort him, but Kai has no idea what's going on. Do you think you can forgive him, Tim?"
I give him a long look. "I love him, Jason. You know that." He nods. "He fucked up. And...I feel...dirty somehow. I feel violated. Do you know what I mean?"
The thing about polyamorous relationships is that they're really no different than if it was just two of you. You establish the rules of the relationship and you abide by them. You're always free to change the rules, but that requires mutual consent. In our case, the main written rule is monogamy – times four. This is a complicated rule if you think about it because it means that if you break it, you've broken faith not just with one person, but with all three of us. And, breaking faith these days can have dire consequences. What Kenny did was pretty benign from a physical perspective, but on a spiritual level, is allowing yourself to get sucked off any different than fucking someone, especially given our other rule, which is no cumming without permission? Usually what this means is that we all participate in any sexual activity together, but practically speaking it has meant that I participate in any sexual activity. We don't always have sex together, although mostly we do. Sometimes it's just two of us, though, especially when Dinh's involved because his sexual tastes are...different than those of Kenny and Jason. And sometimes, Kenny and Jason like to make love together – just the two of them. They love each other passionately, after all. But, when that happens, Kenny always asks me first...always. And it's always Kenny that asks, never Jason. I don't know why. I've never said no.
The point is, it's always in the family. Monogamy times four. Occasionally, we've brought in others, either because we've added to the family, bringing in Kenny, for example, or Andrew, or Dinh. And, occasionally we've had more casual arrangements, such as sex with Gary and Nathan, or with Ben and Jeffrey. But these arrangements are always consensual. They're consensual and informed. We all know what we're getting into. What Kenny did was neither consensual nor informed, and he broke the two main house rules – having sex outside the family, and cumming without permission. On a physical level this is bad enough, potentially introducing disease into what has otherwise been a closed and controlled environment, but on the spiritual level the damage is almost worse. He's said to three people he purports to love that we aren't enough for him, that he needs something more. This is damaging. At least it's damaging to me, and I suspect, most of all, it's damaging to Kenny. I'm guessing he's going to have a hard time living with that message.
"It's not me who has to forgive him," I say to Jason. "I'll come around eventually. It's Kenny who's going to have to forgive himself, and maybe that won't happen very quickly. And maybe that's good. Felix culpa the catholics like to say. It means `happy or fortunate guilt'. This kind of thing teaches you that you're human. It teaches you how to be human. Don't get me wrong, I'm devastated. I'm so sad. But...Kenny is human. Our relationship is unlikely to be the same for a long time, but I still love him. I still..." And then I start to cry again, and so does Jason. We hold each other for probably half an hour, and then fix lunch – tuna salad and canella beans and pineapple for dessert, a hit with the boys when they get back from the park.
And when they do get back, after we've had our lunch, I send to boys next door to play with Feng, Quan and Tan. Dinh, Jason, Kenny and I adjourn to the living room with tea. "How'd this happen, Kenny?" I ask. "How'd you manage to betray the three of us?" Kenny starts to cry. I can tell from the expression on Jason's face that he thinks the question is too harsh. I wanted it to be harsh, though. I want Kenny to understand the spiritual implications of what he's done. I pat the couch cushion next to me, and Kenny flies to my side. I hug him as he sobs. "What happened?" I reiterate.
"This assistant professor in the department has been coming on to me," he chokes. "He came to see me during my office hours. I don't know how it happened. I'm so sorry."
"You know him?" I ask Dinh.
He nods. "Yeah. He comes on to everyone. He's an arrogant prick. Very full of himself. He specializes in database management software. Umm...physically...he looks a lot like you." I suppose there's some consolation in that. NOT.
"So, rather than coming home and letting me fuck you," I say, looking back at Kenny, "you decided it was better, more erotic, more satisfying to get sucked off by `an arrogant prick'?"
Kenny nods, sobbing. "I'm so sorry. I'm...sorry...to...all of you," he says, looking from me, to Dinh, and then to Jason. "I'm so sorry!"
Dinh and Jason nod. I stare.
"Please, Tim. Umm...could you...uhh...punish me, please."
I give him a long, long look. "No," I say, musing. "No. I don't think I can. I don't think it's my job to help you atone for this. I think that's your job. I think it's your job to figure out how to make this up to us – to all of us." And with that, I get up and leave the room, heading for the office. I have work to do.
The next two weeks are intense. It begins with cocktails with the guy who seduced Kenny. Dinh introduces me, and sure enough, the first thing he does is hit on me. The guy truly is an arrogant prick, just like Dinh said. He doesn't know anything about us. He doesn't know anything about our relationships. All he knows is that Dinh is Kenny's teaching assistant. That's it. And that makes this delicious, doesn't it? I allow myself to be hit on. I allow myself to be seduced – sort of. "I want to fuck you," I say, in my sluttiest voice, and I do fuck him...with a rubber dildo...while filming the whole thing with a web camera attached to his computer. It makes quite a wonderful little video on YouTube. Nothing like what Shawn and Dinh would make, but good nevertheless. The chairman of the Comp Sci department likes it, Dinh tells me. And Shawn has been able to edit out any trace of my face. God I love technology.
Kenny is another matter. We don't have a whole lot of contact at home. I find that I don't have a desire to fuck him, nor to spank him. And he doesn't ask. What he does instead is burst into tears pretty much any time he sees me. I feel sorry for him, very sorry. But, I just don't...umm...have any desire for him...right now. And he apparently doesn't have any desire for Jason, because he doesn't ask. At the end of about two weeks, we meet in the kitchen. He's eating breakfast, getting ready to leave for school, and I come in looking for coffee. He sees me and tears up, looking pensively into his cereal bowl. Then he looks up at me and starts to cry. "I don't...umm...know what to do...Tim. I...don't know how to...make this up to you."
I move to the table and caress him. "Maybe you already have, babe. Maybe you can never make it up to me, so there's nothing to make up. Please don't ever do this again. It just...hurts me...too much," I say, choking back tears. Kenny starts to sob.
"I won't," he chokes out. "I'm so sorry!"
I lift his chin and look into his eyes. He is contrite, contrite and tearful. "When do you have to be at school?" I ask him.
"At 11am." It's 9am now.
I take his hand and lead him to the bedroom where I sit him on the edge of the bed. He looks so nice in his khakis and polo shirt, but I want him out of those so badly that I can scarcely be bothered with the buttons. He's naked in an instant, and so am I. For a few moments I just stare at him. He's just so beautiful, so smooth, so soft, and so tan. I want to lick him, to touch him, and to fuck him all at the same time. I want to kiss him most of all. I've missed him so much. How can I have not been with him for two entire weeks? I just stare. Finally, I sit down on the edge of the bed next to him. "Please, Kenny, please never do this again. You hurt me so much. You hurt us so much. Please..." I'm close to tears. Kenny is sobbing. Suddenly, he lunges for me, hugging me.
"I won't!" he wails. "I promise."
I nod, pensively. "I want you to fuck me, Kenny. I want you to take me. I'm yours. I want you to understand what that means. I'm yours. You have a responsibility to me...to protect me...to care for me."
Kenny continues to sob. I'm not sure he's ever thought of me in these terms before. Care. Protection. Responsibility. That's how I've thought of him, but I'm not sure he's ever thought of me like this. But he does now. I can tell by the way he makes love to me, the slow and sensuous way he...enters me. There's no urgency here. It's all about me. He wants it to mean something...to me. He wants me to feel loved, to feel...enveloped. He wants me to feel...owned. And I do. As he takes me from behind and slides into me, I feel suddenly...submissive. I want him so badly. I want him to care...for me, to take care of me. I want to give myself to him in a way I never have before, and I want him to accept me as a precious gift. I know this sounds silly. I know this sounds like something out of a Harlequin, but it's what I need right now. It's what I need to repair the damage, and it's what he gives me. As he holds me in his arms, as he encompasses me, slowly sliding in and out of me, I feel...whole again. I feel at one with him, like we're one person. He's taken ownership of my spirit, and it feels good to be his.
Makeup sex with me is good, but he's got more making up to do than just with me. Sure enough, he comes and asks me if he and Jason can make love. Of course, I acquiesce, but what's more surprising is when he comes and asks to be with Dinh. I give him a long, curious look. "Umm...okay. You know that Dinh will ask for things from you that you might not expect."
"I know," he says.
Two days later, Dinh and I meet for punishment. "How was it?" I ask.
Dinh giggles. "Kenny is very sweet. That's the problem."
I laugh. We all like what we like, and what Kenny can give isn't what Dinh wants. What Dinh wants is something I have to steel myself to deliver. I can usually get there, but it takes work, and imagination, and a fair amount of...abandon. If I think too much about it, it makes me nervous. I love him, though, so I try to...deliver.
"So, did you resign?" I ask Kenny a week later.
"No," he replies. "I like what I do...mostly. I was depressed about my infidelity. I was very unhappy about what I'd done to you all. Now I'm okay and...umm...I realize how lucky I am. I took you for granted for a long time. I really didn't have a sense of how valuable you are to me...until I nearly lost you. Now I know. And I'll never do that again. I'm going to give the Dark Angel series to Dinh, though, and work on something else I've been thinking about. I've been thinking it'd be sort of cool to develop some games that follow the plot of Shakespeare's plays. I thought I'd start with some of the most popular tragedies and comedies. Maybe I'll start with Macbeth. The idea is to allow players to identify themselves as the major characters – Macbeth, Lady Macbeth, McDuff, and so on. And then they move through the plot of the play, but not necessarily as the play was written. Basically they'll have the opportunity to rewrite it if they want to. Maybe Macbeth will choose not to commit the murder, or to murder someone else. Maybe he'll elect to murder his wife, or maybe the three witches will change the course of the play. I don't know. I haven't worked through it yet, but at least it'll be something different. Actually, it's the teaching I can't give up. I love the teaching, and I need the games to be credible in this field."
I nod, and as I do in bounce Dinh and Jason.
"Are you set up?" Kenny asks Dinh. Dinh nods. I look quizzically at the two of them.
"Dinh has a new office at Stanford. He's not sharing one anymore. One of the private offices freed up. As a senior teaching assistant, he's entitled."
"Cool," I reply. "How'd that happen mid-year?"
"They fired one of their assistant professors," Dinh says. "He hadn't been there long. He was a gay guy. They nailed him on some kind of morality charge. He had some weird stuff on YouTube from what I understand." Dinh winks at me, and Kenny suddenly goes very quiet.
"I see," I reply. "Well, that was convenient."
Published first at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Nemo-stories/