Date: Sun, 7 Oct 2012 04:37:56 -0700 (PDT) From: Dj Montgomery Subject: "Kye," part 11 This is a work of fiction although some scenes may have been modeled after events that are real and possibly autobiographical. Any resemblance to real or actual events, and/or persons, living or deceased, is purely coincidental and not intentional. All legal disclaimers apply. If you are under the age of 18 (21 in some areas) and too young to be reading such material, or if you are in a locale or country where it does not meet moral standards, then please leave immediately and come back when it is legal for you to do so. Comments and suggestions are appreciated at djmontgomery99@yahoo.com Please remember that Nifty needs your donations to provide these wonderful stories and keep the site going. Donate at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html "Kye" Part 11 No one could figure out what was up with Mitch. Or where he'd gone. We all arrived together in my Jeep, as cramped as it was with four good-sized bodies, but the Jeep was still in the parking lot, and I still had the keys in my packet. Donnie swore that he and Mitch were not fighting. He decided to go with Jack to see if they could find Mitch. They would head back in the direction of home, in case he tried to walk or hitch a ride. Trey and I looked in all the nooks and crannies that existed in the block surrounding Jack's restaurant. When we didn't find anything, we went back and sat on the stoop outside the front door. This seemed to be tearing up Trey more than anyone, which is why I'd stayed behind to be with him. "Trey, have you ever seen Mitch act like this before?" I asked as gently as I could as I reached around his back to bring him into an embrace. Not a sexual embrace; just to let him know that a buddy was here to help him. He seemed to be searching back into his past, and finally a forgotten memory surfaced. I knew it, because it literally looked like a light went on all over Trey's face. "He was angry, sullen, when we had to decide if we were going to muster out of the Corps, or stay in for life. He really wanted both. He loved the Corps, and always knew his place there. He loved being around men. Strong, masculine men. Men who reeked of testosterone. He could easily have made the Marines his life." "But he also had this unfinished business with Kye. It was nagging at him, driving him to leave the corps and find closure. He never forgave Kye for the loss of his father's companionship, and I think that was the deciding factor." Trey continued. "When he was trying to make his decision, he was miserable. Like I said, he wanted it all. Funny thing is, he never once asked me what I was going to do. It was as if he'd be making the decision for the two of us, and in the end, he did." Tears began to course down Trey's cheeks. "Maybe he did realize that I was in love with him, and that I would go wherever he went, even to the ends of the Earth. I was the one thing that he was sure of. I just wish he could have said to me that he loved me, too." With that, Trey broke down and fell into my arms. I said nothing, just held him. Sobs wracked his body, and I became keenly aware of just how much bigger than I this man was. His huge arms, striated with muscles, bobbed as he held on to me as if he were a drowning man. The vascularity of those arms, as well as his chest which peeked through the open vest, were enough to make any man drool. I loved it when he "dressed up" by wearing a vest with no shirt on underneath. Leather on him was hot. The only other vest he had was one from a three-piece suit, with the shiny material across the back. It was a light gray pinstripe, and when he put that on for me, I lost it. He looked so fucking hot! Just thinking about that now made my jeans become very uncomfortable, as my dick turned to rigid steel. How in god's name could Mitch not tell Trey he loved him? Finally I worked up the courage to ask Trey a question that I really didn't want to know the answer for. "Trey, have you talked to Mitch about us?" "Fuck, how can I talk to him about you and me when I can't get him to talk about him and me? This is so fucked up. I should be so happy tonight. You've given a house to us with no questions, no strings attached, and I haven't shown proper gratitude..." "Trey," I interrupted, "things can't love us, and we shouldn't be loving them. You can't really love something that can't love you back. Life is all about relationships. Period. End of story. And you have an unresolved relationship that has risen up and slapped you upside the head. You are dealing with the important issue. The house can wait. Mitch can't. Do you want to go get the Jeep and join the search?" I half expected him to say no, and he surprised me when he jumped up with a resounding, "Yes!" He extended his arm to me, and I grabbed his hand and accepted his help to get up. "Thanks for the assistance. This old body needs all the..." I never got to finish my sentence because Trey had pulled me into an embrace as I got up, and his tongue was now demanding entrance. I let him lead the embrace so that he could end it when he felt the need, but I was an active participant! "I am so lucky, so blessed, to have a friend like you, Dom," he said as he broke the kiss. "I don't know what I have done to deserve a man like you in my life. You've become, in a very short time, the anchor I always needed but never had. You keep me sane and stable with your wit and wisdom. Promise me that you will never leave me?" I couldn't speak. Now my eyes were filling with tears, and I knew that if I tried to verbalize what was in my heart right then, I'd lose it. So I just smiled a weak smile, nodded my head, and buried my face into his chest. When I could speak, I pulled away from his chest and spoke. "Let's get going. Mitch already has a head start. Any ideas where we should begin looking?" "No fucking idea at all. The guy is so happy-go-lucky all the time. He's never like this, except for that one time. He's all sex, fun, energy, love, loyalty...just the kind of guy every man wishes he had as a friend." I looked at Trey as I got into the Jeep, and he looked at me. "Don't start bawling again," I told him. "Focus on how to help Mitch. There must be something he said that could clue us in to where he went, or what he's doing." "I'm trying to remember. We had this wonderful opportunity to stay in the corps as trainers. They even volunteered to send us to Ramstein, Germany for a three year stint as trainers there, if we wanted to go. But no pressure. The Corps just wanted us to stay on. It was really weird, not getting any pressure from the Corps, as if they didn't want to force Mitch to choose anything he'd regret later." "So we had that, and of course we had each other, and then there was the thing with Kye that needed to be taken care of. It seemed like for weeks, Mitch would go over in his head, or talk out loud when he thought no one was listening, about the choices he needed to make. One of the guys who worked with us asked if Mitch was going to have a mental breakdown! He was just kidding, but Mitch was probably closer than we all thought. He was having a really hard time with his decision. He never came out of his funk till he decided to muster out, and it seemed like the storm clouds lifted overnight. The next day, he was back to being the old Mitch." "Do you think he's facing decisions like that right now? I mean, he's got a new love, Donnie, but his old standby is still around. That's you. How does he deal with that? And he worked, almost fixated, on getting Kye to repay for all the things he's done, and most of that is over, except for what we do with all the new guys on line who want a piece of him, so is he depressed that he no longer has that to look forward to? And how about the fact that now he doesn't have to work, that he's got half of a "paid-for" house; maybe the prospect of not having to work scares him? Could it be that he's just got too much on his plate for him to handle?" "Maybe. Maybe not. He's actually a pretty resilient guy. He can handle a lot. Like I said, he's only been like this one time before, and with all he's gone through--the high school football thing, losing his parents, having a stressful job in the Corps--he's proven he can handle a lot. Besides, he told me one night that if the situation ever came up where he couldn't make a decision, he'd leave it all behind." Suddenly, I got worried. "Trey, when did he tell you this?" "Oh, one night, a few weeks after we'd gotten settled here in town. We were drinking, and letting loose, and I guess he had his guard down because he seemed to be more honest with me that night than any time I've ever talked with him." I questioned Trey further. "Was he talking about any particular incident, or situation, when he talked about leaving it all behind?" "I don't remember. We were both drinking, and my memory is a little fuzzy. The only thing I really recall was the part about leaving life behind." "That's not what you said before, Trey!" I was getting scared now. "You said `leave it all behind' before, and now you're saying `leaving life behind,' so which is it? What did he say?" I tried to not show how frantic I was becoming. Trey's eyes grew wide with fear, and he blurted out, "You don't think he'd `off' himself, do you?" "You know him better than I do, buddy. But if we find him in time, maybe we'll never find out the answer to that question." I quickly ran through my mind a list of any places where I'd heard of suicides, or killings taking place. I quickly narrowed the list to one, and threw the Jeep into gear. As I floored the accelerator, I told Trey to call the county sheriff's office. "Tell them to meet us by the old railroad bridge, just north of town." That was the opposite direction as we usually drove to go home, so Jack and Donnie would be no where around to help. I told Trey to call Donnie after he called the Sheriff. "Tell the Sheriff we need a boat in the water below the bridge. But keep it out of sight. And keep any squad cars out of sight, too. We have a jumper on the bridge, and we don't want to spook him." "Are you sure that's where Mitch is?" Trey asked with fear in his voice. "If I'm wrong, then we'll keep looking. But it is pretty common knowledge around town that the old railroad bridge is a sure thing if you're planning to leave it all behind. If the fall doesn't kill you, the rocks just below the surface will." I was sorry to have to break it to Trey in such a rough fashion, but he had to be prepared for the worst. He leaned over and buried his face in my shoulder, and began to cry. "Dammit, fuckhead!" I yelled at Trey, "Make the fuckin' call! Do it! Now!" The tone of my voice snapped Trey back to reality, and he dialed `911.' He talked to the dispatcher, and relayed all the information I had asked him to tell. They said that they'd immediately begin to launch the boat, and it'd be in place in about fifteen minutes. "How long till we get there?" Trey asked. "I think we're about two minutes away, maybe less." We remained quiet for those two minutes, and when I turned the corner and began the slow rise up the hill toward the railroad trestle, we could faintly see the outline of something on the bridge. We could only hope that it was not Mitch, and that my hunch was wrong. As we drove closer, and got ready to park, we realized that the worst had come true. It was Mitch. And he was looking our direction. "Don't fuckin' come near me, or I'll jump!" he screamed, so that we would clearly know his intentions. "What the fuck do you think you are doing?" Trey screamed back at him, as he walked quickly up the rise. He took a few more steps toward Mitch, but was still about 50 yards from him when he stopped. "Stay away, asshole, or I'll jump." These two guys are all stressed out, I said to myself. I knew I needed to take control of the situation. I hoped that my training in management skills would work for me now. And I hoped that I knew just enough about Mitch to make the right decisions about what to say and try. I remembered back to the day I first met him, when he had tackled Trey on the porch, and his introduction to me was a deep, wet French kiss. "Mitch, what is this about? Trouble making a decision?" Iasked, just a little cocky. Trey's head shot around, a frantic look on his face. He didn't know what I was doing. I hoped that I did. "Don't play with my head, boy!" he screamed at me. Clue number one: he was mad at me. He'd never called me boy, but the comment was one way to exercise his control over me. "Sir, would it be okay for Trey to ask you some questions?" I asked in a strong but subservient voice. "I don't want to talk to either of you pigs!" he screamed in return to my question. Clue number two: He was upset with us as a couple. He didn't acknowledge Trey individually, or address the question of Trey talking to him; he lumped us together, and not in a good way. I fell to my knees on the grass, and turned my gaze to the ground, hoping that Mitch would see this as a sign of submission. I continued. "Sir, we've got Donnie coming." I hoped we had Donnie coming; I had told Trey to call Donnie and Jack, but didn't remember him making the call. I stole a glance over at Trey. He nodded in the affirmative. Good, Donnie was coming. I was snapped back to reality when Mitch made a menacing move toward us, taking about four steps, then stopping. "And I don't want to talk to that pussy either. He loves you, Dom!" Oh, oh! Clue number three was certainly unexpected: Something about Donnie and Mitch's relationship had hit a snag. And Donnie seemed unaware of it. He'd said that their relationship was fine. Was it something he said that just rubbed Mitch the wrong way? "Sir, Donnie loves you!" I emphasized the 'you.' "And i would never take him away from you. I respect you too much, and I have so much less to offer Daonnie than you..... "Shut up! Shut the fuck up!" Mitch screamed. He was becoming more aggitated. I needed to steer the conversation away from Donnie, and focus it back on me. Maybe if he could focus his anger on me, then we'd get him down. "Sir, was it something I said earlier tonight?" I asked with all seriousness. "You and your fucking money! You think you can buy us all?" Clue number four, and probably the one that brought it to a head tonight: my new found money. It had created a wedge between Mitch and reality, and I had no idea of how to undo that. I looked over at Trey and shrugged my shoulders. I had nothing right now. Trey stepped up like a good buddy should, and addressed his old friend. "Mitch, how long have we known each other?" "Too fucking long!" "Mitch, look at me. That is not an answer. That's an opinion. I want an answer. You owe me that much." "I don't know." "Well, it has been five years, eleven months, three days, and ...approximately thirteen hours. Do you know how I know that? Because I have been in love with you for that entire time, that's why. That first day when we met at boot camp, I couldn't take my eyes off you. I thought you were a blonde god. Little did I know that with a few years of fitness, and muscle building, and shorter hair, and no clothes, that the blonde god was waiting to emerge. Each day that I have known you, I have loved you, and each day the love grew greater. You know that, don't you?" "Then why were you out fucking that little pig this afternoon out by the tree instead of me?" "Two reasons: you were already occupied, fucking Donnie. The groaning gave the two of you away. And you never gave me what Dom has given me in the last few days. He has returned my love, and has verbalized it. You have never told you that you love me." Trey was taking a risk here, but I was confident that he knew what he was doing. As Mitch listened to Trey, his body had seemed to become less tense. "You know I love you. You have always known that I love you." "Mitch, it would be nice to hear it once in a while. And it didn't take much prompting the other day when you told Donnie that you were in love. With him." "I could never be in love with that little douche bag like I love you." Another oh oh! Something serious is about to come out. I was sure of it. "How can you be so sure? I know that Donnie loves you; we can all see it in his eyes, and hear it in his voice." Trey was beginning to plead with Mitch. "Oh yeah, then why did he call me Dom while we were fucking this afternoon? He had his eyes closed as I drilled him a new hole and he squealed for `Dom' to fuck him harder. So who is he in love with? I don't think it is me." Donnie was thinking about me? While Mitch fucked him hard? Was it a slip of the tongue, or was it true? "So he fucked up once. He knew Dom was at the lawyer's today; maybe the thought of Dom just crossed his mind. So he fucked up. Once. You never have? Have I fucked up, Mitch? Or was I so blindly in love with you that I always did exactly what you thought I should do? What would you have done if I had decided to stay in the Corps when you got out?" "You wouldn't have stayed. You were too much in love with me." "Fuck off, asshole. I think you give yourself too much credit. Hey, time is wasting. You better jump soon. I've got things to do." With that, Trey turned and marched back to the Jeep. Kneeling there on the grass, I pissed myself. I had no fucking idea what Trey had just done. I just knelt there, paralyzed. I was sure that Mitch would jump now. But he didn't. It was as though he was paralyzed, too. Just then, Trey got back out of the Jeep and approached me. He walked around in front of me. He reached down and grabbed each side of my shirt collar, and ripped my shirt open. Then he tore it off me. "Get your pants off, bitch, or I'll just fuck your face instead of your ass," he shouted, loud enough for anyone within a mile to hear. What was Mitch doing? I complied, but probably not fast enough, because Trey slapped me hard across the face. He never had done anything like this before, but deep down, it was turning me on all to hell. As I was trying to get my jeans down to my ankles, Trey kicked me in the stomach with his boot. Then he grabbed me by the hair on the back of my head, pulled my head back up so that I could see the crazed look in his eyes. He savagely kissed me. When he backed away, he spit in my open mouth, twice, then sank his huge cock into my mouth and throat all the way to his pubes. I choked at the forceful entry. "You cocksucking pussy, look what you've done to my life." Trey was screaming at me, and he was scaring me. Still, my cock was hard as steel. He slapped me hard across the face, first with one hand, then the other. My head couldn't move; it was pinned in place, with my mouth choking on the huge piece of manmeat forcing itself repeatedly down my throat. So my face absorbed the sharp blows, and tears began to flow from my eyes. Suddenly, I was the one who had no fucking idea what was happening, unless these were Trey's true feelings about both me and Mitch. "You waltz into my life with your pussy hanging out and fuck up a good thing that I had going. Kye was right to fuck you up. He probably should have finished the job. Should have slammed his big cock into your pussy and made it bleed. That's what a tease like you needs. You need a real man to make your pussy bleed." All the while he was humiliating me with his taunts, he was slamming his cock into my throat, and it was beginning to hurt. I wasn't about to tell him that, for fear he'd continue. Instead I pushed him off, got up off my knees, and taunted him right back. "Oh yeah, and where am I going to find a real man to make my pussy bleed, way out here?" I was getting angry myself, but the words that came from my lips surprised even myself. "You ain't no real man. And that little dick isn't even going to open me up, let alone make me bleed." I knew it was coming, but it still surprised me with its intensity. Trey brought up his right fist into my jaw, and snapped my head back. I fell to the ground, and he fell on top of me. He flipped me over, and without benefit of foreplay or lube, he sank his cock into my ass with one shove until he bottomed out. I'm sure that my scream was heard all over town. I wondered if the sheriff was in place out of sight, and if so, why he wasn't trying to break up this rape. Trey dug his boots into the soft dirt, and proceeded to fuck me across the ground. He slapped my ass repeatedly, hard, and alternated that with punching my back and sides with his fists. He was really hurting me. In less than a minute, he had moved me at least five feet, just by slamming his cock into my ass so hard that he propelled me forward. The friction of the grass against my skin was beginning to create "rug burn" on my chest, and on my stiff cock that was wedged beneath me. The pain of the fucking wasn't going away, and I began to plead with him to stop. Trey refused to hear my pleas, but he did hear what Mitch said when he placed a hand on Trey's shoulder. "Buddy, you've got to stop. You are hurting the man you love, and you're hurting me, too." "Fuck off," Trey responded in a cold voice, "I've got a lesson to teach this pussy." Mitch got behind Trey, grabbed him in a bear hug that pinned his arms to his side, and lifted him off me, and out of my ass. Then threw him into the dirt about three feet away. Even in the darkness of dusk, you could see streaks of blood on Trey's cock. He had succeeded in making me bleed. "I'm sorry for causing you so much pain, Trey. I do love you. I love you as a friend, a buddy, even a fuck buddy, but I could never be your lover. I promised myself that I would never fuck up our relationship by making it too personal. When I met Donnie last week, I knew I had found a lover for a lifetime, but I want it all. I want you as a friend, too. But I thought I lost you to Dom. And when Donnie called out Dom's name, I thought I had lost it all. Dom's good fortune was just the last nail in the casket. I couldn't stand to see you get it all, and I got nothing. I'm a selfish asshole, and I wanted it all." Trey got up off the ground, approached Mitch and embraced him, bringing his forehead to rest on Mitch's forehead. Tears were streaming down Trey's cheeks. "But you're MY selfish asshole, and I want you to have it all, too. Everything I have is yours. When Dom and I realized we were in love, we talked it out, and he told me that he wanted me to feel free to be with you whenever or wherever you and I would choose. He realized the depth of our relationship, and that I still love you. Dom will always have second place. I love Dom in a different way than I love you. I don't think I could ever give him up either. So I want you to have it all, and I want it all, too!" I was still on the ground, face down, not fully recovered from the brutal fucking Trey had administered to me. When I turned over, I realized for the first time that I'd cum in the grass and the dirt. When I stood up, I also realized that Trey had also deposited his load in my ass, and it began to run down my leg. I felt overexposed out here, so I pulled up my jeans to cover the cum and mud. Thank goodness Trey hadn't ripped off my jeans. I slowly walked over to give the two men a big hug--a group hug. Both Trey and Mitch each took their turn to kiss me. "And I mean everything that Trey said," I whispered in Mitch's ear. "Any time, any place, either one of us. And if Trey and I are already getting busy, join us for a threesome." Mitch just nodded, unable to speak. Trey took Mitch's chin into his hand, and turned Mitch's face to look at his own. "Promise us that you will sit down and talk to Donnie about this. He's welcome to make it a foursome, or a threesome, or any combination of bodies, whenever he wants. You just need to be sure that it is okay with him." Just then, Donnie and Jack came racing up the hill, and Donnie grabbed Mitch away from us and wrapped him into a bear hug. Donnie was crying, and soon Mitch was, too. After a few minutes, Donnie pushed himself away from Mitch and looked into his eyes. "Are you okay? What the fuck were you thinking? I love you. Don't you ever try something boneheaded like that again. Did I tell you I love you?" Donnie peppered Mitch with questions in rapid fire order as they walked back to the Jeep. Trey signaled the Sheriff that all was fine, and thanked him and his office for all their support. I told him that if there was any cost to just send me a bill. If there was no cost, I wanted to make a donation to a charity of his choice. The Sheriff walked up to us and thanked us, in close quarters, for the show we had put on for him and the boys. If we ever wanted to put on another show, he could make all the arrangements. Who knew the Sherriff was gay? Trey and I knew that Mitch needed counseling, and convincing him to go would be a huge job, but we were committed to helping him. One big piece of the puzzle would be how Donnie accepted the open lifestyle we were promoting. We'd have to see just how he would fit into that. We also had a lot of loose ends to tie up with my new assets, especially at it concerned the properties that old man Gregerson now rented. And then there was Kye--what to do about Kye. Much to be done. But not tonight. Tonight I just wanted to curl up with my lover. Yes, even after he had savaged my body, he was still my lover. I just wanted to spoon with him, and sleep until late in the morning, allowing both of us to get needed rest. And if anybody else crawled in bed with us, well, the more the merrier. And I wanted to assure him that I was more than impressed with his manhood, and I enjoyed each and every time he stretched me open with it. ...to be continued...