Punking Mike, Part 2

Chapter 7

Max H.  lilperv76@yahoo.com

This story involves sex between guys.  If you shouldn't be reading stuff like that, move on.

The characters in this fantasy may not always practice safe sex.  In the world we live in everyone should practice safe sex.

It's okay to print this story out or save it to disc, but it remains my property.  Don't transfer it to another website or archive without my permission.

Thanks to TW for doing the beta reading here.

GP = Gage Patrick   MC = Mike Cronin   TL = Terry Lathrop   KL = Kim Lee  


I didn't even sit down in the stall.  I just pulled out my cock and jacked off.  My cum went into the toilet.  When I got back to the table in the cafeteria, Mike had finished eating and was about  to leave for his poetry class.  I noticed he was hard again.  Or still.

I managed to get through my afternoon class without thinking too much about Mike or his problems.  When I got back to Mike's Rover, though, there he was, sitting in the passenger seat with a big wet spot on the front of his cargoes.

"Whassup, Mike?"

He handed me the keys.  "Ter, do you mind driving home?  The more I move, the more this thing rubs my nut, and I'm about to explode."

Now there was a dilemma.  I really wanted to unzip his pants and give him the relief he needed, but I didn't think that would be the right move just then.  So I said, "Sure, Mike.  Tough afternoon, huh?"

"Oh, you don't know the half of it.  I've been about to cum in my pants all afternoon, I've got this damned stain here, and I'm sure Dr. M. thinks I'm a slut.  And I thought my slut days were behind me."

I almost said something, but decided not to make things worse for poor Mike.  I started the car and headed for home.  On the way, though, my mind was working top speed.  He thought his slut days were behind him?  What did that mean?  I wondered if he had been a boy whore Gage had picked up in Key West, but then decided no way could this really nice, clean-cut guy next to me ever have done anything like that.  One thing was for sure, Mike had a history, and I was dying to find out what it was.  I also had to admit to myself that I'd have fucked him in a heartbeat if he wasn't with Gage.  As I drove, I got hard again, this time thinking about pulling out that buttplug and plugging his ass with my hard, drooling fucktool.


I had to drive home from Terry's house, and it was hell.  By that time of the day every motion seemed to intensify the feelings in my ass and cock.  When I pulled the Range Rover into the garage, I ran into the house, took the stairs two at a time, and stripped in our bedroom.  Again I ran, not walked, into the bathroom, where I yanked the fucking butt plug out of my ass.  Then I sat down on the toilet and breathed a sigh of relief.  

After cleaning myself and the plug, I went back into the bedroom and lay back on the bed, naked except for my socks.  My ass felt empty, and I wished Gage had been there to fill it up.  But I couldn't wait.  I spat in my hand and began to work on my cock, which by that time was purple, throbbing, aching, and oozing a constant flow of precum.  Just as it had in the library john that morning, after a few strokes, it produced.  I came all over myself.  I had cum from my hair to my pubes, with gobs of the thick, creamy stuff all the way from one to the other.

Just about then, I heard Gage come in.  I decided to let him find me there that way.  Maybe he'd understand when I pleaded with him not to make me wear the butt plug any more.


Call me anal retentive, but the keys to the Rover weren't on the hook where they belonged.  They were on the kitchen bar.  Mike wasn't downstairs to greet me as he usually did, so I wondered what was going on.  Not that there was anything so terribly wrong about his not hanging up the keys, but I just recognized a departure from routine and was puzzled.

"Yo, Mike.  Where are you, babe?"

"Up here, big boy."

Well, that didn't sound as if anything bad was going on.  I went upstairs, peeling off my jacket and my tie as I did.  What a beautiful sight I saw when I entered our bedroom!  There was my Mike, naked except for his socks, lying on the bed.  He had cum from his pubes up across his belly and chest to his face.  There were blobs of cum on his nose and his forehead, and there was even some in his hair.

"Damn, babe!  You started without me."

That struck him as funny, and he began to laugh so hard he was shaking all over.  Then, just as quickly, he quit.  "Hey, Gage," he said.  "Let me get cleaned up, and then I'll fix us some supper."

"We'll fix it together.  But you're not going to get away without telling me what's going on.  What's happening?"

"You have two choices.  We can fix supper now, or you can shove your tool up my ass and make me scream.  Which will it be?"

"You have to ask?  I still want to know what's wrong, but I'm not going to turn down a request to get into the prize ass in creation.  Just give me a minute."

I was out of my clothes in a flash, leaving them in a heap on the floor.  By the time I looked back at Mike, he had his face on the sheets and his ass in the air.

"I'm lubed, Gage.  Just do me, please!"

I paused to admire the sight.  Mike was keeping himself shaved.  Not his legs or arms, but his pubes, balls, and ass were as clean as a ten-year-old's.  His pucker didn't look as tight as usual, probably because he'd had a pretty fat butt plug there all day.  

"Come on, Gage," he pleaded.  "I need you, man!"

Our tests had come back clean just a few days earlier, so I didn't bother with a condom.  I put a little lube on my hands, rubbed them over my already straining cock, and positioned myself behind him.  His beautiful skin, no longer deeply-tanned but still golden, tempted me to look and admire.  But his magnificent rear, with its pinkish-brown pucker winking at me, lured me on.  

"Mikey, why do I get the impression I've fucked up?"

"Dammit, Gage, if you don't quit stalling, I'll fuck you up.  Please, babe, I've gotta have you now!"

His butt seemed to suck my throbbing and leaking cock right in.  My pubes came to rest against his beautiful cheeks.  

"Aaaahhhhh!" he said.  "Yesssss!"

"Ditto that, lover."

He pushed himself up with his hands so that he was on his hands and knees.  I reached around and flicked his nip rings with my fingers while I bit and nibbled on his neck and shoulders.  Then I began to suck that place where his neck joined his shoulder.

"Oh, yes, Gage, give me a hickey.  Mark me as yours.  I AM yours!  Please believe me.  I want everyone to know I'm yours.  Now, babe, pound me.  Pound me hard.  I need it!"

I assumed all this was a result of something that had happened, and whatever it was probably stemmed from making Mike wear the goddamned buttplug.  Obviously I had to get to the bottom of the problem.  And then I chuckled over the language of my most recent thoughts.  I was indeed getting to Mikey's bottom, though that probably wasn't the problem.

Sounding as angry and frustrated as I'd ever heard him, Mike said, "Dammit, Gage, I don't know what the fuck is so funny, but I wish you'd get your mind on my ass and your cock and do what any self-respecting queer would do at a time like this.  FUCK ME!"

I recognized that he wouldn't have used those words if he hadn't been pretty upset, so I went to work.  I fucked the daylights out of him.  I didn't mean to hurt him, but I certainly wasn't gentle.  He had just come before I got there, obviously, so he didn't have another orgasm.  I took my time, stopping occasionally, and then going back to hard pumping.  Mike loved that because it prolonged the pleasure for him, too.  

"It took you long enough, but it's worth it, lover!  God!  I never get enough of that hot cock of yours in me!  Yeah, that's it!  Keep it up!  Keep jamming it in there!"  He continued that kind of encouragement the whole time.  

When I finally did come, it was a big orgasm, leaving me empty, exhausted, enervated.  I collapsed on Mike, who collapsed on the bed.  I lay on top of him gasping.  When I came down from my post-orgasmic high, I began to kiss his back and the back of his neck.

"Mikey, Mikey, I'm SO sorry.  Forgive me, babe?"

I had forgotten my cock was still up his ass until he squeezed it with his sphincter.  "Forgive you?  Gage, sweetheart, do you realize that's the first time you've ever left your jizz in my ass?  The first time you haven't used a rubber?  Now, lover, now we are really united.  Now you have finally made me yours.  And you ask me to forgive you?"

I pulled out, my cock still half hard, and rolled him over onto his back.  I put a knee on each side of his hips, allowing our cocks to touch.  I leaned on my forearms, looking down at his beautiful face.

"Yes, lover, I'm asking you to forgive me.  I don't know what happened at school today, but obviously the buttplug was a bad idea and I've caused you unhappiness.  So, yes, baby, can you forgive me?"

"Kiss me."

I did.  Minutes or hours later, I don't know which, I pushed myself up.  

"Let's have some supper, and I'll tell you about the buttplug experiment if you want."

Since it was late and I, for one, was hungry, I took some chili Mike and I had made a couple of weeks earlier out of the freezer and nuked it just enough to get it into a saucepan.  Then, while the chili was heating, I poured two glasses of a nice, hefty merlot and handed Mike one. I cut some slices from a baguette and poured some basil-flavored olive oil into a flat dish.  I put the basket of bread and the olive oil on the kitchen counter.

"When my folks let me have a taste of their wine, I used to wonder why anybody would drink that stuff voluntarily, but this is pretty good, especially with the bread and olive oil."

"At Macaroni Grille they call that Italian butter."


"Yeah, babe?"

"I can't imagine being happier than I am right now."

"Being well fucked does wonders for your state of mind, doesn't it, Mike?"

He grinned.  "My state of ass, too, but that's not what I meant.  It's like, well, I don't know, just sitting here with you.  Good food.  Good wine.  Love.  What more could a guy want?"

"Hey, you're the English major.  How does it go?  `A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou, underneath the kitchen light fixture'?"

He almost choked on a swallow of wine.  "You almost got it, Gage. I don't remember Omar mentioning the light fixtures, though."

"Maybe, but he had a good idea.  For two people in love, it doesn't take much to make life really rich, does it?"

"It sure doesn't.  And, Gage," he put his hand on mine.  "My life is richer than I ever thought possible.  I promise that no matter how many studly guys I see, I'll always love you and come home to you and want to make love with you.  You gotta believe that."

"If you tell me that, Mikey, I'll believe it."

He dipped another piece of baguette into the oil and popped it into his mouth.  

"I think I just did tell ya, big guy.  So can I quit wearing the buttplug?"

I laughed.  "Sweetheart, I'm sorry if that didn't work out right.  Of course you don't have to wear it.  I apologize for asking you to wear it today.  Now, wanna tell me what happened?"

As I set plates, bowls, spoons, and water glasses on the kitchen bar, he told me what had happened.

"Shit, Mike, what a terrible day.  I'm so sorry, baby, that I caused all that.  I hope you'll charge it up to my stupidity and forgive me.  I was just trying to help you with your problem."

"You're forgiven.  And I learned today that I don't really have any problems.  So what if other guys get me hard?  I know the man I love is right here, the man I want to make love to me is right here."

I served up steaming bowls of chili, put some more bread in the basket, and refilled our glasses with merlot.  

"I hope you'll apologize to Terry for me.  It seems that my stupid idea caused him some discomfort today, too."

"Why don't you do that in person?  Why don't we have him over for dinner some evening?"

"Great idea.  Do you want to invite the Asian kid, too?"

"Well, I don't know about that.  He must think I'm some sort of perv.  And I don't know anything about him.  Let's see what happens the next time I see him at the library."

I laughed.  "A perv, huh?  Jacking off in public restrooms, huh?  Mikey, Mikey, what's happened to you?"

He looked at me very seriously.  "Gage, remember where and what I was when you found me.  Maybe I'm just cut out to be a cheap whore."

"Oh, God, Mike.  Don't let's start that again.  You came from a very good background.  You were forced to suffer mind-boggling humiliation and indignity.  You've been more or less abandoned by both parents.  And here you are, a college student, making excellent grades, and making this guy's life brighter and happier than it's ever been.  So cut it out already, okay?"

His smile made my heart leap.  "Sure, Gage.  And thanks, sweetheart.  I don't know how to tell you how much I love you."


After we had undressed for bed, Gage went to his closet again.  I tensed up, since both the cockstrap and the buttplug had come from that closet.

"Mike, I had one other thing for you.  I want you to see it, but after my other terrible ideas, I'd never ask you to wear it."

"What is it, hon?"

He handed me a long jeweler's box, the sort of thing a watch or a bracelet might come it.  "Open it," he said.

Inside was a thin gold chain with an oval gold disk hanging from the middle of it.  On the disk was MC on one side and GP on the other.

"Gage, it's beautiful.  But how do you wear it?"

"Well, my idea was that you could attach an end to each of your nip rings.  If it was tight, you'd always have a little discomfort.  But if we left it loose, it wouldn't hurt.  That is, if you wanted to be bothered with it."

My eyes filled with tears.  "Gage, that's such a beautiful thought.  How do we get it attached?"

"You take it to the jeweler and he'll adjust it with as much or as little tension as you want.  And he'll use tiny little clasps that can be easily undone, so you can take it off whenever you want to."

"I don't think I'll ever take it off."

He grinned.  "Well, stud, you might not want to wear it at the gym.  Or to the doctor's office for a physical exam."

"Well, maybe not.  But I don't care who knows you gave this to me and what it means about us.  I'm SO happy, loverman.  Thank you."

We climbed into bed, and he put his arms around me and kissed me first passionately and then tenderly until we were both ready to fall asleep.


>From the first time that cute guy sat at the same table I used in the library reading room, I thought he looked familiar.  He was a great-looking dude, and he seemed like someone I should recognize.

He'd smile at me every day, but he seemed shy, so I smiled back and then returned to my studying.  He was really hot looking, and I wished I could make myself say something to him.  But he looked kind of like a jock, and the chances were about 9 to 1 that he was straight, so I never did anything to get to know him.

It wasn't until the day when I looked up and saw him about to sit down with a very prominent boner that I figured out who he was.  Or who he might be.

He looked a lot like the guy on the cd I'd bought online that summer, except that the guy never had that many clothes on.  I'd seen this website.  What first attracted my attention was that one of the guys looked a lot like me.  I know people in this country think all Asians look alike, but that's just not true.  And there are a lot of countries and races in Asia.  We're as different as Europeans, for sure.  But that's not the point.

I saw this porn site with pix of a guy who, as I said, looked a lot like me.  That's what grabbed my attention.  Then I paid some attention to the guy he was sucking off.  He was a great-looking dude, with a fine, muscular body, but not too over developed.  He had black curly hair and a nice face.  I bookmarked that site and kept going back to it.  I'd beat off imagining that dude was doing all those things with me.  

Then one day they announced on the website that they had a cd of these two guys for sale, with pictures not available online.  Well, what's 25 bucks?  I sent for it.  And I'd been using it for jackoff material ever since.  So I was familiar with this dude.  Even with his face.  I'm not really into close-ups of two pelvises thrust together.  I want to see the guys' faces as they fuck or suck or lick each other.  And there was plenty of all of that on the cd.

So, that day when my "friend" arrived with his big woodie, something clicked in my brain, and I was sure, or pretty sure, it was the same guy.  I nearly passed out.  I didn't know what to say or do, so I didn't do anything except smile and nod at him and go back to studying.  Or trying to look like I was studying.

That day the guy couldn't sit still.  I couldn't have studied if I had wanted to because he was moving around so much in his seat, as if he was in pain, or his ass itched or something.  When he got up and left, still tenting out his pants in a major way, I knew where he was going.  So I gave him a few minutes, and then I followed.

The whole restroom reeked of cum.  He was there in the stall.  I wanted to go in and see if there was any cum I could lick up.  Instead, I took a leak and then washed my hands.  He came out just as I was leaving.  Screwing up all my courage, I smiled at him and asked, "Is that cum I smell?"

He didn't return to the reading room.  I didn't know whether I'd ruined everything or not.  I didn't even know his name.


The next day Terry and I didn't drive together, and I didn't see him until lunch.  He got to the cafeteria first, as he often did.  As I walked toward him carrying my tray, he was grinning at me.

"What's so amusing, Lathrop?"

"Things must be better with you.  You don't have a boner and I can tell you aren't wearing the cockstrap."

"Yeah, how can you tell about the cockstrap?"

"Your puny package has disappeared, that's how!"

I set down my tray, pulled out a chair, heaved the book bag off my shoulder, and sat down.  "Puny package, huh?  Well, buddy, you seem to spend a lot of time looking at it.  Sure you aren't just jealous?"

Instead of retorting, he took a bite of his burger, and I could swear he was blushing.  Interesting.  I wondered if Terry found me as attractive as I found him.  And then I remembered  that I wasn't supposed to be having thoughts like that and quickly dug into my french fries.

"So, Mike, Gage doesn't have you in any, uh, appliances today?"

I grinned.  "No.  I assured him I don't need anything to remind me how much I love him.  But, Ter, he gave me the coolest thing."


I told him about the chain.  

"I didn't know you had nip rings.  Cool!  What does it feel like when someone flicks them?"

"It drives me crazy.  Maybe my nips are more sensitive than others, but when anybody touches those rings, especially if they do it with their tongue, the jolt goes straight to my cock."

"Did it hurt much to have your tits pierced?"

"It wasn't comfortable, but looking back on it, it was no biggie."

"Cool!  I've wondered about doing that."

We finished our lunch and went our separate ways.  On the way home I took my chain to the jeweler Gage had told me about.  He was very nice.  He let me go into a back room where he "fit" the chain to my rings, allowing the chain to put just a little bit of tension on those rings.  That's the way I wanted it.  Again, it was to remind me of Gage, and the rings were pulled just slightly, enough so that I knew I was wearing it.  He told me he could always put more links in or take more out if I wanted to adjust the pull of the chain on the rings later.  

I had my shirt off when Gage got home so he could see the chain.  He pushed me down on the sofa and began to flick the rings with his tongue.  Then he took the chain between his teeth and pulled, causing both of my tits to distend.  I, of course, went crazy.  We wound up 69ing on the great room floor.

The next day, Wednesday, it was Terry's turn to drive us to campus.  The day went normally.  I saw and was aware of lots of sexy men and women, to tell the truth but I didn't get all hot and bothered about them.  I just reminded myself that I was one incredibly lucky guy.  When I thought about it I was aware of the chain with its oval with our initials, and I found myself putting my hand on my chest, feeling Gage's gift through my shirt.

Dr. M. looked good enough to eat, as usual, as we compared some poems by Donne and Herbert.  Having no cockring or buttplug to torment me, I at least started the class without a hardon.  He had on a blue oxford button-down and levis.  He had taken off his jacket and put it over the back of his chair, which he never sat in.  He was the sexiest little man I'd ever seen.  Well, there was always Jason, but the prof was better built.  Strong shoulders, muscular chest, with a tiny waist and ass.  And, short or not, he must have been well hung, for he had a very respectable package.  By the middle of the period I had to mentally slap myself around to get rid of the semi-woody I was throwing and to get my mind back on the poems we were considering.

After class I waited for the others to leave and then went up to Dr. M.'s desk.  

"Hey, Mike."

"Hi, professor.  I'm sorry about Monday.  I really did have to rush home."  True enough, but I wasn't about to tell him the reason.

"No big deal.  It's just that you had gotten into the habit of stopping after class with a question or a comment, and then for a week or more you seemed to rush out of here.  I just wondered if anything was the matter or if you had a problem I could help with."

Oh, God, the idea of him helping me with my "problem" had me getting hard again. "Uh, no, sir, it's just that for a while there I needed to get home as quickly as I could.  That's all taken care of, I think.  Please don't get the idea that I've lost interest.  I'm thinking seriously about majoring in English, and I am really enjoying this class."

"I'm glad to hear that, Mike.  I have enjoyed our brief chats after class.  Please don't hesitate to ask questions.  And I'm always interested in your in-class comments.  You don't have as much background in English lit as some of the juniors and seniors in the class, but you are a sensitive, intelligent reader.  You'd make a good English major."

Wow!  I couldn't wait to tell Gage what the prof had just said.  And then I felt relieved that I was thinking of Gage while talking to the hot man in front of me.

"Thanks, professor.  I really needed that encouragement right now."

"Come to my office sometime and we'll talk about your majoring in English if you'd like."

"I'd like to do that, sir.  And thanks again for the compliment."

"It was well deserved."  He picked up his class list and his textbook.  I noticed he didn't have any notes.  As we stepped out of the classroom into the hallway, he said, "You know, Mike, I think we have something in common in addition to our love of poetry.  See you Friday."

As I walked back to the car, I wondered about what he had said.  Finally, it dawned on me.  He must have noticed that as I rushed out of class those days I didn't wait to talk with him I had a boner.  Maybe he had noticed me looking at his nice bulge.  Was he suggesting to me that he was gay and that he knew I was?  Or maybe he really had that sense called gaydar.

Terry asked me in the car on the way home why I was so quiet.  I told him that my English prof had told me he thought I'd do well as an English major and that I had a lot on my mind.  He put his hand on the back of my neck and said, "Congratulations, Mike!  So, are you gonna go talk to him about it?"

"You know, I don't want him to think I'm sucking up or anything.  If it looks like I've got an A sewed up, I'll go see him before I register for second semester.  Maybe I'll ask him to be my faculty advisor."

"I've never seen him, but I've heard he's seriously cute."

I grinned.  "Yeah, he sure is."

"Watch it, there, Cronin.  You'll be in trouble again."

"Yeah, yeah."


Even with his afternoon classes, Mike got home well before I did most days.  When I went into the house from the garage, the smell of beef stew hit me.  

"I think I've died and gone to heaven, lover," I said after we had kissed and felt each other up awhile.

"Oh, you like my kisses?"

I grinned.  "Yeah, well, that too, but I was talking about the smell of the stew.  If it tastes as good as it smells, you've learned a lot about cooking in the last couple of months."

"Well, I've got a great teacher."  He nibbled an earlobe.  "He has great taste, and he tastes good, too."

I made some cornbread to go with the stew as Mike looked on.  I knew that he'd remember how I did it and surprise me with his own cornbread someday soon.  He was, as they say, an apt pupil.  And he seemed to enjoy cooking along with me as much as I enjoyed having him there.

I'd decided my concerns over his being underage so far as drinking was concerned were silly.  He didn't go out and run around with other guys his age, and by this point I would have trusted him anyway.  So whenever he wanted to drink beer or wine with me before and during dinner, I had encouraged him just to go ahead and do it.  I don't think he ever had more than two beers or two glasses of wine.  He seemed to enjoy sharing the experience of something to drink with nibblers before dinner and a refill with the meal.

"So, babe," I said, putting down my napkin.  "How are things going at school?"

He grinned at me.  "Well, I haven't raped anybody yet."

"My, such self-restraint!"  I chuckled.

"Actually, Gage, maybe all that, uh, discomfort with the cockstrap and then the buttplug seems to have worked.  Most of the time when I find myself looking at another guy, I think how lucky I am to have you.  And today I noticed I kept reaching up and touching my chain through my shirt and thinking of you."

"You mean you've suddenly quit throwing wood while you're on campus?"

He grinned again.  "I didn't say that.  It's just that I can control my erections, live with them now.  I see hot guys, but I think about the hot guy I've got here at home, and that's all I need to do to be happy."

"Well, Mikey, that's all I ask.  I see hot guys, too, and I get hard sometimes.  But then I remember I'm coming home to you, and that usually solves my, uh, problem."

"Haply, I think on thee . . . ."

"Yeah.  It's been a long time since I read that.  Who wrote it?"

"Shakespeare, I think."

I chuckled. "He said just about everything, didn't he?"

"Seems that way, doesn't it?"


I tried to hit the gym a couple of times a week by myself, and Gage went with me on Saturdays.  Those trips were paying off, and I found a new bonus that night.

Gage wanted me to sit on his pole and then fuck myself on it.  It wasn't my favorite position.  If I was going to be the bottom, then I wanted to do it doggie style or in the missionary position.  I really liked being a bottom, underneath my man.  Yeah, I enjoyed topping Gage once in a while when he asked me to, but my best moments were when he was on top, filling me with his beautiful cock.

That night, though, I found that I could go a lot longer bouncing up and down on Gage's pole than I could when we first met.  And the longer I could go, the more we both enjoyed it, so, as I said, that was just another bonus of my gym membership.  Of course, my calves and thighs looked better than they ever had, too, and Gage kept reminding me of that.

After he had come, he remained hard.  He pushed me up, so I knew he wanted me to get off him.  Then he put me on my back and lay on top of me, resting some of his weight on his elbows.  He began kissing me and humping his cum-smeared cock against my belly.  Soon my cock was covered with my precum and his cum, and both cocks were sliding around between our sweaty bodies.  The humping, which he told me later was called "frottage," and the kissing soon brought me off, and I pumped a big load of my own jizz between our bellies.  We lay there for a while, waiting for our breathing and heart-rates to return to normal.

"Sheesh, kid, you've really made a mess!"

"Moi?  You're the one who smeared his cummy cock all over me.  It's all your fault, you know."

Giggling like a couple of kids, we went into the bathroom and cleaned ourselves off with damp washcloths.  

Things were pretty normal at school on Thursday.  Friday morning I went to the library, as usual.  Kim hadn't been there on Wednesday, and I wondered whether my behavior on Monday had driven him away.  But he was in his usual place Friday.  I nodded and smiled at him.  He gave me the biggest smile he'd ever shown me and then went back to his reading.

Just before I was ready to leave, Kim got up and came around to my side of the big table.  He stuck out his hand and said, "My name is Kim Lee, and I don't believe I know your name."

I shook hands with him.  "Hi, Kim.  I'm Mike Cronin.  Nice to meet you.  Sorry about that scene in the john the other day."

He grinned.  "You had a problem we all have once in a while.  Don't worry about it."

Then he handed me an envelope, about 4 x 6 inches.  "Don't open this until you are someplace where no one is around.  But I thought you might like to see it."

I was pretty puzzled. "Okay, Kim.  Thanks.  See ya Monday, okay?"

"Yeah, Mike, same old time and place."

I got to the car before Terry, unlocked it and got inside.  Really curious about what Kim could have wanted me to see, I tore open the envelope.  There was a glossy color print, probably done on his printer.  It was a picture of Jason and me, naked and shaved.  Our hands were tied to something over our heads which didn't show in the picture.  We were kissing and our bodies were pressing together, our hard pricks trapped between them.  [See "Mike" Part 1, chapter 5.]

To be continued.