The Senator's Son -- Part 2

Disclaimer -- This is a work of fiction depicting a situation involving homosexual men.  If you are offended or are under the legal age to view such matierials, please do not read further.  By continuing, you agree that neither the author nor nifty are responsible for any actions that occur as a result of this story or an individual's interpretation.  Also, if you are a "bible thumper," please email me any comments you have.  I will rebuke every claim that you make.  If you have other comments, feel free to email me if you wish.  The address is


Part 2 --

"And how do you know he hates you?" Georgia asked.

"Because when I told them about Pedro, he got angry at me.  He wouldn't look at
me for the rest of the lunch.  Rose and Jackie were happy for me.  I could see it in their
eyes.  Antony looked at me though like he could have killed me.  I've never
uncomfortable around him until that day.  I mean...I don't know for certain that he hates
me, but that's the vibe I was getting from him."  As I sat across the room from this lady
with a commanding personality, I became more and more frustrated.  Never had I known
of Antony to get angry about anything.  But with this, I couldn't even get him to talk to
me.  He wouldn't return my calls; he wouldn't return my text messages.  The whole
situation had become a frustrating mess.  Rose suggested that I give him time; Pedro
suggested that I write a letter; Maya (my mother) said for me to come to Washington for
a few days and get away from the hustle and bustle that was Antony Moretti.

I didn't have the time, patience, or money to take any of them up on their
suggestions.  Classes were in full swing; and work, while it did provide a modest living,
wasn't enough for me to visit my family in DC right now.  And the more time I waited on
Antony to come around, the more torn up inside I was becoming.  Even though that
afternoon was a nice one, I still just wanted to go home and cry.  How could Antony hate
me so much?  What had I ever done to him to make him so angry with me?  Did I not
have the right to be happy, both physically and emotionally?  

Georgia snapped me back into reality by telling me that the session had ended.  
She was a great counselor in that she knew how to help me organize things in my mind,
but she never let the session go over an hour.  A melancholy feeling encompassed every
part of my being as I slowly progressed in heavy traffic back to my Southside apartment.  
The evening went along without much display of emotion.  I watched an episode of "The
West Wing" that I'd recorded on DVR, and ate a spinach burrito.  

The sound of my phone made me aware of things again.  A random Nashville-
area numbered appeared on my screen, so I answered, hoping it was Antony.  "Hello?"

"Hey.  I'm in Birmingham, and I'm coming over.  I'll be there in 10 minutes,"
Antony said in a low rumble.  Before I could say anything he hung up the phone.  This
was obviously going to be a conversation, over which he wanted complete control.  I
scurried around the apartment trying to arrange everything neatly.  When he knocked on
the door, my heart skipped.  Butterflies sprang to life in my stomach, and I longed again
for the day when Antony would go around singings "Josh and Davie, sitting in a tree..."

As I opened the door, he came in.  He didn't wait on an invitation to enter; he just
pushed me aside and took his coat off.  It was a Friday night, so I didn't put much into the
fact that a slight tinge of alcohol was on his breath.  "I've got something I need to say to
you," he said, pointing his finger at me.  

"What, Antony?"

"You're like a brother to me," he said, inching closer to where I was.  "I've been
running around for the last two weeks thinking of my brother, you, y'all together.  And
then I get to thinking of this other guy, and I cringe.  I want to kill him because I'm afraid
that he's going to take you away from us, from me.  I'm afraid that he's gonna make you
so happy that you'll go around saying 'Josh who?' or 'Antony who?'  I guess I'm afraid
of losing the only link I have left to my brother.  Will you fix me a drink?"

"How much have you had?"


"Why would you think you'd lose me Antony?"  I asked as I poured a drink for
the two of us.  Tequila was his beverage of choice, even though he was still far too young
to buy it himself.  

He took the shot glass to his mouth and swallowed the golden liquid as if it were
water.  His facial expressions and body movements were similar to Josh's, so I knew he
was simply trying to relax enough to put his thoughts in order.  "Because I just know that
I will.  It'll be just like when Dad married Isabella.  He'll make you happy and you'll
forget all about us.  Does he already make you light up like Josh used to?  You won't
want me to come down, and you won't want to come visit.  This is just the end of us as a
family.  First Josh and now you."  As he walked toward the door, I reached out, grabbing
his arm.  

"Antony Moretti.  Number 1...You're not leaving because you've probably had
way too much to drink.  Number 2...I should kick your ass for saying something like what
you just said.  I could never forget about you..."  As I attempted to comfort him, a look of
horror, anger, happiness, and sadness erupted on his face.  It was obvious that he knew I
was right; but his insecurities were telling him not to believe me.  "You'll have to just
trust me."

As Antony and I were talking, Pedro used his key and came in the front door.  
"I'm home," he proclaimed before realizing that Antony was there.  He looked like a deer
caught in headlights when he saw Antony's gaze.  If looks could kill, Pedro would have
died right there.  I knew it was going to take time for Antony to come around to the idea
of Pedro.  Pedro quietly walked in and to the bedroom, a suitcase in his hand, filled with
clothes he'd brought from his apartment.

Antony began to tense up.  "Calm down, Ant," I said to him as he looked at me.  
Inside, he was still a kid who needed a big brother.  I stood squarly in front of him for a
moment until he calmed a little.  Pedro wisely kept to himself in the bedroom, as Antony
could have and would have killed him if he'd come in prematurely.

"Dave," Antony said as he moved in to an embrace with me, "I love you bro."

"I love you too, Ant.  You're gonna have to trust me."

"I do, Dave," he continued as I held him tightly.

"You're not going anywhere.  OK?" I said, trying to reassure him that nothing
would change between the two of us.  I pulled him out of the embrace to look into his
eyes.  "When Josh was killed, I thought the world was over.  And you were there to tell
me that everything would be OK.  I want to be a part of your life.  I want you to be a part
of mine.  You are my little bro, and you always will be.  You have to trust me that I'm
not gonna leave you, dude."

"I will try.  Fix me another shot," he said, trying to smile through the anxiety of
the situation.  

"Give me your keys.  You're not going anywhere tonight.  Does your mom know
where you are?"

"No.  I left right after school got out."

"OK.  Let me call her to let her know where you are."

"She's gonna be pissed."

"Maybe so.  But I'm not letting you drive back to Tennessee tonight.  What if Jay
stopped you in Decatur or something?  He'd probably kick your ass and then give you to

"True," he said understandingly.  He'd met my brother, Jay, on a few occasions
and knew not to fuck with him when he was in cop mode.  I called Rose, explained the
situation, and then we set out for what promised to be an interesting evening.  Pedro was
still in the bedroom, but came out a couple of times to get water and make sure that we'd
not killed each other.

Pedro finally decided to join us in the living room, glancing at me to ensure his
safety.  I smiled at him, and he sat on the chair opposite the couch in the living room.  

"Hey Pedro," Antony said, smiling at Pedro.  He was too far drunk to care that the
man who earlier in the evening he utterly despised had joined us in the same room.  In a
moment, he mustered the energy to pull himself from the sofa where we'd been sitting.  
He walked to the chair across the room.  (Stumbling would more aptly describe the
movements he was making.)  By the time he arrived across the room, he almost fell into
Pedro.  "Don't get any ideas, Pedro.  I like pussy," Antony declared as Pedro reached up
to keep him from falling on him.  Pedro couldn't help but smile.  "Pedro.  I'm sorry for
being an ass to you when you got here."

"It's OK, man," Pedro said, smiling at Antony.

"No.  It's not.  When Josh died, everything went crazy for me.  Dave was there
for me.  I was there for him.  We needed each other.  He's my bro, ya know?" Antony
confessed in his stupor.  "I was just afraid of losing him.  It was me being selfish.  Please
don't hold it against me, or him.  Well, he'd like for you to hold it against him.  But that's
something for y'all to talk about," he said smiling, turning to look in my direction.

"Antony Moretti!" I exclaimed as Pedro laughed heartily at him.

"What?  You think he's hot.  He thinks you're hot," he said, returning his eyes to
Pedro, "You do think he's hot, don't you?"

"Yeah," Pedro said.  "He's an OK guy."

"OK?  Fuck, he's the hottest guy in Birmingham, next to me.  But I'm not gonna
be here until next fall," Antony declared, pointing his finger at his chest with pride.  "But
seriously, he is a hottie.  If I liked man-gina, I'd be fucking him."  The two of us couldn't
help but laugh at Antony's crudeness.  We both knew we had feelings for the other, but
weren't sure how to act upon it.  While the two were chatting with each other, I pulled
away and called Christopher.  Of course he was on a date, but decided to 'dump the loser'
and come see his "straight boyfriend," Antony.

It took Christopher no time to get to my apartment, and along with him were
Maria, Jamie, and Kyle, and Jose.  Jose wasn't an actual person mind you, but the kind of
friend that one might find in a bottle from the Tequila area of Mexico.  And of course,
Antony was glad to see the arrival of the five of them.  For a moment, I questioned his
heterosexuality as he and Christopher looked as they were soon going to go at it from the
way they held each other in their embrace.  Seeing him act like a teenager in heat, though,
around Maria made my mind snap right back much like a rubber band.  She soaked up his
attention also.  Anyone who was around could tell that they spent a lot of time talking
that night.  If we were looking for one of them, we always seemed to find both of them.  
(The only exception to this being when one was in the bathroom.  The other could be
found, though, sitting on my bed waiting on the one to finish with the facilities.)  

The rest of us were having a merry time in the living room, polishing off the
bottle of Jose quickly.  We laughed so hard at several points that one of neighbors began
banging on his roof for us to quiet down.  (Of course we didn't.  The guy that lived below
me was a homophobe who didn't like latinos or áfricanos, either.  So Orisha's "Cuba
357" was the perfect song to fuck with him.)

As nights went, this had turned out to be an awesome one.  Christopher and I had
resolved our differences.  Pedro and I knew definitely how we felt about each other, and
Christopher, at the end of the night went across the breezeway to the twins' apartment.  
Although he insisted that they didn't do anything, I found out later that the three-way
they'd had would have made a sailor blush.  Kyle and Jamie told me one story; after
being pressed on the issue, Christopher finally told the truth.  Antony and Maria
disappeared for more than an hour.  At their return, they both were pleasantly smiling,
and neither had a problem with sleeping on the pull out sofa together.  

This left the situation of where Pedro and I would be sleeping.  I offered to sleep
on the floor in my room, to let him have the bed.  He declined, saying that I shouldn't
have to give up my bed for a "houseguest."

"You can take it Pedro," I said, beginning to get frustrated because of our mutual
courtesies.  "Fuck it," I finally said, "Get in the damn bed.  We can share the bitch for
one night."  A naughty smirk came across his face.  "And get that idea out of your head,
Pedro," I added, albeit with an equally naughty smile.  

In my reaction, he saw a chance to make a move to advance our advancement.  
Seductively, he took his jeans off, followed by his shirt.  His socks weren't important; it
was his underwear that I was interested in.  Unlike his usual white boxers that contrasted
with his beautifully brown skin, he wore black trunks that clung to each of the curves of
the intended coverage area.  He turned around so that I had a good view of his ass as he
slowly moved the waistband of his underwear over each of his perfectly sculpted ass
cheeks.  When he returned to a frontal view, he looked at the front of his shorts, which
had an abnormal, yet nice, tent in them, almost like the one in my boxer briefs.  He
looked back and me, and again took the initiative.  He pulled down the waistband so as to
only show off a small part of the meticulously groomed bush he was sporting.  I was
going insane, as he revealed more and more of himself to me.  I bit my bottom lip in
anticipation for the final reveal.  When he finally revealed himself to me, it was far more
impressive than I'd thought.  Whereas I thought it would be around 8 inches, it turned out
to be more.  At least 10 inches hard was his dick, whom he'd named "Little Pedro."

"Little?" I asked, both jokingly and seriously.

"Well, when compared to the rest of me," he answered with a coy attitude be
evinced by his voice.  The smile he couldn't help but flash was even more attractive than
I'd previously thought.  

Without a word, he moved over to stand in front of me.  The polo and t-shirt that I
was wearing were removed to expose my caramel colored skin.  He wasted no time in
using his tongue and lips in places that had been long neglected.  The sensations were
electrifying.  From just the work he'd done on my nipples, I felt like I was going to
explode.  In one swoop, I was lying on my pack across the bed.  Moving in closely to my
face, he didn't kiss me.  Instead, he hovered his face over mine and let his hot, masculine
breath titillate every sense in my face.  His nose lightly grazed my adam's apple as he
moved back down to my chest to continue what he'd started with the nipples, giving each
equal attention.  During this, he found the time and free hand to undo my belt and the
button of my jeans.  Once he had completed his task, I lifted my ass so that he could take
off the jeans.  Much to my surprise, though, he took hold of not only my jeans, but also
the boxers that were underneath.  My dick sprang to attention.  Getting the pants down to
the desired level, he used his tongue to lick across each of my abdominal muscles and
around my belly button.  His chest hair slightly grazed the top of my penis.  I began to
ooze precum from the head of my penis.  I knew that the slightly attention would cause
the end to come well before it's intended time.  Rather than doing that, though, he
stopped using his mouth all together and started massaging each of the muscles in both of
my legs with the masculine, strong hands that he had.  Running his hands back up my
body, his face eventually met mine.  We'd made out a time or two of the last few weeks,
but none of them felt as electrifying as the one from this night.  'This will definitely go
down as the first kiss,' I thought.  

We kissed for so long, our naked bodies intertwined together.  Carefully moving
himself out of the embrace and kiss we'd moved into he went to his suitcase.  I couldn't
tell what he was getting out, but I knew that there was a really good chance that we'd
both like it.  He returned to the bed and kissed with the same passion he'd started with
earlier.  He moved down again with his tongue, licking from my lips to base of his cock.  
Keeping only his tongue in contact with my body, he licked all over the area.  My balls
received the attention they'd longed for.  He took each of them into his mouth, pulling
and tugging at them, driving me into a state of ecstasy.  I wanted to cum all over his head
at this point, but with his instruction, I tried to hold back my cum.

Within a few minutes, he'd grown tired of my balls, and had stood on his knees
between my legs, sticking on finger in my asshole.  It felt so good to have someone inside
me again.  When he felt my awaiting hole was ready for him, he put on a condom and put
the head of his dick against my dick.

"Are you ready?" he asked out of concern for my physical and mental health.  It
was a loaded question, I admitted, but nodded an affirmative response.

"No te doleré," he whispered.  (I won't hurt you.)

"Lo sé, papi," I answered back to him.  (I know, papi.)

Slowly he inserted the throbbing head into my dick and held it there.  The pain
was overwhelming, but eventually subsided as he patiently took his time to go deep
inside me.  With slow, long strokes he started.  In a moment, I was cumming, for the first
time.  Like a trooper he kept on.  This wasn't over for him until I couldn't stand up.  
Three more times I came before he felt the rumblings inside of him.  My body was
already littered with cum from my previous loads, so when he decided it was time, he
pulled quickly out of my ass, took off the condom, and moved over beside me, stroking
his dick with a quick pace.  Loudly he shouted to inform of the impending expulsion
from his sweaty, overworked body.  Suddenly, load after load of Pedro's juice squirted
onto my chest, chin, and in my hair.  While I felt nasty with all the jizz scattered over my
chest, I smiled out of sheer exhilaration.  Physical contact with another man had not been
something that I'd really wanted until I met him.  

I cleaned up myself, and brought a washcloth to Pedro.  By the time I returned, he
was already fast asleep in the bed.  An innocent look was on his face, the same innocent
look I'd seen ever morning for the past several weeks.  When we woke up the next
morning, we found we hadn't been the only ones to have a great time.  Antony and Maria
were curled up together on the sleeper sofa.  They also looked happy, especially Antony,
with a giant grin on his face.

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