Date: Sat, 20 Sep 2014 16:36:12 -0700
From: h.schreiber@hushmail.com
Subject: Come Christmas Steve Chapter 13 by Hans Schreiber

Come Christmas Steve

Chapter 13

Whittaker sat on Steve's bed dumbly contemplating how to convince me to go
to the authorities.  Of course, it was the sensible thing to do, but I
feared that it would only lead to trouble for Steve.  I just felt that in
my bones somehow. I also wanted desperately to believe that Steve was some-
how an innocent victim or at least an unwilling participant in whatever the
hell was going on. I sat slumped in the chair facing Whittaker, rubbing my
temples.

Whittaker cocked his head and focused his gaze on my feet and then up to my
crotch. He jumped from the bed and knelt between my legs placing his large
hands on my thighs.

"Geez, Whittaker," I grumbled. "Not now, I'm really not in the mood."

He looked up at me with a confused wrinkle of his brow as I gripped his
wrists to pull them away.  "What?" he asked, and then his expression
changed as he continued, "Oh! God no! I wasn't getting into position
here. You thought I ..." he snickered. "Dude, I'm not like Calvin. I just
saw something under your desk and I need to move you out of the way so I
can reach it."

He pushed me backwards against my bed and then crawled under the desk,
coming back up holding a crumpled business card. I felt foolish and stupid
over my bad assumption. "What is it?"  I asked.

"It looks like a business card from that parole officer who visited you,
Officer Stankowski.  Maybe we could call him. You made it sound like he was
sincerely interested in helping."

"I don't know."

"We're kind of getting out of our league here. Maybe he could get something
out of Todd that we aren't able to. He's got resources we don't have and
he's not like a regular cop who might just be out to get an arrest. Think
about it."

I did think about it and my initial reaction was to reject the idea. But as
I let it filter through my cluttered consciousness, it made some
sense. "No," I said. "Not yet." Whittaker shrugged and put the card in my
desk drawer exhaling an exasperated sigh. Whittaker crossed his legs Indian
style and sat back against Steve's bed. After several minutes of silent
contemplation, he said, "I just remembered, Jensen mentioned that some
P.I. had talked to him and wanted to talk to me. You said maybe it was the
parole officer. Wanna go see what Jensen got asked and what he told him?
Maybe there could be a clue."

I brightened. "Sure. Good idea."

I followed on Whittaker's heels down the hall to their room. Whittaker
turned the key and we barged in to discover Jensen lying on his bed with
his shorts down around his ankles and his t- shirt pulled up over his
neck. He was slowly stroking his erection and tweaking one of his nipples.
We stopped and stared, and then we snickered.

Jensen jerked upright and amidst a string of curses, grasped at his shorts
and boxers to pull them up. "What's the big idea?" he barked.

"Dude, sorry. We didn't know. You forgot the 'Do Not Disturb' sign."

"I thought you were staying over with him." Jensen pointed at me before
reaching back and pull- ing his t-shirt back over his head.

"You don't have to quit just cuz we're here. We don't care if you jack
yourself off. We've seen it already out in the woods, remember?" Then
Whittaker flicked his eyebrows and added, "In fact, if you want us to lend
a helping hand again, we'd be glad to accommodate you. Wouldn't we Shane?"

"No thanks," Jensen fumed.  "That was a onetime thing. I'm not a f -, I'm
not like that." He sat up on the edge of his bed, letting his smooth bare
legs dangle. "So why are you here, anyway?"

"Oh, you mentioned earlier that some private investigator talked to you and
wanted to talk to me also. We need to ask you about it."

"Like what?" Jensen huffed, still annoyed.

"Like, what did he look like?  Was he stocky with a thick neck? Did he show
you his badge? Are you sure he didn't say he was a parole investigator?
What did he ask you?" I blurted.

"Geez, slow down," Jensen whined as he spun around and sat up. "He didn't
have a badge and he wasn't a parole officer. He said he was a private eye
and he looked just like they do in the movies. He had a kind of hard look
and raspy voice. He sounded like a chain smoker does with that kind of
gravelly voice, you know? My Uncle Donald smoked his whole life and he
sounded like that. His brown overcoat was all wrinkled and he fidgeted a
lot."

The color drained from my face when Jensen mentioned the brown
overcoat. "Oh shit. What did you tell him?" I muttered as I made my way to
a chair. I dropped into it and glared at Jensen.

"What? You guys gotta start telling me what's going on. Why are you so
worried about this guy?"  Jensen asked.

"He's no private eye. He's the bad guy who came looking for Steve and said
Steve had some- thing of his he wanted back. He threatened me. I'm guessing
he works for whoever's behind that stuff on the thumb drive. You didn't
tell him about the thumb drive, did you?"

"N,n,n,n,no. NO! No-no, I know better than that. Of course I didn't."
Jensen clenched his petite toes in an apparent nervous twitch. "He just
wanted to know all about you and Steve. He asked if you were guys were gay
and if you were lovers. I told him yes, since he seemed to already kind of
know that. He asked about who else you guys hung out with and I told him no
one, really. He asked about what classes we took and what we did for
fun. He asked if we all worked and I told him. He asked me lots about Steve
that I didn't know because Steve never really talks about stuff. He asked
about you guys' fight and I told him what I knew about it and that was
about it.  Oh and I told him about our cool trip to Yellowstone and he was
really interested in hearing all about that. He asked all kinds of
questions about why we went there and what we did. Of course, I left out
the part about what we did out by the waterfall."

"Why would you tell him all that shit?" Whittaker scolded.

"Why wouldn't I?" Jensen shot back. "I thought he was a private
investigator hired to help find Steve and that's what we want, isn't it?"

"Yeah, that's what we want," Whittaker answered. "But we'd like him to be
in one piece when we do find him." Turning to me, he added, "Let's go."

"Wait," Jensen called out. "He left his number for you to call him. He
wants you to call and talk to him too, Whittaker." Jensen reached for his
backpack and pulled out a notebook. He flipped through it and then ripped
the page out. There was a number scrawled on it.

I got up and traipsed behind Whittaker, still stunned at what Jensen had
done. "You can go back to your jack-off session now, blabbermouth."
Stopping, Whittaker twisted and said, "Unless you've changed your mind and
want one of us FAGS to help you out after all."

Jensen dropped off the edge of the bed, picked up a shoe and flung it at
Whittaker. "Fuck off!"  he yelled as the shoe hit Whittaker's shoulder and
dropped to the floor. Whittaker was laughing in deep satisfaction as he
pulled the door shut.

"It's not my fault!" Jensen yelled through the closed door. "How would I
know who he was? If you guys would tell me what's going on...?"

"He was lying, you know," Whittaker said to me in the hallway.

"What do you mean?"

"About the thumb drive. Chicken Little in there totally spilled his yellow
guts to that dickhead thug about the drive. He just didn't want to admit it
to us."

"Yeah, I figured."

"Why would he want to know all that stuff about you and Steve? And why
would he be so inter- ested in our trip to Yellowstone?" Whittaker asked.

"I don't know. Makes no sense." I opened my door and we went in. "I can't
think about this any longer tonight. I'm going to bed."

"Yeah," Whittaker agreed. "Good idea."

We stripped to our boxers and climbed in bed. I missed not brushing my
teeth and washing my face, but I didn't have the will to get out of bed and
go down the hall to do it. "Hey Whittaker," I said rolling to face him.

"Yeah?" he answered from Steve's bed.

"Thanks. I don't know what I'd do without you. I really don't."

There was a pause, then a short reply, "No problem, dude. I care about you
guys."

Grateful appreciation was the last thing I remembered feeling as I drifted
off to sleep. What seemed only minutes later, but had to be much longer, I
reasoned, I was stirred by the sound of the door opening. I smelled him
before I recognized him. I watched only half aware as he un- dressed and
then slipped into my bed, pulling me into his arms. He whispered softly
into my ear.  "Shane, I'm so sorry I left you like I did. Please forgive
me. Please, please forgive me."

"Oh, Steve, Steve, of course I forgive you. I'm so relieved you're safe. I
love you so much and I've been so worried about you. Where have you been?
What's going on?" Relief washed over me and tingles ran up and down my
spine.

"I'll tell you all about it in the morning. Right now I just need to hold
you and be with you. Is that okay?" he asked tenderly.

"Sure. You'll tell me everything in the morning? No holding back?" I asked.

"Everything. I promise," he assured me in his soothing baritone. "I'm sure
you've heard some horrible lies, and I'll clear them all up in the
morning." I kissed him and he pulled me over on top of him. I remembered
that Whittaker was in the next bed and I started to warn Steve, but then I
figured, he'd seen it all before so..."

We began groping each other's naked bodies and I began slowly grinding my
engorged penis into his body.

He responded by squirming beneath me while we kissed with deep, passionate
tongue thrusts.  The joy and relief I felt at Steve's sudden and miraculous
return propelled me into a fit of lustful passion. I accelerated my
grinding into an intense thrashing against his hardness. A sheen of sweat
provided the necessary lubrication for the crazed frottage. The resulting
climax was in- tense and powerful. Round after round of thick cum careened
through my hardness and ex- pelled between our sweating, heaving bodies.

I lay there panting to regain my breath and reveling in Steve's return when
I was startled by the sound of the key in the door lock. I woke to find
myself alone in my bed and confused. I looked over at Whittaker but he was
gone also. I struggled to make sense of things. Had Steve cum and gone
again? Had he simply used me for sex and then disappeared again without
keeping his promise to explain things to me? Or, had it been Whittaker
pretending to be Steve using me to satisfy his urge? I rolled to my side
and pulled the blankets away to reveal my cum soaked belly and the bed
beneath me. I was completely naked and my boxers were nowhere to be
seen. The pillow lay lengthwise under my torso and the stain on the bed
looked to be like a gallon of cum.

The door opened and Whittaker walked in wearing only boxers. He tossed the
key on my desk and said, "Ah, you're awake."

 "What's going on? Where's Steve?"

"Dude, you had one helluva sweet dream. You woke me calling out Steve's
name and moaning like crazy. Then you started humping your bed like a rabid
jackrabbit. Just before you climaxed, you called out, 'Cum Shaney Cum!' and
I started to laugh as you pounded load after load into your mattress. It
was one fucking hot show, dude."

"So it was just a dream?"

"Yeah, sorry about that part. But yeah, it was just a dream."

"Where did you go?" I asked sadly.

"Well, since I was awake, I realized I had a full bladder. So once the show
was over and you collapsed like a dead man, I went down the hall to take a
wicked piss."

I shivered. The cold air on my damp skin sent a chill through me. "A
dream," I muttered. "A stu- pid, fucking dream." I slammed my fist into my
cum drenched pillow repeatedly and cried out, "Where are you Steve? Where
the fuck are you?"

Whittaker came over and put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it
reassuringly. "We'll find him, Shane. I promise. We won't quit until we
find him." I gave my bed one last frustrated fist pounding and yelled out,
"Aaargh!" Then I turned to Whittaker and said, "Thanks. I couldn't do this
without you."

He just smiled and crawled back into Steve's bed. I lay back down in my
pool of cum and pulled the covers back over me. It was wet and sticky and
uncomfortable. The pool of sticky discharge was full of empty
disappointment so I threw the covers back off and grabbed a towel. I went
and took a long hot shower.

When I returned, Whittaker had stripped my bed and added my other whites
from my dirty clothes hamper to them for washing. I smiled
appreciatively. "Who are you, dude? If girls could see the kind hearted,
good person you are, they would be crawling all over each other to date
you."

He smirked. "Nice of you to say. Wish it worked like that." Then he asked,
"Wanna run?"

"I just showered, but I could shower again. Sure."

"Sweet. I'll go get dressed and meet back here in a few."

"You better knock before you enter in case Jensen is in the middle of
something again," I joked.

"Fuck him. I may just wake him up by slapping my big dick across his face
just to screw with him."

I smiled and shook my head. "That's the part of you that makes it hard for
you to get dates."

He smiled back and said, "Yeah, I know. But I just love that part of me too
much to let it go."

I finished drying the crevices and got my running gear on. We met up in the
hall and we had a great four mile run together. It felt good. I worked out
what I was going to ask Todd and how I was going to get him to tell me all
he knew. Whittaker and I showered and when we came back in to get dressed,
Whittaker's phone was blowing up. He had like twenty messages and calls
from Calvin.

Whittaker tossed his towel on my bed and called Calvin back. "What's up,
dude?"

Calvin told him he'd found more stuff on the drive we needed to see. He
told us to get our cute asses over there right away. We dressed and hustled
our cute asses over to Calvin's apartment like he'd instructed us to
do. "No mention of payment required this time?" I asked Whittaker as we
approached the building.

"No. I guess I still got credit coming from the all-nighter," he joked. I
laughed.

"That's funny. Credit CUMming. Get it? CUMming."

"Yeah, dude. I get it. You're not as funny as you think you are, but none
of us really are, I guess."

Whittaker knocked and then let himself in. The place was the usual mess and
we found Calvin at the computers wearing a pink Apple t-shirt and black
sweats. He smiled at me and leered at Whittaker's crotch. "You better sit
down."

He tapped some keys and said, "I cracked some more files and you won't
believe what I found."  Calvin was almost breathless with excitement at his
latest discovery. I took his recom- mendation and sat down. It's a good
thing that I did. I was not prepared for what he showed me.

"First off, I have this gem. A folder labeled 'Simbaz Boyz' with some
amazing stuff in it." Calvin opened the folder and began randomly opening
files. Young naked boys ranging in age from twelve to fifteen in various
states of arousal and engaged in various sexual activities appeared.  The
younger ones were mostly solo shots posing seductively or occasionally
playing with an- other boy of his similar age. The older ones were engaged
in much more advanced acts includ- ing, on occasion, interacting with an
aging, overweight guy with a hairy chest. He was wearing a ski mask to hide
his identity. Some of the older boys were shot in a barren, cold grey
concrete room with chains hanging from the ceiling that the boys were
strapped into. In those shots the old guy in the mask was always
present. The younger boys all had the same short buzzed haircut.  "This is
obviously being done in the states," Calvin deduced. "Since the boys are
mostly cir- cumcised and the furnishings, in what clearly appears to be
cheap motel rooms, are blatantly American. In fact, I guessed it's in the
west somewhere from some of the art on the walls."

"Simba," I said out loud. "Like the mystery guy on Facebook."

"Exactly. This links the thumb drive to Steve and this Simba guy. But what
you're about to wit- ness seals the deal." Calvin opened another folder
containing multiple file folders all with titles that began with 'SF'. The
first one was opened and I gasped aloud. So did Whittaker. Calvin started
clicking on the thumbnails and expanding pictures of Steve when he was a
little younger, maybe 15 or 16 in similar motel rooms as the Simbaz Boyz
pictures. He was naked and usually aroused. He was often engaged in sex
acts with the same old hairy guy as in the other files.  Then, more
shockingly, there were pictures of Steve with the younger boys. Usually
just one at a time, but sometimes two or three others, naked and often
erect. I didn't see any of them en- gaging in sex together but I suppose
they were there. I couldn't take it after the first dozen or so.  "I tried
to tell you," Calvin gloated. "Your BF's a creep and very involved in a
kiddie porn racket.  We have to turn this all over to the cops. Whether you
want to or not, I'm doing it."

I tried not to cry, but I couldn't stop myself. I choked it back and just
shook at first, struggling not to cry until it just erupted. I poured out
all the disappointment and stress and sadness. I sobbed in great heaves and
Whittaker knelt beside me and pulled me into his arms. No one spoke until I
finally started to get my composure back. "Dude, I'm so sorry," Whittaker
finally said.  I just nodded. I still couldn't find my voice.

"If it will make you feel better, it kind of isn't all his fault. He was
apparently a victim before he became a perp. Look at these other files,"
Calvin said. Then he opened a sampling of other files with the SF on the
front of the file names and we witnessed Steve from about age thirteen
aging up until he appeared to be around sixteen. In the younger aged files,
he was engaged in sexual posing and mild sex play at first until he began
engaging in all manner of sexual activities with the old guy and other boys
Steve's age. He looked uncomfortable and unhappy in many of the early
pictures, then as he aged into puberty, he looked more resigned and in some
cases as an older teen, totally into it. I started to cry again. I felt
intense hatred for whoever the old guy in the pictures was since it was
obvious that he was the ring leader. He'd destroyed my Steve.

"Stop! Go back!" I called out. "Look. Whittaker, you recognize the kid
Steve's fucking in that one?"

"Oh my god," Whittaker gasped. "It's Todd."

"Exactly. I knew he was somehow more involved. I just knew it," I
said. "That Simba connection was just too coincidental."

"The good king," I said. "The good king, Simba."

"What?" Whittaker asked.

"Something Steve told me at Christmastime up at the ranch. He said that
when he moved up to the older boys dorm, that there was always a boy who
was kind of the alpha. He called him the king. He said when he first moved
up to the older dorm, there was a bad king who hurt him a lot.  Then he
said a good king, named Daniel, I think the name was, challenged the evil
one and sort of dethroned him and took over. Daniel liked Steve and
protected him. Steve loved him for it.  Think about it. Simba, from the
Lion King, was the cub who failed and then came back and took over and
fixed everything and then became a worthy king. This obviously all has to
be connect- ed to the boy's home. Simba has to be connected to the boy's
home still or why else would he have responded like he did on Steve's
Facebook page? We have to go there." I wiped my eyes and stood up, feeling
empowered with my newest epiphany. "Like now."

"Do what you want. I'm calling the cops and turning this shit over. I don't
want to get caught with it and accused of any involvement," Calvin
insisted.

"Yeah. Fine. I don't deny that the cops have to know about this. How about
we do it through the parole officer who visited me though?" I asked.

"Sure. Saves me from trying to figure out how to report it," Calvin agreed.

"Let's go call him right now," I said. I realized it was definitely time to
involve him. This really had escalated beyond my wildest imagination. But
witnessing Steve, as a young boy, being subjected to abuse convinced me
more than ever that he was feeling trapped in a situation not of his
making. I couldn't shake the images of him as an older teen with the young
boys and that trou- bled me beyond words. Still, I wanted to hear his side
of things. Another image that haunted me was of Steve around age 13 or 14
lying beside and grasping the old hairy guy's stubby erection.  The look of
complete disgust and disdain on Steve's face told the whole story. The old
man had his hand on the back of Steve's head and was pushing it towards his
repulsive penis. Steve was resisting and his expression reminded me of my
brother, Billy, when my mother forced him to eat asparagus against his
will. Immediately after the first bite, Billy vomited all over the table.
That was the last time he was ever forced to 'just try' anything at the
table. I wondered if Steve had the same reaction after he was forced to
'just try' sucking off the old man.  Whatever Steve had done, or agreed to
do, I felt sure he was coerced into it at first. I wanted to know he was
safe. I still cared about him no matter how disappointed I was in the
things he'd done. I wanted to hear his side of all of this. But, I knew
that Calvin was right and the authorities had to finally get involved.

We all marched back to my dorm, once Calvin bundled himself up like an
Arctic explorer, and I retrieved the card from my desk drawer.

"This is Officer Stankowski."

"Hello, this is Shane Steel, I'm Steve Fahrenh..." I was drowned out by the
rest of the voicemail message.

"Leave a message. Speak slow and plainly. If I can't understand you, I
won't call back." Officer Stankowski's voice was commanding with an edge of
annoyance in it. A loud beep sounded in my ear and I began leaving a
message, speaking slowly and as plainly as possible.

"This is Shane Steele. I am Steve Fahrenheit's roommate. I have important
information for you.  Please call me at 555-312-7877."

"Good. I'm glad this is about over and off my mind and out of my
computer. Nasty fucking busi- ness," Calvin declared. "Speaking of nasty
business, how about we get naked and nasty our- selves. We could have a
little threesome action to celebrate cracking the codes. We might get some
kind of reward for breaking up a kiddie porn ring."

"No thanks," I said. "I'm really not in the mood. You two can if you
want. I'm going to the library and see if I can get some studying done. I'm
falling behind in my classes because of all of this shit."

"Your loss, cutie. What about you, Whittaker? Wanna fuck me with that
big-ass dick of yours?  You can shove it all the way in and tickle my
tonsils just like last time."

"Uhh, I, umm," Whittaker stammered.

"Dude, don't hold off on my account," I said, gathering my books and
stuffing my backpack. "I'm leaving and you're welcome to use the place. You
know where the essentials are kept in my desk drawer. Help yourselves and
have fun. Hell, you deserve it." Then I paused and looked Calvin in the
eyes as I added, "Thank you for all the work you did on this. Even though I
don't like what you found, I appreciate the work you did so we at least
know the truth about what's on the drive. Maybe it will help us find Steve
and hopefully help him. If he can be helped." Then choking back emotions, I
added my biggest fear, "If he even wants to be helped."

"Yeah. You're welcome. Sorry I was a bit of an asshole about it at first."

"Apology accepted." I suddenly and unexpectedly grabbed the sides of his
face and planted a firm and rather lengthy kiss on his soft lips. When I
pulled back, we both stared at each other a bit dumbfounded. "I'm not sure
why I just did that. Out of appreciation I guess. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Let's do it again," he said. "Are you sure you won't join
us? I'd love to suck that sweet dick of yours and swallow your hot
sauce. Please? I mean realistically, even if you find Steve, I mean, when
you find Steve, it's probably over between you two after seeing what we saw
on the drive, right? So, why not have some fun together. I think you need
it. You're as tense as a whore in church."

I thought about it. I imagined myself tearing my clothes off and getting
sucked by Calvin while Whittaker filled my aching ass with his giant
dick. My heartbeat quickened and my palms started to sweat as I thought
about it. My dick even swelled some and I became aware of it straining in
my pants. "No. I'll pass. Maybe another time."

This time, Calvin grabbed me and kissed me. He tested my lips with the tip
of his tongue but I did not open to receive it. He broke off and said,
"Okay. I respect that. I'll just keep fantasizing about it."

"Okay." I giggled. It was weird to be such an object of desire to
someone. Why he was so fixated on me, I had no idea, but I'd be lying if I
didn't admit that I found it a tiny bit flattering. "You two have fun. See
ya."

I headed to the library and had just barely gotten into my science reading
when my phone buzzed. It was Officer Stankowski. I tapped the green icon
and said in my hushed library voice, "Hello, thanks for calling back."

"What you got?" He growled.

"There's a couple of things. Steve left behind a thumb drive for a computer
and I had a guy crack the coding on the files. It was full of ..."

"Full of what?" he demanded.

"Full of awful images of kiddie porn. Steve was in some of them."

There was a pause.

"Umm, are you there? Did you hear me?"

"Yes. I heard you. Why in God's name didn't you tell me about that before?
I knew you were holding back on me. Do you have the drive?"

"Yes. Well no."

"What the hell do you mean, no?"

"Well the guy who cracked the code for me. He has it."

"What's his name?"

"Calvin."

"Calvin what?"

"I don't know. I can't remember. I'm not sure I ever heard him say his last
name."

"Where does he live? Is the drive there?"

"Yes. I do know that. It's the Livingston Apartments across from campus,
22B."

"Anybody else know about what's on that drive?"

"No sir. Well, except for my good friend Whittaker. He knows. He's helping
me try to find Steve."

"What's Whittaker's last name?"

"Whittaker," I said. I was a bit flustered.

"No, God dammit, his last name."

"Whittaker. Whittaker is his last name. We just always call him by his last
name."

"Well then what's his first name, God dammit."

"Umm, David. David Whittaker"

"All right. I'm coming over there right now. Get Whittaker and Calvin and
meet me there. Under- stand?"

"Yes sir."

"God Dammit!! What else?" He barked.

"Excuse me?"

"What else? You said you had two things to tell me."

"Oh. Right. Well there's this other guy here at State who knows Steve and
who was in the boys home with Steve and he was on the thumb drive too,
having sex with Steve. Whittaker and I talked to him but he denies knowing
where Steve is, but I think he's lying. You should talk to him."

"His name Todd?" Officer Stankowski asked.

"Umm, yeah."

"Already talked to him. He don't know shit. So is that it?"

"Oh. Umm, I guess so then. Yeah."

"All right. Fifteen minutes. Be there." There was a click. I hung up and
started frantically stuffing my books back into my backpack.  My heart was
racing. I was scared about meeting up with Officer Stankowski. I wondered
if I would be in trouble for holding back on the thumb drive in-
formation. Even worse, I worried I may have gotten Whittaker and Calvin in
trouble too some- how. I rushed back to the dorm.

I quickly unlocked the door and barged in, leaving the door open. There on
Steve's bed lay Whittaker on his back, stark naked. Calvin, who was also
naked, was straddling Whittaker's hips and had impaled himself on
Whittaker's massive staff, riding it at full gallop. Both of them had their
eyes shut and heads tossed back. They were really into it and appeared to
be very near or- gasm.

Commotion in the hallway startled me into quickly shutting the door before
someone saw what I was witnessing. I turned back and dropped my pack to the
floor. The two on the bed did not even perceive my presence, being lost in
the intensity of their fucking action.

I leaned against the closet door and watched in sick fascination as Calvin
rode Whittaker's dick, rising and dropping back down while Whittaker bucked
his hips up into Calvin's plump ass cheeks. Both of them grunted and
groaned with contorted faces confessing their dazed state of sexual
lust. Whittaker was jacking Calvin's little hairless dick with his fingers
and Calvin had his hands on Whittaker's chest, tweaking his nipples while
he pushed himself up and down on Whit- taker's thick pole.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, oh, oh OH, OH, OHHHHH, FUCK!!!!!" Whittaker cried out
in a frenzied cre- scendo as he grabbed Calvin's belly fat and pulled him
forcefully down onto him while jerking upward at the waist, tense and
twitching. His feet pulled up tight and he curled his toes in the obvious
throws of a gut wrenching orgasm. "So...Fucking... GOOD!!" Whittaker cried
out be- tween spasms.

Calvin had taken over furiously stroking his own dick once Whittaker's
ejaculating started. Sud- denly, he whimpered, "Oh, oh, oh baby, baby,
yeah. Here I cum. Oh yeah, baby," Calvin cried out as cum started gurgling
from his small dick. Then he jerked as though he'd been hit with a jolt of
electricity. He cried out as a blast exploded across Whittaker's flushed
chest clear up to his neck with the velocity of a spiked volleyball. A
second one followed and then he collapsed on top of Whittaker, panting like
a hound after a rabbit hunt. Whittaker reached around him and slowly
caressed Calvin's plump, soft ass cheeks as the two savored the afterglow.

I gasped as I involuntarily creamed in my pants. The cool tingles attending
my unexpected or- gasm radiated through my body. I started to pant as well
from the intensity of the impromptu re- lease. For a moment, I regretted
not staying and playing with them. They suddenly became aware of my
presence and were startled. When they realized it was me, they broke into
the nervous laughter that accompanies relief.

"How long you been there?" Whittaker asked. He gripped Calvin's hips and
started pushing him off of his dick. Calvin had already slipped about half
way off when he'd collapsed down onto Whittaker's cum covered chest. Calvin
rolled off to the side as Whittaker attended to removing a very full
condom. He pulled it free and handed it over to Calvin, who to my surprise,
squeezed its contents into his mouth and savored it like fine wine -
swishing it around and moaning approval.

"Long enough. Damn, you two were really going at it. That was hella fucking
hot."

They both just smiled. There was no denying it.

"Why are you back so soon?" Calvin asked licking Whittaker's juices from
his lower lip.

"Oh shit. Officer Stankowski called back. He wants the thumb drive. He's
meeting us at your apartment in ..." I pulled out my phone from my
pocket. It was a bit slimy from my oozing cum.  "In about 8 minutes. Hurry
and get cleaned up and let's go." I grabbed a couple towels and tossed them
at them. "No time to shower, just wipe up as best you can and let's scream
over there."

I quickly pulled my pants and boxers off and my still boned up dick sprung
free. I started to wipe the cum off my groin when Calvin cried out,
"Wait. Let me clean you up." He rolled over Whit- taker and bounded over to
me.

"What? No. We have to hurry."

"Please. Please, please, please, please. I'll be quick. I promise. Oh
god. Please let me."

It was almost pathetic, but in an oddly erotic way.

"Oh, okay. But hurry up."

He burst into a big smile and dropped to his knees. The horny shit gripped
my ass cheeks and plunged into my crotch licking and slurping my residual
cum. "Mmm, so sweet. I love it," he moaned. Then he tipped my dick downward
and plunged his mouth over it, dragging his tongue up the length to get the
last of my cum off of it. He continued to suck me five or six times and I
had to admit to myself that I liked it, but then I remembered our time
demands and pulled him free.

"That's enough. Get dressed."

"Ahhh. Okay. It was nice. You have such a nice suckable dick. Just the
right size. And your cum. Your cum is soooo sweet and tasty. MMMMmmmm."

I snickered nervously. It was kind of weird the way he was overdoing
it. "Yeah, okay. Get dressed. Officer Stankowski is more than a little
pissed off that I didn't tell him about the thumb drive to begin with and I
don't want to make him any angrier by making him wait."

We all quickly pulled our clothes on. Calvin bundled back up in his Eskimo
gear and we headed off to Calvin's. When we got there, Officer Stankowski
was pacing. "What took you?" he growled.

"Sorry. It took me a little while to find these two."

"Yeah. So let's go see what's on this drive," the officer snarled.

Calvin opened the door and stepped in. "HOLY SHIT!!!" Calvin yelled. Then
he sprinted down the hallway in a panic. The three of us paused and watched
him go, wondering what had upset him so much until we crossed the threshold
ourselves.

"God Dammit!!" Officer Stankowski barked. Whittaker and I looked at each
other and muttered our own expletives.

__________##__________

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Things are heating up. What upset them
about Calvin's apart- ment? Who can be trusted? Who's telling the truth and
who's lying? Where is Steve and is Todd more involved or just a bystander?
What about Simba? Who is he? Keep checking for the next chapter.

Oh, and keep donating to Nifty so the platform stays open. Otherwise, you
might never know the answers. Hehe.

Hans Scheiber h.schreiber@hushmail.com