Date: Sun, 16 Sep 2012 06:50:42 -0700 (PDT) From: Macout Mann Subject: Delta Iota Kappa 9 This is a story about college and fraternity life. It contains explicit sexual activity between males. If such is offensive to you or if you are not of an age where reading such material is legal, please move on. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy the story. Your comments and criticisms are always appreciated. All emails will be answered. macoutman@yahoo.com. Please also keep these stories available to all without charge. Contribute what you can to nifty.org. DELTA IOTA KAPPA by Macout Mann Chapter 9 Christmas Vacation James' mom and dad met him at DFW and an hour later the Mercedes arrived at their English Tudor house in Highland Park. It was good to be home. During the drive James was kept busy answering all sorts of questions and he expected more when the family gathered for cocktails after he had emptied his bags. He was surprised and delighted, when his father offered him a martini. "You're going to give James liquor?" his mother asked in the tone of utter disdain that only a wife can use. "Sure," his father replied. "You know as well as I do, Mary, that on campus they drink every chance they get. No reason not to do it at home." Then to James he added, "Just do it in moderation." "Thanks, Dad," James said. "Well, I guess that leaves me out," his sister pouted. "I'll leave you all to be grown up. Call me when dinner's served." And like many a younger sibling, she went to her room to telephone girlfriends. "This is my first martini," James volunteered. "We drink mostly bourbon back at school. Tennessee Sour Mash, really." "Seems an odd choice," his dad mused. "Many years ago one of our fraternity brothers was a Dickel or knew a Dickel. Anyway, they got free Dickel for a while and it's been the preferred brand ever since." "Well, martinis can sneak up on you," his mother cautioned. "So you're happy with your choice of fraternities?" his father asked. "I was sorry you didn't pledge SAE." "SAE has a good bunch of guys," James wanted to be as politic as possible, "but I think DIKa was the place for me. It's got the best reputation at Sanderson and its members are the cream of the crop. Really." "Just so long as you're happy," his dad closed the discussion. "Have you met any nice girls?" his mother asked. "None I'm serious about," James grinned. "There's Jessica Ormond. I go out with her a lot. She's really fun to be with. Real pretty too. She's a Pi Phi." "From the East Coast?" "No. From Oregon." George's mother was waiting at the arrival gate at Logan Airport. She said that his father wanted to meet him, but a trial had been scheduled for today and he was still in court. George was not disappointed. He had been worried ever since getting "the letter," how his first meeting with his dad would go. He was sure nothing would be said, at least not when anyone else was present, but wouldn't there have to be tension? It was less than eight miles from the airport to their home in Chestnut Hill, but in Boston traffic it seemed to take forever. He also hadn't driven a car in almost four months, so he was concentrating on driving and was paying scant attention to his mother's questions about school. He didn't relax until they reached Cleveland Road and turned into the driveway of their home. Lunch was one of his favorites, New England clam chowder and a grilled cheese sandwich, something he'd never hope to see at Sanderson. His mother also told him that they were invited to a party at the Crenshaws that night and that he was included. "It's black tie, but there'll be a number of young people you'll know there," she said. "Might be fun. Let me get some rest this afternoon, and I'll plan to join you," George answered. "Good," his mother responded. "We're invited eight to ten." The Crenshaws had one of the larger homes in Chestnut Hill, but for their annual Christmas bash they still had to stagger the invitations so that no more than seventy-five or eighty party-goers were there at the same time. Also the list was carefully structured so that mere acquaintances came earlier and good friends later in the evening, while guests that knew each other well were hopefully invited at the same time. George unpacked and lounged around his room most of the afternoon. When his dad got home from court it was like nothing new had happened in their relationship. The three of them chatted about life at Sanderson, happenings around Boston, and the difficulties of being a judge. George's dad did say that he was making a speech in Washington in February and hoped to find time to drive over to see Sanderson. They had a light meal and then began to get dressed for the party. George was just about to pull on his tux jacket, when there was a knock at his door. It was his dad. "I just wanted to come by to properly welcome my son...and my brother," he said. He opened his fly and removed his dick, extending his hand at the same time. George fumbled to do the same. They shook. Then for the first time since he left for prep school at age twelve, his father embraced him. It seemed the most natural thing in the world. At the party George saw Clarissa Williams for the first time in several years. She was now at Wellesley and living at home. She had become a really attractive woman, tall, ebony haired, and dressed in a stunning off-the-shoulder cream-colored gown. Definitely attractive enough to remind George that if he wasn't straight, he sure wasn't gay. He made a mental note to give her a call while he was home. He was surprised to see an old friend from prep school, Benjamin Parks. He was visiting his aunt and uncle for Christmas. He was at Penn. Funny, Phillips-Andover was supposed to be the prep school for Yale. Yet George was at Sanderson. "Well, at least I stayed in the Ivy League," Ben laughed. They talked for the longest time talking about old times and the many pranks they'd played at Andover, then decided to have lunch at Durgin Park the next day. Durgin Park is world famous for being "the only place anything like this place anywhere near this place" and for having the best Prime Rib and Indian Pudding in creation, but it is not a place where you can have a "quiet lunch." So after lunch the boys found a quiet hotel bar where they were not likely to be carded. George ordered Dickel on the Rocks and was mildly surprised that the bar stocked it. He expected to be offered Jack Daniels instead. Ben ordered Scotch. "What the hell's Dickel?" Ben asked. "It's a Tennessee Sour Mash, like Jack Daniels," George answered. "They're both made in the same dry county. But it's the official drink of my frat, so..." "Oh? What did you pledge?" "Delta Iota Kappa." "Never heard of it." "It's a local, but it was the first frat at Sanderson and still number one. Does Penn have social fraternities?" George asked. "I know some of the Ivies don't." "Yeah," Ben replied, "and they're probably more important at Penn than any of the other Ivies. I pledged Sigma Chi." "Oh?" George laughed. "And do you have a sweetheart already?" "No," Ben said, "and I'm not going to." He said it with a note of finality. "Never say never," George responded. There was an awkward pause, then Ben said, "Hell, I may as well tell you. We may never see each other again. I'm gay!" "So you can still have a sweetheart," George smiled. "I don't have any problem with that." "What? You're gay too?" "No, but I've got a couple of good friends that are. Like I said, I don't have a problem with it. I've even messed around a little. But I still like girls." "Well, I'll be damned," Ben exclaimed. "I've known I liked guys, since I was seven or eight," he continued. "But you had to be real careful back at school. I knew a few boys that were gay, but we were afraid to do a whole lot. College is a lot different." "I never even thought about it back then," George admitted. No one met Max Paxton at the Oklahoma City airport. In fact he had been prepared to spend a day-and-a-half on the bus to get home for Christmas; but even at Sanderson there are football-crazy alums willing to stretch the rules to just a little bit to show loyalty to the team. So Max flew. He still had to take the Greyhound to Chickasha, where his mom and dad welcomed him home, but without the interest that James' and George's parents had shown about what had been going on in their lives. His dad did note that Sanderson's record was 1-9 and reaffirmed that he didn't understand why Max didn't go to a school that could win. His mother also asked if Max had met any nice girls, but he replied that he'd been too busy with practice and class work to worry about dating. "I did pretty good in my classes, though, Bs and Cs." Max did find time to hang out some with buddies from high school, but he found that he somehow didn't have a whole lot in common with them anymore. Instead, he found himself spending time alone wandering around town on his bike. One morning, passing by Shannon Springs Park, he stopped to take a piss. He'd just pulled his dick out, when the t-room door opened and a man about 35 sauntered up to the urinal next to him. As they both let it flow, Max's companion said, "How are you today?" "O.K.," Max answered. "You?" "Doing well enough I guess. You come here often?" The man had finished pissing and was now slowly half shaking-half massaging his tool. "Nah," Max said, "I'm just home from school for the holidays." "Didn't think I'd seen ya around. I've only been in town a few weeks. I'm a deejay at KHIK, the night man. Name's Amos, but I call myself Chuck on the air." He extended his hand and Max took it. Both their dicks were still hanging out as they shook hands. "You got a nice one there," Amos continued. "What d'ya like to do with it?" "You mean?" Max betrayed his innocence. "Yeah. You like to fool around?" Max's dick gave the answer Amos was looking for. The stalls had no doors, so Amos simply took the dick in his hand, then knelt, and guided it to his mouth. Max was terrified that someone would burst through the door, but he quickly succumbed to the glorious feeling emanating from his loins. Amos was an expert. He guided his lips from Max's knob to his pubes and back again over and over, until Max grabbed the older man's head and began to fuck his face in earnest. When he reached orgasm, Amos took every drop. "That sure as shit wasn't your first time," Amos exclaimed. "Why were you so damned hesitant?" "I never have done anything in a place like this," Max replied. "Well, you can usually find some action here. Not much, but some. But come to see me at the station sometime. Any time after seven." Then he was gone. William Hudson had arrived in Dallas the day before James did, but their schedules didn't permit them to get together until two days after James' arrival. The Hudson's home had had a small guest house in the back; and when Bill was to become a freshman in high school, his parents had turned it into a boy pad for Bill. He was the envy of all his friends. A little house of his own, completely private. He and James sprawled out in the den-like living room, bringing each other up to date. "...So Dad was disappointed," James was saying, "but I pledged the right fraternity for me." "Well rush week turned me off completely," Bill responded. "I dunno why really. All these guys running around worrying about pissing off somebody they'd never seen before just seemed silly as hell. So I stopped keeping appointments after the first day and decided to become an independent. And I was some lucky to get the roommate I did. I sometimes think we must be the only two gay guys in the whole university." "Fat chance of that," James said. Then careful not to even hint at any of DIKa's secrets, even that any of his partners were fraternity brothers, he went on to tell his friend know that he had had a pretty fun semester, when it came to sex. It wasn't long before they had moved to Bill's bedroom to renew their relationship more intimately. Christmas itself arrived much too quickly. George's family still held to hidebound tradition. The Christmas tree was not put up and decorated until Christmas Eve, and each member of the family brought out his presents and put them under the tree while the others oohed and ahhed. After a supper of New England chowder and plum pudding, they all attended the "midnight" service at Chestnut Hill's Church of the Redeemer. The presents were opened after breakfast next morning. The Christmas tree at the Winthrop house was already up when James arrived from school. James and his sister put their presents out sometime on Christmas Eve, but the others magically appeared along with stockings filled with nuts and candies sometime during the night. When they were opened, James' were pretty pro-forma, until he opened a small box about the size of a legal-sized envelope. Inside he found a check made to Commonwealth Motors, Norfolk, Virginia, for $5,144 and change along with a dummy key to a new Chevy Camaro Z28. James practically fainted. "I told you we'd let you have a car if you aced your grades," his dad said. "You've already got your return ticket, so the dealer in Norfolk will have somebody meet your plane and the car will be waiting for you. You just give him the check. It's also better to work with the selling dealer, if you have any warranty issues. The Camaro is a nice little sports car. I chose black, because you don't want to stand out too much." Max's mother's church didn't really hold with Christmas. Thought it was a pagan festival. His dad could care less. So they didn't celebrate a whole lot. They did put up a little tree with colored lights and tinsel and exchange presents. Max got a new pair of Adidas. George had taken Clarissa out three times. He knew Wellesley girls weren't easy, but he remembered overhearing his father telling a friend that Wellesley girls were easier than Radcliffe girls. Anyway, as they left a rather dull party, he said "I've enjoyed getting to know you again. I guess it'll be awhile before next time. I've put some champagne on ice in the trunk. Let's go someplace where we can say `goodbye' in style." "Oh?" "No problem. We can relax at a hotel my dad puts company guests up at." The hotel on Beacon Street was more like a motel really. The rooms all faced out on balconies and allowed access from outside. George told the desk clerk he was checking in his cousin. "Shall I put the bill on your father's account, Mr. Blaylock?" the clerk asked. "No." George answered. "This is family, not business. Put it on my American Express Card." He and Clarissa enjoyed the champagne. You can't really turn up your nose at Mumm's. Not too long after, Clarissa proved to be good. But as George fucked her, he couldn't help compare the experience with some of the "gay" encounters he'd had. He decided he was bi for sure. Max visited the restroom in the park several more times. Twice he had an encounter. It was three days after Christmas, however, before he decided to accept Amos' invitation. He told his parents he was going to hang out with the fellas, but he headed for the radio station. It was on the edge of town and was completely dark except for a light over the entrance. He could hear Amos voice on a speaker inside, so he pressed the call button and waited. When music started again, Amos came to the door, recognized Max through the peephole and let him in. Snow was on the ground outside, but the studio was very warm and Amos was shirtless. For the first time Max realized how good looking Amos was. Shoulder length black hair and a forest of fuzz all over his torso. He led Max to the control room, where there were lights. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again," he said. In the control room Max was shocked to see a guy he knew. Rick Hernandez was a year behind him and a lineman on the Chickasha football team. And Rick was not only shirtless, he was pantless as well. "Max Paxton!" he shouted. "Who'd have thunk it?" The number was ending and Amos put his finger to his lips to signal silence as the turned his mike on. "Having fun tonight rocking with Chuck," he said as he introduced the next song. Then, with the mike off again he said, "and we're goanna have some real fun tonight." He opened his fly, revealing a good eight inches of bone, and Rick got down between his legs. "You interrupted something, Max," he said. "You might as well get comfortable too," Amos said. As Max watched his fellow football player swallow Amos, he couldn't resist stripping down. Rick would suck all during the music, pause during the announcements, and then go back to work until the next break. After the third or fourth tune he asked Max, "You want some?" "Sure as shit," Max replied. He took Rick's place, but as he gave Amos pleasure, he felt Rick's fingers probing his ass and massaging his dick. "I wanna eat you, man," Rick said. "I sure as hell wish I'd known you liked to mess around before this." Max pulled off Amos long enough to say, "Something I learned about in college." Then he went back on Amos in earnest, finally bringing him to a climax. "Whooa!" Amos shouted into the microphone. "Nothing like the Temptations to get things hot here at KHIK, and here's another hit single." Turning off his mike, he added, "Goddamn, man, that was close!" Rick giggled obscenely and said, "Remember that time when Wes got you off on the very last note and you had to segue from one number to the next." He pulled Max down onto the rug. "Your turn now, man." Sure enough. Max would have loved to have realized he liked to fool around before this. Rick gave great head. Then Rick told Max he wanted to be fucked. "Yeah," Amos echoed, "Pound his ass in time with the music." What a way to finish Christmas Vacation. As luck would have it James and Max were on the same flight from Atlanta to Norfolk. Partly to lord it over Max and partly to be kind, James offered to drive Max to school and save him the wait for Sanderson's shuttle. As his father had promised, Commonwealth Motors' courtesy car was waiting at the airport, and in short order James was the owner of a brand new, shiny, black Camaro Z28. Max was overwhelmed, not only by the car, but that a kid his age could walk into a dealership with a check to pay for it like it was something that happened everyday. James told him that his dad has promised him a car if he got all A's first semester. Max knew his dad couldn't even get him a clunker, but he resolved to try to do better in school. Maybe if he graduated near the top of his class, he could at least get a good job. He'd never even ridden in a car like that. Copyright 2012 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved.