Date: Thu, 9 Oct 2003 04:45:10 -0700 (PDT)
From: Tim Mead <timmead88@yahoo.com>
Subject: Dr. Tim and the Boys, ch. 32

The following fictional narrative involves sexually-explicit erotic events
between men.  If you shouldn't be reading this, don't.

In the world of this story, the characters don't always use condoms.  In
the real world, you should care enough about yourself and others to always
practice safe sex.

The author retains all rights.  No reproductions or links to other sites
are allowed without the author's consent.

Special thanks go to Tom W.  Not only does Tom edit these chapters for me,
but he has written the Max/David scene in this chapter, a scene many of you
have told me you're eager for.  Thanks also to Evan for invaluable help
throughout, and to Patrick, Tom J., Ash, and Mickey.

It was almost exactly a year ago, on October 12, 2002, that the first
chapter of "Dr. Tim and the Boys" appeared here at Nifty.  I could never
have guessed that a year later the story would have run to 32 chapters with
many more to come.  Nor could I have guessed how many wonderful friends I
would have made as a result of this story.  My sincere thanks to all of you
for your loyalty and your lovely letters, and a special thank-you to the
Nifty Archivists for being so kind and helpful.

Timmead88@yahoo.com

Chapter 32:  Downs and Ups

TREY:

It was a warm fall, so mild it reminded me more of Tidewater Virginia than
Northern Ohio.  Things had settled into a kind of stalemate at the
apartment, except I found out that the big guy was doing my laundry.  God,
did that make me feel small, even though I knew Chaz well enough to know he
wasn't doing it to shame me.  When I discovered what he was doing, I
thanked him and then made a point of not letting much laundry accumulate.
When I did a load, I usually did his things, too.  So I figured we were
even on that score.

Kent seemed to adopt me after that evening we talked.  He'd show up at the
gym or at the cafeteria at the Union and suggest we have a beer.  He is a
great conversationalist, a guy who actually reads books and has ideas.  He
has an even disposition and a ready wit, plus he's fine to look at.
Besides, I was lonely.  It wasn't easy being on the outs with Chaz.  I
asked myself if I were using Kent to get back at Chaz and decided I wasn't.
I enjoyed his company, and he seemed to want mine.

I began to wonder if I was being unreasonable, holding a grudge as Chaz
kept saying.  But I was determined to wait for an apology.  I needed to
know that he really understood how hurtful it is to be publicly humiliated
by someone you thought loved you.  I remembered Tim's word that Chaz's
growing up isn't "linear," and I figured I could live with that.  But I was
looking for evidence that he'd learned something from this experience.  If
I caved, I'd not have any reason to think he'd understood what left me
feeling so emotionally bruised.

Anyway, I saw no reason to shun Kent's company.

Of course, I also saw Mark, Ced, Tim, Max, and Steve from time to time.  I
even had coffee one day with Raul.  His summer romance hadn't outlasted the
summer, and he was alone again.  That is, he wasn't sharing his place with
anybody.  He grinned and told me he seldom had to sleep alone when he
didn't want to, though.

I was really loving my course work.  Being an English major left me with
way more reading to do than I'd ever had before, but at least it was stuff
I enjoyed.  I felt almost guilty, getting credit for reading novels, drama,
poetry, and such.  There were library papers due for each of my courses as
well, and I began to love exploring the resources of the university library
as I did my "research."

The point of all this is that I wasn't just staying away from the apartment
to punish my partner.  I was busy with my academic work, and I saw lots of
other friends.  I took advantage of the beautiful fall weather to play
tennis two or three times a week with my teammates and, occasionally, with
Geoff Benton.

Geoff admitted to me, by the way, that he really liked Philip Halifax but
thought he was getting mixed signals.  One day Phillip would be really
friendly, and then he'd just not be around for a week.  Geoff said he
thought there was some sort of spark between them, but he was afraid that
might be just wishful thinking, so he was reluctant to make any sort of
real advance to Philip.  Besides, Geoff is pretty shy.  I think he'd find
it hard to make an advance to a guy unless he was damn sure the guy
reciprocated his feelings.

* * *

STEVE:

Jared, Jeremy, and Richie all had to appear separately before Judge
Flowers, the Juvenile Court judge hearing their cases, so I had to be there
three times.  Each time, she asked me to describe what happened to me as
clearly and in as much detail as I could.  Their lawyers were allowed to
ask me questions, but since the boys had all admitted what they had done,
there was nothing particularly adversarial about their questions.  I think
the parents of all three guys were really pained to listen to me describe
what had happened.

Each time before I was excused, the judge asked me if I had anything else
to say.  I didn't for Richie and Jeremy, but at Jared's I said I had
learned some things about Jared and his relationship with the other guys
and that I had gotten to know him a little.  I asked her to be lenient with
him, telling her that I thought he was basically a good kid.  She thanked
me and let me go.

Sergeant Ibrahim, who certainly didn't have to, made a point of calling me
to let me know what had happened.  Both Bauer and Passinger were sent to
Juvenile Hall, I think until their 18th birthdays, maybe for the whole
school year, I'm not sure.

Jared got ten hours a week of community service until he turned eighteen
the next March.  The Judge sentenced him to work as an orderly in the
emergency room of the hospital where I was taken so he could get a look at
the patients who were brought there.  I asked the sergeant if it would be
okay if I called Jared.  He said he'd ask Jared and his parents if it was
okay for us to talk, but said he'd have Jared call me if he wanted to and
his folks approved.

A couple of days later, he did call.

"Uh, Steve.  It's Jared."

"Hey, Jared.  How are you?"

"I'm a lot better than I thought I was going to be, thanks to you."

"To me?  Why?"

"Because you put in a good word for me with the judge.  I couldn't believe
what you said that day in court.  You didn't have to do that, man, and I,
like, I really appreciate it!"

"I only told her what I thought, Jared.  Besides, I'm pretty sure that she
was more lenient with you because you had the balls to go to the cops and
tell them what you had done."

"Yeah, everybody tells me that had a lot to do with it."

"So, you'll not have to miss any school because of all this?"

I heard him take a deep breath.  "Nope.  But there won't be time to go out
for swimming.  After you suggested that, I thought about it a lot and
decided it'd be cool.  But ten hours a week at the hospital plus my school
work is going to keep me plenty busy."

"Well, I suppose that's true.  I'm sorry, though, because I think you'd
have enjoyed being on the team."

"Yeah."  There was a long pause.  "Hey, Steve, ya know, there's something I
forgot to tell you the other day in the park."

"What's that?"

"Your friends really scared the shit out of us, even Richie."  He chuckled.

"What friends, Jared?  I don't know what you mean."

"You don't know what happened in the mall parking lot after the movies one
evening?"

"Nope."

"Well, the three of us had been to see `Legally Blonde.'  When we got back
to Richie's car, there were six dudes, all in black, with stocking masks
like we wore that, uh, other night."

"No shit!"

"Oh, yeah!  And, man, they were way tall, like basketball players."

"So what happened?"

"Well, they surrounded us.  Sort of backed us up together and stood so
close we had to tilt our heads back to look up to them.  Only one of them
said anything.  He told us they were your friends and to lay off you.  That
if we didn't they knew who we were, what our names were, and that if we did
anything else to you, we'd be in deep shit.  Oh, and he said that you were
no way a pedo.  I guess I might as well tell the whole story."

He paused, took a nervous breath, and continued.  "I was so scared I pissed
my pants.  Richie wouldn't let me in his car, so I had to walk home.  Like
I said, you've got some good friends there."

I knew I had one good friend in that group.  The others must have been
Chaz's friends.  I'd have to thank him for that.

"It must have been pretty embarrassing walking home that way."

"Plenty, yeah.  I took back streets as much as I could, so it took a while.
And my sis, Jess, saw me coming up the drive.  That's the night she
confronted me and made me admit what we'd done.  She told me she'd give me
two days to tell the parents or she'd have to tell them."

"But you were thinking about doing that anyway, right?"

"Steve, I felt really bad about what we had done to you.  So, the
combination of those big dudes showing up at the mall and Jess putting the
pressure on at home made me realize that there was only one thing I could
do, no matter how scared I was of Richie and Jeremy and of the cops."

"Well, buddy, you did the right thing.  I'm proud of you.  Now, let me ask
you something else."

"Yeah?"

"Have you come out to your parents?"

"Yeah."

"How'd that go?"

"Better'n I thought it would.  They were surprised, for sure, but they were
cool with it once they had a chance to think it over.  They've both told me
they love me as much as ever, but that it's going to be rough, especially
if I come out at school.  You know, Steve, Jessie was a lot of help.  I
mean, I know she talked with them when I wasn't around, and she's been on
my side, like she always is."

"Have you given any more thought about talking to Father Max?"

"FATHER Max?  I didn't know he was Catholic."

"He isn't.  I don't know much about these things, but apparently
Episcopalians claim to be Protestants but call their ministers "father."

"Oh.  OK.  Well, anyway, I'd really like to talk to somebody, ya know,
somebody older who could help me deal with all this stuff."

I searched around in the drawer in the telephone table until I found what I
wanted.  "Jared, can you copy this down?"

"Hold on a sec."  Pause.  "OK.  Shoot."

I gave him Max Hewitt's home and church numbers.  "Be sure to tell him I
gave you his number."

"OK, thanks."

"Now, Jared, I want you to do something for me."

"Look, man, you can ask me anything.  After my part in what happened to
you, I'd do almost anything to try to make it up to ya."

"OK, Jare, here's the deal.  I want regular progress reports.  Maybe we can
meet at BK or someplace for lunch sometime, assuming you aren't spending
all your weekends at the hospital."

"You got it!  I'm going to be spending a couple of hours several nights a
week so I have some weekend time off.  I'm sure we could meet sometime for
a burger.  I'd like that."

"Cool beans."

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

He sounded a little choked up.  "Dude, you're, well, you're cool.  OK?"

"Thanks, buddy.  You take care and stay in touch.  Got it?"

"Got it!"


Among other things to report about my life that fall is that I was really
getting into my classes.  Now that I knew what I wanted to do with my life,
suddenly I didn't feel like blowing off my course work.  No longer Steve
the smartass, I was getting good grades.

And my social life was unbelievable.  I can't explain it, but Becca (I'm
the only one who calls her that) and I were together as often as our
classes and studying permitted.  We met for lunch most days.  I still don't
understand what she sees in me, but I'm sure as hell not complaining.  We
often do things with Lori and Mark, too.

Becca has never let me bring her back to my apartment.  Not yet.  We've had
some pretty hot sessions, but I'm going to explode if we don't do it soon.
I don't think she's a tease.  I just think she doesn't give herself away
unless she's sure the guy wants more than sex from her.  Does that sound as
if I'm in -- God!  I'm about to say it! -- LOVE with her?  Maybe.

I can't believe how well things are going for me right now, and I've gotta
believe Becca has a lot to do with that.

* * *

TIM:

One evening as I was marking the ever-present freshman essays, the phone
rang. Cedric answered it.  He chatted quietly with the caller, softly so as
not to bother me, I suspect.

Then he came over and dropped into the chair next to me.

I looked at that face and began to get a hardon.  I put down the theme I
was reading and said, "You are SO beautiful, Cedric."

He got up, came over, and knelt beside my chair.  He grabbed my head and
pulled me into one of THOSE kisses.

Some time later, he said, "Now, where was I?"

Breathing heavily, I said, "Maybe you were going to tell me about the phone
call."

"Oh, yeah.  That was Mark."

"How's he?  How's Lori?  Has he heard from Stan?"

"Whoa, lover!  He didn't call to talk about Lori or Stan. He called to make
a suggestion."

Knowing I didn't need to say anything to keep the story coming, I remained
silent.

"He wants us to have an intervention on Chaz."

I suppose I must have been having an obtuse moment.  "Chaz is drinking?  On
drugs?"

Cedric grinned at me.  "No, babe, Chaz is being an asshole to Trey."

"Oh," I said.  "I knew that."

"So Markie thinks we should go over to their place and set the big guy
straight, so to speak."

I grinned back.  "So to speak.  I'm glad you guys decided to do something.
So you and Mark are going to tell Chaz how wrong he has been about what he
did to Trey that night at Stefan's?"

"No, babe."

"Then I'm lost."

"WE'RE going to let Chaz know just how stupid he's being."

"Isn't that what I said?"

"No, Tim, YOU and Mark and I are going to do this."

"Me?  Look, hon, I think it might be better if his two best buds (besides,
Tiger, of course) did this.  Do you think I could add anything?"

He grinned at me.  "Well, Tim, since it involves Chaz, we may need all the
muscle we can get."

I laughed at the idea of my supplying "muscle."

"Seriously, though, Chaz respects you.  You could add a lot of moral weight
to what Markie and I have to say to him."

"And what would that be, what you're going to say to him?"

"That he's being an asshole.  That what he did to Trey was thoughtless,
unfeeling, insensitive.  That his failure to apologize to Trey is
jeopardizing the best thing that's ever happened to him."

"I agree.  But since you put it so beautifully, why do you need me?"

"We're going in circles.  You being there -- sorry `bout that professor,
`possessive in front of a gerund,' I know -- YOUR being there would add
weight, gravitas, to what Mark and I were saying."

I chuckled.  "Well, since you said `gravitas,' how could I refuse to go?"

So it was decided.  Cedric called Mark and made the arrangements.


A few evenings later, Cedric and I went to Mark's apartment, just down the
hall from Chaz and Trey's.  Lori was there.  She told us she wished us
luck, and we were to come back there for dessert afterward.  Or, she added
with a smile, a stiff drink, depending on which we needed.

Have I ever said how sexy Chaz is?  Elsewhere in this narrative others have
described him.  But when he opened the door wearing a white tee and khaki
shorts, barefoot, I wondered if Trey was still in his right mind. The door
made a perfect frame to emphasize Chaz's broad shoulders, tapering to a
narrow waist.  He had long, muscular arms, and long, muscular legs, all
covered with light brown hair.  His hands and feet were in proportion to
his height, but they seemed to me to be big.  Perfectly formed, but big.
His pale blue eyes could be icy at times, but they twinkled when he saw his
friends at the door.  Yeah, I wondered how Trey could stay away from that
big hunk.  But then my brain took over from Junior, and I remembered how
wounded my brother was.

Chaz was, of course, surprised to see us, but he invited us in, asked if we
wanted a beer or some wine.  When we all said no, he asked us to sit down.

"Hey guys, to what do I owe the honor?" he asked, grinning.

There was silence for the moment.  I had told Cedric and Mark that I was
not going to be the spokesman.  It was Mark who answered the question.

"Well, Chaz, we won't beat around the bush, bro.  We're here to tell you we
think you need your ass kicked."

"Whoa, Markie.  That's pretty cold, man.  Whassup?"

Ced joined in at this point: "Chaz, the three of us (and he looked at me
for confirmation) think you are being a real jerk about Trey.  You know we
all love you, big guy, but Trey is really hurting, and you don't seem to be
able to understand that."

Cedric looked at me.  I nodded, still resolved to let the original members
of the group do the talking.

"Yeah," Mark said.  "We think this whole thing has gone on long enough.
You and Trey belong together.  We all know that.  We also know that Trey
stays away from here all day because you won't apologize for what you did."

Chaz bristled.  "Hold on just a godammed minute!  This is between Trey and
me.  I don't appreciate you guys butting in!"

Quietly but firmly, Mark said, "Calm down, Chaz.  This is all in the
brotherhood.  Answer the question, please."

He thought about that for a minute but was obviously still unhappy.  "Yeah,
he's been making himself pretty scarce lately."

"And why is that?" Cedric asked.

"You know why, dammit!  Because he's pissed at me."

"And he's pissed at you because . . . ?" Mark asked.

"Well, he's having a fuckin' temper tantrum over the joke I played on him
at Stefan's.  I got him back for the meatloaf thing, and for some reason,
he can't take the joke.  That's not like Tiger at all.  But what do you
want me to do?"

"Chaz," Mark asked, future lawyer that he is, "do you love Trey?"

"Look, Mark, I'm not used to talking about things like this with other
people, but since you insist on prying, yes, I do."

"Then," Cedric added, "you have to understand that what you did to him at
Stefan's was not funny, Chaz, but very painful."

I was so proud of them.  Ced and Mark worked like a polished team.  I felt
almost sorry for Chaz.  He didn't stand a chance.

"That's what he said.  What IS it with all you guys?  What's the big deal?
It was all just a joke."

"Do you think he thinks of it as a joke?" Mark asked.

"Well, fuck, he knows that's all I meant by it."

"Chaz," Cedric asked, "what has he said to you about that?"

Chaz sighed.  As if reciting a lesson, he responded, "You don't humiliate
someone you love because love and humiliation are incompatible."

"Do you understand what he means by that?" Mark asked.

"Yeah, I understand in my head, but I just don't see the problem.  Trey
knows how I feel about him.  Why doesn't he see it was all in fun?"  Chaz
got up and began to pace around the room, smacking one fist into the palm
of the other hand.

"Chaz, maybe you should try walking out of the most upscale restaurant in
town with a big, shiny, wet cum stain on your pants," I said.  Well, so
much for staying out of it.

Chaz stopped pacing and looked at me very seriously.  "Yeah, Tim.  Tiger
told me part of what bothered him about the evening was that it showed him
how we must have made you feel that night in your office.  He was feeling
real guilty."

"Yes.  Trey felt guilty.  And he came to me and apologized profusely."

Chaz stood still, considering what I'd said.

I continued, "Suppose you were suddenly able to go back several months back
to that first evening when you guys paid me a visit in my office because of
what you thought I'd done to Ced.  Knowing and feeling everything that's
happened since, would you still be one of the players in that scene?"

Chaz flopped back down in the chair where he'd been sitting and looked at
me for the longest time.  I could see the ideas moving and colliding wildly
in his eyes like sliding living room furniture during an earthquake.  "No."

"You remember that you took some glee in my being the victim, in my being
embarrassed.  Why did you enjoy that so much?"

Again, ideas and feelings showing in his eyes.  "I liked the power."

"Power?"

Chaz's head shook a little impatiently, as though to express "you really
aren't going to make me lay all this out, are you?"  I was.  His soul
needed it.  He and Trey needed it.

"OK, it was like I had you in my clutches.  I had total power over you.
Whatever happened to you is what I wanted to happen to you."

"You knew I wasn't enjoying it."

"But that was part of the fun!" he burst out impatiently.  Then he stopped.
The gears started whirring.

"How different is that Chaz from the one who took Trey to Stefan's?"  All
eyes were turned on Chaz. His forehead wrinkled as a result of some strong
surge of emotions.  "Wasn't there a power trip going on there with Trey
that evening?"  We had our answer as Chaz's shoulders sagged and his head
dropped in acknowledgement.

I nodded to Mark to pick up at that point.  "So, Chaz, if what you did to
Trey that evening brought back powerful memories and feelings of guilt, and
if it also made him feel you were demeaning him, that it is something that
you just wouldn't do to someone you love, how do you feel about that?"

"Aw, fuck!  You guys!  What am I supposed to say?"

My beautiful Cedric went over to Chaz, sat next to him, and put his hand on
Chaz's knee.  "It doesn't matter much, bro, what you say to us.  The
question is, what are you going to say to the man you love?"

It was Mark who delivered the coup de grace.  "And before you answer that,
Chaz, think of this.  Trey has been spending a lot of time lately with Kent
Statten.  They've been working out together, having lunch together, having
beers after their workouts together.  I know Trey loves you.  But if you
stubbornly keep on refusing to make things right with him, big guy, you
could lose him."

"Shit!  You guys just won't let up, will you?"

"Chaz," Mark said, "you and Trey -- you are so good together.  And the
rest of us love you both.  Don't throw away what the two of you have, don't
throw away the respect of your brothers by being a pig-headed son of a
bitch!"

Chaz looked gobsmacked, as the Brits say.

"Look, I, uh, OK guys.  Ya really think . . . "

Cedric squeezed Chaz's knee again and said, "Yeah, Chaz, babe, we really
think."

When a six-foot five guy shudders, everyone in the room feels it.  At least
you do if you're almost a foot shorter.  Anyway, Chaz shuddered, took a
deep breath, and said, looking very serious, "I guess I've been some kind
of fool.  I thought Trey would get over this.  I didn't realize how much I
must have hurt him.  He's GOT to know how much I love him.  Doesn't he?  Do
I have to keep on saying it?"

"Yes, Chaz," I said, "over and over."

Chaz looked at me and shrugged.  Then he smiled wanly.  "OK, I guess Tiger
needs that apology."

Cedric chuckled.  "Chaz, babe, I think what you need to do right now is
grovel."

"Sorry, Cedric," I said, "I disagree.  I don't think Trey would expect
groveling.  Not to sound too much like Max, I think what is needed here is
sincere confession and then contrition.  You need to admit to Trey that you
were wrong, insensitive to his feelings not just that evening but ever
since.  Then you need to tell him honestly that you are sorry.  He won't
make you grovel.  He won't expect that."

 "Ya think?" Chaz asked.

"Yeah, Chaz.  Will you do that?"

He sighed.  "Who am I to argue with you three?  I don't want to lose my
guy."

Mark went over and hugged Chaz.  Chaz stood up, towering over even Mark and
Ced, not to mention me.

"Thanks, you guys.  Thanks for showing me what a jerk I've been.  I'd
better go find Trey and apologize right away."

"Atta boy, Chaz," Mark said.

"Right," Cedric agreed, beaming at Chaz.

I went over and hugged the man-tower.  It must have looked funny, but it
felt good.

"I know you'll do the right thing, Chaz," I said.

"Thanks, Tim," he said, giving me a tight squeeze.  "I'll bet Trey is with
Kent at that bar they've taken to going to, Noplace.  I'll go right now and
see if I can find him."

The three of us hugged Chaz again and wished him well.  He thanked us, and
we went down the hall to Mark and Lori's for that drink.  On the way, Mark
put his arm around my shoulders and said, "Cedric, the Law lost a good one
when this guy decided to become an English prof."

I grinned up at Mark and said, "The Law is getting a couple of gems with
you and Cedric, Mark!"

* * *

TREY:

Kent and I were at Noplace.  He had asked me to meet him there at 9:15
after I finished at the library, and that sounded good to me.  It put off
the time I had to go home.  Kent was his usual self, good company and good
to look at.  We had gotten a pitcher of lite and two mugs and were talking
about this and that, people watching.  You know how you do at a pub where
you're comfortable.

As we were talking, Max Hewitt came in with David Taylor.  David was
wearing a business suit with his hair in a ponytail.  Max was wearing a
light blue sport shirt and jeans.  They saw Kent and me and came over to
our booth.  I couldn't help noticing as they walked towards us that, though
they were not holding hands, they were definitely "together."  Something
about their body language, the way they were walking close together, said
they were more than just acquaintances.  I had suspected something was
going to happen between those two, but hadn't heard anything to confirm my
suspicion.

I introduced them to Kent and invited them to join us.  They thanked me but
said that David had just gotten in from Chicago and they hadn't eaten, so
they wanted to get something to eat.  While not exactly ignoring Kent, I
couldn't help watching as they found a booth.  David took off his coat and
tie, rolled up his sleeves, and took the band off his hair, so that it fell
around his shoulders -- the way we were used to seeing it.  He was SO
sexy!  I could see why Max just sort of sat there and looked at David as if
he were mesmerized.

I went back to talking with Kent.  A little while later, after Max and
David had finished their dinner, they were in the back of the room playing
pool.  Sometimes, though, they'd just stop what they were doing and look at
each other across the table.  Other times, they'd be laughing together,
sharing a joke, it appeared.  I was glad to see Max relaxed and having fun.
He needed to find a guy who would make him happy.  I just hoped that David
had more to offer than raw sex.

When David and Max finished their game of pool, they stopped by our booth
again and chatted with us for a few minutes.  Then David said he really
wanted to get out of that suit into something more comfortable.  He looked
at Max and smirked.  When Max blushed, I knew those two were up to
something and secretly wished Max well.

* * *

MAX:

Side by side, David and I left Noplace, to go, well, someplace, and the
thought of where we were going settled suddenly and rather heavily on my
shoulders.  It had been there all evening, that certainty, from the moment
David had rolled up his sleeves and let down his hair, changing within
seconds from businessman into the most sensual being I'd ever perceived.

He didn't do it for effect, but with a completely artless gesture that must
have become natural for him long ago.  The inherent sexuality of it hit me
like a blow to my stomach, and I got instantly, achingly hard.  I gasped
involuntarily, and David, who until then had been oblivious to the havoc
he'd wrought on me, looked up from his beer and into my eyes.  For a moment
he searched my face; then he smiled softly and, looking just a little bit
smug, whispered, "Like that, is it?"

`Yeah,' I wanted to say, but only a croak came out.  I cleared my throat
and tried again.

"Yeah."

"Tonight, then?" he asked.

"Oh, yes."

Smiling at me reassuringly, he put his hand on mine.

"I'm really looking forward to this, Max.  More than I can say, you know.
I'm as eager as a four year old when Santa opens his bag."

We both chuckled at that, and I was glad that he seemed to be just as
affected as I was by all this.

"Well, David, there will be Father Max instead of Father Christmas tonight,
but I'm sure you'll get to unwrap some goodies all the same," had been my
flippant answer.

As we made our way to the exit, David had even topped this with the remark
he'd made to Trey and Kent.  "Slip into something more comfortable."  My
ass!  Yeah, my ass, probably.

Now, as we were approaching David's car, I didn't feel that flip any more.
The tension between us was almost tangible, and the intensity of my
feelings and desires scared me.  We both stayed silent till we had climbed
into the Vette and buckled up.

"OK, baby," David drawled, giving me that sultry look of his, "your bed or
mine?"

Despite all my apprehension, I had to snicker.

"Isn't your bed that rickety thing you use to sit on, Taylor?"

"Nope.  That's history.  You know I've been furniture shopping, right?  I
bought most of the stuff at Ikea.  The bed, now, well, it`s a special
thing.  It was all delivered yesterday.  You'll see."

"Special order?  Now I'm curious.  What kind of bed is it?"

"Wait and see," he grinned, shifting gears.

I noticed his driving was more restrained today.  I guess he felt I was
nervous enough as it was.  And damn it, I was nervous.  I hadn't done this
in so long.  Not since Andrew.  I couldn't help thinking about him now.
Rationally I knew I wasn't cheating on him here.  I knew it, and still I
felt like I was, somehow.

I cast a look at David.  He was so different from Andrew.  Especially that
hair.  Where Andrew's had been black and straight, David's was red and
wavy, vibrant and sparkling in the lights.  Alive.  And Andrew was dead.

"Are you having second thoughts?" David asked in this moment.

Oh, God.  "No.  I, well, not really.  I was just . . . ."  I realized I
didn't want to say it.

"Thinking of Andrew?" David asked.

I nodded, unhappily.  At the same time I still had that insistent hard-on
from earlier.  It was disturbing, to say the least.

"Max, we don't have to do this.  Of course I want to, very much.  I've been
hot for you from the first moment I laid eyes on you.  Since then I've not
only lusted for your bod, man, I also have become intrigued with you as a
person.  I don't want to spook you.  We`ll only do what we`re both
comfortable with, okay?  But I really want to try.  How about it?"

Truthfully I said, "I want you very much, too, David.  I'm just not sure if
I can do it, you know?"

We were in the middle of three lanes when I said that, waiting for the red
light to turn green.  At that moment it did.  On our right and left cars
started moving.  In our lane, drivers started honking because our car
didn't budge.  Instead, David put the car in neutral and turned to me.  He
put one hand on my face, stroking my cheekbone with his thumb.

"You don't need to do anything tonight, Max," he said, his voice so very
gentle, "just let me show you how I feel for you.  Just let me make you
feel good."

And he kissed me, right there in the middle of the road, oblivious to what
went on around us.  He tasted like beer, of course, but also like ginger.
So hot!  And yet gentle.  His tongue was teasing mine, like he wanted to
lure it out to play.  And it worked.  I got lost in that kiss, and traffic
be damned.  When we tore apart, I was breathless.

"God, David," I managed to pant, "let's go!"

There was a certain urgency in my voice, I guess, because "I hear and
obey," David said, like a veritable genie in a bottle.  Which reminded me
of those infamous harem pants, and of Chaz calling David a Turkish delight.
Oh, wow!  I took a few deep breaths to calm down a bit.

"So, how many wishes do I have left?" I asked while David put the car in
gear and got rolling again.

"Two, of course.  That's the classic thingie.  So be wise in your choices!"

I looked at him when he said that and saw that, though his voice was calm,
his face seemed to be just a little bit flushed.  I looked farther down,
and there was a telltale bulge in his dress slacks.

"Hurry," I said.  "And that's no wish, that's a command!"

He chuckled.

Ten minutes later we drove into the parking garage of David's apartment
building.  At the time I couldn't have told you what part of town it was
in.  Ever since that kiss my eyes had been riveted on David.  On his
strong, capable hands on the steering wheel or shifting gears, on his
powerful legs, his expressive face.  Especially his face, because there was
a light in his eyes I hadn't seen before, and his lips were moist and lush
from our kiss.  If only one kiss could make him appear so sensual and
debauched, I wondered how he would look after a whole night of making love.
Well, hopefully I would know tomorrow.

When we got to David's building, the elevator had a sign saying "Under
Repair," so we wound up jogging the five flights of stairs to David's
apartment.  I was pleased to notice he was way more out of breath than I
was.  All that running with Tim had paid off, I guess.

"Hey, you gotta work on your stamina," I needled him.

"You won't say that afterward," he said, giving me that look again.

Oh, my!

He opened the door and waved me in.  The place was a jumble of cardboard
boxes, most of them with four big letters that formed the name of the
Swedish furniture company.

"They're the bookcases, the dining table and chairs, the end tables for the
living room, and a computer hutch," he said, "all awaiting assembly.  Just
drop your jacket on that box.  Oh, would you like something to drink while
I take a shower?  Or do you want to join me perhaps?"

As tempting as that offer was, I said, "No, thanks.  I had a shower before
I went to Noplace.  But a glass of water would be nice."

"OK.  Follow me."  David led me across the nicely-sized living room that
was separated from the adjacent kitchen by a chrome and birch wood eating
bar.  Very stylish, and completely out of place with the clutter that
filled the rest of the room.  David ran water into a glass and gave it to
me.

"I won't be long," he said, and I was left alone.  Still nervous, I
surveyed the room.  One corner seemed to be inhabitable.  It featured a
classical Chesterfield chair, a giant potted palm tree, and a hi-fi system
with hundreds of cd's in the rack below it.  Randomly I pulled a cd out.
"Cliff Barnes and the Fear of Winning"?  These groups sure have great
names.  I turned the thing round to look at the song titles.  When I read
"No one's got an asshole like a cowboy," I couldn't help giggling.

"Having fun?"  Right on cue, David appeared in the doorway, wrapped in a
burgundy towel, his hair still moist and drops of water on his
freckle-dusted shoulders.  My mouth was suddenly dry.  Wordlessly I held
the cd up.  He snickered, too.  Then he came closer.  "Not the most
appropriate music for now," he said.

It seemed his towel was slipping.  My eyes were glued to the silver circle
of his nipple ring that was peeking out.  He took the cd out of my
paralyzed hands and made another step toward me.  And, like a blushing
maiden in a very bad movie, I retreated a step.  With a purposeful gleam in
his eyes he followed me, like a tiger stalking its prey.  Suddenly, I had
my back against the window.  Instinctively, I cast a glance over my
shoulder and looked down on the traffic, five stories below.  The feeling
that I was about to jump from a cliff intensified.

His smile was confident when he asked me if we should take this somewhere
else.  I nodded, and he led me through the hallway again and opened another
door.  And there it was: the bed.  A giant Japanese futon, on tatamis,
dominating the spacious room.  Next to it a bamboo night stand.  Sea grass
wallpaper, a print with a large Japanese symbol and three rice paper
balloons hanging in one corner completed the picture.  It was exotic.
Beautiful.  Inviting.  I told him so.  I didn't tell him that I had a
fleeting awareness of Andrew's Chinese heritage.  His next comment brought
me back to the present.

"There's one catch, Max."

"What is it?"

"No clothes allowed in there."  His smile when he said that was so
exaggeratedly lecherous, and at the same time so like that of a little kid,
I just had to laugh, and from then on it all was easy.  I ripped his towel
away first, then we stripped my excited body, and giggling like kids we
raced each other to the futon.

"Ouch!  Wow, this thing is hard!"

"Horse hair and coco fiber.  I like it hard."  He winked at me.

"Well, that's good then, `cause I am very hard for you just now!"

"God, Max, you're a delight!  I love that compact, sturdy body of yours!
These pects, and these delicious aureoles!  Mmmh . . . ."

"Hey!  Watch those teeth!  No, don't stop!  Do it some more!"

David drove me absolutely wild, just by playing with my nips.  I was lying
on my back under him and bucked and I writhed so much that he finally lay
on me with all his weight.  In that position our hard cocks poked into our
bellies and into each other, and I knew that if he kept on with this I
would come soon.  And, God help me, I wanted to come with his cock buried
deep inside me.

"David, stop!" I panted.

"What do you want, baby?" he asked, giving my throat a long wet lick.

"Whoa!  I . . . .."  He licked me again.  "Oh David, wow!  This is
fantastic, but . . . . "  Another lick, followed by another little bite on
my nip.  I felt my balls starting to pull up.

"David," I moaned, "I want your cock in me!  Now!"


DAVID:

What a picture this was, Max writhing under me in total abandon, pleading
for my cock in his ass!  His skin was flushed, and there was a light sheen
of sweat all over him.  The little hunk really wanted me.  And I would be
very happy to oblige him.

I got condoms and lube from my night stand and scooted down between his
legs.  I figured prepping him would take a while, so I made myself
comfortable there.  His love bud was all rosy and wrinkled, his balls drawn
up tight to his body.  Tentatively, I gave him a short lick right across
his sphincter.

He cried out, his voice hoarse.  Smiling to myself I spread his legs some
more, sealed my lips to his opening and gave him my best.  I sucked and
licked and nipped, and when he was all wet and gleaming with my spit, I
lubed my fingers up and slowly pushed one digit into his quivering muscle.
It slipped in easily.  So did the second, and the third.

I looked up in Max's face questioningly, and he smiled bashfully back at
me.

"Been practicing?" I asked.

"Not exactly," he panted, while I finger-fucked his hot hole.  "I just
enjoy things up my butt, you know?  I've got some toys . . . . "  His voice
broke when I pulled my fingers out.

"You ain't gonna need those toys any more," I promised.  I had waited so
long for this man, had gone without for so long, and he lay there so ready
for me, I had to have him that very instant.  I put the condom on, slicked
myself up, and positioned my eager tool at his eager pucker.  And I pushed.

Now I'm not overly long, but rather thick.  Still, Max took my girth more
easily than some other guys I'd had.  Yeah, it was a snug fit, but I could
slide in all in one go.  It felt like coming home.  We both sighed in
contented ecstasy.

"God, I missed this, David!" he whispered.  "Someone holding me, someone
inside me, moving inside me, loving me."

There was the shimmer of tears in his warm brown eyes, and need, and trust,
and I swore to myself that I'd never intentionally hurt this sexy but very
vulnerable man.  But right now, I had to move!

Slowly I pulled almost completely out, and slowly, gently, back in.

"Yes," Max hissed, "that's it.  Yeah.  So good.  Do it faster, David!"

Faster, huh?  I figured I could do faster.  I sped up a bit, still holding
back, not wanting to hurt him.  Max pushed back at me, and then we
increased the speed and the power of our motions till we moved together
like the proverbial well-oiled machine, each impact causing a wet slapping
sound.  It was primal and hot and good.  And it was fun.  At one point I
noticed that we both were grinning at each other like madmen.  It didn't
take long and I was so close.  I didn't know about Max, so I said, "I'm
almost there now."

"OK," he panted and started jacking his hard, drooling cock with both
hands.  Only seconds later he screamed out and erupted cum all over
himself.  His ass muscles contracted powerfully around me.  I increased the
force of my thrusts.  I was already very close when he reached up and, with
a devilish gleam in his eyes, pulled at my nipple ring.  That did it.
Waves and waves of ecstasy coursed through my body as I filled the rubber
with my seed.  When I was done, I collapsed on Max, feeling boneless and
exhausted.

Our panting echoed in the room.  Carefully holding the rubber in place, I
pulled out and moved to lie beside Max.  He turned toward me, his face open
and relaxed.

"Your bed is one fine place to be, David Taylor," he whispered.

"Your ass is one fine place to be, Max Hewitt," I retorted.  He gave me a
jab to the ribs, but it was a half-hearted one.

"Does that ring always bring you off so quickly?" Max asked.

I shrugged my shoulders.  "Damned if I know.  I guess we'll have to do a
longer test run, what do you think?"

"Definitely," he said, and, as we walked together into the bathroom to
clean up, I knew this hot guy had been worth the long, frustrating wait.

* * *

TREY:

After Kent and I had pretty well finished the pitcher, I had to go to the
john.  When I got back, Chaz was sitting where I had been sitting.  He was
facing Kent, facing away from me.  Chaz was talking, and Kent didn't look
happy with what he was saying.  I slid into the booth next to Chaz.

He put his arm around my shoulders and grinned at me.  "So, Statten, if you
think you can cut in on my guy and me, you're dead wrong."

I pointedly took Chaz's arm off my shoulder.

Kent replied, "Greeley, you're such a jerk!  I saw what you did to Trey at
Stefan's, and I think that sucks, man.  You say he's `your guy,' but you
treated him like shit that night.  And I happen to know that you hurt him."

"Who do you think you are, Statten?  Trey's protector?  His confessor?  You
should just butt out."

"Chaz, you're out of line.  Kent is my friend.  He's been here for me while
you and I have had this problem.  Why don't you just apologize to him and
go home?  I'll see you back there later."

"No, Tiger, I'm not going anywhere.  I came here to find you, `cause we
need to talk.  I just wanted to tell Kent here how things are before we
go."

I was encouraged, at least, that Chaz had finally decided we had something
to discuss.

I looked at Kent and said, "Kent, I apologize for Chaz.  He's being himself
again, I'm afraid."  Then to Chaz I said, "OK, you want to talk?  Let's go
home.  This is obviously not the place."

"Trey, babe, why don't you go ahead?  I'll be along after I've had a few
words with Kent."

"I'm not going to leave and let you stay here and bitch at Kent.  He's my
friend, he hasn't done anything to deserve your being pissy with him.  So
come on, let's go."

"Sorry, Tiger, not until I've had my say."

Kent looked at me, shrugged, and said, "Trey, maybe Chaz and I do need to
talk.  Why don't you go on?  I promise not to keep him long."

"Are you sure?  He can be pretty obnoxious when he's in a mood like this."

Chaz gave me a hurt look, but he didn't say anything.

"Yeah, Trey, I'm sure.  Chaz and I will get a few things cleared up, and
then he'll be home to apologize to you."

Against my better judgment, I left.

Back at the apartment, it seemed a long time elapsed and Chaz still hadn't
come home.  Had he stayed at Noplace and gotten drunk?  What could he and
Kent be talking about that took so long?

Finally, about midnight, the phone rang.  It was Chaz.  He and Kent were at
the police station and needed me to come and get them.

[Look for chapters of "Out of the Night" each of the next two weeks.
Chapter 33 of "Dr. Tim" will be posted in about three weeks.]