Tim and the Guys


Chapter 8

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

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.  

Thanks to Tom for doing the editing chores, and to my Nifty Six colleagues.


One afternoon Trey popped into my office at the church.  We hugged, I got us Cokes, and we sat.

"I'm glad to see you, Trey.  Are you and Chaz okay?"

"Working our butts off, Max, but we're okay, thanks."

"So you're here about Tim?"

"What, you think I wouldn't come just to see how you're doing?"

"But that's not really why you're here, is it, Trey?"

He grinned.  "You're getting as good at this as I am."

"Not really, just a deduction.  If you and Chaz are doing okay, the thing most likely to bring you here would be something having to do with Tim.  So what's up?"

He took a swallow of Coke.  "We need your help.  Think you could drop in on Tim tomorrow afternoon, say about 4:30?"

"Sure.  I'll be on campus tomorrow afternoon, and I won't need to come back here afterwards.  Now, are you going to tell me what this is about?"

"Ced is going to see Tim tomorrow afternoon."

"Does that mean he's remembered something?"

"No, unfortunately, it doesn't.  Chaz and I have told him how close he and Tim were, but  he can't remember any of it."

"Yet he's coming to see Tim?"

"Yeah.  Typical Ced.  He says he always thought Tim was a great prof and a sexy guy, but that's all.  No recollection of their life together, and no special feelings for Tim."

"And . . . ?"

"He wants to tell Tim that he feels bad, that he's sorry Tim is unhappy.  But he also thinks it's best for Tim to know the truth."

I thought about it while I sipped my Coke.  "You know, I think that's probably wise.  Leave it to Ced, though, to worry about how Tim's feeling in the midst of all his own problems."

Trey's eyes were very moist as he said, "Uh huh."

"So, how can I help?"

"Well, Ced's coming over to our place to have dinner with Chaz and me after he sees Tim.  He wants us to tell him more about the year he can't remember.  He's checked with his doctor, and she says that can't hurt at this point."

"Okay, I think I see where you're going.  Tim is likely to be really down after that visit from Cedric, and you want me to be there."

"Could you, Max?  It would be great if you would."

"Of course I'll do it.  I'd hate for him to be alone at a time like that.  And I appreciate your telling me, Trey, so I can plan to be there with him."

He smiled.  "You're the one he needs."

`Oh, God, if only that were true,' I said to myself.

"Do you think you should call Tim and tell him you're going to drop by after Ced leaves?"

"If I did, he'd probably tell me that wasn't necessary and that I shouldn't bother.  I think I'll just drop in and whisk him off to supper somewhere."

"Yeah, that does sound like a better plan.  So, I'll call you as soon as Ced gets to our place.  You can be at Tim's before he's been alone ten minutes, probably."

"Right, let's do it that way."

Soon after that, Trey excused himself.  I asked him to hug Ced for me.  Saying he would, he gave me a light kiss on the lips and left.

About 4:20 the next afternoon Chaz called to say that Ced had arrived at their place.  I thanked him and walked the short distance to Tim's.

Tim was even paler than usual and obviously shaken.  I noticed that he had shaved off the beard after all, but didn't mention it.  If he was surprised to see me, he didn't let on.  He just stepped aside so I could come in.

Afraid of a repeat of my terrible slip the other day, I didn't offer to kiss or even hug him.  

"Don't tell me.  Trey sent you."


He gave me a faint smile.  "I'm grateful to you both, Max.  And, frankly, I'm happy not to be alone right now.  You know Ced was here, of course."

"Yes, Tim, the brotherhood looks after its own."

"Let me get us something to drink.  I've got red and white open, but there's something stronger if you like."

"White's fine, thanks.  But you go ahead and have the stronger stuff if you want."

I followed him into the kitchen, where he poured us each a glass of chardonnay.  "I'm sorry Max, I don't have anything around to snack on."

"Don't worry about it.  We're going to dinner after a while."

"Oh, I don't think I . . . "

I interrupted him.  "It's not negotiable, Tim.  I'm not going to let you sit around here and brood all evening.  Now, suppose you tell me how it went."

We sat in the living room.  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped and sticking out toward me.  "It wasn't easy, Max.  I've been expecting this for weeks, and I thought I had prepared myself for it, but – "  His voice trailed off.  I waited.

"Ced was very nervous.  I've never seen him so ill at ease.  And you know why?"

"Because he knew he was going to give you pain?"

"Exactly."  Tim's eyes filled with tears.  "That's Cedric, that's the way he is.  He was worried about my feelings."

"Yes, I'm not at all surprised."

He took a sip of his wine.  "As nervous as he was, though, he said what he had come to say.  He says he's been told that he and I were lovers.  He understands that his memory loss must be causing me pain.  But he doesn't want me to be misled.  He says he remembers me as a professor he admired.  But that's all.  And he apologized before he told me he just couldn't pretend to feelings he didn't have."

"Well, Tim, we have to give him credit for that, don't we?  His honesty?  Especially since he's sensitive to what that pronouncement would do to you."

"Max, he looked so sad.  I just wanted to go hug him and kiss him and tell him it was okay, but, of course, I couldn't do that."

"So then what happened?"

"I asked him if there had been any progress at all in regaining his memory, and he said there had not been.  But, he added, his doctor said not to give up hope.  She thought perhaps seeing me, seeing this house, being with Chaz and Trey would help trigger something.  I gather he's over at their place now and they're having dinner together.  He said he had a lot of questions he wanted to ask them."

"I think we should latch on to the fact that his doctor said there was still hope.  I know there's a terrible hole in your life and in your heart right now, Tim.  But we have to believe Cedric will regain his memory.  And, when he does, he'll be right back on your doorstep."

Tim sighed.  "Well, I'm not holding my breath."  He leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head.  Looking at the ceiling, he continued, "You know, Max, I'd been dreading having Cedric at Ann Arbor.  I was sure, once he got into law school and found out how demanding that can be, that he'd not get back here very often. I didn't look forward to his being gone, but I knew that was the way things had to be.  I was resigned to our being apart.  Having him alive and healthy but out of my life, however, is really hard to take.  Does that sound petty and selfish?"

"No.  I understand.  You're happy that he's well, but seeing him and knowing that he just doesn't remember what you two had together must be terrible for you.  I think I can understand that."  Indeed I could!

"God, Max, he was so sweet.  He came to tell me what he believed he had to, that he has no special feelings for me.  But he was miserable because he could imagine what pain that would cause me."

"That's the man you love, Timmy.  He's a very special guy, certainly."

Another sigh.  "Yeah."  He took another swallow of his wine.  "You know what else happened today, Max?"


"I reminded him that there was a lot of his stuff here, books, clothing, toilet articles, cd's, even computer discs.  He seemed startled and then said he hadn't thought of that but supposed there would be.  And you know what he did next?"

"He apologized?"

"Exactly.  Said he was sorry his stuff was cluttering up my house."  Tears were streaming down Tim's cheeks at that point.  "Can you imagine, Max?  He apologized to me.  He thought I wanted him to get it all out of here today."

"So what did you do?"

"I told him that I mentioned it because I thought there were things he might need, but that he could leave the rest here indefinitely if he wanted."

My gut was in a knot imagining what a tense time that must have been for both Cedric and Tim.  "So what happened?"

"He asked if he could see the stuff.  I was glad to show him, hoping against hope that something, anything, might trigger his memory."

"I assume that didn't happen."

"No.  He commented that he didn't recognize some of the clothes and other stuff.  He said he didn't have any boxes for packing the books, cd's and so forth and asked if he could come back another time and get them.  What was I going to say?  So I told him, whatever he wanted to do was okay with me.  He took the clothes on hangers, though.  And said he'd call me soon about picking up the rest of it.  And then, dammit, he apologized again if his stuff being here `inconvenienced' me."  

Tim was practically sobbing by the time he finished that narrative.

I didn't care what had happened before, I took him in my arms and held him tight.  Then I ran my hand through his hair.  He didn't seem to mind, and we stayed that way for a while.  My heart ached for both him and Ced.  But I knew the best thing was to get Tim's mind off of that difficult scene.  

"Now, get your ass in gear.  We're going to eat.  What are you in the mood for?"

"Max, as I said, . . ."

"Forget that, Mead.  We're going to get something to eat.  No point in sitting around here moping.  You've done enough of that.  You can't quit living because Cedric doesn't remember you at the moment."

"I won't be very good company, you know."

I grinned at him.  "Let me be the judge of that."

He took a deep breath and said, "Okay, if you insist.  I think I'd like to get out of here for a while."  After suggesting Berio's, a family-style Italian place between here and Ravenna, he asked me to drive.  I found out why later.

When we got there, he insisted this was his treat, and he ordered us a bottle of pretty expensive chianti.  He had spaghetti with bolognaise sauce.  I had linguini with clam sauce.  We both had salads and crusty Italian bread.  

I've never seen Tim pack away food the way he did that evening.  He has never had to worry about his weight, and he surely wasn't on that occasion.  I don't know whether he was drowning his sorrows in food and wine or whether he hadn't been eating well at home by himself, but he seemed ravenous.

I drank one glass of wine.  Tim ordered a second helping of spaghetti and finished the bottle.

I asked at one point why he had shaved off his beard.  

"I wanted to look the way Cedric would remember me.  I keep thinking that something, anything, might jog his memory, might trigger its return."  He looked at me and said, "May as well let it grow now, right?"

"If that's what you want to do, Tim."  

By the time we got home, Tim was feeling pretty mellow.  He brought out the cognac and insisted I have one with him.  I was within walking distance of my place, so I agreed.  

Tim asked about my father.  I told him there was news about dad, but that I'd tell him about it later.

He asked if I'd seen Rick, and I said I hadn't seen Rick more than a couple of times since he moved to town.  He said we'd (not he'd, but we'd) have to give Rick a call and plan to do something with him.  I agreed that would be pleasant.  And, though I didn't say so, I thought that was promising:  it looked as if Tim was thinking about getting on with things while he waited for further developments in Cedric's case.

After his second cognac, though, Tim was finding it difficult to sustain the conversation and his speech was a little slurred.

"Okay, Mead.  You are officially cut off.  I'm going to put you to bed now."

"Farty poop!"  He giggled.  "No, that's party foop!"

Laughing, I held my hands out to him and pulled him upright.  I helped him upstairs and to his bedroom.  

"Maxie, jus' let me fall on the bed.  Maybe then the room will quit spinning."

Instead I had him sit on the edge of the bed while I took off his shirt and undershirt, shoes and socks.  Then I had him stand up and put his hands on my shoulders to brace himself while I took off his pants.  I led him to the bathroom and helped him sit on the toilet.  I wasn't about to hold his cock while he relieved himself.  I gave him a few minutes of privacy.  Then, when I heard the toilet flush, I went back in.  He was standing, pulling up his boxers.  I got a quick glimpse of his flaccid cock nestled in his red pubes.

Even that brief look was enough to cause my own dick to stiffen as I led him to the bed.  I pulled back the covers, steadied him as he lay down, and then covered him up.  I said, "Goodnight, Tim.  I'll call you tomorrow."

"Not too early, babe, 'kay?  An' thanks, Maxie.  Love you."

"I love you, too, Tim."

It was, of course, dark as I walked home.  When I passed their place, Chaz and Trey were sitting on the stoop.  Each had a can of beer.

"Hey, padre, we thought maybe you were gonna spend the night," Chaz said.

Then he said "ouch!" as if Trey had nudged him sharply in the ribs.

"I just put our friend to bed.  He's had a hard day and a bit too much wine and cognac."

"Want to come in for a drink and to compare notes?"

"I'll pass on the drink, thanks, but I'm curious about how your dinner with Ced went."

We went inside to talk so we wouldn't disturb the neighbors.

I gave them a rundown on my evening with Tim and then asked how Ced was.

"He said it was really awkward for him.  He told us Tim was pretty reserved.  They shook hands when Ced arrived and again when he left.  He said he was used to seeing Tim in the classroom or occasionally in his office, so he'd never seen Tim so casual before.  And he said Tim looked pale, as if he'd been sick.  Then he asked us, `Did I do that to him?'"

Chaz picked up the story.  "Tiger insisted it wasn't Ced's fault that Tim was suffering, it was the fault of the accident, the memory loss.  If you ask me, it's the fault of the bastard who ran Ced down."

"No change in that situation, I suppose?"

"'Fraid not," Chaz said.

"Anyway," Trey continued, "Ced told us he really felt sorry for Tim and couldn't help feeling responsible.  On the other hand, he said it almost weirded him out to think when he got his memory back there'd be this guy who was his lover for a year expecting him to pick up where they left off."

I hadn't thought of that and said so.

"Me neither," Trey replied.  "Of course, if he ever gets his memory back, he'll probably want to get back with Tim."

"Maybe," Chaz said.  "But, you know, if it takes a while, Tim may have moved on."

"This is just so tough for everybody," Trey said, giving me a sympathetic look.

*          *          *


My first impression of Paul was that he was a nice guy.  Then when he fucked me in the barn, I was turned off by his calling me a bitch.  He was pretty rough, too, though I have to admit I loved it.

After that day he was just as easy going and funny as ever.  He laughed and joked a lot, and all the other guys seemed to like him.  But I saw more of him than any of the others because we usually worked the same shift.  It was like nothing had happened.  I wasn't sure where I stood with him, but I knew one thing for sure.  I wanted his cock up my ass again.  On the other hand, I didn't want him to think he could just do anything he wanted with me.  I didn't see myself as anybody's boy.  Paul had a great ass, and I jacked off sometimes to the image of having my dick up his hole.  I admitted to myself, though, that I really preferred being a bottom.  But did that have to mean I was, like, inferior?

All that was on my mind a lot as we worked together.  I often had a hardon at work, especially when I was around Paul.  But I just wasn't gonna ask him to fuck me.  He could go piss up a rope first.

One day about a week after our sex in the barn, I was replanting some young rose bushes from small pots into the bigger pots they'd be in when we sold them.  It was about 11:00 in the morning on a hot summer day.  All of a sudden I got hit in the butt with a stream from a hose.  

"What the fuck?!"  I stood up and turned around.  There was Paul with the hose, laughing his ass off.  He sprayed the front of me as I stood there yelling at him.

"Christ, Steiner, what are you doing?  You've got me soaked.  How can I let the customers see me like this?"

He trained the hose on my package, and I began to get hard.  "Relax, Ethan.  It's a hot day.  You'll be dry in half an hour.  I'll cover for you until your clothes dry."

I guessed there was no harm done, so after swearing at him for a while, I went back to  repotting roses.

"Maury's here, so let's take a break in the barn about 12:30."

"You're talking about having lunch, I suppose."

"Well, I've got some tasty things in mind."

That made my cock continue to swell.  "Okay, I'll be there unless Pop gives me something else to do."

"Try to make it, dude.  You won't be sorry."

Maury did eat his lunch early, so I was able to get to the barn when Paul was expecting me.  He was there, eating a sandwich.  (There was an old fridge in the barn where we kept our lunches and cold pop.)  

"Get your lunch, quick!"

"What's your rush?"

"Just eat, you'll see."

I managed to wolf down the sandwiches Mom had fixed me that morning.  I hoped I knew what Paul had in mind.

"Okay, Steiner, what's all this about?"

"First of all, I apologize for calling you a bitch last time.  I realize you can't help your, uh, cravings.  I didn't intend to demean you.  You've got a great ass, Hook, and you obviously like to have it fucked.  So I think we can make each other very happy this summer, okay?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

He stood up, took off his tee, and dropped his shorts.  He wasn't wearing any underwear.  He had a great tan, but his ass and upper thighs were pale.  He looked sexy as hell.

"Why don't you get this nice and wet, so I can fuck you with it?"

I wadded up the sandwich bag and napkin, threw them into the trash barrel, and started to kneel in front of Paul.  

"You may as well go ahead and undress.  It'll save time later."

I got out of my tee, shorts, and briefs.  Then I squatted in front of him and grabbed his cock, which was already half hard.

"I see you're enjoying this already," he said, motioning toward my prick, which was pointing up.

Embarrassed, I said, "Yeah, uh, I guess."

"Go ahead, man.  Take it!"

That was a request I was happy to fulfill, so I went to work on his tool.  I hadn't been sucking very long on his hard pecker when he said, "Hey, Hook!"

Without letting his rod out of my mouth, I tilted my head back a little and looked up at him.  A flash blinded me for a minute.  He had taken a picture of my face with his dick puffing out one of my cheeks.

"Hey, what the fuck?"

"Just a souvenir, Hook.  Just something to send to Cousin Geoff.  Now, get back to work, please."

I felt like putting on my clothes and leaving him there with his dick hanging out.  But I knew if I did I wouldn't be getting his dick up my ass that day, and maybe never.  So I went back to work.

He didn't let me suck on him for long, though.  He pulled out and said, "Okay, let's put this baby where you really want it.  Bend over that bale."

I got up and bent over the bale of straw.  

"Now, reach back and pull your ass cheeks apart so I can see your cute pucker."

"Hold on, Paul, I . . ."

"Just do it, Hook.  You do want me to fuck that nice ass, don't you?"

"Yeah."  I pulled my ass cheeks apart.  There was a flash and a click.  He had taken another picture.

He chuckled.  "When Geoff sees these pics, he may understand why his boyfriend couldn't resist you.  But ya know what?  I think you should keep your crack and pucker shaved for me.  Maybe your balls, too."

"Whatever!  Just get on with it.  And if you show those pics to anyone else, your ass is mine, Steiner!"

"Hey, all you have to do is ask.  I'd like to try that crooked schlong of yours one of these days."

That sounded like a good idea for another time.  I put my hands on the bale and waited for him to put his wet dick in me.  He spat on my hole a couple of times and worked the spit into it.  Then he slowly pushed his nice cock into my ass.  It wasn't as big as Philip's or Em's, but it felt wonderful, and he managed to hit my button so often that I decided maybe size wasn't really all that important.  He was scratching my itchy spot.  That's what mattered.

I grabbed my cock, supporting my weight with the other hand.  

"It's okay to jack yourself, but try not to come until I say, okay?"  He didn't give it as an order, just a suggestion.  But try NOT to come?  That was a first.  So I pumped my meat slowly, following his rhythm.

When it felt as if I was going to explode, I stopped and took my hand away.  Then, after I'd calmed down a little, I'd begin to jack again.  It was a totally amazing feeling.  Paul was hitting my nut often, and I'd see stars every time he did.  I was bringing myself to the edge and then backing off.  I'd never felt anything quite that intense before, and I thought I might pass out.

Suddenly, he said, "Okay, babe, now cum!"  I squeezed my dick hard, pumped it a couple of times, and I could feel the cum surging up from my balls.  At the same time, Paul went rigid.  He just pushed his cock as far into me as he could and froze.  I could feel his dick begin to spasm as my own pumped out a huge load onto the straw.  

I think I might have collapsed, but he put his arms around my chest and pulled me up against him, his tool still hard in my ass, his mouth right by my ear.  

"Oh, Hook, that was fanfuckintastic, babe.  You have one magnificent, hot, tight ass.  This is going to be quite a summer."  

I stepped away, and his cock pulled out with a sexy sucking noise.  I turned around.  "Yeah, Paul, it'll be some summer."  Then I attacked his mouth with mine.

When we finished kissing, I said, "Oh, but there's one thing."


"Yeah.  No more pictures, okay?"

He grinned.  "Well, hot stuff, if you insist."

*          *          *


I knew it was a conspiracy, but I couldn't be pissed because I knew they were doing it out of love.  My friends, that is.  After that meeting with Cedric, at least one of them called me every day, and I was constantly being invited to go places and do things with them.

Oh, there was one call that probably wasn't the result of Trey's orchestrations.  Steve called to ask how I was and to ask what the news was about Cedric.  I told him that Ced was well, that he'd come to see me, that the doctors were optimistic that he'd get his memory back.  He said he could imagine how much I hurt because Ced couldn't remember anything about our being together for a year, and he told me he hoped that Ced regained his memory sooner rather than later.  Then he commented that it made him sad to think that Cedric couldn't remember him at all.

I asked how he was doing.  I could hear the happiness in his voice as he told me about his weekends with Rebecca.  Obviously Steve was a goner, lost in love.  I told him so, and he chuckled.  

"Yeah, Tim, I guess there's no way to deny it.  I love the woman!"

"Steve, I can't tell you how happy that makes me.  I'm really glad you've found someone special.  I've known and admired Rebecca longer than you have, and I wouldn't wish just anyone on her.  I think you're both lucky.  Congratulations."

"Thanks, Tim.  Can I tell Becca you said that?"

"Sure!  And give her my best.  Oh, and Steve, let's have lunch soon.  You can tell me all about those two kids you've adopted."

"You mean Jared and Dante?"

"Yes.  You know, I've never met either of them."

"Well, let's fix that.  What say you join us at BK Friday about 6:00?"

"I'll be there.  And I'll look forward to seeing you and meeting the lovebirds."

"You know, Tim, I'm three years older than Dan and four years older than Jared, so they seem like kids to me.  It's really cute how much in love they are.  But you'll see."

"As I said, I'm eager to meet them, and to see you again.  And, Steve, thanks for calling."

"No prob, professor.  Later."

One morning as Max and I were doing our cool-offs in front of my house, Chaz sauntered up.  "Hey, dudes!"

"Hey, yourself, dude," Max said, grinning at him.  "Where's Trey?"

"Oh, Tiger's not a morning person.  His class isn't until 10:00, so he's still in the sack.  Or, perhaps I should say, back in the sack."

I chuckled.  "After a little early morning loving?"

He grinned.  "Well, let's just say he's one contented puppy right now."

"So, Chaz," Max asked, "what are you doing up, dressed, and out so early?"

"Oh, I can answer that, Max" I said.  "Chaz is a morning person, like us, and he's probably on his way to the gym.  Right, oh tall one?"

"Yup," he said, still grinning.

"Okay," Max said, "let me rephrase the question.  Why are you here at our doorsteps at this hour instead of on your way to the gym?"

"Trey and I were wondering if you guys would like to come with us to Noplace this evening for beer and burgers.  You know, we could just eat, drink, shoot the shit."

I looked at Max.  I could tell from his eyes that he wanted to do it.  "I'm not sure it would be good for the public image of our priestly friend to be seen in such company in such a place."

"Speak for yourself, professor.  I'm all for it!  What time, Chaz?"

"Meet me at the Tahoe at 6:30, and I'll drive, okay?"

Max gave me a look as if to say he dared me to object.  "Sure, Chaz.  That'll be great.  Thanks for asking us."

It was evidence of just how far he had come that Chaz gave us a big three-way hug right there on the sidewalk before he said, "Later, dudes."  

After Chaz had gone back across the street, I said to Max, "Why do I feel guilty because I'm looking forward to this evening?"

"Tim," he replied, "it's a very good sign.  You know, when I'm doing grief counseling, I tell people that whenever anyone asks them to do anything, they should say `yes.'  You have to live your life.  Cedric wouldn't want you to do anything else.  I hope he's getting out and seeing friends.  If he recovers his memory and wants to resume things with you, that won't have made any difference.  If he never gets it back, he'll at least have returned to the world, which is essential."

"Hey, Hewitt?"

"Yeah, Mead?"

"When did you get to be so smart?"

He laughed.  And something inside me warmed up at the sight of Max laughing.

"Oh, I've always been smart.  You just never wanted to admit it."

"Wrong.  I've always looked to you as my guru, Max."

His laughter faded and he looked at me very seriously.

"Really, Tim?"

"No joke.  I don't know anyone whose judgment I trust more than yours."

He was still a little flushed from our run, but I could swear I saw him blush.  

"So, I'll meet you out here at 6:30?"

"Uh huh.  As I said, I'm looking forward to an evening with you three guys.  Oh, and Max?"

"Yeah, Tim?"

"I promise not to drink too much this time."

*          *          *


It was a great evening at Noplace.  Tim was more relaxed than I'd seen him since Cedric's accident.  We did the totally cliché thing and had burgers, fries, and beer.  Even Tim had beer, though less of it than any of the rest of us.  Three of the four of us would under other circumstances probably have chosen wine, but we entered into the spirit of the occasion.  We'd all been beer drinkers at one time or another.  Besides, as Trey reminded us, the house white at Noplace was more like chilled vinegar.

The "dinner crowd" left and the beer-before-bedtime group hadn't arrived yet.  The place wasn't crowded as we finished eating, so Chaz brought another pitcher and we just talked.  Trey suggested that we needed to get Rick involved in one of these evenings, and Tim enthusiastically agreed.  "I feel so bad that I haven't gotten together with Rick more often.  He calls me once in a while to ask about Cedric and to see how I'm doing."

"Yeah," I said, "he calls me, too."

"Well, then," Trey said, "let's make a point of planning some sort of thing with Professor Rick."

"Trey," Tim said, "when you get to know him better, I think you'll be comfortable calling him just Rick."

Trey chuckled.  "Okay, Tim.  Let's get together with Just Rick soon."

Chaz laughed.  "Oh, man, that's baaaad."

After Chaz had dropped us off, I invited Tim to come into my place for while.  "I have something to tell you."

Inside, I kicked off my shoes and sat on the sofa, with a gesture inviting Tim to do the same.  He surprised me by sitting beside me on the sofa instead of in one of the easy chairs facing it.  He put his feet on the coffee table and wiggled his toes.

"So, Max, what's your news?"

At this point I should explain something.  I've said that my dad lived in Bath, which isn't all that far from the university.  It hasn't thus far been relevant to the story to mention it, but I managed to see him every week or so, and we talked several times a week on the phone.  He was in good health, enjoyed his work, was active in his church in Hudson.  For the last several months, he had often mentioned Barbara Hathcock, a widow whom he'd met at church.

"Tim, Dad's getting married.  He called the other evening to tell me."

"Max, that's great!  You know I love your dad.  He's been alone a long time.  It's wonderful that he's found someone.  Tell me about the lucky woman."

I told him what I knew about Barb.

"So, when's the big day?  I suppose you are officiating?"

"Yes.  I offered to be his best man, but he said that he wanted me to do the ceremony."

"Of course he did.  Where will it be?"

"At Christ Church in Hudson.  He says he's going to ask Father Hal to assist and do the homily, but he wants me to officiate."

"As I said, of course."

"Well, that's a little awkward for me.  Father Hal is Dad's age.  I feel like an upstart, especially coming into his church to do the service."

"Has your dad cleared it with Father Hal?"

"Yes, and he says the rector's okay with it."

"Then relax and just do it, Max.  You are a priest.  You are qualified to perform that ceremony.  Father Hal would be a jerk if he didn't understand."

I laughed.  "I know Hal.  He's not a jerk."

"Then what are you worrying about?"

"Nothing, I guess."

"Exactly.  Now, can you wangle me an invitation?  I'd love to be there."

"Oh, you'll be there.  Dad specifically asked me to ask if you'd be one of the groomsmen."


"Yeah.  He's always loved you, Tim, going back to our Kenyon days.  He knows that we've, shall we say, renewed our friendship here.  I've told him about our running every morning.  He knows how much I've leaned on you since David left.  I've told him about Ced, too.  And he said he'd take it as a personal favor if you'd be part of the wedding party."

"Max, I'm honored."

"Great.  I'll tell him.  Then I think you can expect a call from Dad."

He put his arm around me and hugged me.  "Max, in case I haven't mentioned it recently, I know how lucky I am to have you as my best friend."

To be continued.

Below is a list of all of the currently-posted stories by members of the group we like to call the "Nifty Six."

Ash Bradley

Ash and Dad   Incest   Jun 6, 2003  

How Will I Go On?   Relationships   current

Evan Bradley

Ambush   High School   Apr 19, 2003

The Crew   Adult Friends   current

Rubbing My Face in Hawk   Adult Friends   May 31, 2003

Tyler's Take-Down   Adult Friends   May 18, 2003

Tim Mead

Dr. Tim and the Boys/Tim and the Guys   College   current

Out of the Night   Adult Friends   last posting Jan 8, 2004

du Temps Perdu   College  Jul 30, 2003

Campus Scenes   College   Jul 27, 2004
   Beautiful Music  
   Billy Budd  

Mickey S.

Billy and Danny   College   current

Sandy Hook   Authoritarian   Dec 4, 2003

All of the following were posted between late April and early July, 2002:


Tales from the Reservation
1. Discovery
2. Huge cock, poppers
3. Almost Fuck
4. Straight blowjob
5. Black Stud (Friday afternoon)
6. Ball Play
7. Jumpsuit Boy
8. Latin thong
9. Group suck
Wet Mothers Day
Palm Springs Weekend
Twin Reality/Twin Fantasy
Rough Fuck
Fun at the Laundromat
Twin Fuck


Man in Black
Tony and Me


No Longer a Virgin
The Wall

Tom Wyatt

TNT Files   Adult Friends   May 28, 2003  

Slave to Love   Authoritarian   Jan 4, 2004

Patrick Young

Clay   Beginnings   Jul 22, 2003