Date: Tue, 24 Nov 2009 19:59:45 -0700 From: Roy Subject: Owen, chapter and 33 Owen Chapter thirty-three by Roy Reinikainen Owen closed the door to the small bedroom, grinning at Lucas who lay sprawled across the bed on his back. "What a day," he sighed, stretching his shoulders as if to loosen knotted muscles before he sank to the edge of the bed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I'm beat." He sat up straight, arching his back, and stretched as he massaged his face with both hands, inhaling deeply and blowing out a long puff of air as he stretched his arms out to his sides. "Y'okay?" Lucas asked, scooting closer. It was understandable that Owen was more quiet than normal; after all, he'd seen his father die only hours earlier. Then, he'd had a lengthy conversation with Corey, which left both men lost in thought. During dinner with the doctor and Bea, Owen had done his best to act like his normal self, but it was an act, and he did not play the part well. Owen turned to Lucas with a combination shrug and nod. "I'm feeling . . . I don't know . . . good . . . I guess. I sorta feel . . . free . . . for the first time in my life. Still . . . I don't know. It wasn't *right* for Pops to die like he did, no matter how bad a person he had become. It just wasn't right." He thought a moment, staring blindly at a point on the far wall of the bedroom. "Still, I guess, I no longer have to worry about what he thinks of me, and what he'd do to Mama and the girls if he came back home. I've also gotten some questions answered and a couple wishes fulfilled, so . . ." his grin was sad, "overall, I guess I should be feelin' pretty good, considering the circumstances. "Still, my feelings are all jumbled up. I'm feeling sorta depressed, yet I'm also thinking that I'd like to celebrate. I'm wishin' you'n I could do something to take my mind off of," he made an expansive gesture with an arm and hand, "all this. If we were back at school, I'd say let's invite Corey and Bailey to go with us to that little Italian restaurant so we could get a few cups of coffee and a bunch of cannoli." Owen's grin grew to a smile. "I'm sorta curious to see how that macho lady owner; y'know, the one with biceps bigger'n mine?" Lucas nodded. "Well, I'd like to see if she remembers Bailey. I'm sure he remembers *her.*" Owen chuckled at the thought. "Seein' those guys would keep me from having to think about everything that went on today." He shook his head. "There's just so much." He rubbed his hands over his face and released a long slow breath. "There's so much to take in, and I'm not wantin' to face any of it. So, if we were back at school, once the restaurant closed, we'd say bye to the guys and come back to the apartment and take a long, leisurely, hot shower. Then," he continued, as he grinned, wiggled his eyebrows, and lowered his voice, "then, we'd fuck like bunnies. "We're not back at school though, and I feel like I want to hide, y'see? I don't know why, or from what, but I just want to take my mind off . . . everything, and give myself some time." He sighed. "Yeah, that's what I'm needin' . . . time." He huffed a silent laugh. "Here I am thinkin' only about myself when I should be wonderin' if Jonah's okay. And, how Abigail and Opie are gonna take Pops' death, not to mention Mama." "A lot happened to you today, Owen," Lucas murmured, urging him to lay back with a gentle pressure of his hand. "It's not wrong or selfish to be thinking about how you're going to assimilate it all. As you say, it's going to take some time. Tell me," Lucas asked, turning onto his stomach and scooting closer, "how'd your visit with Corey go? You both seemed a little . . . subdued afterward. Were you telling him about today?" Owen rolled onto his stomach and lay half across Lucas, throwing a possessive leg over Lucas as he propped himself up on an elbow and ran a fingertip over the stubble of Lucas' chin. "We talked, but not a lot about me, other than, like usual . . . I did a lot of the talking. Both Corey and I needed to say some things 'bout growing up in abusive families. Corey more'n me, I'm thinkin'. Me tellin' him some stuff about me gives him permission to unload some of the stuff he needs to talk about. He's kept everything bottled up too long." "Oh geez," Lucas groaned. "Not him too. Does Bailey know?" Owen shook his head. "No, and I'm not sure it's the time to tell him, since he's immersed in diggin' himself out of his own hole, and I don't think he can handle a whole lot more." Lucas drew Owen to him. "What happened to him is serious, isn't it? I mean, it seems to me you're worried about Corey, probably more than about your sisters, Jonah, or your own feelings. Am I right?" Lucas asked, running his fingers through Owen's short hair as Owen rested his head on Lucas's chest. He felt an answering nod. "Yeah, I guess. His anger runs pretty deep. He doesn't know what to do, and he's hidin' what happened to him from Bailey until he figures things out. In fact, I think I'm the only person he's ever told about it, and I'm not really sure that I've gotten the whole story. What's worse is, I don't think Corey *ever* intends to tell Bailey . . . even when Bailey eventually can handle it. In his own way, he's afraid of Bailey . . . intimidated by him. He feels inferior to Bailey. He hides it well, just as he hides most things, but in a few unguarded moments, a person can read between the lines." Owen huffed a laugh. "We're quite a pair, Corey and me. We're both confused. It wasn't until he told me what happened to him and talked about his feelings, back at school, that I really examined what I was feelin'. Until then, I'd just gone on day-to-day, tryin' to make it through each one without crying or getting angry, or something. I was angry for so long that I started believin' that feeling the way I did was normal. After listening to Corey, and doin' quite a bit of thinking, I realized most of what I was feelin' wasn't anger but pain, wishin' things were different between Pops'n me." He snorted a soft laugh. "Corey's hurts are different than mine, and he has a longer way to go, I'm thinking, to where he can begin to work through things. I dealt with my hurts by bein' all quiet. He deals with his anger, pain, and insecurities by being a comedian. It's an act he's learned to be pretty good at. All the laughing and jokes also mean he's the center of attention. No one can ignore him like his parents did. The same goes for his love of lifting weights. The effort gives him a body which people look at and sets him apart from most other guys." Owen snuggled closer, gently kissing Lucas' brow. "You know, people like us, I mean, Corey'n me, we hide things so well, most people don't even know somethin's wrong. We're afraid to let others in, fearing they won't understand, or will ridicule us, thinkin' that we need to *grow up* and *move on.*" Owen snorted. "That's easy to say, but not so easy to do. It took us a long time to . . . get this way. It's gonna take us a long time to climb out of the hole we're in." Owen's speech faded into silence. When he finally spoke, it was almost as if he were talking to himself. "If it hadn't been for you, Lucas . . ." "Pucker-up, Cowboy," Lucas smiled, hoping to divert Owen's self-examination. "I haven't had a chance to kiss you for hours and hours . . . and hours." "And hours," Owen responded, a welcome grin in his voice. He rolled on top of Lucas, responding to his tight embrace and the feeling of their penises pressing against one another's. "Ohhh, Cowboy," Lucas exhaled, as his lips touched Owen's and their breath and tongues caressed. "We're together now. We've overcome snowstorms . . . fires . . . you name it. We'll . . ." He hesitated at the three soft knocks on the bedroom door. Owen looked up, not quite able to stifle a groan of frustration. He rolled to Lucas' side, propped himself up on an elbow, and ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to coax it back into place. "I'm not lettin' you go anyplace, mister," he murmured, keeping one of his legs intertwined with Lucas'. "We're not nearly done." "We've hardly started," Lucas grumbled, reaching up to rub his fingers over Owen's spit-wet mouth, just as there was another knock. "Yes?" Owen called. He half-expected the doctor to be knocking on the door, but, instead, it was Bailey who stuck his head into the room. His eyes widened when he saw the two men sprawled on the bed. "Uh, sorry guys," he murmured, and began to close the door. "Hey," Corey groused, from where he stood in the hall, "what's going on? They're not asleep are they?" He coaxed Bailey aside and looked into the bedroom. "Bailey and I were wondering if you'd like to . . . uh . . ." He cleared his throat, as his smile wavered. "But, um . . . actually, I think we'll just say g'night." "C'mon in, guys," Owen said, with a grin. "We weren't actually in the middle of anything." "Yet," Lucas murmured, grinning in Corey's direction, hoping to take any sting out of the word. He really did enjoy Corey and Bailey's company, and, after all, they *had* come all the way from school to visit. "Where's Daniel? Is he out in the hallway, too?" Owen asked. Corey laughed and shook his head, as he entered the room with Bailey a step behind. "Nope. He's already gone to bed. Sexy man, huh?" When Owen nodded and smiled, but refused to supply any details about the doctor, Corey continued. "I tell you, forty years old and acting like an old man. 'Course, the broken arm and . . . everything else . . . might have something to do with it." He lowered his brows. "Y'sure it's okay for us to be here? I mean, we've obviously interrupted." "No problem." Owen motioned for Bailey to close the bedroom door. "Scoot round," he urged Lucas. "Make room for the guys. They need someplace to relax." "You don't have to ask twice," Bailey laughed, as he climbed onto the bed next to Owen. "I've never been in bed with more than one guy before." He squirmed slightly, rubbing his groin into the bed. "It has possibilities." "Bail," Corey grumbled, "The man never actually asked for you to join them." Bailey waved away the comment with a dismissive gesture. "You're going to get your clothes wrinkled," Lucas murmured. Bailey's grinning response spoke more of his fundamental change in attitude than anything Lucas had yet seen. Bailey was at ease. He was approaching . . . normal. "It's all in a good cause. Besides, any wrinkles can be dealt with. I'm not going to let a couple wrinkles keep me from having fun." "Fun?" Corey asked. Bailey nodded. "That is precisely what I'm having. You should join us, Corey." He patted the small space next to him. "There's room." "Y'know," Corey warned, looking at the guys sprawled on the bed, with his arms crossed. "When Bailey lays on a bed, he automatically gets horny. Hell, I'm surprised he hasn't stripped-off already, and embarrassed us all. I mean, we do have our own bedroom, Bail. If you want to lie in bed, we can do it there." "This one's more cozy." Bailey turned onto his back and gave Corey an ingenuous look. "To allay your fears about embarrassing you, I believe I can manage to remain dressed. After all, when I usually get into bed, you're next to me; that's why I have an erection." "So, I guess I shouldn't climb on board then, huh?" "Your choice. What are you afraid of?" "I'm not afraid of anything. Since you've told us you're not feeling frisky, I'm just thinking how, when I left home, I thought I got away from hearing about people who were so poor they had t'sleep sideways on the bed." Bailey groaned, flicking a glance in Lucas' direction, and complained in a good-natured tone. "I feel it coming; another hillbilly story." Corey pushed at Bailey's foot, where it hung off the edge of the bed, with his tennis shoe. "I'm not a hillbilly, *Mister* Wilkins," he said, standing straight and feigning indignation. "Everyone I *know*, except you guys, is, but not me. There's nothing wrong with being one; it's just that I'm not . . . one. I'm just like you guys." "Ummmmm," Bailey murmured in a disbelieving voice, winking when Owen turned to question the sound. "You mentioned you'd like to hear a story 'bout back home in the woods." Corey took a deep breath, ignoring Bailey's groan. "Y'know, in the town next to mine," he began, "they once had a huge fire." Bailey groaned louder. "I told you." "Lots of damage 'n all," Corey continued, warming to his story. There was a smile in his voice and his eyes sparkled, as Bailey rolled his head from side to side, making low sounds of protest. "The fire was so bad the mayor's mansion even burned down." Corey sadly shook his head, recalling the sight and nudged Bailey. "It was awful . . . the fire pretty much took out the whole trailer park." "What?" Owen asked, giving Corey a disbelieving look. Corey laughed, both at Owen's reaction and at Lucas, who protested the story by tossing a pillow in his direction. He expertly stepped aside, thinking Bailey was a much better pillow-tosser. "Wait, guys," he said, bending to pick the up the pillow, and tossing it back to Lucas, motioning for the men on the bed to be quiet. Lucas flopped backward and playfully added his groans to Bailey's. Owen, on the other hand, swatted Lucas in an attempt to make him be quiet, and motioned for Corey to continue. "The mayor, sorry to say, perished in the blaze, trying to save a prized stuffed moose head that wouldn't get through the trailer's front door, on account of the antlers n'all. If he'd only thought to turn sideways, . . ." Another sad shake of his head, as well as another, even more woeful groan from the man, who now had a forearm thrown over his face. Lucas snorted amusement, both at the story and at Bailey's playful reaction to it, while Owen watched Corey in fascinated attention. "Ugly animals, moose," he added as an afterthought. Those *lips*!" Corey sighed, playing to his audience. "The mayor's poor wife was sooo upset, until she learned she had been left the old man's entire estate. However, she can't touch it until she turns fourteen." Corey shook his head, pleased, more than he could say, by Owen's smile. "Y'know," Corey said, as if the thought had only just occurred to him. "I think by the time she's fourteen, the entire estate, that old '48 Ford on blocks in the front yard, will have rusted away. It's certainly not *going* anyplace. After all, it hasn't had an engine or tires since before I was born." He sighed, staring off into the distance. "Ahhhh, what can be said for hillbilly romance?" "See?" Bailey asked, as he propped himself up on an elbow, motioning to Corey to give him a moment to talk, with an insistent motion of a hand. "Didn't I tell you? Next, he'll tell us about the hoopla caused when the drinking age was raised to thirty-two." "Huh?" Owen's brow furrowed. "They want to keep alcohol out of the high school," Bailey finished, looking toward Corey and making a face, which asked him to, top that. "Yep," Corey concluded, accepting the dare. "Growing up, I was surrounded by hillbillys. Hell, Freddy-Joe threw a big ol' beer bash, after he married his sister Sally-Jane, 'cause he had won the town's three million dollar lottery. Turns out he gets three dollars a year for the next million years." "Enough!" Lucas and Bailey shouted, simultaneously. "Hey, I like hearing about where Corey comes from," Owen interrupted. "Besides, I thought the guys were here to visit. Corey's tellin' us about his home . . . in the woods," he snickered, "waaaay out in the back of beyond." He held out a placating hand. "I'm sorry, Corey, but three dollars a year for the next million years!" He shook his head, accepting the nudge from the toe of Corey's tennis shoe. "And, a *moose* head . . . with *lips*?" Owen's boyish laughter threatened to infect everyone in the room. "I thought we were going to kiss," Bailey said, trying to stop laughing, and wiping his eyes as he glanced from Owen and Lucas, to Corey. "Didn't I hear something about kissing? I'm ready." "Kiss?" Owen asked. "I'm sure I heard someone mention kissing," Bailey insisted. "Don't say I didn't warn ya," Corey reminded everyone. "Get over here, Cor, and let's get serious." "Yee-haw," Corey laughed, throwing both arms in the air and gyrating his hips. "Does that mean you want me to get nekkid?" "Uuuuuuu," Owen purred. "Listen to him. Nekkid. Must be how they say it in the back woods." "You mean, the back of beyond," Lucas teased, interrupting Owen. Bailey snorted. "A person doesn't have to be *naked* to kiss." He turned to Owen and Lucas, and spoke in a stage whisper. "He wants to be . . . nekkid . . . so he can show off his body." "Uuuuuu." "Hey, Corey, if you don't want to kiss Bailey, it's okay." Lucas propped himself up on an elbow, threatening to tickle Owen to keep him from any more "uuuuuu," comments. "I mean, if you're uncomfortable, just say so. None of us will be upset." "I will be," Bailey muttered, "upset about the kissing, that is. He's a very good kisser." He snorted and shook his head. "As if *I* have that much experience." "Even so," Lucas continued, "if you don't want to . . ." "Now, you've done it!" Corey said, his fists resting on his hips. "You've called into question my manhood." Owen turned from Corey to Lucas, wearing a grin, as he said, "Uuuuu," another time, daring Lucas to stop him. "You threatened his manhood. Sounds serious." "You don't have to show us your manhood," Lucas teased, ignoring Owen, "unless you really want to." Bailey collapsed onto his back with another groan. "I just want a simple taste of his tongue, and now you've given him an opportunity to show off. You've just asked for more than you bargained for," he mumbled. "*That* big?" Owen asked, wide-eyed, studying Corey, who had thrust his hips forward and was lewdly cupping his groin. Bailey made a dismissive gesture, ignoring Corey's smile and nod, affirming his cock size. "In your dreams, Mister Hatfield," Bailey taunted, motioning to Corey. "Although, I must say, it *is* admirable." "Even if you don't want me to be *nekkid*, I can at *least* strip-down to my Jockeys," Corey grinned, flashing his brilliant smile as he tugged his t-shirt over his chest, revealing a mid-summer tan, twin slabs of chest muscle, small dark nipples, and a rippling stomach. "Show off," Bailey muttered, as Corey toed off his shoes, and slid his jeans over his muscular . . . tanned . . . legs. "Y'know," Owen murmured, when Corey was standing in front of them, adjusting the contents of the bright yellow pouch. "No matter how hard I try, I can't get that good of a tan." "You're not supposed to be looking at my *tan*, Owen!" Corey complained in exasperation, shaking his head, then turning to Bailey. "Clothes, Bail. Out of 'em." He made a hurry-up gesture. "But, I'll get hard," Bailey groaned. "I'm capable of kissing fully clothed." "I'm already hard," Lucas murmured, "but that happens whenever Owen's got a hand on my crotch." Owen snatched his hand away and grinned, blinking his innocence in Bailey's direction. "Besides," Lucas continued, as he restored Owen's hand to its recent location, "I'm enjoying Corey's show." "Aw, c'mon, Bail. You've got nothing to be ashamed of . . . down there. Besides, I *know* you're frisky." A faint flush of pink tinted Bailey's light skin as he bowed his head. Corey reached for Owen's free hand and tugged him to his feet. "Serve as an example," he urged. "Strip down to your underwear. It's time to show off! I'll bet you love people seeing your body." Owen pressed his lips thoughtfully together, his glance moving from the man at his side, to Bailey, and finally, to Lucas. "Then what? I'm thinkin' that I'm not an orgy kinda guy, if that's what you're thinkin' of." He bit his lower lip. "Though, if you guys are okay with limiting things to kissing and touching, I'm okay." "Touching's good with me!" Corey reached across the short distance separating him from Owen and cocked an eyebrow, requesting permission. Owen bit his lip then nodded once, his eyes lingering on Corey's before following the hand until it touched his chest. "Y'okay?" Corey's murmur was answered by a nod and a hint of a smile. "Doin' good," Owen murmured, his eyes dreamily half-closed, as Corey lovingly ran the open palm of a hand over his flat belly and chest, pausing to tweak a nipple to firmness. Owen extended his free hand to Lucas, and grinned at Bailey. "Don't just lay there, Bailey. I thought you wanted to suck on Corey's tongue. That's what I'm intendin' to do with Lucas." He motioned to Lucas to hurry up. Lucas paused a moment to analyze Owen's behavior. 'How much of what he's doing is an act?' Lucas wondered, 'in an attempt to ignore his feelings. 'Still,' Lucas thought, 'his smile and actions are captivating.' Owen's entire personality seemed embodied in his expansive movements. It was unusual for him not to be moving, pointing at things, running his fingers through his hair, or throwing his head back in free-flowing laughter. His mobile mouth seemed always to quiver on the verge of a smile, his startlingly pale grey eyes constantly sparkling from a hidden source of humor. 'How is it possible for him to behave as he does, with the background he comes from?' Corey wondered. 'Even now, with his eyes closed, a blush makes his face look alive.' Owen glanced at Corey through lowered lashes and grinned. "Feels great," he murmured in a husky voice, totally different from earlier in the day. A second later he made a halting motion, stepped back as he tugged off his shoes and socks, then stepped out of his slacks and kicked them aside. He glanced at Corey, wearing nothing more than a hint of a smile, and a jockstrap. His blush deepened as he heard Bailey's hiss of indrawn breath. "Sorry, guys. If I'd known we were going to be doing this, I'd have worn something other than a jock." "A *swim* jock," Bailey murmured. "A very *brief* swim jock," Lucas added, feeling a tingle in his groin at the sight of Owen's dark blond pubes sticking out above the waistband, and to either side of the pouch. "Damn, but I love pubic hair," he added, as Owen raised both arms to his sides, as if for inspection. 'And, pit hair,' Lucas added to himself. "Corey'n I are ready, guys," Owen smiled, looking at the two men on the bed, "but nothing's gonna happen till you've stripped down to *your* undies." He turned a penetrating look on Lucas, as if he were looking over the rim of a pair of glasses. "You *are* wearing undies . . . today . . . aren't you?" The comment seemed to make everyone relax, and soon all four men were standing before one another in their underwear. Corey's bright yellow boxer briefs stretched over his round buttocks, and cupped a cock which had thickened substantially from only moments earlier. Lucas was wearing a pair of very brief . . . briefs, which appeared to have been made from some country's flag, the left side red, the right side yellow, with a black waistband and trim. Surprisingly, Bailey, the man who had once claimed huffily that he 'lived for color,' was wearing a pair of plain white briefs. 'I never would have imagined Bailey would have such a nice body,' Owen thought to himself. Like Owen, Bailey was a pale-skinned blond. His closely clipped chest hair tapered to a narrow line as it crossed his flat belly, then disappeared beneath the waistband of his briefs. The pouch of the briefs strained to contain a rapidly stiffening penis, which Bailey covertly attempted to adjust to a more comfortable position. He shyly grinned when Owen caught his eye and smiled. Tonight, he seemed even more unsure of himself than normal, looking to Corey and Lucas for clues on what to do. The always smiling Lucas, stood close to Bailey, with an arm around his waist. "Here," he said, taking one of Bailey's unresisting hands and placing it on Owen's chest. "This is what you've been wanting to do, isn't it?" Bailey glanced uneasily from Lucas to Owen and nodded, both his voice and hand shaking as he sighed. "Oh yes!" He turned a hesitant smile on Owen. "You and Corey are so . . . so . . . perfect." He moved close to Corey and the two men kissed, as Bailey, almost reverently, ran one hand over Owen's chest, and the other over Corey's back. "Me," Lucas laughed, attempting to lighten the sexually charged mood. "I'm a confirmed ass man." Owen pushed back against Lucas' hand, then grinned as Corey's hand joined Lucas', tending to the other cheek, while he and Bailey continued to kiss. Owen had never watched anyone kiss before. Corey and Bailey's kiss was as erotic as possible, though not as aggressive or as sloppy as the ones he and Lucas shared. The sight of the two men's tongues seeking entrance to one another's mouths, as they parted, from time to time, coaxed his penis to a full erection. He felt the head push aside the jock's waistband. "C'mon, Cowboy," Lucas murmured in a voice rough with passion. "Let's swap some spit. What about it?" The other two men in the room apparently forgotten. He lay back on the bed, groped himself, then patted his stomach. "Climb aboard, handsome," he urged. "Damn," Corey muttered, nodding to Bailey to watch, as Owen climbed on top of Lucas, his smooth ass cheeks parting to show a hint of his tight pucker, and the jock pouch struggling to hold his cock and balls. "I could kiss *that* for a week," Bailey grinned, then leaned closer and whispered in Corey's ear. "And I intend to do just that with yours, the moment we get back to our room." "Uuuuu, Bail," Corey murmured, as he lay back on the bed next to Lucas and pulled Bailey on top of him. "I'm looking forward to that, but first, let's do some serious tongue wrastlin'." ---------- "Damn!" Daniel struggled into a sitting position, dangling his legs over the edge of the high bed. 'With all the day's excitement, and having Owen and the guys as house guests, I forgot to take my pain meds. Of course, the bottle is in my office, the same room Corey and Bailey are using.' He slid off the bed, wondering if he needed to try to slip into a pair of shorts, or whether Corey and Bailey would mind having a naked man drop in on them, for a brief moment, while he retrieved his medicine. He made a face, discarding the idea of struggling with shorts for so brief a time. 'Hell, I'd only have to take 'em off to go back to bed,' he rationalized. 'We're all guys. They'll be able to handle seeing me.' He paused in the doorway to his bedroom, suddenly struck with a thought. 'What if they're having sex, and I can't handle seeing *them*? Do I politely knock on the door, stick my head into the room, excuse my intrusion, and scurry over to my desk to retrieve the bottle?' He shook his head. 'No, if there's any indication that *that's* what they're doing, I'll forego the pills for tonight.' The light from beneath Owen and Lucas' door indicated that they were still awake, but . . . Daniel paused. Corey and Bailey weren't in their room. The door was standing open. Their stuff was set out neatly on the bed, but they were nowhere. 'Unless . . .' He took a cautious step toward Owen's bedroom door and heard a soft laugh, then Corey, in a slightly louder voice, complaining about Owen wearing a jockstrap, followed by Bailey's complaint that he wanted to kiss. 'Oh my,' Daniel thought to himself, as he leaned against the hallway wall. 'I wonder what all this means. I mean I *know* what they must be doing, but what does it all *mean* . . . the four of them . . . together?' His eyes widened. 'I hope they've adequately closed the room's draperies. I can't imagine how much hell there would be to pay if Maxine looked inside . . . and that would be just like her to do such a thing.' With that thought, he tip-toed back to Bailey and Corey's room to assure himself that at least the drapes in *that* room were completely closed. 'Oh,' he recalled, 'the pills.' He snagged the bottle out of his desk drawer, then made his way to the kitchen for a glass of water, and downed the prescribed dosage. 'What business is it of mine if the four of them have sex?' Daniel grinned into the darkness. 'I'm jealous, that's all. They're having a great time, and here I am, horny as I can get, with no way, other than wanking my own dick, to get off.' He shook his head as he walked back to his bedroom, pausing briefly to see if the light beneath the bedroom door remained on. "Well, guys," he said, aloud. "I hope you have a good time." He shook his head, and gently closed his bedroom door, muttering an exasperated, "kids," to himself. ---------- "Was it awful, Mama?" Abigail asked, joining her mother on the porch, tucking her legs beneath her on the cushioned chair, and reaching out to take her mother's hand. "I'm not sure exactly what I should be feelin'." She hesitated, aware her mother was studying her in the dim light. "I guess I'm pleased Pops is no longer in pain. I know I'm pleased that *you* no longer have to suffer because of his behavior. I'm really happy 'bout that. Of course, I'm happy us kids won't have to suffer any longer. Those are good things. "I'm sorry . . . " she hesitated, shaking her head in frustration. "This is where it gets rough. I'm not exactly sure what I'm *sorry* for. The fact that I didn't get to say goodbye? That none of us kids grew up with a *normal* father? That he's dead?" She shook her head. "I just don't know. "For a few moments, after you told Opie 'n me 'bout him dying, I was angry. You know why?" she asked, her young voice taking on a steel edge, as she turned to her mother, who shook her head. "Because he didn't suffer *enough*," Abigail said, with some heat. "The rest of us suffered daily 'cause of him, and I was thinkin' that he got off way too easy." Abigail heaved a deep breath. "Then, I realized that he *had* suffered, prob'ly for years. Who knows, maybe he suffered more'n all of us." "Mama?" Opie's little girl voice called from within the house. "On the porch, sweetheart," Bea called. Opie pushed open the screen door, clinging to one leg of her stuffed toy panda, and squinted into the darkness. "I'm going to bed," she announced, "and I need you to kiss me good night." She matter of factly walked to her mother's side and turned her cheek toward her mother, waiting for a kiss. "Thanks," she said, seeming anything but sleepy as Bea watched her fondly, tucking a stray strand of the little girl's blonde hair behind an ear. "Are you talkin' 'bout Pops?" Opie asked, looking first at her mother, then her sister. "Are you doing okay, sweetheart?" Bea asked. "Do you need to talk about what you're feeling?" Opie thought a moment, then shook her head and clutched her stuffed toy animal to her chest. "I don't like him bein' dead, but I'm glad he's not coming back. I like laughin' too much. I couldn't laugh before, or do my pictures where he could see me. I'm happy. It's a good thing . . . laughing." She nodded her head, emphasizing her words, then yawned. "G'night, old woman," she teased, playfully punching her older sister on the shoulder as she passed, then giggled, and scampered inside, leaving the reluctant screen door half closed behind her. Abigail watched her sister disappear into the house, then turned to her mother. "*That* is how I feel!" Bea gave her daughter a sad smile. "Me too, sweetheart. Me too." ---------- "Yo, mama!" Corey blurted, as he rolled off of Bailey and on to his back. He theatrically waved one hand in front of his face, as if to feel the breeze, while wiping across his spit-wet mouth with his other. "Look at me!" He held out a muscular arm which glistened with perspiration, then wiped a hand over his chest and belly, pausing to scratch the prominent mound of his underwear. "I'm sweatin' worse than a whore in church!" He sniffed an armpit and smiled. "I'm loving it! This place is beginning to smell like a locker room." He ran a forefinger over the head of his cock which protruded above the waistband of his underwear, smeared the pre-cum around, then licked his finger. "Yumm," he smacked his lips. "I love tasting my own stuff." Corey rolled to a sitting position and crossed his legs. Bailey lay on his back nearby, his legs slightly spread, watching Corey for a clue as to what to do next. Owen laid on his stomach at Lucas' side, his head resting on the crook of Lucas' shoulder, the two men sprawled on the remainder of the bed, next to Bailey. Owen's pale butt cheeks were framed by his jock, while Lucas' brightly colored underwear did little to hide his cock, in a strained curve over his balls. "Guys," Corey tentatively began, causing everyone to look up. "I'm feeling all charged up, and I'm wondering if it might not be best for Bailey and me to go back to our room. I don't want to fuck'n stuff, but I really do need to cum. My dick feels like it's gonna break, it's so hard." He reached beneath the waistband and groped himself, lewdly running his hand over the length of his erection before he gathered another string of pre-cum and brought his finger to his lips to lick it off. Owen untangled himself and sat up, reaching for Corey's hand. He grinned, then sucked on the same finger, which Corey had, only moments earlier, had in his own mouth. No one missed the widening of Corey's eyes, or the slight relaxation of his muscles. "Don't go, guys," Owen said, releasing Corey's hand. "I know I said I didn't want to have an orgy, and I still don't, but I really would like the two of you to stay." He turned toward Bailey and rubbed a hand over his chest, the closely-clipped hair reminding him of Lucas'. "You guys are my closest friends, and all of us . . . being here . . . like this, makes me feel like we're sharin' something important." He paused. "Don't go, please." "Lucas?" Bailey asked, in a low voice, hoping not to offend either man. Like Corey, he wanted . . . badly . . . to come. He also was excited, more than he would have thought, by Owen's near-nakedness. "I agree," Lucas answered. "I'm not asking the both of you to spend the night, since this bed isn't nearly large enough for that, but it's the perfect size to be close and get over being afraid of one another. Have you noticed how, other than Owen, a couple minutes ago, that we've hardly touched one another. If we're afraid of touching, I can't help but think we'll be afraid of getting close in other everyday ways. I want to be able to get close to my friends, and have them feel comfortable being close to me. "I think Owen's right about the other thing, too. Being here with you, like this, makes me feel . . . I don't know . . . closer, I guess . . . to each of you. Whenever I've been with a guy in the past, it's always just been the two of us. The sex would happen, we'd pat one another on the back, and go our own ways. Of course, that changed when I met Owen, at least the going our own ways part of it. I feel good about having you guys here, but whether you decide to leave or stay, I do have to lose the underwear." With that, he bent his knees, put his feet flat on the bed, arched his back, and slipped off his briefs, sighing as he idly toyed with his genitals. "That's so much better," he grinned, playing with his pubes. "Now," his grin broadened, "let's have a good time guys, and not be afraid of doing something which will upset someone else. We know what the ground rules are. Are you game?" "Yep," Corey laughed. He scooted to the edge of the bed and stood. "Here, guys," he said, pointing to his underwear. "Get these things off me." He lowered his voice and thrust his hips forward. "I feel like getting close." "You got it," Bailey volunteered, stripping off his own briefs and tossing them aside. "Damn," Corey sighed, as Owen placed an outspread hand over the firm nub of each nipple and began working his way down Corey's belly, where, with one finger of each hand beneath Corey's waistband, he paused. "You want 'em off?" he asked, in a low, teasing, voice. Corey nodded, sharply inhaling as Lucas knelt at his side and squeezed his buttocks with one hand as he cupped the bulge of Corey's groin with the other, squeezing gently. "Ohhh, yes," Corey managed, pausing to kiss Bailey. "This is so amazing. C'mon, Owen," he squirmed slightly, "let my dick out. This is not the time to tease a guy. No matter how cool it is for someone down there to be fingerin' the underside of my cock, it'd feel better to be set free." "That's my cue," Lucas laughed, low in his throat. He and Owen slowly lowered Corey's bright yellow boxer briefs, exposing the tan line and the flawlessly-white skin of Corey's butt cheeks. "Holy fuck," Lucas exhaled, "you are freaking gorgeous." Relieved of his underwear, Corey spread his feet slightly, inviting Lucas and Owen to explore. "I'm yours, guys," he urged. "Go wherever you want. Don't be afraid." "Fantastic butt," Lucas murmured, barely loud enough to be heard, as he caressed the two smooth, firm mounds of muscle. In response, Corey reached back and spread his cheeks, inviting Lucas' further exploration. The cleft between Corey's ass cheeks was hot, as Lucas tentatively ran a finger over Corey's pucker. 'It's all well and good,' he thought, 'to talk about freely touching, but I still feel as if I'm going someplace I have no right to be.' Even so, he paused, quickly licked a finger, and rubbed it around the pucker's perimeter, pleased with the tremor he felt course through Corey's body. Next were Corey's testicles, smoothly nestled up to the base of his straight erection. As he held them, Lucas could feel them shift beneath his fingers, and the scrotum relax. 'Damn,' he thought to himself, 'this is wild.' While Lucas was exploring the area between Corey's legs, Bailey knelt in front of Owen. "May I?" he asked, resting a hand on Owen's shoulder, shyly nodding toward Owen's straining jock. In response, Owen leaned forward and tenderly kissed Bailey's cheek. "Oh!" Bailey straightened in surprised reaction, as he reached up and touched the spot where he'd been kissed. He watched Owen with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. "You kissed me!" "Y'okay?" Owen murmured, his lips turning up slightly into a smile. He was answered by a single nod and bowed head. "You have no idea how okay I am, Owen," Bailey answered, blinking through a watery blur. "That kiss was like a validation of everything I've been working so hard to do. It's like receiving an outstanding grade from an instructor." The corners of his lips trembled as he tried to smile. "Thank you . . . so much." "It was only a kiss," Owen murmured, trying to comfort Bailey, who appeared about to be overcome with emotion. "To you, maybe," Bailey shook his head. "It meant much more to me." "Hey, guys," Corey groused, good-naturedly, "don't forget about me. Lucas can't possibly cover all the bases by himself, y'know." Owen quickly stood and stripped out of his jock, the last of the four men to be naked, and embraced his friend. Lucas looked on as Bailey, almost reverently, caressed Owen's thick erection and smooth balls. "There's no chance of us forgetting about you, my hillbilly friend," he said with a smile, causing Corey to snort softly. Owen lowered his voice and murmured in Corey's ear. "With us as friends, you'll never feel ignored again. I promise." Corey froze, and clutched at Owen. "Promise?" he asked, a hint of desperation in his voice. "For real?" Owen nodded, stifling a groan as Bailey's hand snaked between his legs. "Truly," Owen murmured. "Whatever happens, we will not let you be alone, will we?" Owen asked Lucas, who was hugging Corey from the side opposite of Owen. Lucas grinned agreement, touched by the reaction Owen's words had brought about. "We're here for you, Corey, just as you've been here for Owen. Remember it. You do not have to face *anything* alone. Now," Lucas added, blinking back his own water-filled eyes. "There's an awesome naked man standing in front of me, who has invited me to feel him up." He grinned a crooked grin and wiggled his eyebrows once. "And, I intend to do just that. There's a lot of unexplored territory I have to cover." He leaned close and quickly kissed Corey's cheek. "You're a good man, Corey Hatfield. Don't you ever let anyone make you think otherwise." "Oh, guys," Corey choked, leaning first to kiss Owen quickly on the lips, then doing the same thing to Lucas. "No one has *ever* said that to me before." "Hey," Bailey groused, holding on to Owen's suddenly-limp penis. "What's going on up there? This isn't the time for a confab. You're talking so much you've all lost your erections!" He leaned back from Owen and studied Corey, who was wiping his eyes. "Cor? Is everything okay?" Bailey glanced from Owen to Lucas, prepared to stand. "Perfect, Bail," Corey laughed, with a catch in his throat. "I was just thinking, though, that the best sermons are lived, not preached." Corey chuckled. "Suffice it to say, that I am surrounded by good men, and am feeling very, very lucky." "Very hard too," Owen murmured, as he stroked the length of Corey's returning erection. "Carry on like that much longer, mister," Corey murmured, slowly thrusting his hips back and forth, "and it'll be spitting at you." Owen grinned. "Good. It feels so much different, holding someone else's dick, from holding my own, or Lucas'. Hey, Bailey," Owen continued, struck by an idea. "Stand up here, and take care of my cock for me, will ya? I'm feelin' like I'd like to get rid of a bunch of cum I've been buildin' up." He grinned. "Y'think you can coax it outta me?" Bailey sprang to his feet. "As someone we all know and love would say, "Yee haw!" Bailey imitated Corey, but instead of gyrating his hips in a circle, he thrust them back and forth, poking his erection in Lucas' direction. "Watch where you're aiming that thing, mister," Lucas warned. "While you're taking care of Owen, I'm gonna teach you what a good hand-job feels like." He wrapped his fingers around Bailey's cock and began to slowly tease him toward an orgasm. He'd once sworn that hell would freeze over before he would ever touch Bailey in a sexual way again. While growing up, they'd had many sexual encounters, each of them a disaster. When Bailey had begun to treat him as . . . property . . . Lucas had had enough and had told Bailey so, and had not thought of Bailey in a sexual way since. 'Well,' Lucas thought, 'I've changed, as has he. We're not the same two guys who played childish games. Bailey has finally realized he cannot own another person's affections. Now, we're friends.' "Thanks, Lucas," Bailey murmured. "I know how much it took for you to touch me like that." "Shhh." He teased the tip of Bailey's cock, spreading the pre-cum over the ultra-sensitive cock head. "I've got an idea," Lucas said, as Corey expertly began working on him. "When everyone is ready to cum, shoot your load into my hand." "Less talk, Lucas," Owen urged. "I'm needing to concentrate on what I'm doing and feelin'. It is so cool to be jackin' a guy off with one hand while another guy is doin' the same t'me." "Better get that hand ready," Corey murmured. "Owen knows what he's doing. I haven't shot in a couple days and I'm thinkin' that I could fill your hand, all by myself." He closed his eyes tightly, took a deep breath, bent his knees slightly, as Owen aimed the head of his cock at Lucas' palm, just as the piss slit spread wide and four thick strands of sperm splashed into the center. "Now, me," Owen whimpered. "Bailey," he urged. "Do it for me . . . slowly," he added. Bailey licked his lips once, as if in concentration, then returned his hand to Owen's penis and slowly began to stroke its length. 'I dreamt of Owen asking me to touch him like this,' Bailey thought to himself, as he felt the silky smooth thickness of Owen's cock pulse beneath his fingers. 'I don't know how many times I masturbated thinking about doing exactly what I am now doing.' He slowed his stroke and watched the head appear, then disappear beneath his grip, mesmerized by the way the slit gaped open with each downward stroke. 'It's perfect,' he thought . . . 'thick, just like Corey's.' A tremor coursed through Owen's body, causing Bailey to inwardly curse. 'Damn,' he swore, with some heat. 'Over so soon?' Owen's cock thickened in his hand. Owen gasped one deep breath of air, twitched, and shot, draining himself onto Lucas' hand. "I can't take it," Bailey groaned, using some of Owen's sperm which had drooled onto his fingers, as lube to stroke himself. "I've gotta cum . . . now." The fact that he was using some of Owen's juice as a lube was better than any dream he'd ever conjured. He stroked himself a couple times then grasped the base of his cock and rested the head in the sperm Lucas had already collected. "Oh, fuckin' crap," Bailey hissed on an indrawn breath, jerking with each contraction. "That . . . has . . . got to be . . . the . . . best . . . orgasm ever," he gasped. "Here," Lucas reached out his free hand and collected some sperm Bailey milked onto his free hand. When Lucas turned his attention to his own penis, Bailey stepped behind him and wiped the head of his cock over Lucas' butt, followed by what was left on his hand. He knew this was something Lucas enjoyed, and it pleased him that he was once more able to do this for his friend. The jiz was slippery under his fingers, and Lucas' cheeks smooth. When Lucas pushed backward against his hand, Bailey ran a finger down the cleft in Lucas' butt, then between his legs. The moment he touched the hole, Lucas trembled and gasped. "C'mon, handsome," Owen urged, from where he now knelt, fondling Lucas' scrotum. "Give us your load." Lucas' body was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, as he continued to fist himself, his eyes closed in concentration, trying to prevent his other hand from losing its contents. "Hey," Owen murmured, touching Corey to get his attention. "He loves pits." Lucas whimpered, and Corey smiled his understanding. "Here, guy," he murmured, standing close to Lucas and holding his arm in the air. "All yours." This time the groan of pleasure was louder and Lucas' knees began to tremble. He buried his nose in Corey's armpit and inhaled deeply . . . once . . . twice. "Lick," Corey ordered. "Lick my pit clean!" Lucas trembled with excitement, extending his tongue to lick a broad swath across the mat of sweaty hair. The smell and taste was too much. Lucas groaned so loudly Owen was afraid they'd disturb the doctor. A moment later, he shot in his own hand, adding his juice to that of the other three men. The first shot missed the intended target and splashed against Owen's chest. The second, third, and fourth though, increased the pool of sperm almost to overflowing. "Geez," Owen murmured, spreading the splash around on his chest, "that was awesome!" "Sweet," Corey echoed. Instead of saying anything, Bailey rubbed his now-dry palm over Lucas' back, aware that his and Lucas' relationship had healed. Lucas blinked twice and smiled, slowly coming down from his orgasm. "Damn, but that was good," he grinned, the large pearlescent pool in his hand holding his attention. "This is what we're going to do," he instructed, as he stirred through the liquid with a forefinger. "Each of us is going to slurp up some of this juice. I wanted to taste you all. This is the best way." "Aw, fuck," Bailey moaned, as he began to toy with his thickening cock. "I've just cum, but the thought of swallowing you guys' stuff makes me want to shoot again." "Same here," Corey began, then paused when Lucas extended his hand and placed it in front of Corey's face. "Do it, Cor," Bailey urged, in a husky voice, barely more than a whisper. "Taste our stuff." Corey pressed his lips together, as if in indecision, inhaled slowly, then steadied Lucas' hand and lapped across the edge of the pool where it threatened to flow from between Lucas' fingers. He straightened, and coaxed a strand of sperm, which dangled from his lower lip, into his mouth. Everyone watched as Corey, eyes closed, savored the taste of his and his friends' jiz. "Fuuuck," he murmured, opening his eyes and smiling. "I've never ever tasted anything like that. I could tell that it came from different people." He shook his head in wonder. "Freakin' awesome." "Me, next," Bailey begged. Lucas held out his hand to Bailey, who licked across the opposite side of his hand. When he straightened, he seemed almost in a trance. "Oh, my," he murmured, licking his lips in hopes of finding some of the fluid he'd missed. "There are no words . . ." "Cowboy?" Lucas offered. "Your turn." Owen grinned slightly as he caught Bailey's eye, then took Lucas' hand in both of his and slowly raised it to his mouth. "Corey," he murmured, turning toward his friend, "Bailey," he grinned, in that direction, "Lucas and I have become part of you, now," he lapped slowly across Lucas' palm, slurping up half of the remaining puddle and swallowing. "Now, you both are a part of me." Lucas licked off the remaining sperm and swallowed. "And me." Bailey's voice caught as he tried to speak. "I . . . I . . . always wished I had a brother. Now, I feel as if I have three." "We do, Bail," Corey murmured, stepping to Bailey's side and holding him close with a hand around his waist. "We all do." ~ to be continued ~ Thank you for taking the time to read my work. I *always* welcome your email and enjoy hearing your thoughts. If you would like me to send you a pic of the character(s), please ask. Roy Reinikainen roynm@mac.com