The following story is a work of gay erotic fiction dealing with sexual relationships between boys of high school age.  If such stories are not to your liking or if you are not of legal age to read such stories in your jurisdiction, please exit now.

This is a work of fiction and in no ways draws on the lives of any specific person or persons. Any similarity to actual persons or events is entirely coincidental.

This work is copyrighted by the author and may not be reproduced in any form without the specific written permission of the author.  It is assigned to the Nifty Archives  under the terms of their submission agreement but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written permission of the author.

Again, special thanks to Andrew, who again proofed the text as well as to Malcolm, who gave it a further critical reading.  Your work is much appreciated.

This is the second in a series of interrelated stories titled Cutler House, which is a sequel to the series titled Montgomery Hall.   While it is expected that the individual stories will stand independently, they should be more enjoyable if read as a group.  If you wish to receive  e-mail notification of subsequent posting,  please let me know by sending your request to the e-mail address below.

          jvoyager@hotmail.com

Dave and Monty and I spent a lot of time working together over the summer. We'd all three worked for Mrs. Cutler, who is Dave and Monty's grandmother, helping with her large rose garden at Montgomery Hall. I'd known the guys before working with them but we really became good friends over the summer. Also, during July, Dave and Monty's uncle, Martin Cutler, had come home for a couple of weeks. Martin is an attorney in New York and during his visit, he and I had become lovers.

A lot of people would read that and assume Martin sort of took advantage of me. After all, he's in his mid thirties and I'm sixteen. The truth is, I really had to push hard to get Martin to have sex with me. I'd known for a long time that I was gay. I also knew I needed a caring, knowledge teacher. When I met Martin I knew instinctively that he was the teacher I had been looking for. Over the brief time I was with him, I also learned to love him. He also expressed his feelings for me, assuring me that they went way beyond sex, as wonderful as the sex had been.

Then, before returning to New York, Martin had invited me to visit him there. I am now a junior at the high school at Greenwood, Mississippi. I play quarterback and wide receiver for our football team and stand a good chance of making All State this year. I also have an excellent academic record and want to go to the best university I can manage to get into. Columbia in New York is looking really good. Martin talked to my dad about me coming to New York and dad was okay about it. The big surprise was not that dad had agreed to the trip, but that he more or less told Martin that he knew I was gay and that he knew Martin was gay as well.

That more or less knocked me over! I never guessed that mom and dad had any suspicions about my sexuality, let alone that they would be more or less comfortable with it.

Before Martin returned to New York, we agreed that I should feel free to explore my sexuality with other guys. And I must admit, I had already had my eyes on Martin's nephews. I had sort of figured Dave and maybe Monty were at least curious about guys and figured if I spent more time with them, we might end up messing around together. Sure enough, when they and I had a free weekend in late September and I stayed over with them, our friendship moved in that direction.

I'd gotten to their place on Thursday afternoon and that night Dave approached me. We had sex and ended up falling asleep together in his bed. The next morning, about eight o'clock, I felt the bed move as Monty suddenly sat on its edge. Dave and I were suddenly awake. As I tried to pull the sheet over our naked bodies, I realized that Monty, who like Dave and I had gone to bed naked, was still naked and very erect.

"I knew it!" Monty had said, "you guys did it and I slept through the whole thing." He reached out to pummel his brother's shoulder. "Damn it, Dave. I just knew you guys were gona do it and I went and fell asleep.

"Watch your language, Monty," Dave said to his younger brother, his own voice little more than a whisper as he came more fully awake.

"Well, shoot!"

"That's better."

"Shucks, Dave," Monty began again, "I wanted to watch!"

Dave rolled over and looked at me, realizing that what Monty had just said seemed to suggest a level of sexual openness between the two brothers which went way beyond what I had suspected.

"Monty and I beat off together."

"Yeah?" I said. Being an only child, I had no idea what was normal between brothers.

"For about a year," Monty added. "I came around the corner one morning and saw Dave beating off. He was lying on his back in bed, naked and uncovered and really giving his dick a work out. He didn't see me watching, so I just stood real still and saw the whole show. It was so hot."

"Maybe you thought I didn't know you were watching," Dave grinned, rolling over a little closer to me. "You knew I was there?"

"Sure, I saw you out of the corner of my eye. If I hadn't been so close to coming, I might have tried to stop.

As it was, I couldn't have stopped if I'd wanted to so I just kept flogging away." He ran his hand down over my chest and added, "actually, it was sort of hot, knowing you were so turned on watching your big bro doing it."

"So when you did it in front of me in the shower a few days later you knew I'd seen you at it before?"

"Yeah, and I figured if I started it, you'd probably join in, which you did."

"So you guys have been doing it together for the last year or so," I said, feeling my own erection growing under the sheet as Dave stroked my chest and moved his hand down a little further over my stomach. As his hand moved lower the sheet was pushed away revealing my fully erect and now pulsing cock.

"Yeah, in the shower," Monty said, repeating what Dave had just said, and I realized his eyes were fixed on Dave's hand as it moved over me. Was Dave doing it on purpose? Was he sort of laying claim to me, letting Monty know that the new level of intimacy between him and me was his to demonstrate?

"When we started," Monty went on, "I couldn't even really come. I mean I could reach a sort of dry climax and that was pretty great." His eyes were still fixed on Dave's hand, which had now moved down a little more as he ran his fingers through my pubic hair. "Then one day about three or four months ago I actually shot my first load."

"And I was there to see it all," Dave grinned.

"It was awesome, like the world was coming to an end."

"I guess that does give new meaning to coming," I grinned.

"It was great and ever since I have been doing it two or three times a day."

"So I guess Dave doesn't get to see all your performances."

"No, but enough," Dave said, "the kid is insatiable."

"And you're not?" Monty demanded.

"Hey, I'm the same way," I said, trying to be the peacemaker, "it's the same for all teenage guys."

"Yeah, I guess," both brothers agreed simultaneously.

"But so far you've just watched each other do it, you haven't sort of reached out and helped the other guy out?"

"No, just watched each other," Dave said, his hand moving closer to my cock, "but I've sort of thought about it."

"You have?" Monty asked with considerable force.

"Yeah, bro, you look so cute and so hot doing it, I keep thinking it would be great to just see what you felt like."

"Oh, man!"

"You telling me you haven't thought of helping me out, too?"

"Sure I have, every time I watch you, but I sort of figured you'd freak."

"Well, I guess having Tim stay over is getting a lot of stuff out in the open," Dave grinned as his fingers finally made contact with my cock. He formed his thumb and first finger into a ring and began to slowly move it up and down the length of my hard penis as his brother sat there, his eyes glued to the action.

"And I guess you guys have a lot of new territory to explore," I said, trying to keep my cool with Dave's hand on my cock.

"Yeah," Monty giggled, "hot, hard, long territory."

"Well, I don't know about you two," Dave said, "but I know I stink and I want a long hot shower." He moved his hand from my cock, rose in one fluid motion from the bed and then turned and extended his hand to me. As I grasped it, he pulled me up from the crumpled sheets, forcing Monty to move fast to avoid being knocked off the bed by our bodies crashing into him.

So three very erect guys, Dave, Monty and me, paraded from Dave's sleeping area to the welcoming shower. Once in the glass enclosed stall, Monty had his fun turning each of the three heads on full blast before we could get to the controls. Our bodies were pummeled by a cascade of icy water, and just at that moment, the guys' younger brother, Steve, came racing into the bath to announce that if we "didn't get our butts in gear and down to breakfast, NOW," we were in serious trouble. Once that speech was delivered, he gave a little laugh and added, "and lose the hard-ons, okay?"

"Don't you just love kids?" Monty said as the water finally came up to a reasonable temperature and we began to run the rich soap over our bodies. It was citrus shower gel, the same brand Martin and I had used and waves of memories came flooding back.

I was kind of glad for Steve's interruption because I sort of figured we might have ended up doing what we'd been talking about and I realized I wasn't sure I was really comfortable with it, at least not yet.

Once out of the shower and dry, we pulled on what seemed to have become our weekend uniforms; khaki cargo shorts with no underwear, loose T-shirts and tennis shoes, no socks. Easy on, easy off, I thought, noticing that both Dave and Monty wore very worn but very expensive shoes. Mine were newer but of a much less expensive make.

I don't know if it was because I was there or not, but Mrs. Cutler had really made a great breakfast. It was Friday morning of our long weekend, thanks to our teachers all being off at some conference or something, and it was just so nice to know we didn't have classes again until the following Monday and at least Dave and I had all our homework done.

Mrs. Cutler was making waffles and since the guys and I were sort of slow coming down, she was giving the first ones off the iron to Steve and Patty. We got juice and milk and settled in at the table while she made a second and then a third round for us. She had also fired up a huge batch of link sausages so by the time we were finished, I at least was stuffed.

One other great thing about that weekend was that my mom had let me use her car. Mom is a teacher in the primary school in Greenwood and was off at the teachers' meetings in Jackson. Since she had planned to ride down with some other ladies from her school, her car would have gone unused, so for the first time, she and dad let me use it from Thursday morning until I headed home Sunday morning in time for church.

Mrs. Cutler told me over breakfast that my mom had called to see how I was doing. I guess she asked if I was behaving myself. She also asked Mrs. Cutler if their family would come to our house for lunch after church on Sunday. That kind of worried me a little. We have a very nice place in a new section of three bedroom ranch houses on the west side of Greenwood but, compared to Cutler House, it is really small. I should have known it would be fine, but you know how it is when you're my age.

As we were finishing the last round of waffles, Mrs. Cutler came over and joined us at the table. "Now, boys, we need to work out a plan for the rest of today," she began.

Patty and Steve sat up and paid special attention. Dave and I just put down our forks and waited. Monty groaned. I guess he suspected what was coming. "I have several errands to run this morning but I'll be back in time to make sandwiches for anyone who wants to be here for lunch."

"If Tim and I get something while we're out, is that okay, mom?" Dave said.

"Sure, honey, do you guys have money?"

"Yeah, mom, I'm fine," Dave replied.

I added, "I have money, too, Mrs. Cutler. I think I should buy Dave lunch."

"Well, keep it light, we're all going to Grandma's for a cookout tonight."

"Yeah?" Dave jumped in. "Do you think we could swim?"

"I'm sure you can, if the water in the pool isn't too cool for you."

"Oh, we're tough, Mom," Steve said, anxious to make it clear that he and Patty expected to be included in the fun.

"Okay then," their mother went on. "So that leaves you, Monty."

"I can guess," he whined.

"Well, Monty, you know Dave made a special effort to get his homework done before Tim arrived so they could have more free time this weekend. It was your choice to wait, so now you have to do it today. The rest of the weekend it going to be too busy so I want it all done so it won't be interfering with our plans."

"Yeah, mom," Monty groaned.

"And since you're going to be home anyway, Monty, I'm asking you to look out for Steve and Patty. Jane will be in early this afternoon and if you aren't finished by then, you can let her take over with the kids and finish anything you haven't gotten done this morning."

"Errrrr," Monty groaned.

Both Steve and Patty spoke up to say they didn't need to have a baby-sitter and, anyway, Steve had work of his own to do. Patty said she didn't have homework, but she did have a project. They both said they'd stay out of Monty's way so he could work on his lessons."

"Well, that's fine. But, Monty, I do want you to work here in the family room and keep track of where Steve and Patty are. If they're going out to play in the yard or are going off to a neighbor's, you must be sure to know where they're going and when they'll be back. And, kids, you understand Monty's in charge."

"Yeah, mom," they all three agreed.

"I guess I won't know where you boys are until you show up here," Mrs. Cutler said to Dave and me.

"My mom's cell phone is in her car, Mrs. Cutler. I'll be glad to keep it turned on so you could reach us if you needed."

"Oh, good, Tim. That would be a big help. Maybe you can give the number to Monty as well." I wrote it down for both of them before we left the table.

As Dave and I headed back up to the guys' room, Monty tagged along. "I guess I know what you'll be up to," he said, addressing his comment to both of us. As usual, he had managed to take the lead as we started up from the second floor to their attic bedroom.

"Just get your homework done so we can all three do something later," Dave said, giving his young brother a pat on the butt as we climbed the last few stairs. Monty sat on Dave's bed and moped as we got our swimming suits and towels into a shared duffel bag.

"Guess you're going swimming, huh?"

"Don't know, bro, just want to be prepared.

"Yeah, like good boy scouts."

"Don't knock it, man," I volunteered, "scouts have a lot of fun."

Once out of the house it was decided that we should take mom's car and drive to a road Dave knew which came into the back side of the Montgomery Hall grounds. I didn't say anything, but figured that would bring us to the lake and the old tower. Martin had taken me there but I would wait to see what Dave had in mind before I said anything.

I fished the cell phone out to the glove box and laid it on the console between us. "Remind me to take it with us when we leave the car," I said to Dave as we drove back north a mile or so from their house. At that point Dave directed me to turn east onto one of the busier streets in the quite little town. We went less than a mile and houses gave way to fields and the street became a county road. After the hot summer in Mississippi, fields begin to look green again with winter plantings of soy beans or winter wheat. Further out still bigger fields were still brown with the remains of cotton stocks, their bowls long since harvested. A few cows picked over the sparse growth between the rows.

We came to County Road AA and Dave told me to turn left. We were going north now and after a couple of miles we came into a long stretch with well tended fields on our right and well tended woods on our left, separated from the road by a high sturdy fence. I figured we must be driving along the back of the Montgomery Hall estate.

Sure enough, within a couple of minutes, Dave pointed to a little land on the left. "Turn there," he said, but take it slow." As I pulled off the public road I saw that the old tower was just visible in the distance through the trees. Anyone driving by on the county road we'd come off would not have seen it if they hadn't known to look. We drove a hundred yards through the trees and came to a very secure looking gate, I stopped and Dave jumped out. He reached into the pocket of his cargo shorts and came up with a key.

"Be prepared!" he called to me with a cute grin as he unlocked the gate and swung it open. Once the car was inside, he closed and locked the gate behind us and climbed back into the car next to me. "I have a feeling you've probably been here before."

"Yeah," I admitted, "with Martin."

"I sort of suspected."

"Do you mind that he brought me here first?"

Dave looked down at the floor of the car and said, "well, kind of, but it's okay." I reached over and gave his thigh a pat.

The lane made a slight bend to the left, then back again toward the tower. The bend through the thick trees was just enough to make the tower less visible from the road and I wondered if it had been planned. We pulled up at the base of the tower, the little lake sparkling in the clear September sun a few hundred yards ahead. The dock was in place but the floating platform had been pulled up on the shore. All around us the dogwood and sumac were changing to a brilliant red against the dark green of the tall pines.

"It really is beautiful," I said.

"Yeah," Dave responded, "I love it here."

We got out of the car and pulled off out T-shirts, tossing them in the back seat. As we walked toward the lake, we walked close together, not touching, but almost. I wondered if I should take Dave's hand but didn't quite have the nerve. The air was warm and soft, not the humid heat of the Mississippi summer, much cooler but still warm enough to be exposed to the sun, to feel the soft breeze touching our bodies, to feel so happy with one another, with our shared youth.

I gathered my nerve and took Dave's hand. He turned and smiled, giving my hand a slight squeeze in return. We had only walked on another fifty yards when we were both startled by a sudden rustling in the woods just to our right.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Don't know, but we'd better check," Dave said and pulled away from me to run toward the thick undergrowth.

I was only a few steps behind him as we broke through the first few yards of the thicket and stopped short. Lying in the grass was a young deer, a buck. It was on its side and it couldn't get up. I rushed forward but had no idea what I was going to do. Dave grabbed my arm and stopped me. "No, Tim, we shouldn't touch it. Something's wrong with it and it may be diseased.

"What can we do?"

"Call the grounds office. They'll take care of it."

"We left the phone in the car."

"I was supposed to remind you."

"It's okay. Let's hurry," I said, turning and breaking back through the undergrowth, Dave fast on my heals.

The thought of not doing anything and the beast lying there suffering made me a little sick. I had a feeling Dave felt the same way.

We ran hard, reaching the car in seconds. I reached in and grabbed the phone and handed it to Dave. Within seconds he was talking with someone. As he spoke he kept his eyes locked on my chest but I didn't really think about it. The adrenaline was pumping and I just wanted help to come fast.

"Oh hi, Mace," Dave said, speaking into the phone, "were over by Dolton's Tower and found a deer." He listened and then said, "I don't think it's wounded, at least we didn't see any blood." There was another pause and then he said, "No we didn't touch it but come as fast as you can." As he handed the cell phone back to me I saw that his hand was shaking. "You scratched your chest," he said, nodding toward my right shoulder.

I looked down and saw a scratch ran from just below my shoulder across and down toward the left, over a foot long. Blood had trickled down from it a little but was drying and there didn't seem to be any further flow.

"I didn't even feel it," I said.

"Excitement. You kind of block pain," Dave said, reaching out to run his finger over my chest just above the scratch, pressing a little. Fresh blood oozed a little in a spot or two.

"I've had that happen during football games."

"Yeah, I know."

"I got tackled last year by a really big guy but got up and finished the game. Only later when the coach checked me out did we learn I had three cracked ribs."

"I remember."

"Yeah?"

Dave looked down at the ground between us and said, "I read every story about you in the sport pages."

"Yeah?"

He blushed a little and added, "then I clip then and put them in a scrap book. It's just stuff about you."

"Yeah, Dave, really?"

"Yeah, really," he sort of grinned and I reached out to pull him into a gentle, caring embrace, forgetting completely that I was probably getting my blood on him. We stood there, just embracing, his wonderful body pressed against mine, not kissing, not even holding each other all that tight. I felt his hands move slightly over my back. "You're trembling," he whispered.

"You are, too."

"It's gona be all right."

At that point we heard noise down the lane and knew the guy Dave had called was almost there. We sort of moved apart, not jumping to break from our embrace, just sort of stepping back, maybe a sort of promise of more to come.

The pick-up truck pulled up behind mom's car and we went back toward the lake to show Mace where the deer was lying. He was a handsome black guy, maybe thirty years old, I figured. I saw he had a big pistol in a holster on his right hip. I thought it was a 45 Caliber, like a police or army weapon. I knew what was coming and it sickened me.

"So, Dave, I haven't seen you for two or three years," Mace said as we walked along.

"Yeah, probably," Dave said, then added, "Mace, this is Tim Arnold."

"Hi, Tim," he smiled over at me. "You boys are sure growing up," he added as if he thought he must have known me before. I guess I look enough like the Cutler guys that he figured I was part of the family. "Got yourselves a little bloody," he said, looking at our chests. "I got a first aid kit in the truck."

"It's okay, Mace," Dave said quickly, "we'll just wash off in the lake."

"Suit yourselves, but the water's cold as a nun's bottom this time of year."

We got the place and didn't have to say more. Mace heard the movement in the underbrush and pushed through to take a look. When we had broken through the undergrowth into the little clearing where the deer lay, Mace walked around him appraisingly. Was he a buck or a stag, I wondered, not sure of the proper terms. I thought he would be called a buck. My mind was anxious to fix on something, anything less terrible than the sight before us. As Mace moved around the beast, I saw more closely how beautiful it was. His body rippled with muscle under his magnificent coat and his antlers stood out proudly. He seemed to be a perfect example of young male beauty. "Three year old, I'd say," Mace commented. "See the log there behind him? He probably bolted through the thicket and tripped on it. His right rear leg is busted. It looks bad." I now saw what he meant. The animal's leg was pulled up under him and bent back at an impossible angle.

"How longs he been here like this, Mace."

"Oh, couple of hours at least. Look at his coat. He's exhausted; worked up a heavy sweat trying to get up." I knew what Dave was thinking. He, like me, wondered if we might have spooked the deer, caused him to trip by coming into his world. If Mace was right, we hadn't caused it.

I saw that the deer had been crying, if deer can cry. At least his huge dark eyes had watered and the fur below them was dark and damp. Mace walked around to the buck's head and crouched down. As he did so he loosened the snap on his holster and pulled out the huge pistol.

"You boys go on back . No need for you to see this."

I realized for the first time that Dave's hand was on my arm, squeezing it. He turned, as if to go, but when I didn't move, he waited. I couldn't speak, but shook my head slowly from side to side. No. I thought, I can't go. For some reason I knew I had to see it, had to witness it, for the deer and for me.

"Well, suit yourself," Mace said when we didn't leave. He held the pistol at arm's length, pointed away from us, down into the woods on the far side of the buck, and with his other hand, released the safety. Then he slowly brought the pistol back around until it was pointed at the buck's head, not two feet from him, and shot him one time right between his eyes. The sound of the report shook me. It was much louder than I'd expected. One moment I had been looking at the little place above and between the buck's eyes where his tawny hair swirled into a sort of spiral. The next moment the spiral was gone and a gaping black hole as big around as my little finger replaced it. The animal shook and lay still. Blood pulsed from the  wound in his forehead, once, then again but weaker, then once again, just a little. Then it was over.

"You boys don't touch him. I think he was a healthy one, just had some bad luck, but don't take any chances." Mace sort of shooed us in front of him as we went back through the undergrowth to the lane. "I'm going for help and then we'll move him. Just leave him alone, hear?

He walked quickly away from us, back toward his truck. Neither Dave nor I had spoken but his hand was still on my arm. I reached down with my hand and moved his hand away. He looked shaken and I knew I must look as bad. I turned away from him and took two steps back to the edge of the lane, bent over and vomited. When I finished, I turned back and saw that Dave was just standing where I'd left him. He looked limp and I sure felt as if my own guts had been ripped out. My mouth was full of a rancid sweetness, waffles and sausages and the over-riding taste of orange juice.

"Come on," I said and the sound of my voice pounded in my ears. I realized I hadn't spoken above a whisper, but any sound was now mixed with the continuing roar of the shot. I turned toward the lake and began to run. I didn't wait for Dave and I didn't look back to see if he was coming.

At the end of the dock I stopped and pulled off my shoes and shorts. Then for the first time I turned to look for Dave. He was six feet behind me, already naked, waiting for me to go off the end of the dock so he could follow. I turned toward the water, bent forward and dove into the dark water. As my body slipped beneath it I felt as if my heart really might stop. It was so cold I lost all sense of it as I  took the few strokes which brought me back to the ladder and the sun. As I grasped the side rails of the ladder, I drew a little lake water into my mouth, swished it around and spit it out in a long, arching jet. It helped clear the rank taste from my mouth but didn't completely take it away.

As I pulled myself up, I heard Dave break the surface as he followed me into the frigid lake. With equal speed, he swam back to the ladder and took my hand as I extended it to help him up. When he came up onto the dock, I drew him into an embrace, our naked bodies pressing together, more for comfort than lust. Dave felt cold against me and I ran my hands over his back, rubbing him, stroking him, warming him. The sun at least was warm.

After a few moments we broke apart. "You okay?" Dave asked.

"Yeah. What about you?"

"I'm okay." He backed up a step and reached out to touch my chest. "Most of the blood came off in the water and your scratch doesn't look too bad.

"Yeah, it's off your chest, too." Then turning, I said, "Come on, there should still be some towels in the tower." As soon as I said it I realized I should not have. Dave knew I had been there before with Martin, but I didn't need to rub it in. But if he was hurt by the remark he said nothing. I picked up our shorts and shoes and walked naked toward the land end of the dock.

"You going like that?" Dave called after me.

"What do you mean?"

"Aren't you pulling your shorts and shoes on?"

"I'm wet, man. I want to keep my stuff dry."

"Okay," he said but there was clearly a note of doubt in his voice. We walked across the grassy rise to the tower, still naked, just as Martin and I had done over two months before.

When we got to the tower, Dave stopped and turned to me. "Okay, this is a test. Where's the key." He was smiling and I knew he was over any disappointment he might have felt about not being the first person to bring me here.

I walked over to the door. Beside it was a little wooden plaque which Martin had pointed out to me. I stuck the point of my finger behind it and pulled it open to reveal a niche in the stonework. Hanging in the niche was an old iron key.

"You pass the test, Tim. I guess you really have been here before." I handed him the key and he opened the old plank door. Inside the air felt damp and cool, almost like a cellar. Dave relocked the door behind us and we began to climb. Having done it before, I knew to take it slow. It was along way up. Also, as I was in front, I realized Dave had a very clear view of my butt as we climbed level after level, each marked by a little slit window from which we had a changing perspective of the trees and an increasingly wider view of the vast grounds.

We had just reached the top when we heard the rumble of a truck and Dave said, "that's probably Mace coming back for the deer."

I went to the ledge opposite the point where the stairs came up into the circular room and picked up two of the stack of towels. It didn't look as if anyone had been here since Martin and I had been here in July. The towels smelled a little musty, but they were dry.

Dave was still drying himself when I finished. I stretched out on the circular bed in the center of the room and watched him. My head was propped up on one arm and felt my penis jump as I watched his progress. He was facing away from me and as far as I could tell he had no idea I was watching him. It made me think his actions were completely natural, in no way for my benefit, but the effect was completely erotic. The light was angling in from the narrow slit windows he was facing, back lighting his body, making his golden skin glow and his hair flash like fire. The muscles of his back and legs flexed and relaxed as he moved the towel over them. When he turned and saw me watching him, he blushed. "You're beautiful, Dave, you know that?"

"Dad says all us kids look like the Montgomery side of the family. He says he got his father's looks."

"The Cutler side."

"Yeah."

"Ben said you look like Martin did when he was your age."

`I guess."

"Come here." He slid onto the bed beside me. "You okay?"

"Yeah. It was a real downer finding that deer."

"Did you ever see an animal die before."

"No, never. What about you?"

"I went with my dad when we had our old dog put to sleep last year. I guess that was sort of different, though."

"Isn't that a weird expression?"

"What?"

"Having an animal put to sleep.  I remember when I was just a kid my dad took an old dog to the vet and didn't bring her home.  When I asked about her, he said he'd had her put to sleep.  I guess it's something to tell kids."

"Yeah, so many things like that, just to shield kids from the truth."

"I'd never do that with my own kids."

"The truth and nothing but the truth?"

"Well, sort of.  Grandma says 'put down.'  That's sort of funny, too."

"Yeah, my granddad said that to me about an old horse they had in Indiana and I thought he was talking about making horse pickles.  My grandma was always 'putting down beans,' or 'putting down pickles.'  That really was weird,"  I said, loosing the whole thread of the conversation.

Dave  didn't say anything more, just rolled into me and we embraced.

"Are you thinking we'll do what we did last night," he whispered, his lips close to my ear, his breath warm.

"We can do whatever you want to do."

Dave rolled away from me, onto his back, looking up into the peeked ceiling of the little round room. I waited.

"I sort of want to try doing it to you."

"Yeah?"

"I think so."

"That's great, if you really want, but don't think I expect it."

"No, I don't, think you expect, I mean. I just want to see if I can."

"Well, just come over against me first, let's just hold each other." Dave rolled back against me and I moved a little to get my arms around him. When he started to bring his lips to mine, I moved away.

"Don't," I whispered. "My mouth still tastes awful from throwing up."

"Want some gum?"

"Yeah, I was wishing I had some."

He rolled away from me and went to his shorts, which had been thrown with mine onto the ledge at the top of the stairs. As he dug in his pocket he looked out the windows at the land below and said, "here comes Mace and the truck."

I rolled off the bed and stood beside him. Far below we saw the truck moving toward the gate and the public road beyond. In the back of the pick-up an rounded form was covered by a dark green tarpaulin. We knew it was the deer.

Dave handed me the pack of gum. I took a piece, handed it back to him and he did the same. We both just stood there chewing and looking down as the truck reached the gate. A guy got out and opened it. It didn't look like Mace. This was a shorter, heavier black guy wearing overalls. The truck pulled through, the gate was shut and locked. The guy got back in the passenger side of the truck and they were gone. I heard Dave sigh and reached out to pull him to me. We just stood there for a few more minutes.

"Did the gum help?" Dave asked after a few minutes.

"Yeah, I think it did," I said as we turned and lay back down on the bed.

I just held Dave against me for a while and then he again rose up and brought his lips to mine. This time I didn't try to stop him. We kissed lightly, our lips just pressed together a little. Then Dave's tongue began to trace along my lips, seeking entry.

"Wait a minute," I said as I turned away from him and removed the gum. I held it for a second, not knowing where to put it. Dave grinned and took it from me, then added his own and put the two bits on a little plate behind my head on the ledge. I wondered if it was an ashtray, but wasn't sure.  I sort of wondered who came here who smoked.

But, rid of the gum, I was a little surprised that Dave didn't immediately return to continue our kiss. Instead, he just slid down a little and put his head on my chest. "I love being with you like this," he whispered.

"Me too," I whispered back. After several minutes I added, "in fact, Dave, if we don't do anything more than this it's fine with me."

"No, I want to try," he said, rising up a little to look into my eyes. His full weight was on me now and he leaned his head down and kissed my chest, then slowly ran his tongue over the length of my scratch.  It stung as he licked it and as he came up, I saw there was a unnatural redness to the tip of his tongue.  "You've bled a little more,"  he said.

"You licked my blood away?"

"Yeah."

"You shouldn't do that."

"Why not?"

"I don't know, but I don't think you should,"  I said, not coming up with reasonable answer, but instinctively knowing it was dangerous.

"Well, it's done,"  Dave said, giving me strange little smile, his eyes half closed and an almost pout on his beautiful lips. "More of you in me," he added at last, looking off into the shadows as if he was someplace else.

"You want to become a vampire or something?"

"Yeah,"  he grinned as he came back to the moment and looked down, his eyes fixing on mine. "I want to feed on you."

With no further words, he lowered his lips to my left nipple. He'd never done that before, either, and it sent a jolt of arousal to my cock. Then the kiss became a sort of sucking action and I felt my nipple and my cock quickly harden in response.  Our cocks were trapped between us and even the slightest move either of us made was enough to bring me closer to climax. Why was I so keyed up? I wondered.

"Where'd you learn that?" I asked.

"Didn't learn it, just seemed like a natural thing to do."

"Yeah," I growled.

He pulled off and asked, "you mean `yeah,' natural, or `yeah' keep it up?"

"If you keep it up, I'll come."

"No, don't do that `till I have your cock in my mouth."

"You're really sure?"

"Absolutely."

He slid down as I spread my legs so he had more room. He knelt between them and bent forward again to grasp my twitching cock. He looked up at me, a little uncertain.

"Just kiss it a little, Dave. Maybe lick it. Don't try take it in your mouth yet."

"How close are you?"

"I'm okay for a little."

"I don't want you to come until I have you in my mouth, please, Tim."

"I'll tell you if I'm getting too close." He bent forward and pressed his lips against the wet head of my cock, holding the shaft tightly just below the head, not letting it move at all. I felt a wave of dizziness and couldn't figure what was going on. "Loosen up a little, please," I said and felt his grasp relax a little; his hand stayed in place, just below the head. His tongue came out and moved over the eye of my cock, mixing his saliva with my fluids. Then his lips opened and pressed down over the head, just to where his hand stopped his progress. Smart move, I thought, small steps.

Dave pulled off and looked up at me smiling. He stroked my wet shaft with his loose hand, felt it pulse, looked at me again. "I'm okay, close, but okay," I said. He grasped my shaft about an inch below the head and settled to work again, licking, kissing, enclosing. His tongue swirled over me and I gasped. The boy was good, very good. It wouldn't be long before he'd be teaching me.

His lips circled the shaft just below the head, closing tightly around it and moved slowly down. Again, the ring formed by his fingers stopped his progress, but this time, he stayed in place, sucking, licking and I felt his hand move down a little more, giving him access to more of the length of my shaft. Again, he bobbed a little, up to the tip, then back down, up and down again. Half my cock was in his mouth now and I could feel it hitting the back, wanting access to his throat. He stayed were he was, sucking, loving me, getting used to the fullness in his mouth. Then his hand moved again, half an inch, a full inch, and again he moved down. I knew he was in trouble before he'd figured it out. As the head of my cock pressed against the opening to his throat, his shoulders stiffened and he gagged. It was just one gag, but a powerful one. As he quickly pulled off, I saw there were tears filling is eyes and threatening to run down over his cheeks.

"Easy, lover," I whispered, pulling him up to me. His cheek was against my chest and I could feel his tears.

"I want it all," he whispered and I knew he was having trouble even forming words.

"It'll happen, but take your time."

"I want to try again.'

"Rest a little, if it doesn't happen this time, it will real soon." He groaned a little but seemed to accept my advice. "Come here," I whispered, pulling him up to me. He lay on me with his full weight, his lips finding mine.

Just before our lips met he whispered, "you called me `lover.'"

"Yep."

He settled into a long kiss and my legs and arms found their way around him. It was becoming our position. Slowly Dave began to rock against me and I felt our hard, wet cocks moving into happy union as they were raked back and forth between our hard groins. "We keep this up, I'll come."

"Me too," he whispered.

"That's okay?"

"Yeah, I loved it when we lay together like this last night. I wanted to see what it would be like being on top of you this time."

"Um, the boy's getting dominant."

"Yeah," he grinned "but both ways are great."

"That's what I think, too," I responded, beginning to nibble his ear. I don't know if that's what put him over the edge, but his humping against me became faster, frantic. I held him to me, locking his body against me with my legs and arms as I tried to move against him as best I could.

"Oh, Tim," he groaned.

"Yes."

We seemed to explode together, our seed jolting out to mix in the tight space between our bodies, our chests still pounding as we slowly came down. I sort of thought I'd swooned, gone off into some nether world beyond conscious reality. Drums were pounding, bells were ringing. Yes, I thought, this is how it's supposed to be.

"Tim, your cell," Dave said as he rolled off of me.

"My mom's cell," I corrected, not knowing why it mattered.

Dave rummaged in the pocket of my shorts and came up with it, tossed it over and sat back down.

"Hello," I managed to say without gasping for breath.

"Hey, Tim, where are you guys? What are you two up to? You gona come home for lunch?" Three questions without a pause. Obviously, it was Monty.

"About five miles from you," I began, "just messing around, What time is it?"

"Noon. You guys want sandwiches here? I finished my homework and want to come along after lunch."

I looked at Dave, who'd heard a little and figured the rest. "Tell him to eat there. We'll get a burger and pick him up in an hour."

To be continued