Copyright © 2003

By Lee Mariner

The author's copyright and all provisions of the original disclaimer remain in force.  All Rights are reserved.

This story depicts homosexual acts and it is intended for ADULT READERS ONLY.  If you are not of legal age in your locality or should you not approve of such material, please leave.

My friend, Dean has edited this work and his invaluable assistance is greatly appreciated.

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Life is what you make of it, not what others make of it for you


Chapter #22

We had just pulled into the parking space by the stairs leading up to the garage apartment when Mom called out to us from the side doorway.  "We weren't expecting you home this early; would you care to have supper with us, I've fixed plenty?"

I glanced quickly at Derek; and, when he nodded his head affirmatively, I called back asking, "What time, Mom?"

"We should be ready to eat in about an hour," she answered, continuing,  "That should give you plenty of time to clean up. I hope Derek likes pork loin, sauerkraut and mashed potatoes?"

"I love it, Aunt Edith," Derek called back from where he was hiding behind the front of the truck.

"Good, I'll have the table set by the time you get here."

As we raced up the stairs before she could say anything more, I said, "I thought you told me that, you didn't like sauerkraut."

"I'm not crazy about it; but, it looks like I'll have to acquire a taste for it," He said as I opened the door, and he brushed by me.

Derek dropped the newspaper on the small table in the kitchen and collapsed on the couch with his arms and legs splayed, his head resting on the back.  Grinning and remembering the morning, I stood over him and said, "You must have a fondness for the couch, you headed right for it."

"Now...," he said, lifting his head and looking up at me with a twinkle in his eyes. "Who's getting horny?"

"You don't have to be on a couch for me to get horny," I said, moving between his legs and bending down to unbuckle his belt.

"Oh..., and what are you doing now?" he asked, his fantastically blue eyes glistening. 

The bulge in his trousers was starting to swell, and I saw his eyes shift downward to see whether my cock was responding, which it was.  He started pulling his shirt from his waist-band, and he looked up at me, smiling.   My fingers trembled from the excitement that was building between us, and it took an effort not to rip his trousers and briefs off of him; but I restrained myself, answering in a husky tone, "What you started when you spread out on the couch."

"Your mother said we had an hour," he said softly as he removed his shirt trying to entice me with the golden magnificence of his gorgeously muscled chest.

"I know she did, but that gives us only enough time to shower and change clothes,"  I replied, breathing heavily, my hard cock aching from being confined in my briefs.

"That's more than enough time," he replied huskily as he wadded his shirt in a ball.

His chest was rising and falling rapidly as he breathed; and, throwing his shirt to the other end of the couch, he hooked his thumbs between his hips and the waist-band of his soaked briefs and trousers as I unzipped his fly.  Leaning against the back of the couch and lifting his hips, he pushed his clothes downward, slowly revealing the golden trail of sperm soaked hair and then the crown of his cock.  Dropping down on one knee, I pulled his shoes off and got a grip on the cuffs of his trousers to pull them off.  He lifted his legs as I was removing his trousers and pushed his briefs down to his ankles.  Kicking them off to one side, he dropped his legs stretching them out on either side of me, his hard cock lying on his hard flat stomach.   Looking down the length of his beautifully muscled body at me still kneeling in front of him, he moved his hands down over his muscled ripped stomach until his fingers touched the base of his thick cock.  Smiling softly, he pushed and I watched, mesmerized by the beauty of his magnificently tapered cock rising like a glistening golden scepter, waving teasingly, beckoning to me.   

I forgot about the passage of time as I gazed at the beauty stretched out before me. I could feel the sweat of passion running down over my ribs and back; and, my ears were filled with the sound of my pounding heart.   Crawling closer, I lowered my head, opening my mouth to take him, when he suddenly let his cock drop back onto his stomach.  Extending his smoothly muscled arms, his brilliantly blue eyes gleaming, he whispered in a guttural tone, "Stand up and strip for me, Larry."

As I stood, and was pulling my shirt over my head, he sat up; and I felt his fingers fumbling with my belt buckle.  Throwing the shirt to where his was lying on the couch, I finished what he had been attempting to do as I, indiscriminately, kicked my shoes off. The atmosphere became almost surreal as, while I was removing my trousers, he leaned against the back of the couch and arched his back stretching like a tawny cat.  His blue eyes changed to a deep indigo as he watched me undress, and he flexed teasing me, his hard muscles rippling beneath smooth, unblemished skin

"God, D, " I said softly, as I stood over him. "You are so beautiful; it's hard for me to believe you're mine."

"Believe it, Lover. I belong to you, and you are all mine. There is nothing that will change that," he said as he stood up and took me in his arms, drawing me tightly to him. 

Our lips met in a tongue devouring kiss; and our steel hard cocks, trapped between us, fought a duel as we ground them together.   Every muscle in my body tensed with excitement; and I felt the fires of desire sweeping upwards engulfing us in a cocoon of lust, pre-cum oozing from throbbing cocks.  I twisted out of his encircling arms and pulled him toward the couch; but he resisted, pulling me down onto the floor with him.  Reversing positions,  we devoured the drooling shafts that would erupt and flow with the life giving aphrodisiac we both craved. 

Euphoric waves of contentment flowed over us as we sucked hardening cocks, drawing the nectar from churning testicles.  Derek moaned, hugging me tightly, and hesitated for just a moment before driving his thick swelling cock deep into my throat and releasing his seed. I swallowed greedily as he thrust his erupting cock deep in the recesses of my throat.  The muscles of my throat gripped his steel hard cock as streams of his sperm flowed with each spasm; and I could hear him, no, feel him moaning softly as I sucked, drawing the juice from his tightening testicles. 

An intense feeling of ecstasy rushed through the length of my swelling cock as I felt his cock starting to soften. Gripping his cock with my lips, I increased the tempo of my driving hips to meet the demanding need of his sucking mouth; and I felt his fingers sliding down the crack of my ass.  Without warning, one finger pressed against the rosebud of my anus and entered sending an electrifying shock coursing through my testicles and up through my hardening cock.  I released his wilting cock, growling, as my seed erupted with volcanic force sending thick streams cascading down into the depths of his stomach. With each spasm, my muscles tightened as waves of ecstasy swept over me. Hugging him tightly to me, I took his still half-hard cock in my mouth and sucked, stripping and draining the last dregs of his sperm. 

When each of us had drained the last remnants of the sweet nectar from the other's wilting and sensitive cock, we sighed contentedly and, rolling onto our backs, held hands.  I was enjoying the feel of his strong hand in mine when he said, softly, "Larry, we better get a move on before we use up the hour that your Mother said we had before supper would be ready."

"Oh, shit!" I exclaimed, sitting up.  "I got so hot thinking about making love to you that I'd completely forgotten the time."

"That makes two of us, Lover," he said sitting up and nuzzling my nose with his before standing up, his still half-hard cock waving gently. "We'll still have plenty of time, but we better get started."

His magnificently proportioned body glistened from the slight sheen of sweat created by our love making.  Thoughts about the perfection of Michelangelo's David rushed into my mind; and feelings for Derek, that were inexplicable, swelled in my breast as he stood, smiling down at me, his now azure blue eyes gleaming with the same feelings. 

"Are you going to waste time sitting on the floor, or are we going to dress without showering?"  he said, offering both hands to help me up.

After he helped me up, I put my arms around his waist, saying, "Admiring you is not a waste of time, Derek.  I just can't get over how gorgeous you are."

Smiling softly, his eyes still gleaming, he put his arms around my shoulders and, nibbling on my ear,  whispered, "You haven't looked in a mirror lately, have you?  You, Lover; are as gorgeous as I'll ever be, and that is only a small part of why I love you."

"What is the other part?" I asked playfully as we disengaged.

"Think about it, and I bet you know what it is," he answered, turning toward the bedroom door and the bathroom.


Showering was always an almost erotic experience, because washing and exploring the nooks and crannies that we had already found excited both of us.  It was becoming almost a ritual that we both enjoyed, and the inevitable erections were a foregone conclusion that eventually led to love making.   This time, though, we both were sufficiently sated that mutual hardons were play things, and no thoughts of sex preempted the lack of time.

After drying each other off, we dressed quickly in washed-out jeans and simple white pullovers with sandals.  Crossing the small space between the garage and side door of the house, we entered and saw Dad sitting at the table with his inevitable newspaper. Mom was setting steaming bowls of pork and sauerkraut on the table, and she looked up as we entered, saying, " You are just in time, everything is ready."

"Mmmmmmmmm," Derek said, rubbing his stomach and smacked his lips as we moved toward the table to sit down,  "It surely smells good, Aunt Edith."

"I hope both of you are hungry," she replied, glancing at us.  "I fixed enough for an army."

"You always do, Mother" Dad replied matter-of-factly and, without looking over his newspaper, said, "She said that she didn't think you boys would be having supper with us tonight, but that didn't stop her; we could feed an army any night of the week."

"Now, you just hush, Christopher," Mother replied from the stove where she was filling a bowl with mashed potatoes while Derek gave me a quizzical look of surprise.  He then looked back at Mother who had not finished talking.  "They are two growing boys, and they need to eat."

"Growing boys become grown men, Mother," Dad said accentuating the word men, giving us a wink as he folded his newspaper and placed it on the floor beside his chair.

"Oh, posh, that's all the more reason they should eat," she answered, setting the potatoes on the table as Derek and I sat down.  "Milk for the both of you?" she asked without really asking since in her mind it was a foregone conclusion that boys drank milk.

"We men will have coffee later on the front porch," Dad said, grinning impishly at us and then glancing at Mother, waiting for a response.
She knew that Dad was teasing her, and she didn't give a response except for  a withering glance as she sat down across from him and reached for our hands.  Dad did the same and offered the blessing a little differently from what he had in the past, ending it with, "and, Oh Lord, for giving us these two fine young men we sincerely thank you, Amen."  I felt Mom and Dad squeeze my hand; and, looking across the table, I saw a hint of moisture in his eyes.

True to his praise of Mom's cooking, Derek did it justice, surprising me when he had a sizable portion of sauerkraut; and Mom beamed at Dad visually gloating as Derek ate.  I did a fair job of eating myself; and, since this meal had always been one of Paul's favorites, I waited for Mom to say something.  She didn't disappoint me, mentioning Paul when we were almost finished. 

"Now then," she said as she smoothed her apron. "If Paul were here, everything would be perfect.  Don't you think, Christopher?"

"Mother...," Dad said softly, looking at her, and glancing at Derek and me.

"Oh, I know, I know. I just can't help thinking of him whenever I fix this meal," She said as she dabbed the corners of her eyes and reached for Derek's hand. "It was his favorite."

"I can understand why, Aunt Edith; it was delicious," he answered, placing his other hand over hers.  "I only wish, that I could have known him."

"You do, Derek," Dad injected quietly.  "Larry is as alike him as any two brothers can be,"  Dad said, looking at me a little misty eyed.

Silence fell over the table for a few minutes while each struggled with his own thoughts, and I had a lump as big as a goose egg in my throat.   Derek must have been feeling the same way; and, opening his mouth, he started to say something; but I cut him off before he could.

"Supper was delicious, Mom," I said, scooting my chair back.  "Instead of coffee, would you mind if Dad, Derek and I went to Kelley's for a beer?"

"Of course not," she answered breathing in deeply and sliding her chair back from the table.  "I've got the dishes to wash and the kitchen to clean; and, I don't need the three of you underfoot.  Besides, it will do you good to get out for a spell, take a long walk, or do what ever it is men do when women aren't around."


Kelley's was the neighborhood's only bar; and, like most small isolated neighborhood bars, it was where men gathered to talk sports and, not unlike women, exchange risqué gossip or a few ribald stories.  After Mom has shooed us out of her kitchen, Dad started to walk toward his car until I spoke up.

"Dad, why don't we walk?  It's only three blocks, and a little walk will help settle supper," I said, placing my hand on Derek's forearm.

"That sounds good to me, Son," he answered, redirecting his footsteps.   "Your mother's sauerkraut is sitting pretty heavy in the middle of my gut, a little heartburn, I think."

"Is Mr. Gilman still running the place?"  I asked as Derek and I fell in-step on either side of him.

"Charlie, Charlie Gilman?  I believe he still is, but I can't be sure of that.  I've only dropped in a couple of times since..., Paul died...."  Dad answered, his voice trailing off.

We had walked another half block in silence when Dad suddenly threw his arms around our shoulders exclaiming, "Hey, Fellas, we aren't going to Kelley's for a wake; so what say we leave the gloomy stuff at home?"

"Yes, Sir," We both answered together.


The name of the bar was emblazoned in bright green neon tubing across the front of the building, and two large neon signs, one blue and one red, advertising Pabst Blue Ribbon and Budweiser Beer, hung in each of the large single windows on either side of the entrance.  The interior hadn't changed from the last time I had been there and probably hadn't changed since it opened right after World War II.  On the left was a bar running almost the entire length of the building and a high mirrored back bar.  The dark well worn wooden floor showed the burnt marks of a few thousand ignorantly discarded cigarettes, and there were several wooden tables with chairs down the middle of the room.  Two sections of booths were on the right side with a row of transom windows above them.  An ancient Wurlitzer record player separated the booths. At the back of the room there were two dart boards on the wall and two doors, one on each side of the dart boards, with signs on them indicating the appropriate word, "guys" or "gals."

The distinctive odor of stale beer, cigarettes and fried food assailed our nostrils as we walked in.  Several men, whom I didn't recognize were sitting at the bar and turned to look in our direction as we walked in.  Squinting my eyes, I tried looking through the blue cigarette haze to see whether Charlie Gilman was behind the bar; but I couldn't see anyone.

"Dad," I said as we sat down in one of the booths.  "I don't see Charlie."

Dad turned; looking in the same direction, I had before saying, "If he's here, Larry, he's probably in the kitchen or getting something for the bar.  Remember, I said that I haven't been here for awhile."

"It's the first time I've ever been in a bar."  Derek said.

"You've never been in a bar, Derek?"  Dad asked , twisting sideways to look at him with a surprised look.

"No, Sir, my father never went to any bars that I know of," he answered with a chagrined look. .

"I bet they went to cocktail parties and cocktail lounges; didn't they, D?"  I said teasingly.

"Oh, yeah, they both did almost all of the time,"  he replied, just as a voice boomed from across the room.

"Chris, Chris Marks. Is that you?"

Dad looked up; surprised at hearing his name called out, and we turned to see a very large man wearing an apron making his way through the tables in the direction of our booth.
"Christ, Man, it's been ages,"  he said, reaching for Dad's hand.

"It's been awhile, Charlie,"   Dad replied, smiling as they shook hands and asked.  "How have you been?"

"Putting on a pound or two as you can see," he guffawed loudly, pounding his huge belly. "You look in good shape; been working out?"

"Not really working out, Charlie;  but I manage to get a run in each morning before work and watch the diet.  I'm afraid Edith is not much help there though," he answered glancing at Derek and me with a grin.

"Edith, I haven't seen her since...," Charlie hesitated, glanced at us and then said, "How is she, Chris?"

"Good, Charlie, real good.  I'll tell her you asked about her.  Do you think we might be able to get a couple of beers, Blue Ribbon," he replied, quickly changing the subject.

"Could I have a ginger ale, Uncle Chris?"  Derek asked, quickly.

"Uncle?  Is this young man your nephew, Chris?"  Charlie exclaimed, looking down at Derek. 

"No, he isn't; Charlie, he's Larry's friend and ours.  Derek is staying with us until they go to college next fall," Dad answered. "Derek, this is Charlie Gilman, owner/operator of  Kelley's.  Charlie, Derek Kingsley."

"It's good meeting you, Boy," Charlie bellowed loudly, reaching across the table to where Derek was sitting in the corner of the booth and vigorously shaking his hand.  "These are fine people you're with."

"Nice meeting you, Sir; and I agree with you that they are fine people," Derek answered.

I saw his eyes flicker briefly at being addressed as "boy"; and his words with Eddie Carper flashed through my head, worrying me for a brief moment until I saw the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"I'll bring them beers and a ginger ale right over, Chris," Charlie said, looking at me as he as he started to leave.   "Larry, Boy, don't think I was ignoring you; but your old man and me haven't seen each other in many moons."

It was my turn to tense up as I shook hands with Charlie, and I saw Derek grinning with a twinkle in his eyes.


"Well now, what did you boys do after we left you at the station?" Dad said after the drinks had been delivered and we had taken a sip. 

Derek and I glanced at each other grinning at Dad's calling us "boys," but it didn't sound the same from him as it would have coming from a stranger.  On several occasions, when someone referred to me as a boy, I had the urge to tell the ignorant asshole, "bend over, and I'll show you what a boy can do;" and I knew from Derek's reactions that he felt the same way.

"Morgan came out after you and Mom left.  We talked with him for a few minutes.  Did you know he is graduating high school next week?" I said, answering him.

"I think he mentioned it, why?"

"He got all excited when I asked him if he were, and he asked if we would be there.  Have you thought about going?" I replied, glancing at Derek who was quietly sipping his drink and listening.

"Nooooo, I haven't thought about it," Dad answered, looking at me intently for a second before continuing.  "But it would probably make him feel good if we did. I doubt anyone from his family will be there."

"I got that impression from the way he reacted when Larry told him we would be there, Uncle Chris," Derek said, quietly.

"You boys are going to Morgan's graduation?" Dad exclaimed, glancing between the two of us.  "Aren't Merrimac students graduating the same day as the public schools?"

"Yes, we do; but the public school ceremonies are in the afternoon at the civic center.  Ours are at eight o'clock in the evening on campus, and they are held out of doors," he said, twirling his glass and taking a deep breath before continuing.  "I suggested to Larry that we could attend Morgan's in the afternoon, and mine later that evening.  I think what he is hinting at is that you and Aunt Edith could join us if you would care to."

"Yeah," I said excitedly.  "It would be great if you and Mom went with us, and I know Morgan would be tickled pink if we all showed up."

We sat silently while Dad took a pull on his beer. When he sat the bottle down, I saw a twinkle in his eyes; and I knew what his answer would be before he said it.

"It looks like you two have thought things out pretty well," he said, smiling.  "I don't see any reason we can't, but I'll have to ask your Mother first."

"I know she will agree, Dad; I just know it."

"Then you must know your Mother better than I do, but you're probably right as she is so excited about attending Derek's graduation," Dad said, looking at him and still smiling as he took another drink.

Looking at Derek, I knew the reason for her excitement.  She had attended a funeral instead of Paul's graduation, but going to Derek's would erase some of that pain, and that gave me another reason for loving him.  Derek, even though he didn't know it and for which I would be eternally grateful, was filling a gap that had been missing in Mom's life since my brother had died so unexpectedly.

Charlie brought another round while we were talking, and Dad looked up at him as he set the drinks on the table.  "On the house, Chris, for old times sake," he said, winking at him.

"Thanks, Charlie," he answered.  "I appreciate it but you really don't have to do that."

"I know that, but it's good for business," he replied, looking over his shoulder at someone rapping an empty bottle on the bar; and, growling under his breath, he said, "I'm going to throw that sucker out of here if he keeps on doing that. He must think that I'm his personal servant."

"I have that problem at the station sometimes, Charlie, except, they blow their horns." Dad said as Charlie left still grumbling.

"People are all the same whether it's gasoline or beer, impatient," Dad said to no one in particular as he lifted the fresh bottle to his lips.

We sat silent for a moment, and I was pushing the empty bottles and Derek's glass off to the side of the table when Derek dropped an unexpected bombshell.

'Uncle Chris," he started, glancing at me. "Would it be all right with you if we remodeled the apartment?  Nothing really drastic but, with the two of us living there, it would be a little more comfortable if it were arranged a little differently."

My eyes widened, and I think it caught Dad by surprise as well.  He hesitated with his bottle half-way up to his lips, and then took a drink before answering.

"Remodel the apartment?" he said, looking at me.  "Just what do you have in mind, Son."

Derek glanced at me anxiously before replying.  "Like I said, Sir, we wouldn't do anything drastic; but the bathroom is small, and there aren't enough closets. Maybe the kitchen and living room could be changed with a wall separating them.  We wouldn't do anything before going over any changes with an architect and having him draw up the plans.  You and Aunt Edith would have the final say before anything would be done."

"What do you think about it, Larry?" Dad asked, looking at me.

"We've talked about it Dad; and we knew we would have to talk with you and Mom before we did anything," I replied.  "It is kind of small for two people, and a few changes would make it more comfortable; but, like D said, it's up to you and Mom."

The inevitable silence that follows such and exchange fell over us as Derek and I anxiously waited for Dad's response.  I knew he was thinking about what Derek had said, and there was a somber look on his face that worried me. Looking at Derek, I raised my eyebrows showing my concern; and then Dad spoke softly.

"Derek, I don't like sounding crass about money; but I'm not sure we would be able to afford a complete renovation such as you and Larry are thinking about.  Hiring an architect can be expensive in and of itself even before taking into consideration the overall cost of a contractor and materials."

My heart sank, and I just knew Dad was going to refuse; but I hadn't taken into consideration the tenacity of Derek's character, or just how persuasive and logical he could be. Looking at Derek, I saw a glint in his eyes over the rim of his glass.  "You devil," I thought to myself.  "You planned this even though we had talked about houses and apartments."

The smile on his face as he set his glass down and what he said confirmed my suspicions.

"You're right about the expense, Uncle Chris; but you wouldn't have to make the investment as my trust would cover the cost," he said, glancing at me and continuing just as Dad was about to speak.  "Before you object, Uncle Chris, look at it this way.  The money is in the trust; and yesterday Mr. Masters told me that I could use it for anything we wanted, within reason."

"We?" Dad interrupted raising his eyebrows.

"Yes, Sir, we; Larry and I," Derek answered.  "Whatever I have, is as much Larry's as it is mine," he said; hesitating for a moment, and glancing at me before continuing.  "What we have; even though my part may be larger, is ours together; and having a place to live is within reason."

"Wouldn't your father have something to say about  it?" Dad asked just as Charlie walked up and interrupted..

"Are you boys gonna have another drink?" He asked, using the all inclusive term "boys" as many men do when addressing two or more men.

"I don't know about Larry and Derek, Charlie; but I'd like a cup of coffee if you have it."

"I'll have another ginger ale, Mr. Gilman," Derek replied, and I said, "Me too."

"Give me a minute to make a fresh pot, Chris,"  Charlie said over his shoulder as he left.

We waited until Charlie was out of ear shot before Derek responded to Dad's query about his father.

"My father lost his conservator's rights when, I turned eighteen, Uncle Chris.  He neglected to tell me about the conditions my grandmother had made when she set it up, and he may never have, but that is why Mr. Masters called me. That's one reason we are going to see Mr. Winters tomorrow and have it all converted into my name. My father won't have any control over the trust after that is done.  The bank will remain trustee until all of the conditions of grandmother's will are met; but, my father is excluded. He can't even touch the allowance that is allowed for my use under the bank's supervision."  he said, finishing just as Dad's coffee and our drinks were brought.

When Charlie left, we took a sip of our drinks; and, as Dad set his coffee mug down, he looked up grinning,  "Good coffee, almost as good as Mother's, but don't tell her I said it," he said smiling broadly and continuing.  "I don't know this Masters fellow, Derek, but I do know Merrill Winters.  If what you say you want is possible, he will know what to do.  As for fixing the apartment up, I'll have to talk with your mother first.  She probably won't object; but, if we don't ask her, she might get a little testy about us men folks cooking something up and leaving her out."

"What if we talked to her first, Dad?" I said, glancing at Derek, seeing the excitement in his eyes.

"Good Lord, no!!" He exclaimed, leaning against the back of the booth.  "If both of you start on her, she'll wind up letting you remodel the whole damned house," he said, surprising me with his use of a rare expletive.

"Would that be so bad, Uncle Chris?  There might be a few things you and she would like changed that could be done at the same time as the apartment,"  Derek said, surprising me and Dad.

Dad and I looked at each other, and then, he placed his hand over Derek's. "I know you are sincere in saying that, Derek; and I appreciate it, but I can't let you do that. Now then, I've got to use the men's room so, if you will excuse me;" he said, pushing his almost empty coffee mug away as he slid out of the booth,  "I'll be right back."

Turning my head to watch him as he walked away, I felt Derek's hand squeeze my thigh as he said, "You don't think I upset him, do you, Larry?"

"No," I said, twisting around to look at him.  "You didn't upset him, but you surely caught both of us by surprise.  I had no idea you were thinking about anything like that, but, I know he appreciates the offer."

"When we were talking about the architect, that's when it crossed my mind.  The bedrooms are small, and I'm sure Aunt Edith would like a newer kitchen.  It could all be done at the same time, and I'd love to do it for them after all they have done for me. I hope he didn't think I was being uppity or something like that," he said wistfully, squeezing my leg tighter.

Reaching under the table, I placed my hand over his, squeezing and saying, "He doesn't, Babe, so get it out of your head, please."

"I hope you're right," He replied, with a sad look in his eyes. "I would really hate for either one of them to get mad at me," He said, glancing over my shoulder and removing his hand from under mine just as Dad spoke as he walked up.

"If neither one of you needs to use the men's room, we had better be getting home."

Derek nodded his head negatively as I twisted around and said,  "We're okay, Dad, lets go."

Dad turned toward the bar calling out, "We'll be seeing you, Charlie, thanks for everything," as we slid out of the booth.

"Hey, Chris, anytime.  You and the boys come back soon," Charlie boomed out across the room.

"Damn, Larry, there he goes calling us 'boys' again," Derek said softly, not thinking Dad could hear him.

"Older men, call younger men 'boys', Son," he said grinning.  "It's not meant to be derogatory about age although as men grow older," he mused almost to himself as we went outside. "I think all men are inclined to think of those younger than themselves as boys even though they aren't really youngsters. You aren't actually my 'son', but every now and then I use the term because it feels like you are, and why not, you are a part of the family now."

Leaning back a little, Derek and I looked at each other.  He was smiling, and his eyes were glistening.  I winked back at him; as we slid out of the booth, a warm feeling of pride in both my Dad and Derek welling up in my chest.


The house was dark except for a light in the kitchen window and the upstairs windows that was Mom and Dad's bedroom.

"It looks like your Mother has gone on to bed.  Like as not she is reading her bible or the Reader's Digest," Dad said as we walked up the moonlit driveway.  "Remember now, not a word about what we talked about until I've had first crack at her."

"Do you think she will go along with it, Dad?" I asked quietly as we reached the midway point between the house and the garage.

Turning and looking at me, I saw an almost lascivious gleam in his eyes as he whispered, "I think, I might be able to influence her a little, Son," he said smiling and glancing at both of us before turning and walking toward the house. 

Derek and I stood watching him as he moved away, slightly perplexed until a light lit in my head and I grinned.  Taking Derek's arm in mine and starting toward the stairway, I said in a seductive tone, "I'm sure he does, Lover, I'm sure he does."

Laying his head against mine and squeezing my arm tightly as we walked, he asked softly, "As much as you have with me?"

"We'll see who has what," I said, feeling the excitement building in my loins as we entered the dark apartment, lit only by silver moonlight.
Kicking our shoes off and with clothing falling on the floor, we went into the bedroom removing our jeans and kicking them aside. Turning to face each other, hard cocks waved in the dim light, we melted into each others arms, crushing our lips together.   After what seemed only a second, Derek pulled his head back; he was breathing as heavily as I was, and I felt the slick pre-cum oozing, mixing between as as our cocks slid from side to side rolling and dueling.  As I moved my hands downward over the smooth muscles of his back to his firm cheeks, he whispered huskily, "Make love to me."

Throwing the blankets back, we slid across the bed.  Derek slid one arm underneath me; and I felt the power in his arm as he flexed, pulling me on top of him and clasping me tightly with both arms. Sliding my hands and arms under his shoulders, I hovered over him gazing down into the bottomless depths of two vividly blue wells that gleamed with lust and love.  The scarlet tip of his tongue glistened as he wet his lips, saying, "Fuck me, Larry."

"Let me get the lubricant," I said, freeing one arm from under him and reaching toward the night table.

"No lube," he growled softly, squeezing me tighter.  "The pre-cum is all we need; I want to feel you driving your beautiful cock up my ass."

I pulled my legs up as he let his legs splay wide so I could kneel between them and fill my hand with slick emissions from both of us.  He lay watching me, his eyes gleaming and his golden chest rising and falling rapidly as he breathed.  When  I started to put my arms under his legs, he gripped my forearms, his abdominal muscles rippling as he lifted his legs up on my shoulders.  The excitement of wanting him had me shaking so badly that I missed my first attempt at placing my cock against his anal entrance.  When I leaned my head back and breathed in deeply trying to settle down, I felt his hand pulling, guiding my cock; and I leaned forward letting my weight push my throbbing cock against his anus.  I hesitated for a moment and then leaning further forward, I felt the head slipping in when he dropped his legs, clamping them around my waist and pushing downward, he growled, "Fuck me; drive it in."

With the added pressure of his legs and my weight, I felt my cock sliding inexorably into the raging hot depths of his ass until I felt my pubic hair pushing his balls up to the base of his quivering cock.  A wave of excruciating ecstasy flowed over me as Derek writhed beneath me; and I thought he was in pain from such an intrusive entry until he groaned softly, uttering, "Oh yessssssss, that's what I want."

Sweat was pouring from both of us; and his hips rose to meet each plunge of my cock forcing it further into the depths of his bowels.  The rhythm between us and the intense passions of mutual love drove us to reach the awesome cataclysmic eruption that would drain the life from our loins.   We both were breathing and moaning like bulls in rut when I felt a raging fire of sperm driving upwards from my balls erupting with such force that I cried out, " Oh God, Derek."   Waves of intense ecstasy flowed over me as my cock spewed thick streams of sperm into the depths of his bowels with such force that I collapsed on top of him as his cock shot stream after stream of his sperm over his chest and stomach.

We held each other tightly while our pulsing cocks pumped life giving sperm from tightening ball sacs.  Derek was cooing in my ear as our rigid muscles relaxed and my wilting cock slipped slowly from his ass even though he was gripping it as tightly as he could with his sphincter to prevent its leaving.  He quivered when my cock slipped out of his ass; and, turning his head, he looked into my eyes murmuring softly, "I love you."

Pressing my lips to his, he knew how I felt without my saying it.  We kissed tenderly while I stroked the side of his head, the afterglow of contentment engulfing us.

We both lay together with his arms still tightly around my chest holding me on top of his sperm slick body.  I felt the relaxing warnings of drowsiness slipping over me and his breathing becoming deeper.  "Derek, let's take a shower."

"Do we have to?" he mumbled, his eyes closed.

"No, we don't have to; but in the morning we are going to be itchy and crusty when your sperm dries," I said, answering his mumbled response.

"That's okay, I just want to hold you,"  he mumbled again, tightening his arms around  me.

When he fell asleep, his arms relaxed; and I slid off to the side of him.  He mumbled incoherently; and, snuggling closer, put his arm over my chest.  Sighing deeply, I kissed his forehead and let the drowsiness overtake me.