THE GENITAL GYMNAST Copyright © 2005
by Jerry Leckie —
A well-endowed high school athlete, who considers himself straight, has
resigned himself to being appreciated only for his
"equipment," when he suddenly finds himself falling into an unexpected
relationship with a fellow jock.
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THE GENITAL GYMNAST - PART SIX
From
Part Five, Chapter Fourteen - "Don't reach for your
weapon officer. Yes, I know who you
are. I'm truly sorry that you're here. I would have preferred to
dispatch
these sons of Satan, these servants of the Antichrist, in private.
Reverend Matthews and I didn't want to violate the holy scriptures by
killing--we didn't have to kill the others--; but, now it will be
justified," he waived his pistol in the direction of the burning
church, "as I see that they have destroyed the house of God." He
shrugged his shoulders slightly. "I will no doubt
burn in Hell, along with these fiends, for killing you too officer;
but, I
don't
mind, for I will still have many years to do more of God's work before
I die."
There
was a soft creak, a groan and the sound of shattering wood
from the darkness above. Wideman looked up and screamed, firing a shot
in the air as
a six foot, fully loaded bookcase fell from the gallery above, crushing
him to the floor. The three boys stood, staring at the scene in
wonderment.
"Killian!" a voice screamed from outside.
"In here, John!" Bart yelled. "Holster your weapon! We're okay!"
Officer Wilson dashed through the door, his young face a mask of
concern. "Bart! What the fuck happened? I heard a shot."
Bart gestured to the feet protruding from beneath the bookcase. "He got
the drop on us, until that thing fell on him." As they stared at the
scene,
a large pool of blood began to spread around the bookcase.
Bart placed his hand on Wilson's shoulder to steady himself and gave
Randy and Joe a crooked grin. "Guys, that was too
fuckin' close for comfort."
The
stunning events in the house had almost sent them into shock. For a
moment of blessed relief and comfort, Randy pulled them into a group
hug. It was only then, in the aftermath, that they became aware of the
roar of the
fire, the hiss of water from the fire hoses, the distant sound of
sirens, and the muffled shouts of men running to and fro outside.
A flash, a movement, something, caught Randy's eye, and he looked up.
"Isaac?" he addressed the smoky darkness at the top of the stairs.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"Randy," Isaac's trembling, other-worldly voice sounded,
"what will God say? I saved you and Joe and Bart, but I have sinned."
Cautiously, Randy and Joe began to ascend the stairs. "Isaac," Randy
said quietly, "I'm your friend, and I wouldn't lie to you. God loves
you and wants you to be happy."
The boy's voice betrayed his tears. "Do ... you really ... think so?"
They had reached him by this time. His clothes were blood stained and
dirty
with soot. His arms hung at his sides and his eyes wore a look of
exhaustion beyond bearing.
Randy smiled at him. "Yes Isaac, God wants you to be happy and to go
away from this place, forever. Come with us now."
Isaac shook his head and seemed to shrink in upon himself. Staring down
the stairs, he mumbled, "I ... I can't go down there. They are down there."
Joe placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "It's all right Isaac. You
won't have to set foot
where they are. I'll carry you." Isaac smiled tentatively at him.
"You'll be safe. Put your arms around my neck."
Joe picked him up and they carefully made their way down the
stairs, where Bart and John Wilson waited. Bart said, "Randy, is it
okay if you and Joe take him over to your place for a while? This whole
house is a crime scene. I've got to secure it until the experts get
here."
Something made the hair stand up on the back of Randy's neck. He
motioned for Joe to take Isaac away and turned to Bart. "What
will happen to Isaac?"
The detective sighed. "You know as well as I do, he's guilty of arson
and a double murder."
"But he did the world a fucking favor!" Randy said fiercely, "And, he
saved our asses. We'd be knocking at the Pearly Gates right now if he
hadn't pushed that bookcase over the railing."
Bart replied, "Look Randy, Isaac's in bad shape now. You saw what he
did to his old man. But, if he's ever
mentally able to stand trial, the law may see it another way."
Randy's eyes flashed with barely controlled anger. "Well then, the
police
and the District Attorney might think about a couple of things.
The best defense attorney in the state works for my dad's law firm, and
Joe's dad and uncle run the regional newspaper. If anyone comes near
Isaac with a pair of handcuffs, they'll come down on them like ugly on
an ape. You saw the power of the press at school today."
Bart would not be intimidated. "You guys do what you have to do. But,
if Isaac is convicted of arson and premeditated murder, only an act of
God can save him."
A terrible, agonized groan sounded, then a deafening crash shook the
very
foundation of the house, knocking them to the floor. The sounds of
splintering wood thundered from the second story and billows of flame
illuminated the top of the stairs.
Heavy boots sounded on the porch, and a fireman raced in, yelling,
"The church steeple collapsed onto the house! This whole place is going
up! Get the fuck outta here -- now!"
Bart, John and Randy scrambled to their feet and sprinted out of the
house
as it began to moan in its death agony. They ran about fifty yards
down the street into the arms of their companions. Joe, Isaac and Mal
Foxworth had joined Cliff, Lynn, Billy and Tom keeping a worried vigil
at the edge of the police line.
Everyone hugged one another, babbling words of comfort for a few
minutes.
Bart pulled away from the group and stared at the house, now
fully involved in flames. Randy joined him, placing a hand on the
detective's shoulder. "God works in mysterious ways."
Bart grinned, without taking his eyes off the flaming house. "You may
have something there, my friend."
Mal Foxworth approached, placing his arms around the boys. "Are you
two all right?" They nodded and smiled. "I'm so glad." He hugged them
and stared at the fire, his face bearing a genuine smile. "You know, I
now believe that there is such a thing as Divine Justice. Joe told me
what you found in the house and what took place there afterward. Isaac
told me that this afternoon when he came home from school, he overheard
his father
talking to Wideman on the phone about finishing what they
started with Joe. Isaac is a real hero in my book. He solved the case
of Joe's attack and
saved your lives."
Randy glanced quickly at Bart and said, "Mr. Foxworth, maybe we should
get Isaac an attorney before he tells us anything else."
Everyone was physically and emotionally exhausted and there was nothing
more to be gained by watching the fires. Randy invited everyone back to
his house to get cleaned up and refresh themselves, and the
Wades graciously opened their home to everyone.
Once there, Bart dismissed the
officer charged with guarding the house, and phoned in a report to his
watch commander. His superior told him to knock off for the night and
get some well-deserved rest.
Bernice put Cliff and Lynn to work making sandwiches
and
Billy and Tom to setting the table, while she set out drinks. But, she
refused to serve the refugees from the burning house until they
showered and changed clothes.
"You boys look like chimney sweeps," she said primly. "You reek of
smoke and sweat and you're covered in soot. Jack, go open the gym so
these boys can clean up."
She retrieved T-shirts and shorts for Randy and Joe. Billy,
went back
to his house for fresh clothes that would fit Isaac. Cliff and Tom did
likewise for
Bart and John. Then, Jack herded them into the gym behind the garage to
shower and change.
Meanwhile, Mal called his brother, Gordon, to discuss the story that
would be
published in the morning paper. Once they agreed on the approach, he
excused himself and went to his office.
Back in the kitchen, the freshly bathed ones joined the Wades and
Cliff, Lynn, Billy and Tom around the dining table. They where
exhausted beyond telling; nevertheless, they attacked
the food with a vengeance. Between
bites, Randy announced, "Dad, Isaac is in need of an attorney."
Jack pursed his lips and regarded Isaac. "How much money do you have in
your pocket, Isaac?" he asked in his most professional voice. With
wide, questioning eyes, the boy retrieved a paper bill and some coins.
Jack held out his hand for them. "Let's see, one dollar, two dimes, a
nickle and a penny. One dollar and twenty-six cents." He pocketed the
money and gravely shook Isaac's hand. "Congratulations Young Man, that
is exactly my fee to represent you in legal matters. I'm very pleased
to have you as a client. All of the resources of our law firm are at
your service."
Eyes still wide, the boy managed, "Thank you sir."
Jack smiled warmly at him. "It's my pleasure. Now, as your attorney, I
want to caution you not to discuss anything that you have done today,
or seen or heard--with anyone--unless I am with you. To make sure you
understand, please repeat to me what I have just instructed you to do."
In a small voice, Isaac said, "I shouldn't say anything to anyone about
what happened today unless you're with me."
"Good." Jack turned his attention to everyone else in the room. "And,
for Isaac's protection, you should not repeat anything he has told you.
In fact, don't discuss anything you've seen or heard tonight beyond
what will appear in the newspaper." He smiled at Bart and John. "You
are the exceptions, of course. You have your jobs to do." The two men
nodded and returned his smile.
Now that they were properly fed, Bernice surveyed the group before her
and chuckled. "You're all half asleep." She checked her watch. "No
wonder. It's one o'clock in the morning and you've had a hard day. I
think it's time everyone
turned in."
Billy, Cliff, Tom and Lynn took turns hugging Isaac and murmuring their
support before they took their leave. Randy looked at Isaac and said,
"I don't think you want to be alone tonight, do you?" The boy shook his
head. Randy nodded toward Joe. "Good, you can sleep with us."
Bart and John rose to depart and began to thank the Wades for their
hospitality, but
Bernice shushed them. "You're exhausted and in no condition to drive,
so you're staying here. Randy, show them to the guest room."
Randy smirked at the wide-eyed peace officers. "Come on. Don't mess
with my mother when her mind's made up."
Joe and Randy slept the sleep of the righteous for thirteen hours. They
showered, dressed and stumbled down to the kitchen at two-thirty the
next afternoon, leaving Isaac still asleep. They hugged Bernice and
flopped down at the table while she set coffee and cereal before them.
"Are Bart and John up yet?" Randy asked around a mouth full of cereal.
"Don't talk with your mouth full. They left about an hour ago." She
frowned. "And, they were kind of upset with me for the silliest
reason."
Joe
and Randy looked at her in surprise. "Last night before I went to bed,
I took all of your disgusting clothes out of the gym and put them in
the trash--the smell of smoke can't be washed out of clothes. So, I
threw them out, all except John's uniform--I took that to an all night
dry cleaners--I thought it might help. Well, today was 'trash day' and
the garbage truck came by about six this morning and took everything
away. And Bart and John were upset that those disgusting things were
gone."
Randy and Joe began to chuckle, then laughed until tears ran. Randy
recovered quickly when he noticed that his mother was becoming angry.
"Mom, they were upset because they lost Isaac's clothes. There was
blood on them, his dad's blood. When the house burned down, it
destroyed the ax that Isaac used. But, the blood on his clothes would
have been at least circumstantial evidence that he killed his father."
She regarded him with a bewildered expression. He then told her the
full story of what they had seen in the house.
With a solemn face, Bernice slowly sat down at the table and stared
into the
distance for a while. The boys waited in silence for a response.
At length, she became animated, speaking in slow, measured terms. "I
never liked that man, Reverend Matthews. He was a hateful man with
little love in his heart and none to spare for his boy. I don't approve
of killing, but in my heart of hearts I know that what Isaac did was
justifiable homicide. By getting rid of his clothes, I may be guilty of
obstruction of justice, but I don't care. That boy has been through
enough! What he needs now is loving care, not a court trial."
Randy and Joe knelt by her chair, giving her a hug. "Mom, you're the
best," Randy murmured into her breast. "Isaac deserves to live a life
full of love, the kind you and Dad have always provided for me."
She looked down at him with new light in her eyes. "Thank you
Sweetheart. You've given me an idea. I'm going to speak to your father
about keeping Isaac with us. You and Joe are going to be leaving the
nest in a few months to fly off to the university, so it's going to be
lonely around here. Mal
dropped by earlier today and said he would like to have Isaac live with
him, but he didn't want the boy to be by himself during the day." She
sighed. "And, he's going to need lots of loving care, twenty-four hours
a day."
Randy exclaimed, "That's a wonderful idea, Mom. You've always had a
soft spot in your heart for Isaac anyway."
"I'm glad you like the idea. I think your father will too. Mal is
already making arrangements for a psychiatrist to examine him. And,
he's going to take him shopping for clothes and other stuff he needs
tonight."
Joe volunteered, "It looks like Isaac will be well taken care of."
She smiled warmly, placing her hand on his cheek. "He certainly will.
And he has the best group of friends on Earth. I've been getting calls
all day from the other boys wanting to know how he is."
She straightened, regarding them with a gimlet eye. "But, what I want
to know now is, how are you two feeling?" Joe and Randy looked at each
other and shrugged. "Well," she continued, "you look like hell."
They looked at her in surprise and whined, "Mooooom," at the same time.
She chuckled, as Mal Foxworth strolled into the room. "I'm entitled to
my opinion, and Mal agrees with me. So, he's very generously made
arrangements to restore you to your former selves."
Smiling, Mal hugged the boys and said, "Right. I'm sending you on an
odyssey to rediscover yourselves." He turned serious. "In the last few
days, you boys have seen and heard more than you should have, at your
age. And you need to recover from that." Smiling once more, he
pulled them to their feet and pointed. "Your magic carpet awaits you."
He herded them to the front door and opened it. There, at the curb, was
a sleek, black stretch limousine. The driver, in full livery, stood
patiently by the open door.
The boys stared open-mouthed, eyes wide. Joe recovered long enough to
mumble, "Uh, can we get in that thing dressed like this?" He looked
down at his rumpled T-shirt and shorts and beat-to-hell sneakers.
Mal replied with a smirk, "Certainly you may. And you will need no
luggage. This odyssey is magic and will provide you
with everything you require." He and Bernice waived at them and said,
"We'll see you tomorrow afternoon."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The limousine deposited them at the carriage entrance of the
Hotel Eureka, a most fashionable hostelry, ideally located equidistant
from the business, shopping and entertainment districts of the city. A
doorman in Beefeater livery called them by name and ushered them to the
lobby and into the hands of a concierge.
The man also welcomed them by name and guided them into The
Sophisticated Male, the hotel's upscale clothing store, where they each
were
fitted for tuxedo, business suit and casual wear, including shoes and
all
other
accessories. Next, the concierge ushered them into The Sporting Male,
to be outfitted for gym and swim wear. Now, fully equipped
with outerwear, the next stop was the salon where they were treated to
new hair styles, facials, manicures and pedicures. At
last, the concierge accompanied them to their penthouse suite.
He led them through the sitting room, where a fire burned
cheerfully in the fireplace, into the dressing room. There, he
introduced them to their valet, a distinguished looking, gray haired
man. To their astonishment, he had just finished putting away the
clothes for which they had been fitted less than two hours before.
"Ah, Mister Randolph and Mister Joseph, let me find you something
suitable to wear for dinner."
Once they were dressed, in shirt, slacks, shoes and sport coats, the
valet presented them to their butler, who bowed, called them by name,
and escorted them down to an elegant restaurant, where he served them a
light meal. After the satisfying repast, a handsome young man in livery
escorted them back to their suite, into the capable hands of their
valet.
He admonished them, "Now, Mister Joseph and Mister Randolph, allow me
to dress you properly
for the opera." Whereupon, he removed their tuxedos from the wardrobe.
By this time, the boys were prepared for anything, and
cheerfully accepted the man's service.
When he was satisfied that they were properly draped, he produced two
small boxes. "I have been instructed to tell you that your fathers
wanted you to wear these tonight as tokens of the high regard which
they hold for you." He opened the boxes to reveal two gold watches, and
bid them to remove the instruments. "If you please, young sirs, I
believe each watch bears
an inscription."
Randy and Joe looked at the backs of the watches and read identical
inscriptions: "To my perfect son, love Dad." They gave each other shy
smiles, tears glistening in their eyes, and donned the watches.
Ensconced in their limousine once more, their driver delivered them to
the
door of the opera house, where they enjoyed an excellent production of Turandot, from the vantage point of
box seats of course.
Back at the hotel, they were escorted to the restaurant for a light
supper, then to their suite, where the valet undressed them and wrapped
them in comfortable robes. He said, in conclusion, "It has been a
pleasure serving you, gentlemen. I've taken the liberty of turning
down your bed and placing what I believe to be an excellent bottle of
Champaign beside it. Have a pleasant evening." He bowed and departed.
Randy and Joe took their first look into the bedroom. It was richly
appointed in warm colors and textures. To coin a phrase, it was
sensuously inviting. The lights
were low, soft music filled the space, the Champaign bottle
chilled in a silver bucket, and two crystal flutes sat waiting on a
silver tray.
As they entered the room, Joe took Randy's hand and murmured, "Seeing
this room and knowing that I'm going to spend the night in it with you
gives me a woody."
Randy said, "I know what you mean. This room is definitely made for
making
love." He turned to Joe with a solemn face and announced, "But
something needs to happen before we sleep here ... because I've never
declared my love for you."
Joe's mouth opened and his eyes went wide. Smiling warmly, Randy took
his hands. "But I'm declaring it now Joe. I love
you more than anyone on Earth. You've taken your place in my heart. I
can't imagine living life without you in it. You're my companion, my
confidant, my lover, and my equal partner." His voice was not entirely
steady as he continued. "I'm in
love with you Joe. You compliment me.
And, I want to be with you ... forever."
Joe's face made a heroic effort to switch from tears to a smile.
"Oh God Randy, I've waited so long to hear you say that. I fell in love
with you right away, but I was afraid to tell you ... thought maybe
you'd think I was moving too fast ... afraid I'd scare you off ..."
Randy pulled him into a hug. "Stop babbling and kiss me."
And, he complied. Their kiss was a marathon, and very
expressive, encompassing
everything they felt for each other, down to the very fabric of
their souls. It ended, leaving them breathless, weak-kneed and
extremely aroused.
Randy muttered horsely, "Let's go to bed."
Joe gave him a crooked grin. "Let me undress you first." He pulled the
cord on his lover's robe and slowly peeled the lush fabric from his
shoulders. "Wow," he exclaimed softly. "I could undress you a hundred
times a day and I would still have the same reaction, seeing you naked.
Let's open the
Champaign. I need to get myself under control."
As Joe turned toward the bed, Randy grabbed the cord on his robe,
pulling the garment loose and off the boy's shoulders. He then beheld
his lover's naked body, in all of its muscular, youthful glory. As he
watched Joe uncork the
Champaign, the sight of his beloved performing even
this simple task caused his breath to catch in his throat.
He knew then that he would be content to be with and watch Joe for the
rest of his life.
The bottle opened with a crisp sounding pop. Smiling triumphantly, Joe
turned, holding the wine and carefully filled
the crystal flutes. He passed one to Randy and they drank, never
loosing eye contact. Licking his lips, Joe's smile turned mischievous.
"I wonder what a
Champaign kiss tastes like?"
After they found out, Joe pushed Randy onto the bed. "Now, I wonder
what a Champaign nipple tastes like." He took a sip and gently nursed
one of the hard nubs crowning Randy's breast. Satisfied with his
discovery, he proceeded to taste test the rest of his lover's body,
even drinking the tart liquid from his navel and the foreskin of his
penis.
All of Joe's ministrations had their desired effect on Randy. Within
minutes,
he was twitching and moaning with delight. But, he began to babble
incoherently when Joe drew his knees to his chest, upended his bubble
butt and anointed his rectum with Champaign.
He grabbed Joe's wrists and muttered, "Make love to me, please."
Joe's capricious behavior ceased immediately. His features
softened and
formed a loving smile. Setting the Champaign flute
aside, his fingers began to carefully
explore Randy's virgin territory. The thought of mating with the boy he
loved almost brought Joe to orgasm. He held it back by sheer willpower.
While his fingers explored, he kissed his way up Randy's body, until he
reached his goal. His tongue licked Randy's lips and probed for entry
until the boy he loved accepted his offering. At the same moment, his
lover also accepted his fingers, deep into his anal canal.
Both sighed softly and felt their passions escalate. Randy moaned, "Oh
God
Joe, this is heaven. Do it! Make love to me. I can't wait any longer."
Joe needed no more encouragement, for he wanted to mate with the man
he adored, to be at one with him. He gifted his lover one last soft
kiss,
then knelt between his legs.
Randy grasped his knees and drew them close to his chest, watching the
boy with lust-filled eyes. His breath came in short gasps, anticipating
his lover's next move. His blood rushed to the surface of every
erogenous zone of his body, turning his fair skin pink.
Joe raised Randy's butt and stuffed a pillow underneath. He leaned
forward and positioned the head of his pulsating penis at his lover's
rectum. Ready at last, his eyes sparkling with passion, he asked, "Are
you ready for me Love?"
"Yes!" Randy gasped, barely above a whisper.
Joe smiled tenderly. "Then open for me, Lover." Randy expelled a
huge
breath, and Joe pressed forward, sinking, ever so slowly, into the
boy he idolized.
"Oooo," they sighed at the same time.
Joe clenched his teeth, shut his eyes tightly and pressed on until
he was completely inside his lover. When his pubic hair touched Randy's
most private place, they simultaneously released their pent-up breaths,
making involuntary sounds.
Randy pulled Joe down to him, wrapping his legs around the boy, holding
him tightly. And they rested, for the very thought of their mating
momentarily overwhelmed them.
Joe's head lay on Randy's shoulder. He wanted desperately to tell the
boy what he was feeling, but the scent of his lover's musk, the touch
of his skin and the moist warmth encasing his penis conspired to render
him speechless.
On the other hand, Joe's scent and the touch of the boy's throbbing
cock against his prostate loosened Randy's tongue. He lovingly stroked
the hard muscles of his lover's back and crooned, "Oooo Joe, you feel
so good in me. I had no idea it could feel like this." He squeezed Joe,
hard. "We're together. We're one. You're in me. We're making love. Now
I know what it really means. Oh God, Joe. I'm yours ... forever. Be
with me always." He paused to catch his breath. "Take me Joe, now. Make
me yours."
Joe roused to action and began slowly to pump his hips. His face was
still buried in the hollow of Randy's shoulder. As his penis worked its
magic, Randy's musk filled his nostrils, working its own magic on his
libido.
Instinctively, he opened his mouth and licked the soft skin of Randy's
neck, savoring
the taste of his lover's sexual desire, inflaming his psychic and
emotional energy, his instinctual biological drive. His hips pumped
faster while his lips and teeth sought hungrily to devour his lover,
body and soul.
At last, he found Randy's lips. He plunged his tongue into the boy's
mouth, seeking to draw Randy's spirit from its resting place. At once,
his mind's desire and his nerves fused, signaling the ultimate mating
response. His head flew up, voice bellowed its mating call and his
muscles froze as
his reproductive organs spasmed, delivering his seed into his beloved.
When the contractions had subsided, tears streamed and he cried openly
while he showered Randy's face with little kisses. His lover stilled
him with a soft, loving kiss that went directly to where his soul
lived. He opened his eyes and looked down at the boy, the willing,
loving receptacle of his mating.
Renewed energy infused him, and he
realized that his penis was harder than ever. Smiling down at his love,
he murmured, "Now, it's your turn." He raised
to his knees and placed his hands under Randy's hips, elevating them,
and began to pump rapidly. In that position, each thrust of his
steel-hard erection stroked Randy's prostate, sending electric-like
charges through the boy.
Randy's eyes were wide, staring at the smiling face above him. His
heart thrilled and his mouth moved wordlessly. He gulped air by volume
as his body responded to the stimulation the love of his life was
providing. He grabbed the head of his dick and began to squeeze
rhythmically, in time with Joe's powerful thrusts.
As the sensations mounted, he clenched his teeth, his head thrashed
from side to side, his chest heaved and his abdominal muscles
contracted spasmodically.
Presently, he felt a single, total sensation building within him, one
of memorable proportions. As the wave approached, he opened his mouth
and a low keening sound emerged, gaining volume and pitch until he
screamed and the orgasm washed over him. Ropes of semen rocketed from
his
penis. His body shuddered and his sphincter grasped and held Joe in
place until the powerful sensation receded.
At last, Joe withdrew from his lover and gently lowered his hips to the
bed. Beads of perspiration trickled down his contented face. He smiled
lovingly at his mate and proceeded to lick Randy's body clean. As his
talented tongue flicked the last drop of semen from the boy's chin, he
was lying atop his love.
They embraced and Randy murmured softly. "Thank you Joe. I really don't
have
the words to tell you what I'm feeling right now."
"Neither do I, but I have the feeling that this will be a night we'll
remember forever."
"Oh yes, the night you claimed me as your mate."
"As you have made me yours before. Now, we belong to each other." He
smiled. "You need never perform as The Genital Gymnast again, unless
you want to ... for an audience of one."
Randy chuckled. "I don't have to 'perform' for you. I get a woody just
standing near you."
Joe laughed. "Thanks for the compliment, Lover." He
frowned. "Did I hurt you?" he asked in a small voice, laying a palm on
Randy's butt.
Randy grinned broadly. "Not in the least. I felt nothing but pleasure."
They slept, wrapped in a cloak of pure love.
Promptly at nine o'clock the next morning, they were awakened by the
ringing of the telephone. Their butler wished them a pleasant day and
asked for their breakfast order. He also advised them to dress for a
gym workout.
By the time they had performed their morning ablutions--and fooled
around a bit--and dressed, a stunningly handsome room service attendant
followed the butler into the sitting room, pushing a table handsomely
set for two.
After the meal, a flesh and blood Greek God, in the guise of a personal
trainer, called upon them to join him for a spirited workout in the
hotel's gym. This was followed by laps in the swimming pool, a stint in
the sauna, a bout in the whirlpool bath, and a relaxing massage.
When they returned to their room, they found one change of cloths each
laid out on the bed, and the balance of their wardrobe packed in brand
new monogrammed luggage. They showered, dressed and stepped into the
sitting room to find a sandwich board and soft drinks waiting for them.
As they wolfed down the last bites of the meal, their driver arrived to
transport them home. They rode in comparative silence, each reflecting
on the transforming experience of the past twenty-four hours.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
When the limousine
stopped in front of Randy's house, they noticed Mal Foxworth's car
parked in the driveway. The driver opened the door for them, then
unloaded their luggage. They thanked the man and he drove away. As they
strolled up the walk, Mal and Isaac stepped onto the porch to greet
them.
The boys stopped and stared. Isaac's long blond hair had been barbered
into a short style that perfectly shaped his head and smiling face. His
flawless skin was now a golden tan that complimented the powder blue
tennis outfit he wore. Their attention turned to Mal, who had undergone
a similar transformation. He too was clad in new, beige tennis togs,
wore a new hair style, and his customary pasty-white skin glistened
with a tan.
Joe placed his hands on his hips and exclaimed, "Well, if you two don't
look spiffy as all get out!"
They all laughed and greeted with hugs. Mal said, "You guys look like
new men. I take it you enjoyed your odyssey."
"We certainly did Mr. Foxworth. Thank you very much," Randy responded.
"Yeah, thanks Dad. I take it you two went on your own odyssey," Joe
surmised.
Mal gave Isaac the glance of a loving father. "That we did. We've spent
the better part of the last twenty-four hours at my private club, my
hair salon and my tailor's."
Joe smirked. "Uh, I don't mean to pry, but how did you guys get tanned
so fast?"
Mal drew himself to his full height and arched an eyebrow, daring them
to ridicule his explanation. "It's a miracle of modern chemistry and
Yankee ingenuity. It's sprayed on. Don't laugh. It works. It's supposed
to last a couple of weeks, while we get real tans playing tennis,
swimming and sitting under sunlamps." He checked his watch. "And we're
due on the tennis court in half an hour, so we'd better get going."
The boys gave Mal and Isaac parting hugs and carried their luggage
inside.
They were stopped in the foyer by an animated Bernice, who
showered them with hugs and kisses. "Oh, it's so good to have you two
home. Did you enjoy yourselves? I hope you had lots of fun. Are you
hungry? Don't Mal and Isaac look absolutely wonderful? Isaac's going to
stay with us. Jack agreed with me wholeheartedly that we should keep
him. He was all set to be sad when you boys ran off to college, but now
he'll have someone to fuss over. I put all of Isaac's new clothes
in the guest room. Oh, silly me. It will be his room from now on."
She
stopped and took a deep breath, the first she had taken since she began
speaking. "Oh, I almost forgot. You two have a guest waiting for you in
the
den. Go on in and I'll bring coffee for everyone."
They entered the den to behold Bart Killian waiting for them. He was
dressed as they had first seen him: business suit, tie, polished shoes
-- and his badge pinned to his coat pocket. This was Detective Killian.
Knots twisted in their stomachs at the thought of the news he might
possibly bring.
He rose and greeted them with a handshake. Bernice brought in a tray as
they seated themselves.
"Your folks said that you would be returning about this time of the
day, so I thought I would drop by and bring you up-to-date on the
investigation," Bart announced.
The boys were giving him their grim-but-undivided attention, so he
continued. "Yesterday afternoon, we obtained a search warrant and went
through Ray Wideman's house with a fine toothed comb. And, it was very
educational. It seems, some years ago, when Reverend Matthews brought
Wideman to the Lord--so to speak--he created a Frankenstein, a
religious zealot of unbelievable proportions. The guy was probably nuts
to begin with, but the religious conversion gave his insanity purpose
and direction."
He paused to reflect on his thoughts and took a sip of coffee. "Wideman
was an interesting man in that he was able to present a perfectly
normal face to the public, but also able to hold inside his religious
outrage at a
sinful world." He gave them a wry smile. "Fortunately for us, he
expressed
his darker side in a journal, which we have been reading. According to
that document, it was Wideman that convinced Reverend Matthews to join
him in attacking the gay students at the school, including you Joe.
"Day before yesterday, when he found out that you and Randy were
boyfriends, he went more nuts than ever. He called Matthews and tried
to convince him that you two had to die, or you would recruit other
students into homosexuality. That's the phone conversation that Isaac
overheard. But, he didn't
stick around to hear all of
it. He ran over here to warn you. What he didn't hear was that Matthews
refused to go along with Wideman's plan. And, Wideman really went nuts
then. According to his journal, he declared that Matthews had refused
to do God's work and given himself to the Devil, an abomination to the
Lord. That's where the journal ended."
Randy and Joe were wide-eyed. Joe managed, "So, what you're saying then
is that he killed Reverend
Matthews?"
Bart smiled and nodded and Randy breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God
it wasn't Isaac," he murmured.
"The time line is tricky, but we pieced it
together, using Isaac's deposition--which he gave in the presence of
his attorney, by the way. As Isaac headed over here to warn you Randy,
Wideman was on his way over to the Matthews house with an ax. After
Isaac left here, he sat on the church steps wondering how to go about
telling the police on his father.
While he was sitting there, he heard his father scream. He ran into the
house by the front door while Wideman left by the back door. Of course,
Isaac found his father splattered all over the kitchen. He says that he
doesn't remember anything after that until he heard us talking at the
foot of the stairs. He came out of his room just in time to hear
Wideman threaten us, and reacted instinctively: He pushed the bookcase
over the railing. And, the rest, you know."
"But, how did Mr. Wideman know we were there?" Randy asked.
"When he left the Matthews house, he drove over to your house Joe and
bungled his break in attempt. We surmise that he was on his way here to
kill you Randy when he saw the church fire and came to investigate. He
must have been thrilled to have found both of you in the house."
Joe frowned in thought. "Then, who set the church on fire."
Bart chuckled. "That's what makes this investigation so weird. It
wasn't arson. The experts say that an electrical short sparked a gas
leak." He grinned at Randy. "As you said, God works in mysterious ways."
He checked his watch. "Look guys, I gotta go back to
the station and turn in a report."
Randy stated, "Then you have nothing to charge Isaac with."
Bart said, sincerely, "No. Don't worry,
no charges will be made against him. And, for all he's been through, I
wish him well."
Bernice gave Bart a hug and kiss as he departed, then stood grinning at
the boys. "You knew!" Randy accused with a smirk.
"Yep," she said, laughing. "I thought it would be better for Bart to
tell you the story first hand." She checked her watch. "Now, Gordon and
Elaine are hosting a party to celebrate the end of this whole
mess, and it's going to start in about a hour. So, you guys run
upstairs and put your things away, then get into some shorts, T-shirts
and sneakers. And bring
your bathing suits along."
An hour later, Stella welcomed the boys and led them to the backyard
deck. The party seemed to be in full swing. Jack, Bernice,
Gordon, Elaine and Mal were seated at a table playing cards. Linda,
Cliff and Lynn were at another table chatting. Isaac, Billy and Tom
were in the pool splashing around with three girls from the senior
class.
Joe and Randy greeted the senior members, then joined the younger group
at their table. Randy asked, "Who are the girls in the pool? They look
familiar, but I don't know their names."
Lina chuckled. "They're straight friends of ours. We got tired of Tom
and Billy making goo-goo eyes at us, so Stell and I made a deal with
the girls. We told them there would be seven cute guys at the party
tonight, and if they could figure out which three of the seven were
straight, they could have them." She giggled and pointed and their eyes
turned to the pool. The splashing had subsided, and each girl had
paired up with a boy in the shallow end. "Looks like their radar is
accurate."
Mouths open, Randy and Joe turned to Cliff and Lynn, who were now
holding hands. Cliff smiled shyly. "Me and Lynn didn't want Isaac to be
alone last night, so he stayed over at my house with us. He was still
kind of strung out and required a lot of affection." He squeezed Lynn's
hand. "Both Lynn and I were surprised at how easy it was for us to give
that affection, considering it was a new experience for us. Anyway,
after Isaac went to sleep, we cuddled up and ...,"
He blushed, and Lynn took over. "Uh, we cuddled up and ... continued,"
he said with a bashful grin. "Later, we got to talking and admitted how
we've always really felt about each other." He leaned over and gave
Cliff a peck on the lips.
Randy sat wearing a goofy grin. He glanced from Cliff and Lynn, to the
three boys--now in earnest communication with the girls--, to Joe, and
gave his mate a sweet kiss. "I guess the Genital Gymnast has lost his
audience at last."
"Huh?" asked Stella, not sure that she really wanted an answer.
Randy patted her hand. "It's a long story. Maybe some day I'll write a
book."
The End
A sequel to this story is
forthcoming
Thanks for reading. If
you enjoyed this story (or not), tell me about it at
jer@jerryleckie.com. I appreciate constructive criticism, and I ignore
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This story and more of my writing is posted at
http://www.jerryleckie.com. In addition, you will find stories by guest
authors and links to great fiction in a variety of categories: adult,
celebrity, college, high school, incest, young friends, science
fiction, bisexual, etc.
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