I wish to retain all rights to this story. However, I am delighted to grant permission to any person to publish this story as long as there is no charge to the reader and as long as no changes are made to the story.

Copyright 2005. All Rights Reserved.


CHAPTER 36 — The Trial

Caitlyn was waiting for me when I left the locker room on Thursday. “There’s a party tomorrow night. Would you like to go?” She asked.

I shook my head. “I’m going out of town on Sunday and have a lot of work to get done.”

“School work?”

“Yeah, and some work for a professor.”

“Tom Edelstein?”

“Uh-huh, I promised him that I’d edit something for him before I leave on Sunday.”

“Couldn’t you come to the party for a little while? You need to get out for a bit.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. I need to make sure I’ve got everything done.”

“Do you have time to help me tonight with Algebra?” she asked. “I need a little help.”

For once, she didn’t seem to be coming on to me. And I knew that she did need help with her Algebra. “Sure,” I said.

. . . . .

“You’re a good teacher, Sean,” Caitlyn said, leaning back. “You should think about teaching.”

We sat side by side on a couch in her dorm lounge. She turned to face me and laid her cheek on the back of the couch.

I smiled and leaned back as well. “I don’t think I’d be a good teacher.”

“You’re patient,” she said. “And you’re smart. Kids like that.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think I’d be a very good teacher.”

She ran a finger up and down my arm. “What’s your girlfriend like?”

I shrugged. “She’s different.” Then I chuckled. “She’s a little like me. We like some of the same things; the same music and stuff.”

“If she’s like you,” Caitlyn said with a small frown, “she would be different.”

. . . . .

I was back at my desk that night when Eric came into the room, soaked from head to foot.

“Let me guess,” I said. “Ferg?”

“Who else?” He asked, pulling off his shirt. “Water balloons don’t hold a candle to chickens, though,” he added, chuckling to himself. “Everybody’s heard about that. We’re getting famous.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Parts of me are recognized all over campus.”

He grinned, pulling off his pants. “This time, those assholes got me. You owe me.”

“Tell me that when they’ve made you walk naked across campus.”

He gathered up his clothes and headed for the john. “Now we have to think up something to pay them back.”

“When do we reach the point,” I asked, “where mutually assured destruction acts as a deterrent?”


“You’re going to get us killed,” I complained. “Every time I leave the room, I have to keep watch over my shoulder.”

“Relax. Ferg has no imagination. All those guys can think of to do is make you streak across campus.”

“That’s enough.”

. . . . .

Daniel phoned a short time later. “I knew you probably couldn’t come both Friday night and Saturday night,” he said, “but I was hoping you could come for at least one night.”

“You know I’d like to. But it’s over an hour to get up there, and then I probably wouldn’t get any work done. I have to have Tom’s article back to him before I leave and it’s going to be hard to get it done along with all the other stuff I have due at the beginning of next week. I’m sorry Dan, I can’t take the time.”

“I suppose I could come down there,” Daniel said, “but I’ve got a ton to do, too. And our dorm team has an IM football game on Saturday afternoon. I was going to surprise you, Sean. I’ve been practicing with them. I was going to drag you to the game and get you to be my cheerleader.”

“That’s a surprise, alright; you playing football.” I considered it, and then shook my head. “There’s no way, Dan. I’ve gotta get work done. You stay up there and enjoy your game. If by some miracle, I can get everything done, I’ll come up there on the way to Inks Lake.” I glanced at Eric, who had his head buried in a book. “I miss you, Danny,” I whispered.

. . . . .

I was alone in the room late Friday afternoon when the phone rang. “Hey, Baby,” Lenny said. “What are you doing tonight?”


“Come study over here. I’ll fix you supper.”

“It’s tempting Lenny. It really is. But only because of the food, of course.”

“Baby!” he chided. “That’s cruel.”

“Not at all. You’re a great cook.”

“You bet, Honey. I’ll be glad anytime to bake some meat for you in my little oven.”

“I can feel the temperature rising,” I said with a chuckle.

“Come on over, Sean. I’ll let you study… a little.”

It was tempting. Lenny actually was a good cook. I could relax over there. And since I wouldn’t be seeing Daniel, if Lenny wanted to get it on, that might be cool. But then I realized that if I could take time to go over to Lenny’s to study, I could take a little more time than that and drive up to Austin instead. “No Lenny, I better not. I’ll take a raincheck though; maybe next week. OK?”

After I hung up the phone, I sat back in my chair. With Eric gone to Dallas for a game, I had the room to myself. It was an opportunity to really get some work done. But if I hurried, I could get up to Austin, spend the night with Dan, and get back in time to get a bit of work done on Saturday. But wait, Dan would want me to watch his game. Maybe I could take work to do in the morning and stay for the game.

No, I thought, shaking my head. If anything, it would just be up and back. I had too much work.

If I was going to Austin, though, I needed to hurry. It’d be a major bummer if I got up there after Daniel had gone out for the evening, and he probably would be going out because he thought I wasn’t coming. I looked at my watch. It was almost six. I could call him to be sure he stuck around, but it might be more fun to surprise him.

Better to be safe, I decided. I tried calling. But there was no answer at Daniel’s room.

I paced, trying to decide whether to go. But I just kept seeing Daniel’s face. I quickly packed. I had my bag in my hand and my hand on the door when someone knocked. Thinking of Ferg’s revenge, I backed up. Then I remembered that Ferg was traveling with the team. It was probably just someone wanting to hang out; I could make excuses and scoot.

I opened the door to find Daniel standing with a duffle in his hand. “Ah!” I stepped back, speechless. I held up my bag.

Daniel looked at it quizzically.

“I was about to leave for Austin,” I said, and then I pulled him into the room, slammed the door, and threw my arms around his neck.

He wrapped his arms around my waist and leaned back, picking me up off my feet, and he swung me around. I wrapped my legs around his waist and kissed him as he carried me to my bed.

. . . . .

Daniel smiled up from my lap and I combed his hair with my fingers. I was sitting on my bed with my back against the wall; we were still naked from making love. He lay on his back, holding a book that he wasn’t reading. The back of his head rested on my crotch. Tom’s article was spread beside me on the bed. “I could get used to studying this way,” I said.

“Next year,” he said. “Every night.” He turned his head and kissed my belly.” “I’m almost ready to drop out of UT for the year to be here with you,” He said.

“Yeah, right,” I said.

He rubbed my arm. “Honestly?” he said, “I have thought about it.”

“If anyone were to drop out, it should be me,” I said. “We’re supposed to be at UT together… but we aren’t going to drop out. Not now.”

He sat up, scooting the side of his thigh to mine, facing me. His eyes searched mine. “It’s not supposed to be like this, is it?” he asked, quietly. “I mean, being this much in love after so long.” He cradled my cheek with his palm. “After all this time, I’m still falling in love with you more and more. All week long, I think of you, and then when I see you…” he pressed his cheek to mine. “When I see you,” he whispered, “it’s like my heart starts again.” He rubbed his cheek on mine. “I love you so much!”

I wrapped an arm around him and kissed his cheek. “I love you,” I whispered. “More and more.”

“We just thought we were in love at sixteen,” he said. “We had no idea…”

“We did love each other then,” I said. “But we were new at it. We didn’t know it was something that would get even better. And it does keep getting better and better.”

He smiled and rubbed my belly.

I smiled. “And the sex keeps getting better,” I added.

“Not sex,” he said quietly. “Love making.” He kissed me and we rested our foreheads together. I reached into his lap to fondle him and found he was hard. I knew the way he liked to be stroked, and I did it that way.

And I thought about Michael and Lenny, and Sam. If Dan and I lived together, would we even be interested in others? I thought about Lenny, home alone. And I wondered if Dan would ever want to us to rescue him. But then Dan pushed me off the wall and onto my back, and then he moved over me.

It struck me once again that making love with Daniel was completely different from making love with anybody else, ever. No pretense, no stress. We knew what we liked, how to please each other, how to take our pleasure. His body belonged to me, and mine to him. There was the familiarity of ownership. And when we made love, we felt love, deeply. And in some ways, even rescues together couldn’t come close to what it was like when it was just the two of us.

His hips settled between my legs, and I opened them wider. He grabbed my shoulders and placed his mouth over mine. I ran my hands up and down his back, and we moved together.

. . . . .

I woke in the night when Dan adjusted his head on my shoulder. I was on my back. He had an arm over my stomach and a leg over my thighs. His breath warmed my chest. I stroked his back and rubbed my cheek on the top of his hair. I took a deep breath, filling my nostrils with his scent. Being with Daniel was always like being home.

. . . . .

Daylight streamed in above the curtains when I woke next. Daniel and I were laying back to back, bare butt to bare butt, feet together. It was damned comfortable and I didn’t want to get up, but I needed to take a piss.

Reluctantly, I sat up and yawned. Daniel rolled onto his back behind me and rubbed my back. “Morning, Seany,” he said.

With a satisfied sigh, I leaned forward, stretching my back under Daniel’s hand. He sat up, and used both hands to knead my back. “What’s on the schedule this morning?” he asked and kissed the back of my shoulder.

“When do you have to leave to get back for your game?” I asked.

“By eleven, to be safe,” he said, and pulling me by the shoulders, he kissed the back of my neck.

I looked at my watch. It was almost eight-thirty. “Not much time for anything but sex,” I said.

He laughed, and wrapping his arms around me, wrestled me back down on the bed.

“Careful,” I cautioned him as he straddled my hips. “I’ve gotta take a piss.”

“Oh?” he said and bounced on me.

“Cut that out!” I yelled. “My bladder will bust.”

He bent down over me and wriggled his eyebrows. “Kinky.”

“I really, really need to go,” I said. “And if you don’t move, you’re going to get a wet bottom because you’re sitting like, right on the wrong spot.”

His brow knit. “Your suitemates are on the football team too?” he asked.


“So they’re all gone and we have the bathroom all to ourselves?” he asked with a smile.

“Oh, yeah,” I answered, and then wriggled my own eyebrows. “We haven’t done it in the shower in a long time.”

“You can even piss in the shower, the way you always want to.”

“I do that anyway,” I said with a grin.

“Wait to piss till we’re in the shower then,” he said and got up from me.

I thought he was going to want to sword fight with our piss streams. But once the shower was warm and we stepped under it together, he wrapped his arms around my waist. I wrapped mine over his shoulders. “Now do it,” he said, pressing his cheek to mine.

His warm urine ran down my leg, and I let mine loose too. We kissed as we relieved ourselves on each other; the smell of our morning piss was strong in the shower.

“That was kinky,” I said.

“Did you like it?”

“Can’t you tell,” I asked. “I’m getting hard.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, and sucked on my neck.

We rubbed against each other, hardening our cocks.

“So is this what I’ll get spending my life with a psychiatrist?” I asked, tonguing his ear. “Kinkiness. You going to bring it home from the office?”

“Whenever it sounds like fun,” he said, massaging my butt. “I’ll help you add variety to your writing.”

At times, his hair looked almost translucent when it was wet. And it looked longer, clinging to the back of his long neck. Water streamed off his forehead and the planes of his cheeks. I licked droplets from the line of his jaw.

“Damn, you turn me on,” I said.

Growling hungrily, Daniel backed me to the wall of the shower. He pressed me back against the tiles with his body and kissed me. Holding the backs his angular shoulders, I lifted my bad knee and wrapped it over the back of his butt the way Jorge did to me a few times. With a kiss, Daniel bent his knees and positioned his cock. I reached under and helped guide him in.

With shower water for lube, he entered me. I let go of his cock and he pushed in as far as he could. Daniel held my leg up with one hand and grabbed my butt with his other. I wrapped my arms loosely around his shoulders and we smiled at each other as be started to move in me.

“If you don’t make me come this way, I get a turn next,” I warned.

“So? That’s cool.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. I put the side of my face to his and pulled him tight. “It feels good,” I whispered. “I want you to make me come this way.”

He pulled my leg tighter around his waist and pushed me hard against the wall with his body and hips.

“Oh yeah, that ought to do it,” I said, laying my head back against the wall.

“I’m not coming,” he said, licking water from my throat, “until you do.” And then he drove up into me, lifting me up on my toes, and pressed me to the wall.

. . . . .

We went for breakfast at McDonalds and sat side by side in a booth, leaning our heads together. We talked about classes and I told him more about Michael and Lenny. “Next time you come down, you have to meet them. They’re really neat guys, and you’ll love Lenny. He’s really hot.”

“But you like Michael better?” he asked.

“Yeah, maybe,” I said. “He’s cute and shy; sorta vulnerable. And small, like Ry.”

Daniel laughed, and putting his arm over my shoulder, gave me a rough, sideways hug. “That explains it; small and vulnerable… you’re always a push-over for small and vulnerable. Just don’t fall in love, OK?”

“I like him,” I admitted. “I think he’s going to be a friend. “But I’m not going to fall in love.” I patted his thigh under the table where no one could see. “How about you? How’s Sammy?”

“Sammy’s fine,” he said and took a sip of juice. “I did him Wednesday again.” He leaned his head closer. “What would you think if I did Adrian?”

I shrugged. “I like Adrian. Besides, how am I going to tell you no after I did Lenny and Michael.” With a grin, I rubbed his thigh. “And if you get too attached to Adrian, I’ll just come up there; he’s got the hots for me.”

Daniel squeezed my shoulder. “You could tell me no,” he said. “I told you no on girls.”

“That was girls,” I said. “It might be a couple of weeks before we see each other again -- go for it. Just be desperate for me when we get together again.”

He smiled. “We could go one more time before I leave. We could do it in the back of the Bronco.”

“Where would we drive to?” I asked. “We might as well go back to the room.”

“The back windows are tinted,” he said. Just pull to the back of the parking lot.

I smiled and took a bite of my egg McMuffin and casually slid my hand up his thigh to his crotch. He was thickening.

He pulled my shoulder close and leaned toward my ear. “Beloved,” he said.

. . . . .

We moved the Bronco under a tree at the back of the McDonald’s parking lot, and then crawled into the back. We lay down and pulled a blanket over us, then pulled off our pants.

“This is crazy,” I said rolling toward him. He rolled toward me and I cupped his loosely hanging balls, caressing his soft skin. I rubbed the heel of my hand on his cock; he was already hard.

He wrapped his hand around my own hard cock. “Sixty-nine under the blanket?” He asked with a smile. “I haven’t had dessert after my breakfast.”

Anyone looking in the windows would have known exactly what was going on with only our bare legs sticking out of two ends of the blanket. Daniel was over and I was under; one of my favorite positions. I smiled around his cock thinking that any position with Dan was one of my favorite positions.

But I really did like this position with my hands free to roam my lover’s body. His balls draped over my upper lip and his scent was close. And of course, he filled my mouth and throat. It always surprised me that I could deep throat him so easily and that he could almost do me, but once you get the hang of it… well, we had the hang of it.

He rolled to his back when we finished, and I moved up beside him, on my back, the back of my head resting on his outstretched arm. He wrapped it down my front and I slid next to him. Under the blanket, I reached between his legs and cupped his balls. “I wish you could come to Ink’s Lake with me tomorrow. The twins are probably going to attack me.”

He kissed the side of my head. “You know how I told you that it was easy to skip classes at UT? Well forget that. My professors have gotten to know me, and the classes are getting harder.”

“You’re just chicken,” I said.

He was quiet a moment. “I wish I could go with you,” he finally said. “In fact, I wish we could take this Bronco and just drive forever. Hit all the national parks, all the state parks, all the cities, and when we’re done with the US, maybe do Canada or Mexico.”

“That would be cool.”

Dan rolled up to me on his side and slid his hand under my shirt, rubbing my belly. He gazed earnestly into my eyes. “Let’s drive! This summer, if you can’t bicycle yet, let’s drive. Let’s drive all summer.”

My hand was still between his legs, and I gently caressed him. “I may need to work this summer to get some spending money. I certainly can’t work for Tom when I go to UT next fall.”

“Roger and Mary will give you money,” he said, opening his legs for me. “You know they would treat you just like me if you let them.”

“I know,” I said, eyeing his necklace; his matching necklace. I knew what he said was true. But it wouldn’t seem right. “I don’t want to sponge.”

“Oh, and I’m sponging?” he asked.

“Of course not,” I said. “It’s different.”

“No,” he said frowning. “Not for me, and not for Roger and Mary. You’re my mate, Sean; my life-mate… you’re my spouse. Roger and Mary are your parents now, too.” He smiled. “They didn’t lose a son, they gained a… son.”

He rubbed my belly, and I thought about it. “If we do drive like that,” I said, “We need to get a mattress for this hard floorboard.”

“Hey Caitlyn!” a girl’s voice called from outside. “Isn’t that Streak’s Bronco?”

We froze.

Several girls laughed. We listened, and it sounded like they were moving away. Daniel and I peeked up over the back of the front seats. Caitlyn stood at the side door to McDonald’s, straightening her clothes and getting herself checked out by the two girls who were with her. She did a shimmy and they all laughed. Then she sucked in her breath and turned for the door.

Daniel and I scrambled into our pants, climbed into the front seat, and quickly drove away.

“Speaking of small and vulnerable,” Daniel said, glancing at me. “Caitlyn is both.”

I shook my head. “No. Even if I hadn’t promised you, Dan, it wouldn’t be right to lead her on. Linda knew all about me before we did anything. Caitlyn’s different. She wants a boyfriend.”

Daniel shook his head. “Oh, and Linda doesn’t? Sometimes, Sean, you’re really dense. From everything you’ve told me, it sounds like Linda would give anything to be your girlfriend, and you know it. But Caitlyn,” he said thoughtfully, “I wonder if she doesn’t just want to jump your bones.” He cocked an eyebrow. “I saw her in action.”

“Yeah, well you saw her when she was wasted,” I pointed out. “I’m not sure either one of us qualifies as an expert with girls, Dan.”

“Sometimes they aren’t that different,” he said, looking out his window.

I had to laugh, and I reached over to rub high up the inside of his leg. “Oh yes they are,” I said. “They’re missing some vital equipment.”

“There you go again,” he said. “Just loving me for my cock.”

I chuckled, wove through traffic and made the turn on to Hildebrand. “I’ve wondered if I shouldn’t just tell Caitlyn that I’m gay,” I said. “It would be nicer than putting her off all the time.”

Daniel leaned back in his seat. “You better think about that one. If you want to stay in the closet at Trinity, the fewer people you tell, the better. Are you sure Caitlyn wouldn’t be pissed and tell everyone.”

I thought about that. “Maybe I’ll wait. But it’s funny. Now that I have a couple of gay friends close to campus, staying in the closet at Trinity doesn’t seem as important, except maybe for Eric’s sake.”

“Caitlyn may force you to decide,” he said. “I don’t think she’s going to give up until you do her, or you tell her you’re gay -- and even then she might not give up.”

“We’ll see,” I said. “She thinks Linda’s my girlfriend. I’ve been telling her I’m already committed… and I am.”

He smiled and we both stared as I drove past a couple of young guys walking alongside the road. The Daniel turned to me. “I know you promised not to do Caitlyn, but if you decide you need to and you want to do it, it’s ok. Just don’t get her hung up on you, and don’t get her pregnant.”

“I know you’re trying to be nice, Dan, but you already told me it would bother you.”

He shrugged, looking away.

“I promised you, Dan. I’m fine not doing Caitlyn; I always was.”

“Oh, I believe you. And it’s funny,” he said, “but that’s why it’s ok if you do.”

I took his hand and gripped it. “I’ll stick to my promise.”

. . . . .

After Dan left, I got a haircut so I would look good for the trial and then went to work on my assignments.

Caitlyn phoned late that afternoon. “Hey, Longstory. Several of us are going to hang out on our dorm ramp tonight. Why don’t you come over when you finish studying?”

“I’m no where close to finishing, Caitlyn. But I’ve made good progress. I’ll come over for a little while.”

I waited until almost dark, and then took a book and my guitar over.

There were at least a dozen girls and guys on their ramp. I read my book for a while, and then we ordered pizzas. I shared with Caitlyn. I wasn’t trying to lead her on, but I did like her as a friend. She was perky and fun. Afterward, I played my guitar while two couples played spades. Caitlyn sat down behind me and leaned back against my back, giving us both a backrest.

It didn’t seem right, not being honest with her; not if she was becoming a friend. I thought again about telling her, maybe sometime when other people weren’t around. But Dan’s warning was still fresh in my ears, so I decided to be cautious.

When I said I had to go, she followed me down the stairs and it was obvious that she wanted a kiss. So in the dark at the bottom of the stairs, I kissed her and she pressed her body to mine.

I pulled away and gave her a final, light peck.

“I know,” she said with a sigh. “Already committed.”

I put my hand on her shoulder. “Can’t we still be friends?”

She stepped closer and put her hand on my belly. “We already are friends, Sean. But there’s also chemistry between us. You feel it, too. I know you do.”

“Well, shit, Caitlyn. Any guy within five feet of you is going to feel chemistry. You’re just plain hot.”

She laughed and gave me a hug. “Go study,” she said. And as I turned, she gave my butt a swat. When I glanced back, she winked. “Someday, Longstory,” she said. “Someday soon.”

. . . . .

When I stopped by Tom’s house on Sunday afternoon to leave the edited article, I found him and Sarah moving an old double bed from one of the bedrooms. “What are you guys doing?” I asked.

Tom frowned and jerked his head toward Sarah. “Somebody wants to convert a perfectly good bedroom to a sewing room.”

“Shove it, Tom. You have your office. I deserve a crafts room. The real problem is that you’re just too lazy to move a little furniture.”

I set down the article and stepped up to help with the bed.

“Where are we taking this?” I asked.

“That’s part of the problem,” Tom said. “She doesn’t know.”

“I do too,” Sarah protested. “I know somebody who might want it, and if not, we’ll give it to Good Will.”

“I might be interested,” I said. Would you be willing to give away just the mattress? Because I’ve been thinking about getting an air mattress for the back of my Bronco… for when I go camping.”

“Camping, huh?” Tom said with a laugh.

“Well, yeah,” I said. “Really.”

“You can have the mattress,” Sarah said, “if you’ll haul the whole thing away. I might even have some sheets for it that you could have for it.”

“Deal!” I said.

I took the bed to the closest Good Will drop off point. Sarah thought they might be open on Sunday, and they were. And they were happy to take only the frame and box springs.

Back at the dorm parking lot, I laid the mattress out. The fit was a little tight and lumpy, but I thought some usage would flatten that out. If I hadn’t needed to get up to Ink’s Lake, I would have gone over to Austin to break the mattress in with Daniel. Instead, I went inside the dorm and phoned him. “We’ve got to go camping soon now!” I told him. “Tom’s girlfriend gave me an old mattress that fits the back of the Bronco pretty well.”

“When can we go? You’ve got that diving meet next weekend.”

“What about the weekend after? We need to go back home to catch one of Colin’s games sometime soon.”

“Yeah,” he said. “That could work. It’d be fun to see everybody again.”

. . . . .

The gate was right where they said it would be, half a mile from the intersection of two farm-to-market roads. I turned up the dirt road toward the farmhouse, which was half-hidden by shade trees at the base of a low hill.

As I pulled to a stop, both twins came out the front door. They were dressed alike in high-heeled western boots, tight jeans, t-shirts (one red, one black), and hats; western hats, of course. Their long brown hair hung down from the backs of their hats, all the way down to their collars. They looked a little taller than I remembered, their shoulders a little broader, and their hips much narrower. But what really drew my eye was the way they filled the fronts of their jeans. I decided I’d have to dress Daniel up western sometime… soon.

I was barely out of the Bronco before both guys were hugging me and clapping my back, and completely blocking my vision with their cowboy hats. I removed a hat with each hand. “You could put an eye out with those things,” I said.

They shook out their hair, laughing.

“We’ve got a bet,” Peter said. “Can you still tell us apart?”

“Sure,” I said, smiling. “But it would be easier if I could see you guys naked.”

They laughed.

“Nah, I already know,” I said. “It’s not like you guys have changed that much in only six months. You’re Peter,” I said, punching him on the arm. “And you’re Alan,” I said, nodding to Alan.

“Ha!” Peter said. “I won!”

I moved around to the passenger side of the Bronco to get my bag, and they watched me use my cane.

“How’s the leg?” Alan asked.

“It’s doing better,” I said. “The water therapy’s helping. Once this trial is over, I’m going to try to get by without using the cane as much, but for the trial, the DA said to bring it.” I forced a smile. “To get sympathy.”

“They’re gonna roast that fucker,” Alan said with conviction. I know a couple of people called for jury duty. They don’t care much for fancy guys from Houston.”

“How do they feel about gays?” I asked quietly, following them up the steps to their house.

Both stopped.

“It could come out in the trial,” I said. “The DA warned me it could. Are you guys sure you want me to stay here?”

The twins glanced at each other. Alan frowned, and Peter watched him, expectantly.

“Why would the DA bring that up?” Alan asked.

“Not him,” I said. “Jimmy’s lawyer might.”

“Oh,” Alan breathed a sigh of relief. “Everyone already knows that Jimmy’s a piece of shit. Come on.” He waved me on inside.

Their mom was a short, plump woman whose brown hair was half the length of her sons’. She had a wrinkled face; like someone who spent lots of time outdoors. She smiled and held out her hand. Her grip was strong.

“How long till supper?” Alan asked.

“Bout an hour,” she said, glancing at the kitchen clock. “You like fried chicken, Sean?”

“You’ll like Mom’s,” Peter quickly said. “We asked her to fix it for you. Nobody makes fried chicken like Mom’s.”

“I love fried chicken,” I said.

“We’ll take him back to our room to put his bag away, Mom,” Alan said.

The two of them led me down a narrow hall to a wide back room with big windows and two, high twin beds. I was about to ask which bed I would sleep in, thinking that could start some fun teasing, when the door slammed behind me and two bodies suddenly pressed mine.

Hands pushed up my shirt and tugged my belt.

“Guys!” I said, “What about the windows? Aren’t you afraid your mom will see in?”

“She never comes around this side of the house,” Alan said, pressing me from behind. “Besides, she’s busy cooking.

Peter, pressing me from the front, pulled my mouth down to his while Alan pressed his crotch to my butt. They had my shirt off and my pants down before I knew what was happening. “Geez,” I said with a gasp. “I guess you guys are happy to see me.”

For an answer they pushed me back onto one of the beds and pulled my shoes, socks, and my pants the rest of the way off. And then I had a mouth on each nipple and hands all over my legs, crotch, and belly.

“So,” I said breathlessly, squirming under them. “I guess you missed me.”

Mouths moved down my stomach, tongues licked my balls, between my legs, and up my shaft.

I gasped as Peter’s mouth closed over my cock and I clutched the back of his shirt. “So,” I said breathlessly, “you guys haven’t been getting out much?”

Alan got up from the bed and pulled off his boots, socks, pants, and underwear. His cock wagged from under his shirt as he grabbed a jar of lube from a drawer. His legs had developed good definition and his strong calves had a light dusting of golden hair. He approached my feet, stroking as his eyes met mine. He was hungry.

Maybe the fact that Peter was doing such a good job sucking my cock had something to do with getting me worked up. Maybe it was because of the way Alan looked at me. Maybe it was because I had been bottoming a bit more than normal for Daniel lately. But for whatever reason, I really wanted to feel Alan inside me, and I let him see that in my eyes as I pulled up my knees. Stepping up to the bed, he lifted my legs, one over each shoulder, and dragged my butt to the edge of the mattress.

Peter stayed on my cock, sucking and swirling, and I tightened my grip on the back of his shirt as Alan lubed me, and then bent his knees slightly to get the height right. He felt thick, cool, and wet as he entered me. He felt good.

Alan leaned slightly forward, and grabbed the tops of my thighs to pull me tighter against him. And then he began to thrust.

Between the two of them, there was a mind-blowing storm of sensations at my middle. Alan pumped hard and Peter bobbed aggressively on my cock. I lost track of whose hands were where. There had to be more than four hands; I felt them everywhere, over my balls, my shaft, between my legs, up and down my thighs, and my butt.

I pulled up Peter’s shirt, wanting to feel his bare skin. He pulled off my cock long enough to let me pull his shirt over his head, then he was right back on me, swirling my cockhead with his tongue.

Clutching Peter’s back with both hands, I let my head loll back and forth as all my concentration went to the incredible feelings from my waist down. And when I came, it was all I could do to keep from crying out loudly.

Peter swallowed all I had to give and stayed on my cock until I finally pulled him off. Alan slowed his thrusting while I recovered. His eyes roamed my body and he looked as though what he saw added to the enjoyment of what he felt.

Peter climbed off the bed and finished stripping; stepping up beside Alan, cock in hand.

Alan picked up speed, and began pounding into me. He leaned forward over me, forcing my legs up and out. I rubbed his shoulders through his shirt and felt his muscles tense as he drew closer to coming. Then he stiffened and shuddered, and I felt him inside, throbbing. He slowed. His head dropped, and finally he pulled away. Peter immediately stepped up, filling me again.

Alan came around and sat on the edge of the bed beside me. He smiled and gently rubbed my belly. “We’ve been waiting for you a long time,” he said. He looked me up and down, and then idly lifted my still thick cock from my belly with his open hand. “I thought your body would get soft this summer, but you look as good as ever.” He smiled. “Your cock’s even better than I remembered.”

Peter groaned and pulled my legs, pulling my butt tighter to him.

“We planned it,” Alan said. “We agreed to strip you as soon was we got you into this room, and then we would get you all worked up by sucking your titties and rubbing your cock.” He smiled. “It worked.”

Then he leaned over and kissed my nipple. “You’ve got good pecs,” he said, and then started sucking my nipple and stroking my cock.

“He’s got a girlfriend now,” Peter mumbled. “He’s getting into nipples.” Then Peter closed his eyes, tossed his head back, and ground into me.

I slid my hand over Alan’s thigh and arched under his mouth and hand. And my cock grew rock hard again.

Peter let completely go of my legs, allowing them slip to the side, and he grabbed me by my hips, pounding.

I pushed Alan down my body, and he switched from sucking my nipple to sucking my cock. I reached between his legs and caressed his balls. Then I closed my eyes, so I could just feel; feel it all.

When Peter finished, he stayed inside me until Alan brought me off. Then they watched me quietly while my breathing returned to normal. With a groan, I covered my eyes with my arm. “I think I better find a hotel.”

“No way,” Peter said. “For one thing, you’ve come twice and we’ve only come once; you owe us.”

“Go catch up on each other,” I said with a dismissive wave.

“Uh - uh,” Alan said. “We’ve got plans. Tonight we push the beds together and you get the middle.”

“You are remembering that I have a trial tomorrow?”

“And you’ll be smiling the whole day,” Alan promised. “You like being between us. I remember; you like sandwiches.”

“Well,” I said, rubbing my gut. “Maybe we’ll go one more time tonight.”

They both laughed. “One more time!” Alan exclaimed. “That’s funny.”

“That’s it,” I said. “I sleep in the back of the Bronco.”

“Let’s take his clothes,” Alan said to Peter. “That way he can’t go anywhere.”

“Wanna bet?” I said. “You’ll never believe my nickname at Trinity.”

. . . . .

A lot of places sell fried chicken in Texas, but I never ate chicken as delicious as that made by the twins’ mom. She served it with homemade mashed potatoes and rolls; a lot of mashed potatoes and rolls. I ate much more than normal for me. And yet, when I finally pushed back from the table, she looked disappointed.

“I can’t handle any more,” I assured her.

“Even homemade pie?”

I groaned.

“I made the pie with Fredericksburg peaches we put away this summer. Would you like it with vanilla ice cream.”

“Maybe a little piece,” I said.

She left the room to get the ice cream, and the twins grinned broadly at me. “Ready to bust?” Alan asked.

“Don’t you people believe in moderation?” I asked.

“Not when it comes to dessert,” Peter said with a grin and a long look up and down my body.

Their mom returned and set the ice cream on a counter. “If you get hungry later, Sean, there will be cold fried chicken and peach pie in the refrigerator.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mom,” Alan said. “We’re going to make sandwiches later.”

I groaned.

. . . . .

In the middle of their back yard was a very large, very old oak tree. In its branches, ten feet above the ground, was a tree house. “Our uncle built it when we were kids,” Peter said. “You’ve gotta see it.”

I looked at the steps, which were little more than slats of wood nailed up the trunk of the tree. “I’m not sure,” I started to say.

“Go on,” Alan said, pushing me toward the tree. “I’ll come up right behind you and hold your butt.”

“Yeah, well that ought to get me up the tree.”

Alan lay beside me on the clubhouse floor, his hands behind his head. Peter lay with his head on my belly and I stroked his hair. A few stars were visible through the branches above. The air was still and lightning flashed in the north; a cold front was coming.

“You like Trinity?” Alan asked.

“Yeah, but I wish I was at UT.”

“You miss Daniel?” Peter asked.

“Yeah. We’ve been getting together most weekends, but it’s not the same.”

“I’m glad they’re going to put Jimmy away,” Alan said. “The guy’s evil.”

“Alan… Peter” their mom called out from below. “Have you done your chores? Have you finished feeding the animals?”

“We will, Mom,” Peter called back.

“I’ll do it,” Alan said, sitting up. “Just don’t do anything fun until I get back.”

“And not even then,” I said.

“Oh yes you will,” Alan said with a slap to the side of my butt, and then he climbed down the tree.

“Sean?” Peter asked quietly as I continued to stroke his hair.


“Are there other gay guys at Trinity?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t met any. I’ve met a couple not far from the campus though.”

“I wish there were other gay guys around here. I can’t wait to leave for college.”

“It’s not like I know that many in San Antonio, Peter. Like I said, I’ve only met a couple.”

His head rolled on my stomach and he looked at me. “Could I come visit you sometime?”

“Sure, I guess,” I said, stroking his hair and watching his head rise and fall on my belly as I breathed. “We’d have to work out when; it stays pretty busy for me. Just you? Or Alan too.”

Peter slid up beside me, on his side. “Just me. Would that be OK?”

I nodded. “Sure.”

“It’s just that,” Peter said, and then bit his lip. “I just want to be around other gay guys, even for a weekend. Alan doesn’t count. He’s my brother. And he’s not like you and me, he’s got a girlfriend.”

“Just because he has a girlfriend doesn’t mean he’s not gay. Maybe he’s bi… bisexual, because he sure seems to enjoy guy sex, too.”

Peter rolled to his back and looked up into the sky. “Alan’s not gay like us, Sean. He likes girls.”

“Every guy is different,” I said with a smile. “I still like girls… well sometimes.”

“It’s not just that. He’s not like a gay guy is supposed to be… inside. For him, the two of us messing around isn’t a whole lot different from when we used to shoot blackbirds together; you know, when we used to jack-off together. But like… he stares at girls as much as guys. He’s never wanted a boyfriend; he’s never fallen in love with a guy.”

“You have?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Peter said, nodding. “His name’s Richard, but he doesn’t even know I exist.”


“Oh yeah,” he said, smiling up at the sky. “He’s tall and strong, and he’s got incredibly thick black hair that grows way down on his temples.”

“Yeah, he sounds cute,” I said, thinking he sounded a little like Aaron.

“Alan’s falling in love with his girlfriend,” Peter said. “It’s when he’s with her that he acts all sweet and romantic. When he does stuff with me, he’s always just horny. And when we’re with other guys, he treats them just like other guys.

“He’s your brother,” I observed. “It might be awkward for him to show affection the way you want.”

Peter chuckled, ruefully. “He’s sure as hell never been affectionate.” With a deep sigh, Peter looked up at the stars. “When I dream about Richard, I dream that he holds me. I dream of us both… you know, naked; and holding each other. Kissing. Caressing. Not just getting our rocks off like I do with Alan, but really loving each other… in love with each other. That’s what gay guys do; they fall in love… with guys.”

“Last summer,” I said, thoughtfully, “you guys slept on me as though you were used to sleeping cuddled together. Don’t you do that? Isn’t that affectionate?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess we do that sometimes, but not very often. We sleep in separate beds unless Alan gets horny and we have sex together.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and took a deep breath. “I want a lover, Sean… like Daniel is for you.”

“A lover,” I said, mustering all of my eighteen years of wisdom, “isn’t going to be a mirror image of you. Daniel’s not the same as me. Sometimes we’re very different. And so are brothers.”

I put my hands behind my head watched the first puff of breeze blow through the leaves above. “I miss my brother,” I said. “We’re a little like you and Alan. Not that Colin and I have messed around as much as you guys, but we’ve messed around plenty. And Colin’s like Alan in that he likes girls. But one night…” I glanced over at Peter. “One night, we made real love, Peter. It just sort of happened, but we made real, passionate love. It was like all the stuff that was in the way because we are brothers just fell away.” I looked back up to the sky. “Other than Daniel, Colin has always been my closest friend. And when I get real homesick, it’s Colin that I’m thinking of. I miss him a lot.”

A flash of lightening lit the branches of the tree above. A puff of breeze blew through. The storm was drawing nearer.

“I wouldn’t trade Alan for anybody else,” Peter said quietly. “Not as a brother. But I want to know what it’s like when someone is in love with you. I want someone who wants to hold me, even when we aren’t horny. And when we are horny, someone who will make love to me, someone who will respond when I kiss them, or look at my body the way you look at my body.”

I rolled up on my side and looked down into his eyes. I wondered if he knew that he and his brother were as much lovers as many who call themselves lovers. I laid the palm of my hand on his cheek and his eyes moved to mine. “Lovers are affectionate,” I said. “Is that what you really long for?”

Very slowly, he nodded.

I bent over him until our lips just touched. I kissed him very gently and stroked back his hair.

He smiled and rubbed my chest. “If I come see you some weekend, could we be… affectionate?”

“We can be affectionate tonight if you want,” I said.

He laughed. “Not a chance. Alan won’t be. We’ve been waiting too long for you.”

The storm hit, just as we finished brushing our teeth and saying good night to the twins’ mom. Once we were in the room, they turned out the lights, and among the flashes of lightning and the booming of thunder, they stripped me - more slowly this time.

We stood in the middle of their room, as the rain roared, and we brushed bare skin on bare skin, removing one piece of clothing at a time, taking turns. I purposed to concentrate on Peter; to show him some of the affection that he seemed to want so much. And so, at first I basically ignored Alan as he pressed me from behind. When we were all naked, I pulled Peter’s body to mine, lifted his chin, and kissed him softly.

I backed him to the bed, and laid him back on it, just as a brilliant flash of lightening filled the room, and the walls rattled with thunder. Alan softly rubbed my back as I moved up over Peter, settling between his open legs. We embraced, kissed, and Alan lay down beside us. He watched our bodies and stroked my butt as I ground cocks with Peter.

Peter however, wasn’t exactly mellow. Our kiss quickly turned hot. His hands roamed my back, caressing, appraising, feeling, and prodding. When Peter wrapped his legs around my waist, Alan handed me the bottle of lube.

I prepared Peter, and entered him; closing my eyes and concentrating as his tightness passed slowly down my cock; concentrating until he was snug around the base of my cock and his bottom bones pressed the hollows between my legs.

Alan caressed my butt as I lay down on top of Peter and we wrapped each other up in arms and legs. We moved together, tightly coupled, our mouths open to each other. Alan kissed my back, stroking my butt and down between my legs.

Alan might not be as affectionate as Peter wanted, but he wasn’t a bad lover at all, and gentler than some. And if he wasn’t gay, he was at least bisexual. No straight guy would kiss my shoulder and rub my body the way Alan did. And then I felt cool lube on Alan’s fingers, probing at my entrance.

I paused when he entered me, and was immediately surprised at how good it felt. I certainly enjoyed being in the middle of a sandwich and had been in a few. But the feelings as Alan pressed forward were as good as I’d ever had.

I rose up on my hands, pressing deeply into Peter. And then Alan slammed home. He pushed in hard, driving me even deeper into Peter, stretching me into him. Alan drew back and slammed home again, squeezing my prostate and all my tender spots between Peter’s bottom bones and his own thick erection and grinding loins.

It was as though a deep, sexual craving, almost a sexual itch, grew and was satisfied with each exquisite thrust of Alan’s cock. Each time he slammed home, driving me into Peter, he squeezed me deep inside and the feeling was close to that of an orgasm; one continuous, pulsing orgasm.

Alan wrapped his arms around my chest and pulled me back, chewing with his teeth on my upper back, between my shoulder blades. I hung on to Peter, keeping his butt tight against me. Peter grabbed my thighs, and the three of us ground together as one. And thunder echoed from the hills around their home.

It’s funny where the mind goes in sex, not that I was thinking much. But I did think about Daniel and how I wanted to tell him about this. More than tell him, I wanted to try it with him, and somebody else. We once did a sandwich almost like this with Ry. Maybe we could try it again, and maybe we could figure out how to make it feel this good.

Alan pulled my shoulders back, and that final bit of stretching and pressure took me to the edge. I started to cry out and he covered my mouth with his hand, while at the same time, he wrapped his other arm tightly around my waist and drove forward powerfully with his hips. And I held Peter’s butt tight against me, pulsing my semen into him. At the same time, Alan pressed his mouth to the back of my shoulder and whimpered, and I felt his cum make our joining slick.

We slowed, and stopped. Alan wrapped both arms around me and squeezed tight, giving his hips a final shove forward. And the pressure of his cock forced out one last bit of semen, and ecstasy.

When Alan rolled off to the side, I went with him, still heaving and panting. Peter hadn’t come yet, so I rubbed his belly as we relaxed and thought about jacking or sucking him off. But it occurred to me that Peter might be wanting a go at my butt, too, and as crazy as it seemed after the climax I’d just had, I sort of wanted him to. I wanted that feeling again and wondered if I could get it with the twins positions reversed.

I thought about it while we rested. I kissed Peter and fondled him, keeping him hard. He played with my cock, working to keep me erect as well. And when I was fully hard again, he moved to me, pulling me into a kiss. He had quieted, and it occurred to me that even though he hadn’t come, Peter had just been as royally fucked as I had.

I wanted the sandwich again. I wanted to see if it would feel the same with Peter behind, doing the driving. The rain outside was steady now, and Alan was almost asleep. But I needed him in order to make the sandwich complete. So I rolled him onto his back and moved up over him, lifting his legs. “Peter needs his turn,” I said.

Alan, sated, smiled drunkenly; a sexual drunkenness.

Peter handed me the lube and I rubbed some into Alan’s butt. Then I entered him and he arched for a moment under me. I held there, impaling him until he started to relax. I lay down on him and wrapped my arms over his head. I rocked my hips, driving into him adjusting the fit, enjoying the feel. He was tight, warm. I made circles with my hips and our mouths met; and his mouth opened to mine. I didn’t know if it was always the same, but at that moment, Alan was as gay as anyone, and we both enjoyed it.

And then Peter entered me.

It wasn’t the same feeling as when Alan did it; good… close… but not the same. He pounded hard, like his brother had, but the exquisite edge was missing. That surprised me, because they were identical twins. But it was still damned good, even if I did start to get sore.

Peter came before I did, but stayed until he grew soft, helping me to eventually come inside Alan.

By then, Alan had revived. “I’m hungry,” he said as I lay on my back, recovering.

“Yeah, me too,” Peter said, sitting up.

I groaned.

“Cold, fried chicken,” Peter said, leaning close to my ear.

“Think about the pie,” Alan said, rubbing my shoulder.

The clock read 1:30 AM. It wasn’t all that late. “OK,” I said.

It was 2:48 AM when we lay down to sleep because, besides eating, we washed off our cocks and butts in the shower. I wasn’t worried; I could sleep in. I wouldn’t have to be at the courthouse until ten or eleven.

The clock read 6:05 AM when Alan woke me by rubbing his erection on my butt. I rolled from my side to my stomach. “Farm boys!” I said with a groan.

He kissed my shoulder and ran his hand soothingly over my butt.

“Shit, Alan,” I said. “I’ve got to be in court this morning. “I’m supposed to look like the all American boy, not a piece of shit.

He kissed my back again and rubbed himself on my butt. Then Peter was beside me, rubbing my shoulder. “We have to get up for chores soon,” he said. “But we have time.”

“Guys,” I pleaded. “I’m all worn out.”

“Will you be here tonight?” Peter asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Depends on what happens today.”

“You might go back before we get home?” Alan asked.

“It could happen,” I said.

“Then we better do it,” Alan said, rubbing behind my balls.

. . . . .

The Burnet County, Texas courthouse is one of many classic turn of the twentieth century, hill country courthouses. Built with large blocks of stone and turreted corners, the building was a visual representation of a hundred and fifty years of Texas justice.

I was able to park close by, but because I was so sore, it was still a chore to hike from the parking lot.

When a guy old enough to be my grandpa offered to help me up the courthouse steps, I figured I looked pretty bad. I had never been this sore from lovemaking before. I should have never let them do me that morning. They both wanted my butt and it hurt both times. And that was surprising. I was used to taking Daniel. I had even taken Lenny fairly easily only the weekend before. Something felt wrong inside. And I was definitely sore; I didn’t know you could get sore inside. And my butt was so loose I worried that I might leak.

I was exhausted. And it hurt to even move.

I found the DA’s office and a friendly young lady named Mandy took me to a conference room to wait. She watched with concern as I slowly followed. “I don’t think the DA knew how badly that other boy injured you,” she said, watching as I sat down painfully. “I think he would have upped the charges.”

I smiled grimly to myself, wondering what he would charge the twins with if he knew that they were the more proximate cause of my suffering that morning. Then I remembered them pounding my butt over and over. Talk about pressing charges, I thought.

Mandy brought me coffee. I wasn’t a big coffee drinker, but I really needed it.

“They’re almost finished picking the jury,” She said. “They might even be ready for you before lunch. If not, I’ll bring you something.”

Tylenol, a pillow, and a sleeping bag were what I really wanted.

“We’ve got a good jury,” she told me when she brought me a hamburger for lunch. “The DA says we’re going to win.”

I’d never drunk so much coffee in my life. It was almost two in the afternoon before Mandy came to lead me upstairs. I felt terrible. But she let me pause at the bathroom to wash my face, comb my hair, and straighten my sports coat. I studied my reflection in the mirror. All-American piece of shit, I thought, sadly. I decided that it had been a huge mistake to stay with the twins.

Then Mandy took me to the courtroom.

When I stepped inside, every eye turned toward me. The courtroom was half-full. And up near the front, in addition to the judge, jury, and lawyers, I saw the back of Jimmy’s head. I froze. He was the only one in the courtroom who wasn’t looking at me. But I knew it was him, and a flood of conflicting emotions ran through me.

They all watched as I made my way painfully to the front. I tried to look like the all-American boy, and not like the butt-sore zombie that I was. I struggled to clear my head, and tried to hide the discomfort I felt inside.

They led me to the witness stand and swore me in.

The assistant DA, who I assumed was the one I had spoken to on the phone earlier, approached me with deep concern in his eyes. He glanced at the jury, and I noticed a couple of women looked even more concerned than he did.

Then he started his questioning. He started with our first bike tour and he let me talk about how much fun it was. We talked about my friendship with Daniel, but not about our being lovers. We talked about Daniel’s and my plans for the second bike tour. We talked about my running and the scholarship I had earned. Then we talked about the second bike tour; about Jimmy’s threats. I mentioned how Jimmy tried to kick me off my bike and his attorney objected for some reason; it was his first objection.

Each time the assistant DA asked a question, he turned to the jurors as I answered. The jurors looked friendly and interested, and I found myself talking to them. It sure beat looking at Jimmy who glared at me each time our eyes met.

Then the DA asked about the hospital, my operations, my cane, my prognosis. “Isn’t it possible, Mr. Sullivan, that you will never run again?”

“I’m going to run again,” I said.

“Have the doctors told you that you will?”

“Well,” I said with a shrug, “they can’t guarantee anything.”

“Has your doctor told you that you may never be able to return to your running?”

I didn’t want to think about that. I never wanted to think about that as a possibility. I was so damned tired, so damned tired and sore. My eyes filled with tears. It was embarrassing as hell. I rubbed my eyes on my jacket. A clerk handed me a box of Kleenex.

“I’m sorry,” I said, drying my eyes. “I’m just a little tired.”

“Your honor,” the assistant DA said to the judge. “It’s late. May I suggest that we recess and resume questioning in the morning?”

“Your honor,” Jimmy’s lawyer said, rising to his feet. “May we approach the bench?”

The three of them, the assistant DA, Jimmy’s lawyer, and the judge huddled together for a moment. Then the judge banged his gavel. “We’ll recess for a half hour,” he said.

The assistant DA found me in the same conference room where I had waited that morning. “I have good news,” he told me. “They entered a plea. He’s going to prison, Sean, for eighteen months, and then he’ll be on probation for two years.”

He sat down beside me and put his hand on my arm. “Are you OK?”

I nodded.

“From our phone conversations, I had no idea how badly he had hurt you.”

I felt myself blush. There was no way I was going to tell him that I looked like shit because the twins had fucked me all night long.

“I watched the jurors,” he said, “as you walked in and sat down. They felt your pain.”

Not where I was feeling it, I thought irreverently.

“They were ready to lynch that other boy, right then.” He patted my arm. “I’m sorry you cried on the stand, but honestly Sean, you couldn’t have done better if it had been rehearsed. Every one of those jurors teared up. I mean, the trial was over right then.”

“So, I can go home?”

“It’s over. You can go home.”

I sighed.

“And I don’t think you need to worry about this being in the newspapers,” he said. “Not much of a story to it without a trial.”

. . . . .

The DA let me use a phone in an empty office to call home. I told Colin about Jimmy going to jail and asked him to pass it on to Mom and Dad.

Then I called Daniel. “It’s crazy,” I told him, after filling him in on the night before, and then about the trial. “But after last night, I looked so terrible, that everyone assumed Jimmy had almost killed me, and his lawyer just folded.”

“He did try to kill you,” Daniel said quietly. “Sean… I…” he started to say.

“Daniel,” I said, interrupting him. “I did a lot of thinking, driving up here yesterday, and then waiting for court today. I’m really tired, and this may not make a lot of sense. But it’s something I wanted to tell you about sometime anyway.”

“What?” Daniel asked cautiously.

“It’s just that I started thinking again about what things would have been like for us if Jimmy hadn’t… done what he did. And then it dawned on me that a lot of good things have come out of this summer. In fact, I wonder if things haven’t turned out for the better?”

I expected a gasp or a snort or even a “you’re crazy!” but Dan was silent. So I continued. “I wonder if we had started drifting apart, Dan; before the bike tour. And I wonder if what Jimmy did to me, forced the issue. Because Dan, he didn’t simply try to kill me; he tried to kill us. We didn’t let him, Dan. You decided to fight for me and I decided you were more important to me than anything that happened…. we chose each other Dan. We made big choices this summer.”

He was silent a moment. “Funny, but I thought of that too,” he said quietly. “I was afraid you’d be pissed as hell if I said it.”

“I might have been,” I admitted. “Until I thought of it myself… You know what else I decided?”


“I decided that if I had the choice of running again or us being together, I would choose us every time.”

“My only wish,” Daniel said quietly, “would have been that it was me he attacked and not you. I’d have given anything for that.”

. . . . .

It was close to ten that night when I pulled into the Trinity parking lot, and it had been a struggle to keep my eyes open. My body was still sore and things still didn’t feel right inside.

Eric asked how things had gone and I told him as quickly as I could while I stripped off my clothes and fell into bed.

At one in the morning, I woke needing badly to take a piss. And I woke again at one thirty. And then again, a few minutes later. And again. And again. I grew increasingly miserable. I wondered at first if it was all the coffee that I had drunk earlier. And then a more sinister thought occurred to me; I wondered if I had picked up VD. I thought I remembered that with the clap, it was painful to urinate, or urination might come with a burning sensation. I tried to remember if I’d heard of any venereal disease that caused a frequent urge to piss.

If I had a venereal disease, who had given it to me? Certainly not the twins; it wouldn’t show up that fast. From Daniel? Hell, then I probably gave it to the twins. Or maybe I got it from Michael or Lenny, in which case I gave it to Daniel… and everybody.

When the alarm went off for my first class, I’d had only a couple of hours of solid sleep. I decided that I’d better see a doctor.

. . . . .

At that time at least, Trinity didn’t have an on-campus physician. The nurse wasn’t happy when I refused to explain my symptoms. “It’s a guy thing,” I told her.

I couldn’t tell whether her frown was because she was pissed that I wouldn’t tell her my problem or because she assumed that I’d gotten myself a “shameful” disease. I didn’t care. I was exhausted and miserable, and worried about what was wrong.

She called a local doctor’s office and arranged for me to go over on a walk-in basis. It would mean missing a class or two, but they weren’t necessarily expecting me back from the trial yet anyway.

It was a two and a half hour wait, which I spent trying to stay awake, staring at old magazine articles, and frequently trying to take a piss.

The doctor was a younger guy; I hadn’t expected that. All the family doctors back home were guys my dad’s age. This guy was in his late twenties. At eighteen, that still seemed quite a bit older to me, but it would be way easier to talk to him than to a contemporary of my dad’s.

He had thick, dark hair, conservatively cut. His height was average, as was his build, but he had a pleasant face; intelligent, friendly… just the type of face you wanted your doctor to have.

I gave him only my symptoms. If what I had wasn’t something venereal, I sure didn’t want it to sound like it could be.

He listened with a creased brow. Then he asked me stand, drop my pants, and bend over. Slipping on a thin glove, he lubed a finger and stuck it into my butt. When he pressed firmly on my prostate, I felt the biggest urge to urinate that I’d ever had in my life. “Oh, shit!” I cried out, pulling away from his hand before I pissed all over his floor and myself.

“Well,” he said, pulling off the glove. “That was about the quickest exam I’ve ever done, but I know what’s wrong. You’ve got an irritated and inflamed prostate.” He picked up a prescription pad and began to write.

I wasn’t too sure how one irritated his prostate, but I could guess. “I drank a ton of coffee yesterday,” I said trying to dissemble.

He nodded, absently.

“Does your prostate get irritated if you have a lot of orgasms in a short time?” I asked.

He cocked an eyebrow and handed me two prescriptions. “Whatever you did to irritate it,” he said. “Don’t do it again for a couple of days.”

I could feel my face flush.

“And rest,” he said. “The medicine will work quickly, but don’t think you’re magically well. Rest. No ejaculations for a day or two.”

Now I really blushed. My face felt downright hot.

He smiled, tolerantly. “How long have you been going to Trinity?”

“I just started.”

“Well,” he said, turning for the door. “You have four years to go. Don’t try to do it all at once.”

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