This story is a continuation of the story of Kevin Foley, Rick Mashburn, and their "sons," Tim Murphy, Kyle Goodson, and Justin Davis that started in "Tim" and continued in "Justin."  It is about gay men and gay boys living and loving together as a family, and it contains descriptions of sex.  The sex is never intergenerational.  If you are offended by descriptions of gay sex, or if the law in your area forbids you to read them, please exit the story.  Otherwise, I hope you enjoy it.  I appreciate feedback, and you can send it to me at

--Brew Maxwell

Kyle, Part 1

Chapter 8

All the guys had a great time on Dune Island.  The boys finally found the ruins of the fort, and they really liked that.

"I can't believe the change in Chad in the last few weeks," Mont said, as we drove home.  "He's not that little wimp anymore, is he?"

"Chad's come a long way, that's true," Rick said.  "Those five boys are really close.  They really are brothers, now."

"I've never seen anything like them before," Jerry said.

"Chad turned everybody off at first, Jerry," I said.  "He was very effeminate, and still is, but they tease him about it now.  Did you notice that?"

"Yeah, I did, Kevin, and he plays along with their teasing, too.  He even plays into it.  That is so great for him.  It's like he knows he's totally accepted by them."

"He is, Jerry," Rick said.  "By all of us.  Those boys think of him as their brother."

"It is so profoundly Christian, I can't even stand it," Jerry said.

"What does that mean," Rick asked.

"It means that's the way things are supposed to be, Rick.  Now shut up and drive," George said.

"Yes, sir, Doctor Oral," Rick said.

Everyone laughed.


When we got home, Justin asked if he could spend the night at Jason's house.  We knew what they wanted to do, and it was fine with us.  They didn't even come in with us.  They both drove their own vehicles, though.

There were a couple of messages on the answering machine.  One was from my brother who wanted to know where the hell we were.  The second one was from Gene Goodson.

"Hi, guys," the message said.  "Rita and I got a call from Jeff, Clay's boyfriend.  Clay is in the hospital, and has been for a couple of days.  We're driving down to Gainesville to see about him.  Jeff sounded pretty worried, but we're not.  I just wanted to let you know.  Y'all take care, and take care of Kyle, too, please.  Bye."

"Jesus Christ!  What is that all about," Rick demanded of me.

"You heard the same thing I did, Babe.  I don't know," I said.

"I'm sorry, Babe.  I know you don't.  It makes me nervous, though, you know?"

"It makes me nervous, too," I said.  "I'm calling George.  He might know what we can do," I said.

I called George and played the recording for him.

"Let me call some people I know down there," George said.  "That medical center is enormous, though.  Wish me luck, guys."

About thirty minutes later, George called us back.

"Hey.  It doesn't sound real good.  He's in a coma."

"What?!!"  Rick almost screamed that into the speaker phone.

"Apparently, he went in with a real bad headache Thursday.  He had had it for a couple of days, and Jeff finally made him go see about it.  They admitted him to Shands--that's the teaching hospital at the University of Florida--and they put him on a drug for the headache.  That's pretty rare that they would do that."

"So what about the coma," I asked.

"Evidently he had some kind of reaction to the drug.  His brainstem started leaking cells, and he went into the coma."  Pause.  "He's not going to make it, guys," George said quietly.

"He's not going to make it?  What do you mean," Rick demanded.

"He's going to die," George said, flat and final.

"How can he die, George?  He's a kid, man," Rick demanded.

"I know, Rick, but he's going to die.  Jeff was a basket case on the phone, and I'm sure Rita and Gene will be basket cases, too.  Is there any way you guys can go down there?"

"Where are the kids, George?  Do you know," I asked.

"Tim and Kyle are here," he said.

"Justin's at Jason's house," I said.

"Are they asleep, George," I asked.

"I don't think so," George said.

"Will you go with us, please," I asked George.

"Of course," George said.  "We can be ready in a half hour."

Rick and I hauled ass to get bags packed, to call into work to let them know we wouldn't be there the next day, and to pack some clothes.

"Take some dress clothes, okay," I said to Rick.  "They'll give you a hell of a lot more respect at that hospital if you show up in a coat and tie than they will if you're in jeans and a tee shirt.  Trust me on that," I said.

"No problem, Babe," he said.


We all drove down to Gainesville in Rick's Trooper.  George had told Kyle that his brother was probably not going to make it before we got to the Goodson house, and, needless to say, Kyle was a mess.  He hugged me and Rick like he was hanging on to us for his own life, and we cried with him over his brother.

"He's my best friend," Kyle kept saying, over and over.

Tim was totally consumed with concern and compassion for his lover.  He held Kyle gently in his arms through the whole drive.  It took us about four hours.  We called ahead to a hotel very near the hospital and booked three rooms.  We found out that Rita and Gene were staying at the same place, but they weren't at the hotel.  We assumed they were at the hospital with Clay.

We went to Shands right away.  The place was truly enormous, as George had said it was, but the lady on duty at the reception desk in the lobby was able to direct us to where the Goodsons were.

Rita grabbed Kyle in a death grip when she saw him.  Seeing Kyle made her cry again, and, of course, Kyle cried as well.

"Thank you for coming," Gene said.  "It's really bad."

We told Gene what we knew from what George had been able to find out.

"A father's not supposed to bury his boy," Gene said.  "That's just not the way it's supposed to be."

"Do they have any idea what happened," George asked.

"He had some kind of reaction to the drug they gave him," Gene said.  He named the drug, but it was something that I had never heard of.  

About that time a doctor came into the waiting room where we all were, and he asked to talk to Rita and Gene in private.  They came back in after a few minutes, and they were almost paralyzed.

"We had to give permission for them to unplug life support," Gene said.

"Can I see my brother one more time," Kyle whimpered.

"Yes, son," Gene said.  "You can go in, the doctor said.  All of you can, if you want to."

Rick, Tim, and I went in with Kyle to say goodbye to Clay.  Jeff was already in there.  Kyle very gently picked his brother's head and torso up off the bed and gave him a huge hug.  

"I love you," Kyle said.  "I'm so sorry this happened to you, Clay.  I wish I could make it un-happen.  I love you."  Kyle kissed Clay very gently, and then returned him to his resting position.  We left as Rita and Gene came in to say goodbye to their boy.  


We left the hospital around two o'clock that morning, heading for the hotel we would spend the night in.  Nobody said a word on that short trip.  Tim and Kyle went to their room after saying goodnight to us in the lobby.

"That was awfully fast," George said.  "They're going to harvest as many of his organs as possible right away, and they'll also do an autopsy tomorrow on his brain.  My God, I don't know how Rita and Gene aren't crazy."

"I know," I said.  "What a fine guy he was."

As we were talking, Jeff came into the lobby.

"Can I talk to you guys?  I don't want to be alone," Jeff said.

"Yes, absolutely, buddy," Rick said.  "Come here."

Rick hugged Jeff tightly.  In the grief that the family was experiencing, we had forgotten all about Jeff, Clay's chosen one.

"I'm sorry we forgot to tell you to come with us," Rick said.

"That's okay.  I love him so much, Rick.  He's everything to me," Jeff said.  He began to cry.

How long have you known each other," I asked.

"Almost a year and a half.  We were planning on a life together," he said.

"Did the hospital people give you any grief about being with him," I asked.

"At first they did.  Mr. Goodson lied to them, though, and said I was Clay's brother.  Then they gave me free access to him," Jeff said.

"Good for Gene," Rick said.

"Will you stay here with us tonight, Jeff," I asked.

"If you'll let me," he said.

"We can get three people in a king size bed," I said.  "Are you cool with that, Babe," I asked Rick.

"You know I am," he said.

It was almost three by the time we all got into bed.  Jeff slept between Rick and me, and we took turns holding him until he went to sleep.  We slept until ten the next morning, and we met up with everyone else, including Rita and Gene, in the hotel restaurant for breakfast.

"Jeff, you'll come home with us, I hope," Gene said.

"Yes, sir.  I'd like to," he said.

"Our boy's gone, Jeff, but I hope you'll continue to be our son."

"That's about the nicest thing anybody's ever said to me, Mr. Goodson," Jeff said.

"We know how much you meant to Clay, Jeff," Rita said.  "You are so young to have to deal with his loss.  Have you called your parents?"

"No, ma'am.  I'd rather not do that," Jeff said.

"Did they know Clay," she asked.

"They know who he is, but I really haven't spoken to my parents since I came out to them right after Clay and I started dating," he said.

"I take it they weren't supportive," Rita asked.

"That's kind of an understatement," Jeff said.  "I guess I've been officially disowned."

"Oh, Christ, son," Gene said.  "Kevin, as soon as we get home, put him on your payroll, please."

"I'll do it," I said.

Jeff was at a loss for words.

"I really don't want to leave school, Mr. Goodson.  I really can't work for you," Jeff said.

"I didn't say for him to put you to work, son.  I said for him to put you on the payroll.  There's a big difference.  You're working for me right here in Gainesville."  Gene pronounced it Gaines-vul.

"But how can I," Jeff asked.

"Don't argue, Jeff.  Just cash the check every month, man," Rick said.  He grinned at Jeff, and Jeff grinned back.  

Tim and Kyle didn't say anything during breakfast, but they each made two trips through the buffet line.  

"What happens next," I asked.

"They're probably doing the autopsy right now," George said.  "We should have the results tomorrow afternoon.  Gene, Rita, you can probably plan the funeral for Thursday or Friday."

"Do you know what he wanted, Jeff," Gene asked.

"Yes, sir.  He wanted to be cremated.  We had talked about that after a movie we saw a while back.  That's what he said he wanted."

"What do you want, son," Gene asked.

"I don't know," Jeff said.

"We have a friend who's a priest," Rick said.  "He didn't know Clay, but he knows Kyle and us.  Maybe he can help."

We finished breakfast.  Rita and Gene wanted to go back to the hospital, but they told us to go on home.

"Are you sure, Gene," George asked.  "We can certainly stay, at least until the autopsy report comes in.  I might be able to ask some questions you wouldn't think of."

"That would be good of you guys, George.  Jeff, do you think you could handle packing up his stuff," Gene asked.

Jeff didn't respond.

"If it's too soon, I'll understand.  And by the way, I want you to have whatever of his you want, okay?  I know he's got some furniture, and I want you to keep that.  Also, any clothes of his you can wear.  His computer, too.  Have you got a car?"

"Yes, sir.  An old one," Jeff said.  "Nothing as nice as Clay's, that's for sure."

"Well, keep his car, too.  It actually belongs to the business, and, since you're now an employee, you get a company car.  Forever.  We'd like to have his most personal stuff, though.  Photographs, anything he might have written of a personal nature, letters, that sort of thing."

"We'll help him sort it out," I said.  "I know the kind of stuff you want, Gene."


Rita and Gene took off for the hospital, and we went back to our rooms to freshen up.  A half hour later we all met back in the lobby and drove to Jeff and Clay's apartment.  Kyle wanted his brother's baseball glove, a couple of caps he had liked, and some of his CD's.  His "papers" were thin, indeed, and then Tim thought to check the hard drive of his computer.  He saved a bunch of files to a couple of CD's.  It turned out Clay had quite a large collection of gay porn videos that he had downloaded from one of the newsgroups on the Internet, and Kyle made Tim copy those to CD also.  

"I'm saving bandwidth, okay," Kyle said, when I said something to him about doing that.

I laughed at him.  "Mister Internet Conservationist," I said, and he laughed, too, for the first time since early the evening before.

We hung around their apartment, rather than going back to the hotel or to the hospital.  I checked in with Gene a couple of times by cell phone to see if they needed anything.

"I made arrangements with a funeral home at home," he said.  "Will you call your friend the priest?"

"I'll be happy to," I said.

I got Jerry on the phone and explained what had happened.  He was most sympathetic, and he said he would take care of all the arrangements for a memorial service at our church.  The Goodsons were Presbyterians, but they really didn't belong to a church, as such.  Jerry said he would take care of an obituary, too, and I put Kyle on the phone to give him the details.  Kyle made sure that Jerry knew Clay was also survived by his loving companion, Jeff Martin.

By five o'clock, our breakfast had long since been digested, so we called Gene and Rita about meeting us somewhere for dinner.  They suggested a place, and Jeff knew how to get there.  We met them for dinner, and the mood of the group was much lighter than it had been at breakfast.  We were all still pretty somber, but we did manage some conversation.

The next day, George went with Rita and Gene to the conference with the doctors about the autopsy.  As he had predicted, George was able to ask many pertinent questions that non-medical people would never have known to ask.  Rita and Gene were satisfied that Clay had gotten the best care that could have been provided.  The unfortunate bottom line was that the drug Clay had been given, standard treatment for a migraine, had messed up in his system.  There was no evidence that Clay had been using any kind of drugs, illegal or legal, and there was no alcohol in his system.  The drug had been administered exactly as it was supposed to be, and the doctors said, and George agreed, that there were no counter indications in Clay's medical history, which was almost non-existent, for its use.  It had been one of those terrible medical accidents that sometimes happen.

Rita and Gene were comforted by the autopsy report, but only as much as parents can be when their first-born is taken from them suddenly and without warning.  We left Gainesville Tuesday afternoon to return home to the beach.  Jeff came with us, but Tim and Kyle rode home with Rita and Gene.  

"Jeff, how old are you and Clay," Rick asked.

"He's nineteen, and I'm twenty.  He was a grade ahead of himself.  I think he skipped first grade, or something like that.  We're both sophomores in college," Jeff said.

"I hope you'll think of us as your family from now on, Jeff," Rick said.

"You guys have really been wonderful to me," Jeff said.  "I've been thinking that maybe I need to relocate to be near you.  Florida State has a campus in your town, don't they?"

"Yeah, they do," I said.  "But give it some thought before you move.  You're set up pretty nicely in Gainesville, and, as much as I hate to say it, the University of Florida can be a good place for you.  Where are you from, by the way?"

"Ft. Lauderdale," Jeff said, "but I won't be going back there much."

"It's a real downer about your parents," I said.

"Well, they did the same thing to my older brother.  He's gay, too, and they booted him out when he was a junior in high school.  I shouldn't have told them about me and Clay, but I figured they had had time to get used to the idea that people in our family could be gay.  I couldn't have been any more wrong."

"They kicked your brother out when he was a junior in high school," George asked in disbelief.

"Yes, sir.  That's when they found out about him.  It's really just my dad.  My mom didn't want to do that to her sons," Jeff said.

"If you move to the Panhandle," George said, "you can live with us."

"Oh, Mr. Murphy.  Thank you, sir," Jeff said.

"It's George, Jeff.  Or you can call me Doc, like Kyle does.  Both are fine with me, but most everybody in our circle in on a strictly first-name basis; kids, too," George said.

As it turned out, Jeff actually lived with us, and not with the Murphys.  Considering the amount of time that Tim and Kyle spent at our house, it seemed more natural.


Jerry did a wonderful job with the memorial service for Clay.  Not surprisingly, the Goodsons had a huge crowd of friends who attended, and it seemed that a very large number of Clay's friends from high school, or wherever, attended, too.  Jason was at Justin's side, and it occurred to me that Jason had been a friend of Clay's before he had ever met Justin.

Everybody went back to the Goodsons' house after the service, and Gene announced that he was establishing a full tuition, books, and room and board scholarship in Clay's memory.  It had to be at either the University of Florida or Florida State University, and Jeff would be the first recipient.  The only string attached to it was that the recipient had to be a gay male whose parents had abandoned him when they found out he was gay.

Jerry was overwhelmed at Gene and Rita's largesse, and, of course, Jeff was beside himself over it.

Gene made a point of letting all their friends know that Clay was gay, and that he and Jeff were a couple.  I had been proud of my own father all my life for many, many things he had done to help people, but I was no less proud of Gene that late afternoon.  All the good-ole-boy grammar faults were gone from Gene's speech when he made that announcement, and he was as sincere and gentle and accepting as I had ever seen a man be.

Things really didn't change for us after the memorial service and the events surrounding Clay's death.  Rick and I went to work every day and dealt with the things we had to deal with.  Kyle, with the resilience of youth, grieved for his brother for a time, but he got back into the swing of his life fairly easily and quickly.  Rita needed some counseling to deal with her grief, but she, too, got back to normal life fairly quickly.  Jeff came "home" to the Panhandle every weekend for the rest of that semester.  Rick's room became Jeff's room, and we had a house full on Friday and Saturday nights. 

Jerry became a regular member of our circle that fall, and, in mid-October, he came out to all of us.  We were all at Kyle's house for a pool party following the FSU-Duke game on a Saturday evening when he told us.  Many of us already knew, of course.  Jerry emphasized that he wasn't interested in "hooking up" with anybody because of his vow of celibacy, and I think everybody respected that.  We were a group of people who accepted everybody and anybody, with no questions asked, and Jerry really seemed to need us at that point in his life.


Mont called me the week after Jerry's big announcement.

"Can we catch something to eat tonight?  Just us?  No kids," he asked.

"It'll have to be just you and me.  Rick's out of town tonight and tomorrow night at a gift show in Atlanta," I said.

"I'd like for him to be there, too, but I understand," Mont said.

"What's the matter, buddy?  You sound pretty down," I said.

"I am.  It's about Terry," he said.  "Actually, it's about me and how much I miss him."

"Well, that's understandable, don't you think?  When your spouse goes away for a long time?"

"Of course it is, but I just need to be with a friend who understands," he said.

"I definitely understand.  Rick wasn't home last night, which was okay, but he'll be gone tonight and tomorrow night, too.  I'm going to start getting pretty lonely, too."

"At least you know where he is.  I don't even have that satisfaction.  Terry could be anywhere.  I've gotten three e-mails from him, and that's all.  He uses a Yahoo account, so I couldn't even trace where they came from.  A specialist in computer forensics probably could, but I can't.  Hell, he could have been right here in town at the Air Force base, for all I know."

"Don't fret about that.  Let's meet at 6:30 at our usual place, okay?"

"That sounds good.  I'll be there," he said, and we hung up.

Mont got us a table before I got there.  He drank very little, but that night I noticed he had a beer in front of him when I arrived.  I ordered one, too.

"So, you don't know where Terry is," I started off.

"No.  I know that the project has something to do with the Far East, but that's a hell of a big area.  It could be Japan, Korea, the Philippines, anywhere.  I guess even Pakistan.  That's considered the Far East, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I think so.  Surely he's not in combat, though, right?"

"Oh, no.  He's a weapons engineer, but he wouldn't ever be sent into combat.  He works for the Navy, but he's not in the Navy, like George was," Mont said.

"I know you guys have been together a long time.  How old were you when you met," I asked.

"We were the age of Clay and Jeff.  We were both sophomores at Tech, and it was pretty much love at first sight.  Ter was living in a dorm, but I had an apartment just off campus.  He spent more nights at my house than he did in his dorm room that year, and the next year he convinced his parents to let him move off campus.  Guess who his roommate was?"

I chuckled.

"Are your families all okay with everything?  I mean, both you and Fred?"

"They were disappointed, I think, but now they're very happy for us.  Ter's parents are divorced, but both his mom and his dad are okay about us."

We made small talk during dinner, and then we went to a movie.  I enjoyed spending the evening with Mont, and I thought he felt a little less lonely because of it.


The kids had two-and-a-half days off school near the end of October, so we decided to take them to my parents' place in North Carolina.  We decided to leave on Wednesday at noon.  It was about an eight-hour drive, so we could get there by mid-evening if we got on the road promptly.  Everybody slept at our house Tuesday night, and they had their things with them.

Rick's Trooper held five people semi-comfortably, but we would be six on the trip.  I rented a van that could hold seven passengers and that would still have room for everybody's luggage.  I picked the van up Wednesday morning, and we left the minute the guys pulled in from school.

Everybody was excited about the trip.  We had gone on quite a few outings with the boys, but that was our first road trip of any duration.

"Tell us about the cabin," Kyle asked.

"Well, it's on the outskirts of a little town called Highlands, and it's pretty high up on a mountain.  In fact, it's right at 5,000 feet, which is a little less than a mile high," I said.

"It has two stories.  Upstairs is a huge living room that has a stone fireplace in it.  There's the kitchen and a pretty big eating area with a long table that a dozen people can fit at.  There's also a master bedroom and big bathroom up there."

"Why are the living room and kitchen upstairs," Tim asked.  "That seems kind of weird."

"It's really not, though, Tim," Rick said.  "It's really ground level from where you park the car."

"I don't get it," Justin said.  "How steep is this mountain?"

"It's very steep right there, Jus," I said.  "Rick's right.  After you park the car, you walk on this little porch-like walkway to the back deck.  The back deck is on the same level as the living room level of the house, but the deck juts out over the mountain and is held up by poles as big as telephone poles.  We'll probably spend a lot of time out there.  There's a hot tub on the deck, and it's big enough for all of us to get in together."

"That sounds cool, er, hot," Kyle said for comic effect.  We laughed politely.

"Downstairs there are two bedrooms, a game room, a laundry room, and a big storage room.  You all will sleep downstairs, and Rick and I will sleep upstairs.  Y'all don't mind sleeping two to a bed, do you?"

"Very funny," Jason said.  Of the four boys, Jay was the only one who still wasn't completely used to our joking about sex, but by then he didn't turn scarlet anymore when something like that was said.

"So the cabin sleeps six people," Tim asked.

"Actually, the living room has two sofa-sleepers, and the game room has two futons that a person can sleep on.  So the house can handle twelve people," I said.

"What's there to do around there," Kyle asked.

"We have four mountain bikes, and there are great places to hike around there.  We'll explore Highlands and Cashiers and some of the other little towns in the vicinity.  There's a great mountain to climb, too, that's within a short range of us.  In the winter time we ski and snowboard at a ski place about seven miles away from there.  Oh, and there's the hot tub, too.  That's fun at night," I said.

"Do you think it'll snow," Kyle asked.

"Not this early.  This is the best weekend for fall color.  We might get some frost at night, but don't count on snow," I said.

"Did you say it has a fireplace," Kyle asked.  "I can't remember."

"It has a fireplace in the living room and a wood-burning stove in the game room.  We'll probably have to use them, too," I said.

"Oh, man, this is so cool.  Thanks for taking us, bros," Kyle said.

"Yeah, thanks," the others chirped in.

"It is cool," Rick said.  "We're going to have us a fine time.  Next time we do this we'll plan it enough in advance so that everybody can go."

"I like it with just the six of us," Justin said.  "But it will be fun with the others, too, though."

We rode in silence for a while.  The boys were checking out the scenery, and, of course, scoping out any car we passed for cute boys.  We stopped to eat around six o'clock, and we did a grocery run at the same time.  We'd have to shop in Highlands the next day, but at least we were able to buy the makings of breakfast.  For once, Rick agreed to get regular eggs in the shell, instead of the egg-white stuff we usually ate.  We got sausage and bacon, too, and bread for toast.  We bought some instant grits, milk, coffee, juice, and some pastries.  We had enough to feed breakfast to a small army.  I hoped it would be enough for at least one meal for us.

It was already dark when we got to the place.  We unloaded the van, and the kids went downstairs to check out their accommodations.  They came back upstairs where Rick and I were, more excited than they had been when we left home.

"Damn, you call this place a cabin," Justin said in disbelief.  "This is like a borderline mansion or something, to me.  Damn!"

"I had exactly the same reaction the first time I came here, Jus," Rick said.  "I was expecting something rustic, with an outhouse, maybe."  

Tim had begun exploring the closet in the living room.  It was chocked full of just about every board game you could think of.  There were several decks of cards, too.

"Does this computer work," Jason asked.

"It did the last time we were here," I said.  "Turn it on and see."

He did, and it did.

"I could live here," Jus said.  Of the four boys, he was the most taken with the place, but all of them were impressed.

"Let's go check out the deck," I said.

All of us were wearing the Florida uniform--shorts and tee shirts--and it was pretty chilly out on the deck.  I turned on the hot tub to get it ready for us.  There were flickers of light here and there. 

"What are those things," Kyle asked.

"Lightenin' bugs," Jus answered.  "Ain't you seen them before?"

"Oh, that's right," Kyle said.  "Do they sometimes call them fireflies, too?"

"Not where I come from," Jus said.

"Guys, grab some firewood from that stack, and let's go inside until the water warms up.  I'm getting cold," Rick said.

We did as he suggested, and Tim and Kyle made a fire for us.  We all sat on the sofas, snuggled up to our significant other for warmth until the fire started to take the chill out of the air.  

"I wish we had some marshmallows," Jason said.

"Ah!  Let's see if we do," Rick said.

It was usually easier to leave non-perishable food at the cabin rather than to haul it home, and it was entirely likely that there was a bag of marshmallows around the place.  In fact, it turned out there was, so we roasted marshmallows on straightened coat hangers.

"Did y'all ever have roasted marshmallows wedged between two chocolate-covered graham crackers," Kyle asked.

"Oh, yeah," Rick said.

"Those are really good," Tim said.

"We'll have to get some tomorrow," I said.

The hot tub was ready.  I told everybody to get a towel, but I suggested we undress inside.  Rick and I got undressed in our room and wrapped our towels around our waists.  The boys got undressed downstairs and paraded up with their towels draped over their shoulders.  I had seen them nude a hundred times or more by then, but I had rarely seen all four that close together at one time.

There truly is beauty in the nude male form, I thought.  

"What have you guys done to your pubes," Rick asked.

"We trimmed 'em," Kyle said.  "You like?"  He held out both arms for us to admire his pubic hair.

"We're still using rubbers," Jus said.  "Got to keep it trimmed so it don't hurt when you pull 'em off."

Jason blushed when he said that.  Justin noticed, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.  It was rather touching.

"It doesn't look bad.  I just hadn't noticed before," Rick said.

"Are you checking us out, big boy," Kyle asked playfully.  He grabbed Rick's towel and pulled it off him.

He laughed.  "I'm going to throw you skinny little ass off that deck, little boy," Rick said to Kyle.

Rick grabbed Kyle in a headlock and gave him a noogie.      

The contrast between the hot water of the tub and the chilly night air was great.  

"This makes me horny," Kyle said.

"Everything makes you horny," Rick replied.

"That's his job, Rick," Tim said.  "I like it when he's horny."

"You don't think Rick likes it when Kevin's horny," Justin asked.

"Er, guys, I know it's only us, and I know everybody gets horny, but do we have to talk about it," I asked.

"Are you afraid of popping a bone, Kev," Justin asked.

"Guys, y'all know our rule.  Sex is private.  Y'all have been really good about following that rule.  Let's don't change that, okay," I said.

"Yes, sir.  I'm sorry.  That subject just popped up all by itself," Kyle said.

"Kyyyyyyyle," I said in a warning tone of voice, and everybody laughed hard at our exchange.


That night, after the boys had go to their rooms to take care of whatever it was they wanted to take care of, Rick and I got into position on one of the sofas.  The lights were off, the light from the fire softened the room with a romantic glow, and the warmth from the fire ignited the fire in both of us.

Rick got a comforter to put over us on the floor.  He lay me on my back, and he got on top of me.  We shared a passionate kiss.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too," I replied, and we kissed again.

"Do you think it's okay in here," I asked.

"Yeah.  They're all down there fucking each other.  They won't bother us.  Besides, we're covered up."

"Okay.  I want you bad right now, Babe.  Kyle was right.  That water in the hot tub made me so horny I was afraid I wouldn't ever be able to get out of there.  As it was, did you notice everybody was at least half hard when we came inside."

"I saw that," he said.  He kissed me again, and then he let his mouth wander to my chest.  He sucked and nibbled at my nipples.  Then he pulled my briefs off and scurried out of his own.  He took my cock into his mouth, licking it, tasting it, teasing it.  My balls were next.  He drew each into his mouth and gently circled each one in turn with his tongue.  He moved to my anus, and the tender part between it and my balls.  He licked, sucked, tongued.

"I need it now, Babe," I gasped.

He used saliva to lube himself up, and he entered me effortlessly.  He ground the head of his cock into my prostate, and I felt my pre-cum spurt a little.  He brought us close and then rested.  Close again, and rest.  Finally, when I was breathing so hard and so fast I felt as though I had been running, he took us both over the edge.  We lay there joined together for a time, not talking, just loving.  His breathing sounded like he was asleep.  I nudged him awake, and we went to bed, still sticky with love.