By John Yager
This is the forty-forth chapter of an ongoing series. Thanks again for all your comments on this series.
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Over the remaining days of our Spring Break in Gulfport the relationship between the four of us reached an amazing level of affection and love. By the time we left on Saturday morning, a new and unique bond had been formed between us.
I later realized that we had become a fraternity in the truest sense of that word. We were brothers, incestuous brothers, perhaps, but there was a love between us which could never exist between members of a social fraternity brought together in what, at best, could only be called an artificial bond.
Steve coined the term `Sexual Socialism," which in many ways summed up our relationship. We were all available to each other, but we were also always on the lookout for each other. Over the next few months it was obvious that if any two of us were together without the other two, we were very aware of the other guys' needs. We wanted to be sure we were all four taken care of in every way.
When spring break ended and we had to go our separate ways, it was hard to be separated from one another even for a few days.
As our travel plans worked out, Sammy took Steve home to Jackson and I road with Daniel. Sammy intended to spend Saturday night with Steve at his parents' home and Daniel stayed over with me at my family home in Spring River.
My folks welcomed Daniel, almost as if he was a new member of the family. I wondered what Steve's folks were making of Sammy, especially after the remarks Mr. Chapman had made to me a week earlier.
After dinner, Daniel and I went for a leisurely walk around town in the cool of that Saturday evening. I pointed out the Lynn home and the high school and the church. I would have liked to go by to see Rick's folks but their house was too far to walk, clear at the other end of town, and I wasn't all that sure how they'd welcome me.
"I like it here. It seems like the All American home town," Daniel said as we climbed the steps to our front porch. It was a balmy evening and we sat for a while in the porch swing, my arm lying loosely around Daniel's shoulders.
My dad come out and sat for a while in one of the old wicker porch chairs, chatting with us about school and sports. I felt comfortable enough to leave my arm draped loosely over Daniel's shoulder, even in front of dad. I did wonder what he made of my show of affection. Maybe he just took it as a sign of close friendship between two normal, happy, straight guys. At any rate, he didn't say anything.
Later in my big old bed, were Rick and I had made love so many times, Daniel and I held each other and talked softly about the remaining weeks of the semester, wondering how our new four-way relationship would work.
Eventually, I began to kiss him, tenderly at first, but as our passions grew, with greater and greater vigor until we ended up in a sixty-nine which seemed to go on an on. We'd learned each other well enough by then to slacken our fervor as our climaxes built. Each time we approached what would have been the normal end, we slowed down, calmed down, and began again. By the time we actually let ourselves slip over the edge into pure sexual oblivion, we were both exhausted. I managed to turn around and we then fell into a happy, peaceful sleep in each other's arms.
Thank God we'd thought to lock the door. My mother knocked the next morning but she also turned the knob. When she found her entry barred, she called to us that breakfast was ready. Daniel and I were still naked and entangle and very hard.
Back at Oxford the four of us quickly laid down some ground rule which made life manageable and our relationships sustainable. Fortunately we all four had rooms to ourselves that semester so privacy was not a major issue. We were all serious about our studies and about our physical training. I began spring training the day after we returned to school.
We started off by agreeing to draw numbers, one through four. The plan was for the guy who drew number one to spend Tuesday night of our first week back with the guy who drew number three. Number two and four would sleep together. The following Tuesday we'd change partners and continue the rotation for the rest of the semester.
On the weekends the four of us would try to spend as much time together as our work loads permitted and, if at all possible, the four of us would spend Saturday nights together as a group. We tried to get away on weekends for short trips and on one occasion we got up to Memphis, were we stayed at the Lipscombs' and shut ourselves away in the guest wing for some sweet and wonderful four-way sex.
On one of those fantastic evenings, after we'd struggled and snuggled and finally ended up in a magnificent four-way suck, Sammy pointed out how well we'd adapted to being together. "At first it felt really odd," he said, "the four of us having sex together. But now it seems so natural. I guess we've just figured out the machinery."
"The machinery is important," Steve said with a grin as he stroked Daniel's cock, "but I think we just got to a greater comfort level once we realized how much we really cared for each other."
It was hard for the four of us to get together in one of the other of our dorm rooms for more than a few hours at a time on the weekends we had to spend in Oxford. The rooms were cramped but we were also really concerned about what other guys in the dorms might think was going on. We tired to cover by saying we were studying or working on some class project together. Once Steve made the mistake of saying we were having a late-night poker game, but that just led to other guys wanting to join us. The one thing we couldn't let anyone suspect was the truth. As I've said before, Ole Miss in the late sixties and early seventies, was not a place where you wanted to be considered queer.
But after a few difficult weekends, to our amazement and delight Roger Bardwell unexpectedly came to our rescue.
"I've agreed to present a series of lectures in Memphis," he told me one Monday afternoon after class. "How would you and Steve like a regular weekend house-setting assignment?"
"We'd love it, sir," I said with a grin. He knew Steve and I were always looking for someplace to be alone other than in our cramped dorm rooms. "Would it be okay if we asked Sammy Hill and Daniel Lipscomb to stay over with us?"
"Sure," he said, raising an eyebrow. "I was assuming you and Steve would like the chance to be alone but if you want them to spend the weekends with you, that's fine by me. You all four seem like responsible guys and you and Steve know the house rules. I`ll leave it to you to let Sammy and Daniel know what is and isn`t permitted."
"Yes, sir," I agreed and the deal was struck. Over the next eight weekends his big bed, and to an even greater extent, his wrestling mat, got very good use.
In the days leading up to our first weekend together at Bardwell's house Steve told Daniel and Sammy about the wrestling mat in the basement and who he and I had gotten into some hot matches on it.
"What he means," I grinned, "is that he fucked me there for the first time."
By the time Friday rolled around Sammy and Daniel were hot to trot, so to speak. We picked up enough prepared deli food to last us until Sunday evening and were at Bardwell's place by five o'clock. He'd given me the key that morning. He said he had packed and put his bag in his car and expected to leave for Memphis as soon as his last class was over, so we figured we could go on there as soon as we finished our workouts and make the most of the time we had the use of the house.
I don't think we were in the house two minutes before we had the doors locked and the window blinds pulled. Then we made a dash for the basement and stripped off our clothes. We weren't dressed again until we had to leave on Sunday and, needless to say, we didn't get any studying done that weekend.
We'd taken food down to the basement with us, all the stuff we figured we didn't need to put in the refrigerator, and were soon in a naked tangle on the wrestling mat. Our mouths and tongues were moving from salami to sausage and we were all very hot. Then Sammy, in his usual devilish way, got into a huge jar of peanut butter and we more or less lost it. Daniel stuck his fingers in the jar and then slid them over my chest and stomach and ended up smearing a huge wad of the stuff into my pubic hair and down over my raging cock.
Steve looked at what Daniel had done and grabbed me. He forcing me down on the mat on my back. Suddenly all three of them were literally devouring me. Steve was kneeling over my head with his hands on my shoulders, holding me down as he leaned over me and licked the peanut butter off my chest.
Daniel was on one side of me licking my stomach and Sammy had crawled between my legs and attacked my cock.
I was helpless, laughing until I cried from the tickling they were giving me in the process of licking my body. Then I saw that Steve's cock was hard and, by rocking my head back a little, within easy reach, so I just started sucking him.
When Daniel had cleaned my stomach he rose up, looked around at the action and dove under Sammy to suck him off. It was typical of the way sex between the four of us often went. Not that we were usually into peanut butter, but just the easy, fun, spontaneous way we loved each other.
After a few minutes Steve had my chest cleaned up and he looked up the way Daniel had done a few seconds earlier. He also wanted to see what the next opportunity might be. When he saw Daniel was lying on his back under the kneeling Sammy, he nudged Sammy off my cock and pointed to Daniel. Sammy got the point and rolled himself and Daniel to one side so they could sixty-nine. Steve then slid down a little more so he and I could also suck each other's cocks.
It didn't take long for all four of us to come and then we just rolled together like sleepy pups and relaxed for while as our bodies recovered. Steve snuggled up beside me and said, "you taste great mixed with peanut butter."
The rest of that weekend was a blast, an endless cycle of food and sex. I guess with a lot of guys our age the beverage of choice would have been beer but not for us. In about forty-eight hours we consumed almost six gallons of milk. Well, we were in training.
Other equally hot weekends followed at Bardwell's but it is that first one with Steve and Daniel and Sammy which I'll always remember.
A little tradition started between the four of us, which we think began that first weekend we were all together at Bardwell's. We could never remember for sure when it started and we could never remember which one of us started it, but once begun, it was a part of our relationship and has remained a part of our continuing friendship. It was simple, a little silly, maybe, but we stopped saying "I love you," to each other. Instead, we said, and still say, "we love you." Like I said, it's silly, maybe kind of dumb, but in a way it expresses the deep feelings the four of us hold for each other.
So the semester slipped by and we were soon making plans for the summer. The thought of the four of us being apart hung heavily over each of us but there didn't seem to be any way we could avoid being apart, at least for a while.
My father expected me home to work at the lumberyard and each of us had family commitments. We agreed we'd have to be separated but we also agreed we'd be together over the Fourth of July weekend.
We also made plans to share an apartment together the following fall. In fact, as things worked out, we shared that two bedroom apartment for the three following years and each of the following summers we contrived to remain together in Oxford for at least part of the time.
Also, during those three years we matured and developed in ways we'd never imagined possible. We each gradually saw the directions our lives would take after college and we had to gradually accept the fact that our wonderful experiment in four-way loving would probably have to end, at least as a full time thing, after we all graduated Ole Miss. As much as we tried not to think about it, the reality of separation hung over us like a dark cloud.
I'm skipping over a lot of significant events in our lives, individually and as a foursome, but I want to mention a few of very important things, things which influenced us for the rest of our lives.
The first was Stonewall. The gay riots, which some have called it the gay revolution, occurred on July 4, 1969. The four of us were together.
We'd managed to rent a cabin at one of the Mississippi state parks not too far from Spring River and by sheer chance we heard a brief mention of the riots in New York as we were driving into a nearby town on Saturday to do some grocery shopping. The coverage was sparse and its tone was scathing, yet somehow we sensed the importance of what had happened.
"This could be the beginning of something," Daniel had said.
It wasn't until the following fall that we read details of the events and got a better sense of what had happened. But we'll always remember where we were when we hard that first radio report of Stonewall and I think it was significant that the four of us were together.
Another event which changed my own life on a much more personal level occurred in the fall of 1970. I was playing in the third football of the season and had run back to make a pass when I was hit hard by an opposing player. It was a permissible play and I never blamed the other guy for what happened. Football is a rough sport and if you play it, you have to accept the risks. In any case, I was hit and fell backwards over another of my own team mate, ending up in a twisted pile of bodies. I knew as soon as I hit the ground that I was in trouble. I can't say I actually heard my left leg break, but I sure felt it.
I spent a week in a hospital in Memphis and had one operation then to repair the worst of the damage. During the rest of the term with my leg in a walking cast.
My professors let do a lot of independent work so I could go back to Memphis for a second operation before the Christmas holidays. I left Memphis for home two days before Christmas and spent another month in plaster. By spring break in March, 1971, I was walking properly again but my football career was over.
In a way, if something like that was going to happen, it was good that it happened during my junior year. The coaches and my teammates were wonderful. I was treated like a fallen hero and over the next year I was given every advantage I could have wanted.
I weighed 216 pounds at the time of the accident and the coaches helped me bring my weight down in a slow, reasonable way so I never lost muscle tone. Our trainers were concerned that I could not remain active enough to support the weight I'd built up over the previous two years and would, quite literally, go to pot. So they put me on a heavy aerobic program strengthen my damaged leg and to being my weight down to a sustainable level.
By the end of my senior year I had lost almost fifty pounds. I was slender but in great shape. I no longer looked like a football player but more like a long distance runner. I was prepared for my post college years in a way most football player never have a chance to be. I think that's why so many college football players end up in such bad physical shape by the time they are thirty. But given all the help I received, I left Ole Miss in perfect shape to start the next phase of my life.
Beyond the help I got in my recovery from the university and the athletic coaching staff, my three lovers were amazing. I never felt so cherished as I did during those awful weeks when I was in and out of the hospital, often in pain, often depressed. One or the other of them was with me at every important moment in the process of recovery.
When I had my second surgery my folk were with me for several days but they really needed to go back to Spring River to prepare for the holidays. The plan was for them to leave on Friday afternoon and for Dad to came back a week later to get me. When the time came, he drove me home, riding in the back seat of his big Buck, braced up in about a dozen pillows.
But that afternoon when my folks left, I was actually a little relieved. My mom had hovered all the time they were with me, the way all mothers do, and after a while it had begun to drive me a little nuts. So late on Friday afternoon, mom and dad left to go home and I was alone, still in some pain. By evening I was feeling very lonely in that Memphis hospital room.
My leg was out of a cast for several days after the surgery so the incision could heal, but it was heavily bandaged and strapped up with so many pulleys and weights that I couldn't move on my own. I even had to have help to pee and taking a crap was a totally disgusting experience.
Steve had been up from Oxford the day of my operation and Daniel had come up for a day later in the week, but the guys had their own classes to keep up with and I understood that they couldn't be there all the time.
So there I was alone on Friday night, feeling lonely and a little sorry for myself when all three of them, Steve, Daniel and Sammy, walked quietly in. It was after eleven o'clock and the floor was about as quiet as a hospital ward ever gets. They just looked at me and grinned. None of them said a word, but I whispered that it was after hours and they weren't permitted on the floor. I was so glad to see them I could have cried but I also knew the big bull dyke night nurse would whip ass if she found them there.
Without saying a word, Daniel and Sammy took up sentry duty by the door and Steve came over to me. He just grinned again and threw back the sheets. I have to admit that in my loneliness and self pity I had my hospital gown hiked up and I'd been stroking the merchandise, just trying to give myself a little comfort. So Steve found me already hard and he grinned up at me again before taking my whole length down his amazing throat.
Needless to say and it didn't take long before I shot a huge load down his gullet. He licked me off, rose up and smiled. The other guys came over and they each gave me big loving kisses.
"We're spending the weekend at Daniel's" Steve whispered. "Sorry we got here so late but we just got into town and wanted to give you a little tender loving care before we headed out to Germantown."
"We'll be back in the morning, pal," Sammy added and Daniel just grinned.
Then each of them whispered "we love you," and they were gone as silently as they'd arrived.
About half an hour after the guys left the Nurse from Hell came in to give me another shot in the butt and tuck me in for the night. When she'd done all her tricks and turned down the lights she smiled and whispered, "I hope that little visit you had lets you sleep real well tonight."
I guess she knew and just gave the guys time to take care of me. There was a soft heart in the old girl after all.
The guys were in and out all weekend, sometimes all three of them, sometimes just one, but I was rarely alone again until they had to head back to Ole Miss late on Sunday night.
I'll never forget all the things those three wonderful guys did for me. I will love them until the day I die.
As I was going through that strange and difficult metamorphosis, Sammy was going through a disaster of his own. Tammy, the girl from the University of Texas, had perused him with a tenacity worthy of a bulldog. The pour guy didn't know how to react to her attention and it was clear in retrospect that he never had a chance.
That makes it sound as if they'd not seen much of each other for a couple of years and then all of a sudden Tammy resurfaced. That's not the way it happened. From the spring of 1969 when we first met Tammy in Gulfport, she and Sammy had been seeing each other several times a year. They'd been back and forth for parties and dances and I guess in her mind it was a serious thing. Tammy had spent her junior year in France and we were really hoping she'd find someone else to latch onto. That didn't happen but her year abroad did delay her graduation by one year, which at least gave Sammy some time to finish at Oxford and get well established at medical school in Houston.
I don't think Sammy saw his relationship with Tammy as more then a good friendship. At that's how he saw it at first. I guess any guy can be really dumb where girls are concerned, even a gay guy, but as time went on it was more or less understood by their families that they were a couple.
I won't go into the awful details of their relationship but they were married during the summer of 1973, just after Tammy graduated from college and at the end of Sammy's first year at medical school.
By the spring of 1973, Tammy had figured out that the friendship Sammy, Steve, Daniel and I shared was not fitting and not at all to her liking. None of us were even asked to the wedding, let along asked to participate in it.
By then Tammy had confronted Sammy with her awful suspicions about us and him. He'd admitted to his "aberrant behavior," and was quickly hurried off to a conservative Christian facility to be cured. He spent about three weeks there and emerged a week before the wedding, convinced that his homosexual behavior had been deeply wrong but finally behind him.
The marriage lasted for two years, during which two daughters were born. From what I later learned those two years were sheer hell.
Sammy quickly realized that his sexual nature was less changeable than the conservative Christians had led him to believe. He was racked with guilt and an inescapable sense of failure. The marriage was a disaster. He later told me he'd throw himself into his academic work and tried to ignore everything else that was going on in his life.
I guess he couldn't ignore the truth for ever and when the damn broke his whole world was in turmoil. Before the crisis was over, in the summer of 1975 he almost succeeded in killing himself with an overdose of sleeping pills.
Thank God, Sammy survived. He and Tammy were quietly divorced and she went off with the children to live with her parents.
I will have more to say about that whole awful episode as the chronology of this story unfolds. Things did work out in the end. Sammy got himself back together, made peace with himself, and completed medical school with honors.
But in the spring of 1972, as our college years were concluding and our collective life seemed to be coming to an end. Steve and Daniel were going on together to law school at Vanderbilt. Sammy had been accepted for medical school in Houston.
I, well, I'll save that for the next chapter, suffice to say, I was off to further adventures in a new and very different world.
There is one other important episode which occured during the summer of 1972, just after my graduation from Ole Miss. I'll tell you about that in the next chapter as well, but just to whet you interest, I will say that it involved Rick.
To be continued.