Friday morning out-of-town work sessions were marginally worthwhile in the best of circumstances: people spend half their time checking on flight delays and airport transportation. Today was even worse for me, even though I was staying in Chicago for another few weeks.

 

Instead of flights, trains, and taxis, I couldn't stop thinking about my ass. And my cock. But more my ass.

 

Last night had been a nearly nonstop six-hour fuckfest with 14 of our new closest friends. My ass and mouth had been stuffed with every one of those cocks at least once. Some guys came around for a second or third helping. Many of them – at my request – were kind enough to cum on my face.

 

My poor ass had never had such a busy night, and some of its occupants, like my "husband" Luke, as well as Bobby, Tristan, and his uncle Jimmy, were all more than eight inches. Tristan, our 18-year-old bartender, was more than ten thin inches!

 

This morning my ass felt – what's the word – fantastic. I couldn't believe I wasn't the least bit sore or raw. If anything, I felt as if I could do it all again.

 

But here I was, sitting in a 14^th-floor classroom of a splendid Art Deco skyscraper. But my classroom had been remodeled and "upgraded" many times, each revision plainer, more neutral, and intellectually stultifying. It was almost enough to induce ICU psychosis.

 

The only saving grace was its windows looking south down Michigan Avenue and across the Chicago River. Of course, the windows were kept covered during sessions to prevent outshining the whining computer projector.

 

The worst part was that I was separated from my love, Lukas Vestergaard. I will be in his database management class next week. We had met only a couple of days ago at the hotel many of us were staying at, but not me. I was assigned to this training session at the last minute, so I was at a dumpier hotel a few blocks away.

 

But I was using the better hotel's fabled fitness facilities as a guest of my work friend Yoshi Hirano. That's where I met my 6'4" Danish software genius and part-time physique model, Luke.

 

Now I'm sharing a business suite with Luke, and my boss, Marcia Szabo – my boss's boss's boss – insisted I move in with him and do literally anything it takes to make him happy. Don't threaten me with a good time!

 

She felt the success of this multi-million-dollar system upgrade hinged largely on Lukas and his ability to coach our team through switching publishing systems in real time for an international print, broadcast, and online news organization.

 

Once she found out that Luke and I had a thing for each other, she told my boss back in New York that I was staying in Chicago as long as Luke was there, and I would be working at headquarters until further notice.

 

Luke and Quentin. Quentin and Luke. How did we become a couple so quickly? We have more than a thing for each other. We have a thing. We have an inseparable connection that I thought was a fantasy until it happened to me. I still think that maybe I am hallucinating the whole thing.

 

Even though we are in different rooms on different floors, we can hear each other's thoughts. I have never been so open and exposed to another person; he is equally open to me. I'm getting a boner now, thinking about him. He is chiding me for distracting him from his work.

 

We are both eager to be done with our morning sessions. Friday afternoons are travel times in my company so that out-of-towners can get back home.

 

But Luke and I aren't going home. We are going to meet up with "our boys."

 

The three teens – Bobby Trachtenberg, a 17-year-old wrestler; Tyler Pickett, also 17 and Bobby's best friend who moved in with Bobby and his dad, Robert; and Tyler's boyfriend, Charles "Chucky Cheese" Beck, a 16-year-old soon-to-be wrestler who has the prettiest green eyes this side of Andromeda – will be in our care for the next day and a half.

 

Ty moved in with Robert and Bobby when his family decided they didn't want a gay son. He and Bobby share a bed and sometimes hands or mouths. Chuck's been spending most of his time at the house, too. Tyler and Chuck hadn't had full-on intercourse until two days ago. Now they are insatiable. So is Bobby. He has a girlfriend with whom he enjoys sex but has decided he also likes sex with guys, including Luke and me.

 

My husband and I have enjoyed being with all three guys and their dad. Bobby discovered the joys of double-penetrating another guy with his dad and now wonders if he would enjoy it as much with his girlfriend, Janet. Robert, bless his heart, is all too happy to try. Robert, the sexy-as-hell wrestling coach at Bobby, Ty, and Chuck's school, is pansexual, and I feel Bobby is turning out that way, too. Good for both of them.

 

We all have fallen in love with Declan Michael Goff, whom Robert Trachtenberg is hiring as a strength coach for the school – Quad Cities Academy in Davenport. The boys decided he is their new brother and demanded he move into the Trachtenberg household. The fact that people might have a hard time believing they were brothers with the 22-year-old Declan, who is as deep Black as the boys are pale and ruddy, hasn't dawned on them.

 

The boys insisted on getting to know Declan's father, Ronan, who is set to be released from the hospital where he is being treated for Ménière Disease. Ronan can't stay alone due to sudden bouts of severe vertigo, nausea, and temporary hearing loss.

 

Another new friend, Dan Archambeau, a fitness trainer and masseur whom I met as he worked an extra shift as a barista at the juice bar in the men's lounge at the hotel's fitness facility, has agreed to have Ronan live with him until he gets cleared for surgery. Dan's father, Michel, also lives with Dan temporarily while his wife is in Europe for a few months with her girlfriends.

 

Luke and I will take the bus up to Dan's Boystown condo (the building is owned by Dan's dad, Michel, an astoundingly successful international Real Estate broker) to wait for Michel to bring Ronan, Declan, and the boys from the hospital. It's good that Michel has a 7-seat Volkswagen Atlas to haul around the group. Luke and I will use Michel's car to drive the boys home to Davenport tomorrow, returning to Chicago Sunday.

 

It was a little after 11:30 when my class wrapped up the module on mapping end-user preferences from the old system to comparable ones in the new. We decided to call it a day and release the travelers into the wild. Luke telepathed to me that he should be done with his class in about 15 minutes and suggested we meet in the cafeteria for lunch before heading uptown.

 

I stopped to talk with a few coworkers on my way to the cafeteria but had enough time to order our lunches. Neither Luke nor I were particularly hungry after the great breakfasts we had in our suite this morning. The memory of watching a 14-year-old bellhop suck and fuck Declan, then get fucked into unconsciousness by him, made my ass hungry again, even if my belly wasn't.

 

Q, when did you become such an ass slut? I decided I would embrace being an ass slut, which thought made Luke laugh out loud in his class as I shared myself with him several floors above.

 

I had just set our salads and Propel waters on a table when I saw Marcia entering the cafeteria with other mid-level executives in tow. Her casual Friday outfit consisted of a smart khaki skirt and a cotton blouse with the top three buttons undone.

 

I am a proud Gold Star Gay, but I couldn't help but admire her tits. She had told me that the money she spent on enlarging her breasts yielded a higher return in career advancement than the years and six figures she spent on two advanced degrees.

 

Some guys have Big Dick Energy. Marcia has Big Tit Energy. She didn't care whether her admirable brain or her enviable boobs got her what she wanted as long as she got what she wanted. She was assertive but not mean or uncaring in my dealings with her.

 

Marcia stopped at my table but didn't sit as she instructed a posse member to get her an unsweetened iced tea. I complimented the profile of her size four skirt and the fit of her blouse. After our frank conversations over the past few days, I didn't fear getting personal with her.

 

"Stop looking at my tits, Q," she scolded. "You're supposed to be spending your time sucking Luke's dick, eating his ass, or whatever else he wants."

 

"I can do both," I retorted.

 

"Do you think of me when Luke fucks you," she asked quietly.

 

"He fucks so good that I can't think of anything else," I told her truthfully. "That's the problem, Marcia. Luke and I have fallen in love."

 

"Oh fuckity, fuck-fuck-fuck. Why would you do that? How could you fall in love? I didn't think you had the parts," she chided.

 

"I didn't think I did either. It turns out I have a heart, and it belongs to Luke."

 

Marcia sighed and leaned in close. "I'm happy for you, Q, as much as I can be happy for anyone. But answer this question: Will this relationship affect me and my project? Are you going to distract Luke, ruin my life, AND COMPLETELY FUCK ME SIDEWAYS?"

 

She spoke loud enough that a few heads turned, so I answered similarly. "I am not going to fuck you, Marcia, sideways or any other way. Please stop asking."

 

My answer made her smile and check herself. "Jesus fucking Christ, Q. I just wanted you to be Luke's cunt boy, not pick out curtains and baby names with him."

 

I thought immediately about the boys and the idea of having children with Luke. I felt strange emotions coursing through my psyche.

 

"What the fuck, Q," Marcia said incredulously. "You're getting misty-eyed at the thought of having children with Luke? This is actually serious, isn't it?" She took a breath and looked around for a bit. "Alright, what can I do to help? Do you want to live in Denmark with Luke? I can pave the way for that."

 

She completely stunned me with her sudden change in tone. I took a moment to think. "How long would you have to wait after Luke quits his job with the vendor before you can hire him?"

 

Marcia blanched. "If I remember our non-compete clause correctly, we can't hire anyone directly from their company, but if someone quits who has been assigned to our account, we've agreed not to hire them for six months. There are some positions where it's a year, but I don't know which category Luke would fit without asking legal.

 

"Please don't tell me he will quit before the end of February, Q. I need the next few months to complete the rollout. I'm serious, Q. I will suck your cock right here in the middle of the cafeteria if that helps."

 

I laughed. "Yeah, I don't think that would do much for me. How good are you at sucking cock anyway?"

 

"I always get results," Marcia bragged. "Do you want me to prove it?"

 

"I don't think we want to see you sucking my husband's cock, Ms. Szabo," Luke said pleasantly as he approached from behind her. I think she may have peed herself a little in shock. "Unless he wants you to, of course. I'd never deny my sweetie anything."

 

Luke, of course, knew everything that Marcia and I were discussing since he could read my mind. He's the one that planted the idea of quitting his job in Denmark and taking up John "Cookie" Hamilton's offer for the two of us to join him in his Eastside Manhattan mansion.

 

"What if I suck your cock, then," She said to Luke matter-of-factly, trying to recover. I was more than 99% sure she was serious.

 

"Not today, thanks," Luke said lightheartedly. "We've got things to do. Maybe next week. Don't worry, Ms. Szabo; I do not intend to leave before completing this project. But I also have no intention of living without the love of my life."

 

"Stop your goddam crying," Marcia whispered to me in disgust. She was jealous underneath her bluster. But Luke's proclamation of love did bring tears to my eyes. Again.

 

"Whatever you need, Luke. And call me Marcia. As of now, Quentin has been reassigned to be the technical lead for database integration for this project. His job is literally to be at your side at all times. So be it if that means going to Denmark or any site visits. He is no longer tied to the New York property. He is tied to you."

 

Marcia turned to me. "You had better have your passport in order, Q. I'll have my assistant research visa requirements for Denmark and get started on an application, just in case you're going to be working there for more than a couple of weeks."

 

Luke had sat down and calmly fiddled with his salad, trying to conceal a grin.

 

"But I've got deadlines for election work," I objected.

 

"Not anymore, you don't," Marcia shot back. "I'm sure I can find a chimpanzee or two at the Central Park Zoo to fill your job just as well." She tried to be snide, but it was hilarious.

 

Luke smiled with a mouthful of salad. "Q is exceptionally talented, Marcia. Three chimps, at least."

 

I tried to pout, but we were having too good a time.

 

Marcia stood up from leaning on the table and stretched her back, jutting her gorgeous breasts for all to see. "Well, this has been an unexpected encounter." She turned back to me. "Please excuse me while I call Marty to tell him he needs to hire your replacement ASAP. I'd appreciate it if you could make yourself available to consult with your former coworkers so they can pick up your work with the least disruption."

 

"Of course I will, Marcia. Thank you for this. If you had a cock, I would suck it here and now," I joked.

 

"If I had a cock, I'd let you," she answered as she turned to go. Once again, I was 99% sure she was serious.

 

* * *

 

Luke and I enjoyed our lunch. We weren't in a particular hurry to get to Dan's condo since Michel would be picking up the boys at the University of Chicago right about now, then ferrying them to the hospital to meet Declan's dad and introduce themselves as his three new sons.

 

We figured it would be another two to three hours until Ronan got discharged from the hospital, and the crew headed up to Boystown to meet us and move Ronan into Dan's place.

 

We ate mostly in silence since we no longer needed to talk to share our thoughts and memories. Anyone who looked at us probably thought we were odd as we smiled or broke into laughter simultaneously, seemingly out of nowhere.

 

We remembered Dan's argument with his father, Michel, this morning in our suite. Most of our 14 overnight guests had left. Robert ushered Bobby, Ty, and Chuck back to their room to pack and check out before heading to the University of Chicago for the last bit of their school newspaper seminar in creative writing for journalists.

 

The four members of the Trachtenberg group decided to wear their German-made white Tanga Bag Ouvert g-strings that Dan gave us all last night, initiating us into the newly-minted International Stringers Organization.

 

The scant g-strings had mesh pouches attached to the waist string by two loops so one could slide the loops close for more length or spread them wide to accommodate shorter penises. Either way, the pouch contained one's balls, but the cutout in the top would cover only the corona, leaving most of the root and shaft of the penis exposed. This was considered beachwear in Germany but was risqué for American tastes, descended from the whacked-out Puritans.

 

Michel decided he wouldn't need even a g-string to pick up the boys and take them to the hospital before returning to his and Dan's condo. Michel is a committed and militant nudist and didn't want to hear Dan's suggestion that he couldn't move around downtown Chicago naked. He was used to being nude at his Lake Geneva enclave in Wisconsin for days or weeks at a time.

 

Michel thought he'd compromise and agree to wear his tiny g-string. Dan didn't think it would fly in a hospital, and he shouldn't wear one on the streets of Chicago either. It was a different situation for the Trachtenbergs to wear theirs to return to their hotel room or in the fitness suite.

 

"Are you embarrassed by my body," Michel asked his son with exasperation.

 

"I love every inch of your body, Dad," Dan explained. "Some inches more than others. But that doesn't mean you should flaunt it everywhere you go."

 

"I'm not flaunting," Michel insisted. "I just refuse to conceal it unnecessarily. It's a beautiful day in Chicago for October. I want to feel the sun and air on my skin before it gets too cold."

 

Dan finally convinced his dad to take along a workout shirt and shorts. The father and son wore their strings to go to Dan's office in the fitness suite to retrieve the compromise clothing.

 

"Do you think Michel will try to enter the hospital wearing only his g-string," I asked Luke wordlessly.

 

"I'm sure of it," Luke replied with a chuckle. "If they had sense, they would let him in like that. It would be therapeutic for the patients."

 

I couldn't agree more.

 

We ran into Marcia on our way out of the office. She told me I should ignore any attempted communication from my now-former direct supervisor Marty for the rest of the day. "He's pissed that I yanked you away from him. Let him simmer down before engaging him. It will be fine," she tried to assure me.

 

"I'll look forward to speaking with him next week," I joked.

 

"Just, you guys, enjoy your weekend, whatever you get up to." She looked like she wanted to ask what we had planned but was afraid I might tell her.

 

By the time we got onto the sidewalks of Michigan Ave., we had missed our uptown bus. We decided to return to our hotel suite and change out of our casual businesswear into casual street clothes. We had about twenty minutes until the next bus.

 

Our room had been returned to its previous state except for one extra king mattress left abutted to our king bed. We weren't sure how many would stay with us tonight besides Bobby, Ty, and Chuck.

 

We had given Pedro, the bellhop, and Tristan, the bartender/front-desk clerk, keys to our suite with an open invitation to bring along Pedro's dad, Luis, and Tristan's Uncle Jimmy. There could be five, nine, or maybe a few more.

 

We had also suggested to Omar Zayas, the guy in charge of our breakfast service this morning, that he and his three boys should feel free to join us whenever possible. Omar and 14-year-old Pythagoras would spend the night with Py's dad, but I hoped 15-year-old Aziz and Lars might join us.

 

I had never found myself attracted to teens before, but now I'm in love with Bobby, Tyler, and Chuck, and I got hard every time I remembered the sight of Py and Declan fucking each other this morning. I also wanted to spend time up close and personal with Aziz Sabry, the wrestler whose family moved to Chicago from Egypt a few years back.

 

Lars Moller looked similar to how Luke must have looked at 15, so I wanted to see them making love. Luke thought it odd but admitted wishing to play with the blond stud-in-training.

 

We had both stripped naked as soon as we entered our suite, as was our two-day-old custom. It was sunny and in the upper 70s, so Luke tossed me a short-sleeve pullover shirt from one of his dresser drawers. It was a pale yellow double-knit nylon.

 

"That should work on you, sweetie." He told me. I don't know if he used his mind or mouth to communicate. I pulled the thin scoop neck shirt over my head. Luke is five inches taller and forty pounds heavier than I, so the shirt that fit him well instead hung on me like a sun dress. It kept sliding off one shoulder or the other.

 

"You look sexy as fuck," he said out loud.

 

"Really? I feel sloppy like I can barely keep it on my body," I countered.

 

"That's what makes it sexy," he laughed. "You're so sexy that clothing wants to fall right off you."

 

"Is this going to be all I'm wearing," I asked incredulously.

 

"Of course not. You need to wear flip-flops or sandals," Luke said, laughing as he looked up from typing something on his phone.

 

If that's what my husband wanted, that's what he would get. I put on some foam flip-flops and looked at myself in the full-length mirror in our walk-in closet.

 

I didn't look feminine, but I didn't look masculine either. That bothered me. That fact that it bothered me bothered me even more. I was raised in a family that assumed typical gender roles and expressions. They supported and loved me when I came out but must have transmitted their assumptions about gender expression to me.

 

If it, in theory, didn't matter whether I was male or female, why should it matter that I might be mistakenly identified as female if I identified as male? Am I denigrating feminism if I prefer to be masculine?

 

Luke came over and hugged me from behind. "I didn't mean to break your mind or cause you distress, sweetie," he whispered as he nibbled my ear. "Wear whatever you want. Wear what makes you feel good."

 

That was the problem: I thought what I had on should have made me feel good. Trying to be objective as possible, I looked hot. That should be enough. Both of us laughed at my conceited self-assessment.

 

"You always look hot to me," Luke encouraged. "But you have to like it. Don't do it for me."

 

I shrugged Luke off me and turned to look at myself again. The shirt hem hung about two inches lower than the tip of my cock. My thighs (which I had been putting extra effort toward in the gym recently) looked meaty and well-defined. My left shoulder was exposed. That looked good, too.

 

When Luke stepped away to take another look, the bedside table lamp behind me shone through the thin, double-knit material. The shirt was translucent. I wondered how exposed I would be in the full sunlight.

 

For some odd reason, the idea that people might be able to see my entire body through the shirt made me more comfortable wearing it.

 

"Fuck it. I look hot. This is what I'm wearing," I declared to myself.

 

"Whatever you want, baby," Luke offered.

 

"The only problem is that there's no concealing my cock if I get a hard-on," I hesitated.

 

"Why is that a problem," Luke chuckled.

 

"You're right. Let's go before we miss another bus."

 

* * *

 

We waited about five minutes for our bus. The sun felt good. I felt naked standing on Michigan Ave. in the middle of the day. It was a breezy day, and I felt the shirt be pressed against my body, highlighting all my curves and bulges. Standing next to Luke made me not care one bit. I almost wished that a breeze would come to lift the shirt to expose me even more.

 

Luke put an arm around me and kissed my cheek. I kissed his lips for a few seconds. Our PDA was ignored by most people, admired by others, and disapproved of by one or two. Jealous assholes.

 

Luke wore a white spaghetti strap belly shirt that exposed his ripply abs from a couple of inches below his nipples to the top of his side-split light-blue running shorts. He had nothing under the shorts, so his five flaccid inches were barely concealed. He didn't care or even notice the looks he got from many admirers – both men and women.

 

The ride up to Boystown was uneventful. We had to stand in the aisle, but I could grab a pole near the side door, so I didn't expose myself by reaching overhead for a grab bar. We decided to walk the last mile instead of changing buses since it was a beautiful day and we weren't in a rush.

 

"We can stop at Fletcher the Florist on the way. I ordered a get-well/welcome home bouquet for Ronan. They said it would be ready to pick up at 1:00," Luke said. I knew that already since we shared all our thoughts.

 

We got many admiring looks as we walked through Boystown. We didn't hesitate to kiss each other while waiting for the traffic lights to change. When Luke hugged me to himself a few times, I felt my shirt lifting in the back. I was pretty sure most of my ass was hanging out for anyone to see. I didn't mind.

 

I didn't even mind when I felt a hand brush my exposed ass as we waited to cross a busy intersection. Luke had snaked his right hand under my shirt to rub my back, then glided his hand to my shoulder, hauling the shirt up with it, both front and back. My entire back was exposed, as well as my torso from my sternum down.

 

We walked three blocks that way, both of us pretending not to notice, but the warm afternoon sun felt nice on my back and ass. It took me a lot of mental effort not to get an erection, though I did chub a little bit. It was a rush being exposed. But the bigger bang for me was allowing Luke to do whatever he wanted with my body whenever he wanted. I was proud to be his guy, the guy he wanted to show off to the world.

 

Luke felt my disappointment when he finally pulled his hand away, and the shirt dropped to cover all my essential bits. "You love being my little show puppy, don't you, my love." He cooed at me, following with a kiss.

 

I got all gooey-eyed at him and smiled like the love-sick show puppy I was. We both giggled at our luck in finding each other.

 

* * *

 

Tom Wooten, who bought the flower shop recently and took on the mantle of Fletcher the Florist, greeted us as we entered. A few other customers were milling about as I wrapped my arms around the 51-year-old man and kissed him, lingering until I sensed he had had his fill. It took a while. "It's so good to see you again so soon, Quentin," he gushed, pronouncing my name with an assumed French accent.

 

Luke and Tom also kissed, perhaps even longer than I had. "Lukas, thank you for placing an order with us again. It's getting wrapped up as we speak."

 

We enjoyed a three-way hug as I told Tom that, unlike yesterday, we were in no hurry, so they should take their time. The other customers – all guys – looked at us with jealousy, as well they should. One man, a few years older than my 32 years, had a kid with him, perhaps 13. The youngster looked at both Lukas and me but kept returning his gaze to me. I smiled and winked at him, which his dad (I presumed) saw, and he smiled kindly at me.

 

Tom went to the workroom to see about another order, so Luke and I wandered the shop, looking at the flowers and home décor items on offer. The youngster led his dad to the corner of the shop where we hung out. He was a cute kid with a dimpled chin and short, straight dark hair. He was average in height and build for his age, not quite the gangly-looking pubescent phase that was probably a few months in the future.

 

When I saw how the kid looked at me, I told Luke that he probably wanted something and we should play along and be nice to him.

 

"Hi," the youngster barely got out. His voice was surprisingly deeper than I had anticipated. He must have been further into puberty than I assessed.

 

"Good afternoon, sirs," I addressed the teen and his adult. "It's a beautiful day today, isn't it?" Stick to safe topics to break the ice.

 

"Can I tell you that I like your dress? What I mean is, I like how you look in it," he stammered.

 

"Why, thank you, young man," I effused. "You can always tell me you like the way I look. But this isn't actually a dress. It's my husband Luke's shirt, which looks normal on the big galoot but fits like a dress on me. My name is Quentin Collins, by the way. And the galoot is my husband, Lukas Vestergaard. With whom do I have the honor of speaking?" I offered my hand, which the teen took awkwardly.

 

The boy looked at his father and got encouragement to keep up the conversation. "Hi, again, I guess. I'm Garrett Thistlewaite. This is my dad, David. We live just down the block with my other dad, Polo Sanchez. I'm sorry that I called your shirt a dress."

 

"You have nothing to apologize for, sir," I assured him. "When Luke tossed me the shirt, I was surprised at how much it looked like a dress. I almost took it off, but then I changed my mind. Why would it matter if I'm wearing a dress, right?"

 

David smiled. "My son seems to have a newfound appreciation for men in skirts or dresses. But he is reluctant to try wearing a dress yet."

 

"It takes a bit of courage," I agreed. "Maybe you can try wearing one around the house and see if you feel comfortable. Then you can go out in public later. You don't have to do it all in one giant step. Take your time and find your style."

 

"This would be the perfect garment to take your initial step," Luke offered. Then he turned to me. "Arms up, sweetie."

 

I knew what he intended but didn't hesitate to follow his command. Luke grabbed the shirt by the shoulders and pulled it off me, leaving me standing naked in the shop except for my flip-flops.

 

"Here, maybe you'd like to try this on," Luke offered the garment to the youngster. Both he and his dad were shocked to see me naked, but I was genuinely unphased, standing relaxed and smiling. Three days ago, I would have been mortified in a similar situation.

 

"It will look even looser on you than on me," I observed unastutely.

 

Both David and Garrett looked me up and down. "Look, dad, Quentin doesn't have any hair either, just like you."

 

I smiled at that unsolicited bit of information. "I've had all my hair from the neck down lasered off over a few years. I like being smooth."

 

"I help Dad use a cream, even though it burns his balls," Garrett offered, eliciting a blush from David.

 

"I used to do the same. The laser can burn, too, but once it's done, it's done. It takes a few sessions until all the follicles are neutralized," I answered, trying to put everyone at ease.

 

Luke lifted his shirt to show his smooth chest, then pulled down the front of his running shorts to reveal his hairless genitals. "I've done the same thing," he noted. "But it's a little easier for me because my hair is darker than Q's, so the laser is more effective. With your dark hair, David, it should be even easier still."

 

David didn't answer because he was distracted by Luke's beautiful penis and balls. Luke kept his shorts lowered as long as the two wanted to look.

 

I decided to encourage them. I looked Garrett in the eye and said, "I bet Luke feels smoother than your dad since Luke got lasered. Feel and tell me the difference."

 

I tried to telegraph to Garrett that I knew he would know what his dads' genitals feel like and that there was nothing untoward or unnatural about that. It worked perfectly. Garrett immediately rubbed Luke's public bone and lower abdomen, then cupped his scrotum, freely feeling around with both hands. He was ecstatic.

 

It took David a few moments to register what was happening. When David started to look shocked, Garrett turned to him with excitement and said, "Dad, feel Luke's balls. They're so much smoother than yours or pop's."

 

No sooner had the teen said that than his hands were on me, making room for his dad to feel up Luke. Luke and I tried not to laugh out loud, but we were having so much fun with the eager teen and his horrified dad.

 

Garrett's fingers were clammy. It wasn't the most erotic groping I ever had, but I was happy to give the boy a new experience. I was pleased that David took Garrett up on his invitation to feel up my husband. No sane person would turn down an opportunity like that.

 

Luke and I silently agreed that we would allow ourselves to get tumescent, if not fully erect. I must say that Garrett knew how to manipulate a penis once I started growing. He treated my cock like an unexpected treasure found in an antique shop, except my cock, at 32, is not an antique!

 

I filled out to my full six inches (and just a little more) as Garrett looked thrilled and mesmerized by his handiwork. David had gotten Luke to about 8 eight inches sticking straight out. Luke and I determined that we wouldn't take things too far. Perhaps we had done so already? But David and his son Garrett were having fun, so what was the harm?

 

Garrett finally tore his gaze away from my cock and looked into my eyes. His blushing smile was too cute to resist. I touched his shoulder and leaned down the 8 inches needed to get to his ruby-red lips. He reciprocated to the best of his abilities. He had some work to do honing his kissing technique.

 

He let go of my balls but kept rubbing my cock. I felt his other hand move around to my ass, caressing, squeezing, and tickling as we kissed. I was happy to make my body available for his exploration. The more experience he gains, the better.

 

We kept at it for a few minutes until I heard David say, "I think we should move on, Garry, before we make nuisances of ourselves. I'm sure Luke and Quentin have places to go and people to see."

 

Garrett reluctantly broke our kiss and removed his hands from my body. We both looked at my erection to see a nice drop of precum on the tip of my cock. I smiled and nodded almost imperceptibly, but enough for him to know he had permission to taste it.

 

The young man took the head of my cock in his mouth and swirled his tongue around. I could feel more precum being delivered for his consumption. Poor Garrett willed himself to relinquish my cock. He smiled lasciviously at me as he licked his lips, then kissed me sweetly. "Thanks, Quentin. You taste really good, just like dad. And thanks for being nice to me. I know I'm not very good with this stuff." He trailed off.

 

I chuckled. "I'm glad that you were pleased with my offering. And, Garrett," I cupped his chin to force him to meet my gaze, "Don't sell yourself short. You gave me a very nice erection. That didn't happen on its own. Just keep practicing with your dads, and you'll be an expert with `this stuff' sooner than you think."

 

Garrett's face brightened. I kissed his forehead and thanked him again for a lovely time. "I'm delighted to have met you and your charming father. I hope we run into each other again."

 

David also kissed Luke and me, thanking us profusely for being nice to his boy. We assured him honestly that being friendly to such a sweet young man was no chore. Luke patted Garrett on the back and said, "I hope you enjoy the shirt. I bet it will look better on you than on Q."

 

"You mean I can keep it? Thanks, Luke. But what will Quentin wear," he asked, suddenly realizing that my nakedness might be an issue.

 

"We'll come up with something, young Master Thistlewaite. Don't you worry about that," Tom offered, surprising us all. He seemed neither concerned nor surprised to find a naked man in his shop. I wonder how often it happens?

 

Garrett grinned at the florist. "See you later, Mr. Wooten. Remember, dinner is at 7:00. I love you! Look, Quentin literally gave me the shirt off his back! He's really nice."

 

"I love you, too, my boy — more than I can say. I'll see you tonight," Tom said with a tight hug and tender kiss on the forehead. "Quentin and Luke are both very nice. You deserve to have nice men like them in your life."

 

"I love you, Tom," David added, kissing Tom's cheek. I heard him speak into Tom's ear, "It seems you were right about Garrett's leanings. Well done, you! Don't forget your toothbrush and slippers."

 

Well, well. Tom will spend the night with David, Polo, and Garrett. One wonders how involved Garrett will be in the night's activities. Good for all of them.

 

I am too much of a gentleman to have let on that I heard any of what I heard, pretending to be preoccupied with something in the shop. "They seem like a nice family," I proffered once the father and son left the shop.

 

"They are an exemplary family," Tom gushed. "I've known Polo since he was Garrett's age. He is like a nephew to me. Perhaps even closer. He and David have been together for ten years since they met at Purdue. They adopted Garrett, David's biological nephew, three years ago when he was ten.

 

"His poor mother has some chronic mental health issues that left her unable to care for the boy the way he needs. I was honored to be asked to be Garrett's godfather and legal guardian to backstop his dads. I've loved him since I met him, and I am happy that he is finally confident that he will always have someone to love him and look after him."

 

Tom wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. I kissed his cheek and hugged him, forgetting I was naked in his store, until I felt his hand slide over my ass. "To paraphrase Cole Porter, `He'd be so easy to love.' I think I fell in love with him, too."

 

"Even before he sucked your cock," Tom asked as he spanked me.

 

I laughed but answered honestly, "Yes, before that. I wouldn't have let him do that unless I loved him. He seems like a thoroughly lovely boy. Otherwise, it would have been inappropriate."

 

Tom pressed his mouth to mine. "You're a very lovely boy, too. I'm sure Garrett would love to add you and Luke to his circle of playmates. He keeps himself quite busy, as you may have guessed. He is lucky to have a family encouraging his activities and curiosity."

 

"We'll do our best to keep in touch while we're in town. But we are quite busy this weekend." I told Tom all about our boys and our impending drive to Davenport. As I was doing so, I noticed Luke removing his clothing, standing naked except for his canvas sliders. He told me he didn't want me to have all the fun.

 

The five or six customers in the store made an effort to be discrete in their looking at us, bless their hearts. We walked around the store casually with Tom to demonstrate that we didn't care if they looked at us or not. I decided to be naughty and squeeze past an older gentleman as I mumbled something about the aisles being too narrow. The man, well into retirement age, didn't mind my pressing my ass against him as I took my time moving down the aisle. We both had fun.

 

I asked Tom if he thought we could get away with walking naked to Dan's condo from the shop. He thought it wouldn't be a problem but suggested that his assistant Sean might have a suggestion.

 

Tom called Sean – whom we met yesterday – from the workroom. He is about my age, with a thick mop of lustrous curly black hair cascading over half his face and heavy-rimmed glasses.

 

Sean's face lit up when he saw Luke and me standing naked, talking with Tom. "Well, well, you two get better by the day," he said, rushing to hug and kiss each of us.

 

After a few moments, Tom interrupted. "Sean, do you remember discussing your fantasy wedding trellis the other day? We may have found some models to experiment on."

 

Sean looked confused for a bit, then smiled broadly. Tom explained to him that we were contemplating walking naked to Dan's condo but thought some covering might be prudent.

 

Twenty minutes later, we stood in the workroom as Sean and Tom finished securing floral garlands to us. Luke and I were mirror images of each other. The garlands were built on cores of soft woven cords with carnations, roses, baby's breath, lisianthus, and several other delicate, brightly-hued blooms attached.

 

Mine was tied to my right ankle with a white ribbon, then wound around my leg before crossing over my penis, wrapping around my torso, and finally hanging unsecured over my left shoulder, ending a few inches below my left ass cheek.

 

Luke's was identical but secured to his left ankle and spiraled in the opposite direction. Sean added more flowers to Luke's to cover his larger penis.

 

I couldn't decide whether we looked ridiculous or cute as fuck. When I saw Sean step back to admire his handiwork and grab his crotch repeatedly, I landed on cute as fuck.

 

* * *

 

I often forget I am naked since it's my default state at home. Even today, I felt perfectly comfortable standing naked among the other customers at the flower shop. But this garland made it difficult to forget that I wore no clothing. Every movement made the cord or a flower petal brush my skin somewhere, reminding me of its presence.

 

I was sure the colorful garlands would attract more attention on the street than if we had just walked naked. We were about to find out.

 

Sean rang us out for Ronan's get-well arrangement. We insisted on paying for the garlands, but Tom and Sean refused, saying it was "market research." When I tapped my phone on their scanner, I added a $200 tip to the $163.50 bill. "That will show them," Luke laughed into my brain.

 

I carried the arrangement as we stepped into the bright late summer afternoon – it would be autumn in less than two weeks. Luke had his clothing and our phones in a fancy Fletcher the Florist gift bag. We agreed that the sun felt splendid on our naked skin and that the garlands were surprisingly comfortable. I didn't expect the repeated tapping on my ass of the end of the garland hanging freely over my left shoulder.

 

Tom decided to make small arrangements featuring Gerbera daisies to cover our insteps to save us the horror of not wearing matching sandals. Those foot corsages were the most uncomfortable part of our almost-outfits.

 

We tried to converse casually and pretend nothing was unusual about two men walking through Boystown naked, save for a string of flowers. But the head turns, pointing, and frequent requests to stop for photos and selfies with bystanders made that impossible.

 

We were happy to oblige, and everyone was polite and respectful. A few people just wanted photos of the two of us. We usually kissed for them, sometimes with one of us with our back three-quarters turned to the camera so they could see our naked asses.

 

About halfway through the seven-block walk from Fletcher's to Dan's condo, we were waiting to cross at an intersection when I saw a police officer on the other corner gesture for us to approach him. Shit!

 

When we got face to face with him, my heart was ready to explode through my sternum. He took off his aviator sunglasses, looked me up and down with his steel blue eyes, then gave Luke the same treatment. "Sean at Fletcher the Florist, right?"

 

"No, sorry. I'm Quentin Collins, and this is my husband, Lukas Vestergaard," I spat out, unable to keep from being impudent.

 

"Correct," Luke answered for me with a relaxed smile, ignoring my comment. He looked down an inch to meet the 6'3" policeman's eye. "His reputation precedes him. And please forgive my husband. He is a smartass by nature."

 

The cop looked at my ass. "That's saying a mouthful," he offered with a crooked smile that should have been menacing, but I found sexy as hell. The wink that followed told me that his choice of idioms was deliberate.

 

"Sean's a piece of work. But he does nice work, too," the officer continued. "You guys would have attracted only a fraction of the attention if you had just walked around naked."

 

"Would that have been an issue," Luke asked.

 

"Not if walking was all you were doing," he said. "Anything else, and we'd be having a different conversation right now. You two wouldn't even be the first ones today. Can't say I blame anyone on a day like today."

 

"You should join us," Luke chirped.

 

"Believe me," the officer said, finally relaxing, "In half an hour, when my shift is over, everything's coming off."

 

I looked at his badge and nametag on his muscled chest. "Well, Officer Nowicki, please join us at our friend Dan's condo for an afternoon on the top-floor patio. We're having a small casual gathering, and we would love for you to join us. I insist. Do you know Dan Archambeau or his father, Michel?"

 

The policeman thought for a moment, then said he didn't. I gave him the address as well as the code to the lobby door and told him the fourth-floor condo would be standing open to welcome everyone. "They're kind of new to the neighborhood, so I know they will be thrilled to make your acquaintance."

 

I wanted to see more of – or all of – Officer Nowicki regardless of what anyone else wanted. Luke read my mind and agreed with me.

 

"I know that building. It sat half-finished for a few years, but somebody new bought it and put a lot of money into finishing it right. It looks great," Nowicki opined. I allowed that was all Michel's doing since he bought the building last year. I told him we met Dan at the hotel, and he is a fitness trainer and fantastic masseur.

 

"He sounds like a guy I should get to know," the officer said with another smile, this time as sweet as possible.

 

"You'll fall in love with him as quickly as we did," I added. "He's as kind and gentle as he is handsome and strong. You owe it to yourself to get to know him."

 

"That's saying a lot, considering you have this guy for a husband," he said, not trying to hide his assessment of Luke's body.

 

"You don't have to remind me how much I married up," I laughed. "We'll see you soon. Don't forget the door code."

 

"Thanks, guys. I'll be there. By the way, the name is Ted, not Officer Nowicki," He said, genuinely happy to make a new friend.

 

"I suppose I should wait to kiss you until you're off-duty," Luke said.

 

"That would be best," Ted agreed.

 

"Hurry!" Luke encouraged Ted as he took my arm and led me away.

 

I turned to smile goodbye to Officer Nowicki, only to see him eyeing my ass again. I reminded myself I would embrace being an ass slut, so I smacked my buttocks and swished away.

 

We stopped several more times to entertain selfie seekers over the last three blocks of our walk. Again everyone was polite and good-natured about our appearance.

 

* * *

 

As Luke entered the door code to unlock the condo building's lobby, I thought about Dan's discussion this morning with Michel. I had laughed at the absurdity of Michel thinking he should spend the day naked while doing his business in Chicago. Now I would side with Dan's father. We weren't exactly nude, but we might as well have been. And Officer Nowicki told us there had already been other naked pedestrians enjoying what would likely be one of the last warm afternoons of the season.

 

We took the elevator to the fourth floor of the Buckingham Place building and exited to see Dan's condo door standing open, as I told Officer Nowicki it would be.

 

We stepped into the modern condo, and I put the flower arrangement on the dining room table for now. Luke put the bag with his clothes and our phones behind the Vladimir Kagan sofa. We left our sandals and foot corsages there, too.

 

Luke and I adjusted our flower garlands and stood with our hands on each other's asses. Dan was out of sight, but we heard someone moving around. Luke called out, and Dan said he'd be right there. When he came into the living room, he stopped and smiled. "Oh my god, you guys are too much. Let me grab dad's camera!"

 

I had forgotten that Michel is an avid amateur photographer besides being a successful globe-trotting Real Estate broker. Some of that talent must have rubbed off on Dan. He took a dozen photos of us in various poses, including kissing and unwrapping each other.

 

It was effortless to remove the garlands since they were affixed to our bodies only with the ribbons at our ankles. We were finally wholly and utterly naked, as was Dan.

 

Luke offered Dan the garlands to use for decorations. He thought that was a great idea and hung them under a patio umbrella on the large porch that spanned the width of the 34-foot-wide building. The porch was about 20 feet deep but had a roof only over the five feet closest to the glass doors leading to the living room and another set at the other end leading to the main bedroom.

 

The sun felt splendid on our bodies. Most buildings on the other side of the street were only three floors, so we were not concerned about neighbors spying on us. Not that we would have much cared anyway.

 

We asked Dan how we could assist in getting ready for Ronan and the gang. He said he was about to put fresh sheets on the Alaskan King bed and would appreciate assistance maneuvering around the 9-foot square bed. "It can take me 20 minutes to do this by myself till I get done tucking and tugging," Dan confessed. The three of us got it done in about five minutes.

 

"What's next," I asked as we returned to the living room. "Is there any food prep I can do?"

 

"Nope. Everything is on trays and ready to go," Dan said. "The only thing left is to make out until more people arrive."

 

"I like how you think," I said, rubbing my hands together. "Oh, but speaking of other people arriving ... ."

 

Luke and I told Dan the story of our visit to Fletcher the Florist, meeting Garrett and David, and then our encounter with Officer Nowicki as we walked over. "He should be arriving in about ten minutes, I reckon," I reckoned.

 

"The more, the merrier! I'm sure he will be a good fit for the group if you guys think he will be," Dan said happily. "And I will have to ask Tom about the Thistlewaites. It sounds like dad and I will have much in common with them."

 

I remembered Dan telling us about how he and his twin brothers, Sebastien and Henri, three years his junior, grew up observing and participating in sex with both their parents from an early age. Dan knew that he much preferred sex with men before he was a teen, while his 18-year-old brothers are still figuring out whether they like one gender over the other. They might end up bisexual or even pansexual, like Robert and Bobby Trachtenberg.

 

We had spent only a few minutes cuddling and kissing when Dan got a text from Michel saying they were leaving the hospital and would be at the condo in 30 minutes. We had thought they would be at least another hour.

 

Just as we settled into a three-way kiss, I saw movement at the door and spotted Officer Nowicki enter, still in uniform. I was happy he actually showed. I had my doubts.

 

We disentangled ourselves and approached him to introduce Dan. Ted looked very happy to meet Dan and vice versa.

 

"I've seen you patrolling this area many times," Dan exclaimed. "I've been tempted to say hello often, but I'm never sure whether it would be welcomed or intrusive. Please, make yourself comfortable."

 

Theodore Nowicki removed his cap and shook Dan's hand. "Now that we've met, I expect you to say hello every time. But, before we go any further, I have to have a place to secure my sidearm. If there isn't a place here, I'll go home and come back later."

 

"That won't be a problem, officer. We have a – ."

 

I cut off Dan before he could say anymore. "Dan, why don't you keep that information between you? Luke and I don't need to know the location and nature of your secure storage."

 

"But I love and trust you completely," Dan insisted.

 

"Thank you, my love. We love and trust you, too. But, regarding firearms, I'd just as soon not know anything."

 

Luke grew up in a family of hunters, with all the adults in his family having gone through Denmark's strict and thorough licensing process, so he wasn't as squeamish about guns as I was, but he understood my concern.

 

"It's probably for the best," allowed Ted. He and Dan disappeared down the hallway of the three-bedroom condo.

 

When they returned a few minutes later, Officer Nowicki had apparently secured his weapon and clothing. He and Dan were holding hands as they reentered the living room. "May I present Ted Nowicki," Dan announced formally, "Our new, very good friend and neighbor."

 

I took a moment to appreciate the well-built 6'3" man. He was about as muscled as Robert, with even bigger pecs but slightly more thickly set. He sported dark brown body hair that was moderately trimmed. His balls and bush looked shaved clean, which was easy to tell because he wore a red neoprene cockring and ball stretcher. His thick, cut cock hung mostly flaccid, about seven inches long. The man was most impressive.

 

"Hello, Ted," Luke and I started simultaneously. I gestured for Luke to go first. He greeted our new friend and kissed him. Their hands traveled over each other as their tongues investigated each other's flavors. I got hard watching my 6'4" brute of a husband make out with the 6'3" muscle daddy cop. Dan wasn't far behind me.

 

I waited impatiently for my turn, but Luke had transmitted everything he felt and tasted to me, so I didn't feel excluded. When they separated, they sported full erections, Luke at 9" and Ted at about 9.5."

 

I pressed my leaking, throbbing six inches against Ted's baton as I reached up to embrace him. His mouth tasted as good in person as it did through Luke's telepathy.

 

When Ted and I finished, Dan took over. His foreskin was already pulled back on his 7.5" erection. I leaked more precum as Luke held me from behind, sliding his cock up and down my crevice. I wanted to fuck myself on all three men simultaneously. Luke read my mind and whispered, "Ass slut" into my ear.

 

We calmed down and spent about ten minutes explaining to Ted about Ronan, Declan, Bobby, Tyler, and Chuck. Ted told us how he joined the Chicago PD two years prior when he was 24. He just started foot patrols in Boystown this past summer. He enjoys almost all aspects of his work in the gayborhood but hasn't let himself initiate relationships with area residents until now.

 

"You've started with the best," I told him, referring to Dan and Michel. We reclined on the V-shaped sofa, with Luke and I snogging while Ted and Dan nuzzled, kissed, and stroked penises to get to know each other.

 

* * *

 

We heard the whir of the elevator doors opening and the excited chatter of the boys. We got to our feet to welcome Dan and Michel's house guest. Six naked men came strolling through the door. Michel carried what I presumed to be Ronan's duffle bag.

 

It took several glances back and forth before I determined which stacked, cut, hot-as-hell Black bodybuilder was Ronan and which was Declan. They could have been identical twins! How had I never considered how much Declan would take after his father?

 

I was surprised to see Ronan naked since Dex told us his dad kept telling him he would have to give up his nudist ways to get a "real" job. Not that I was going to complain.

 

Michel looked at Ted, then at his son, noticing both their hard, wet cocks. A sly smile overspread his face. "I thought we were bringing the party, but I see you've gotten a head start."

 

Michel set down the duffle and wrapped his son in a warm embrace, and the two shared a minute of deep, passionate, sloppy kissing. "Now, introduce me to our new friend," Michel panted, presuming Dan would share every friend and lover with him.

 

Dan introduced Ted to the group as Michel stepped to the newbie's side and used his right hand to examine Ted's cockring/ball stretcher. "Thank you for dressing up, Ted. It's a sign of a good upbringing."

 

We laughed as Michel moved to welcome Ted to the group, kissing him even more sloppily than he had Dan. Ted was taken aback for a few seconds but quickly became an enthusiastic participant. When Michel was done, he motioned for everyone's attention.

 

"Ted, Dan, Lukas, Quentin," Michel began, indicating to each of us, "I'd like to introduce another new friend and our guest for the next few weeks or months, or, maybe forever, the Honorable Ronan Michael Goff."

 

Michel took this put-upon formality to a new level with "The Honorable" schtick. It was cute and an excellent way to make Ronan feel welcome.

 

"Judge Goff? What are you doing here?" Ted exclaimed, flabbergasted.

 

Holy shit.

 

Ronan looked at Ted for several seconds. "Officer Nowicki, is it? I'm sorry if I got your name wrong, young man. It's been several weeks since you've been in my courtroom. It's a small world, isn't it?"

 

"You remembered my name exactly, Your Honor. I never in a million years would have expected to see you here. I would have never in two million years expected that such a spectacular physique was hidden under your robes. You look astounding, Your Honor," Ted blurted.

 

"Thank you for the effusive praise. Should we agree to forgo the formal honorifics and titles when we're out of uniform? How about you call me Ronnie, and I'll call you Ted? Would that be acceptable to you?"

 

Ted was still trying to process the new information. Most of the rest of the group was trying to process that we had a cop and a judge of some sort in our midst. I guess the lack of disclosure about Ted was my fault.

 

"Yes, Ronnie, I think we can be less formal, considering the circumstances," he chuckled. "It might take a little getting used to."

 

"For me as well," Ronnie agreed. He walked over to Ted and put his hands on Ted's hips. "Hi, Ted, I'm Ronnie. It's nice to meet you." Ronnie tilted his face up to close the two-inch difference in their heights.

 

Their kiss took about 15 seconds to move from tentative to ravishing. I thought blood might have been drawn from how they clawed at each other and bit each other's lips.

 

It seemed that Ted and Ronnie might go on for the rest of the afternoon, so I moved to Dan's side and whispered, "How about we get the snacks and drinks out to the patio so we can enjoy the sunshine? The two lovebirds can join us when they're ready."

 

The rest of the group moved away from the kissing duo when they saw Dan and me going to the kitchen. Dex and Michel took Ronnie's bag into the main bedroom while Luke asked Bobby and Chucky Cheese to follow him to the patio to arrange whatever furniture needed to be moved.

 

Tyler followed us into the kitchen and offered assistance. Dan directed operations as I removed bins and trays of goodies from the refrigerator. Tyler's first task was to fill an ice bucket and take it to the patio with another bucket of slushy ice to put in the bottom of Dan's buffet server. The server is refrigerated, but chilled water is much more efficient for keeping the bins cold than chilled air.

 

The 17-year-old returned with a sly smile. "Teddy and Ronnie are still making out in the living room," he reported. "They have no idea the rest of us left the room. They probably don't even remember we exist."

 

"That's so sweet. They seem to have had an instant connection. But that's what happened with Luke and me," I reminded Ty and Dan.

 

Dan's father walked into the kitchen, holding hands with Dex. "Do you think we should ask Ted to move in," Michel asked. I couldn't tell whether or not he was joking.

 

Dex added, "I've never seen dad like this. He has never asked anyone to call him Ronnie – it's always been Ronan or Ron. They're out there now humping each other. I'm pretty sure they're both going to cum soon."

 

"Let's show them how it's done," Michel suggested as he tugged Declan's hand.

 

Dan and I had prepared several bins of fruit salad, crudité, turmeric-infused yogurt, tossed greens, hummus, guacamole, peanut curry, salsa, etc., to carry to the buffet. We each took several bins on large serving trays. I saw the flower arrangement Luke and I had gotten for Ronan sitting wrapped on the dining room table and made a mental note to make sure we give it to Judge Goff if he ever rejoins our dimension again.

 

Ted and Ronnie looked like they were trying to meld into each other. Michel and Dex were having fun while making out and frotting, but it was obviously an act of passion for the former and recreation for the latter – both excellent reasons to make out with a handsome man.

 

Luke and the boys had the patio looking festive, arranging tables, chairs, and a few double chaise lounges. The loungers were laid flat and draped in bed linens that Luke had found in a teak cabinet in the corner. The cabinet doors stood open to reveal more linens and a dozen or more beach towels. The Archambeau household was prepared to party!

 

Chuck kissed Dan, who got lost in Chuck's emerald eyes – as we all do. "Dan, we can't find the lube. Also, do you have any dildos or butt plugs, in case someone wants some?"

 

A few days ago, I would have been knocked back to hear a naked 16-year-old asking for lube and sex toys, but now it was as if Chuck were asking for a glass of water.

 

"Sure, Charles," Dan answered while rubbing Chuck's ass. "There are different kinds of lube in both the bedside tables, and you can find some toys in the top two dresser drawers opposite the foot of the bed. There might be others in the chest by the bathroom door. Just look around and open everything, but please don't rumple dad's clothing. He's very particular about how his wardrobe is stored, which is odd considering he hates clothing."

 

Dan and Chuck kissed again, then Chuck grabbed Tyler's hand, and the boyfriends skipped through the living room searching for sex aids – just a typical Friday afternoon.

 

* * *

 

Chuck and Tyler returned with five bottles of lube – water-based, silicone, coconut oil, and several dildos and butt plugs. They also had an assortment of fur-lined leather cuffs, harnesses, blindfolds, and even a paddle. Well, well.

 

"Oh, it looks like you found a lot of goodies," Dan said, laughing but not betraying a hint of embarrassment or discomfort. "Have you guys ever used things like this?"

 

Tyler looked a little embarrassed. "I was a virgin two days ago, remember? I'm not even sure what you would do with some of this. We found these in a bin in your closet. I'm sorry if we shouldn't have done that."

 

Dan hugged Ty and kissed his cheek. "Two days ago seems like an eternity ago, Ty. You've come such a long way since then. I'm very proud of you – of all you boys.

 

"As far as my closet is concerned, I told you to look everywhere. Dad and I have nothing to hide from the people we love. We can play with some of these toys whenever we want or not at all. It's your call."

 

Ty wrapped his arms around Dan, happy at his friend's encouragement. "I love you, Dan," he croaked.

 

"I love you, too, Ty. I hope we get to visit each other often. Now that you know where I live, I expect you here whenever you can make it. Don't forget the door code! Dad and I are going to come to Davenport, too. I promise."

 

Chuck joined in a tight hug with his boyfriend and the massive, handsome trainer. I teared up at how freely these men shared themselves. Luke kissed my cheek. "I love how moved you get from seeing our friends happy and loving. Your heart is wide open, Q. Don't ever let that change."

 

Now tears were running down both cheeks. I couldn't imagine being any happier.