Michel Archambeau returned from the bedroom, where he escorted Ted, Ron, Garrett, and Pythagoras so the group could fit Ted and Ron with matching black cockrings. They would be the only thing the couple would wear for their wedding.

 

The expression on Michel's face was serious – quite the opposite of the frolic he was enjoying just moments ago. He approached Ron's son, Declan, and spoke loud enough for most of us to hear. "Dex, your dad started having ringing in his left ear that has progressed to a bout of vertigo. He asks that you join him while he sits quietly and still."

 

We all naturally stopped what we were doing and became concerned. I had no idea how long these vertiginous spells typically lasted. Ron is waiting to be scheduled for surgery, which his doctors hope will relieve him of his Ménière disease symptoms.

 

The diagnosis is why Ronan agreed to move in temporarily with Michel and his son, Daniel, while Declan moves to Davenport to start his new position as a conditioning coach at Quad Cities Academy for Boys. Declan feared leaving his father alone. That fear has been alleviated on multiple fronts now that Ronan is about to marry Theodore Nowicki, is living in the Archambeau condo, and has a group of friends lining up to volunteer to spend time with the splendidly developed 44-year-old 210-pound bodybuilder who is a Cook County judge for his day job.

 

Declan hurried into the bedroom, knowing there was nothing to do except ride out the vertigo. He told us that many of the episodes are relatively mild. But sometimes, they are nausea-inducing and debilitating, resulting in headaches and fatigue. We were all hopeful this one would be short and mild.

 

The guests fretted quietly while Polo and his catering team continued as quietly as possible to finish their preparations for the party, and Sean and Tom set the last of the floral arrangements. The third floral designer, Megan, was packing to return to the shop for the Saturday morning rush.

 

Tom moved to the condo door to greet guests with floral lais if they wanted one. He was supposed to be joined by young Garrett, Polo's adopted son, who was the flower boy for the wedding, but Garrett remained in the bedroom with the grooms.

 

***

 

Three men arrived from the stair hall and elevator lobby. They weren't wearing clothing, but I didn't notice Gael putting anything in a basket, so I'm unsure if they arrived that way or ditched the garments downstairs. From the looks of them, I presumed they were the three friends from Ronan's gym, but I was a bit surprised they ranged in age from about 20 to 60. I chastised myself for assuming Ron would have made friends with only people in their mid-forties like he is.

 

Tom Wooten – aka Fletcher the Florist – greeted the first man, who appeared to be about 40. He was muscular but not massive. His 6'1" frame was well proportioned, from his long, dirty blond hair to his high-arched feet. He seemed genuinely excited to receive a purple dendrobium lai from Tom and deftly pulled his almost two-foot-long, thick, and wavy mane through it. He was pretty handsome – the best parts of Aaron Eckhart and Fabio. He said something to Tom, who handed him a second lai with a smile.

 

"Fabio" turned and nodded to someone in the stair hall. An enormous man walked in. He must have stood 6'6" and was massively muscled. His shoulders were almost ridiculously wide, tapering to a tiny waist for his height – probably 31 inches. He looked Korean to me and was perhaps 20 years old. The behemoth had a face that could only be described as beautiful, with pronounced cheekbones, a pointed chin, cherry-red permanently-pursed lips, and smooth, glowing skin, all set off by short, spiky black hair.

 

The young man's pectorals were almost perfect domes as he stood with his hands behind his back and his eyes cast to the floor. Each nipple sported a gold clamp with a considerable weight, pulling the nipple out almost an inch. His penis was entrapped in a swirling gold cock cage with a small padlock on top.

 

Fabio tapped the much larger man on the shoulder, and he dropped gracefully to his knees before Tom. "My friend will take a lai, please, Tom," he said.

 

"Does your friend have a name," Tom inquired.

 

"I apologize for my rudeness," Fabio replied. "I am Bernie Mansfield, a friend of Judge Goff. My Boy prefers not to use a name. Most people call him `Bernie's Boy' or just `Boy.' He is timid, but he's the sweetest man I've ever met, and I couldn't love him more," Bernie gushed, getting misty-eyed as he bent to kiss Boy's cheeks and nuzzle his face.

 

That threw me. I thought they were playing a dominant-submissive game, but Bernie seemed sweet, too. I wondered if he was acting as Boy's dom to please the ginormous man rather than because of his own desire to dominate someone else. Sometimes, I am too quick to judge.

 

Bernie tapped his boy's shoulder again, and the young man stood with his hands still clasped behind his back and looked down at Bernie's glowing smile. Bernie cupped Boy's cheek, then ran his hand down to the massive chest and patted it gently. "All the people here today love Uncle Ronnie," Bernie told Boy. "So even if this is our first meeting, they are our friends, too, OK?"

 

The Boy nodded and smiled slightly. I sensed something in him – a deep desire for belonging and to shed his feelings of unworthiness. I realized that I was accessing the periphery of his consciousness, and it was an uncomfortable place. He had a lot of healing to do, but I understood he had already come a long way.

 

"If anyone talks to you, I want you to do your best to look them in the eye and talk to them," Bernie encouraged. "You don't have to speak first but should respond without my prompting. That would make me very proud of you."

 

The Boy smiled broadly and looked adorable if that's the way to describe a massive man who looks like he could crush you with two fingers. "The only thing I want is for you to be proud of me," the Boy spoke barely above a whisper. "Nothing else matters. May I offer my body to them as a gift from you?"

 

"I would like that, Boy," Bernie cooed. "I'm sure all these people will be thrilled to touch, taste, or make love with you. Nobody here will hurt you."

 

"I want them to hurt me, Sir," the Boy retorted. "The more pain I endure, the more I can show how much I love you."

 

Bernie kissed his Boy on his bright red lips and gave a good tug on a nipple weight, eliciting a grunt and a bright smile from the massive Korean. "I know you love me as much as I love you, sweetness," Bernie said. "You don't have to keep proving it. Besides, I think most men here would rather cuddle and kiss than slap and twist."

 

"Anything that makes you happy, Sir," Boy repeated.

 

Bernie moved into the living room, followed closely by his Boy, who assisted Bernie in doubling the second lai and placing it as a floral wreath on his head. The Boy pulled a few strands of hair around the lai to help secure it.

 

Bernie looked like he could have stepped out of Woodstock, and I had to concentrate on tamping down the yearning to have him in my ass. Maybe that would happen after the ceremony. The Boy and I made accidental eye contact. In an instant, he knew that I connected with him. He sensed something between us but didn't understand what happened. I will be sure to investigate this further later.

 

The third man finally entered to receive a floral necklace, approaching Tom with a smile and an outstretched hand. "Howdy do," he said with a confident tone, "I'm Fred Bickford, a friend of the groom. Friend of the groom's father, to be precise."

 

Tom laughed as he placed a string of dendrobium blossoms around the thick neck of the large, medium-toned 60-something-year-old Black man and asked, "Which groom?"

 

Fred laughed low and loud. "Why did I think Ronnie was marrying a woman?"

 

At that moment, the entourage returned to the living room from the bedroom, led by Ron with one massive arm supporting Garrett, wrapped tightly around him with arms and legs. Ron held Ted's hand with his free hand. It appeared that Ron had recovered entirely from his spell of vertigo.

 

"Now, Mr. Bickford," Ron chided as he lifted Ted's hand, "Does this look like a woman to you?"

 

Fred laughed again. Perhaps bellowed would be a more apt description. "He sure as hell don't, Your Honor. I just never in a million years thought either of us would fall in love with a man. Come here, Your Honor, and let me kiss the hell out of you."

 

Ron kissed Garrett several times and thanked him for his assistance. "I think you've brought an end to my spells more effectively than anything or anyone else," Ron praised his 13-year-old flower boy. "I should have my insurance company compensate you."

 

Garry kissed Ron again as he climbed off the muscled judge. "Anything, anytime for you, Ronnie," Garry insisted. "I'll be here in a flash if you think it will help. My dads will bring me to wherever you are, right," Garry turned to his fathers, who both emphasized their agreement.

 

"What exactly did you do to help," Dave asked his son. Ron answered for him.

 

"I was sitting in the chair in your bedroom with the vertigo becoming pretty intense," Judge Goff explained. "Garry decided to climb onto my lap and hug me. I heard Dex question whether that was a good idea. But, I swear to the heavens, as soon as your son hugged and kissed me and told me he loved me, the vertigo began dissipating."

 

"You made me whole when you placed me with my dads," Garrett said, shaking with emotion. "Maybe karma allowed me to make you whole in return."

 

Polo and Dave crushed their beloved in a three-way hug as they shuffled to the side of the room.

 

***

 

Fred Bickford latched onto Ron, and the two kissed almost feverishly, taking turns invading each other's mouths. Fred stood about an inch shorter than Ron but probably weighed about the same. Whereas Ronan was muscular, vascular, and cut, Fred was massive and a little more thickly set: more like a powerlifter than a bodybuilder. His eyelashes and brows appeared to be the only hair on his handsome brown body. His skin looked remarkably taut for his age, with only a hint of looseness here or there.

 

The two men continued kissing for another minute, then Fred broke the kiss and turned to Ted. "So you're the man that turned my friend gay, huh?" He took a moment to scan Ted's 6'3" frame, his eye lingering on Ted's 7-inch flaccid penis. "I can see how that could happen. Anyway, Ted, I'm glad to meet you. Can I kiss the hell out of you, too?"

 

Ted laughed and opened his arms to Fred's eager approach. Fred was getting every bit of flavor he could quarry out of Ted's mouth. They kissed for several moments with hands roaming everywhere. Fred brought his hands to rest on Ted's shoulders and asked, "Do you mind if I have a quick taste of that fine-looking cock? I just want to see how it feels massaging my throat. We'll save the prostate massage for later."

 

Ted shrugged acquiescence, and Fred went to work. I wondered whether Fred might suffer from cognitive dissonance, proclaiming his heterosexuality while fellating another man. Perhaps, as with Bernie's Boy, I was too quick to judge. Luke telepathed to me that I should cut myself some slack while John just laughed at the situation.

 

Within a minute, Fred slid Ted's 9 ½ inches in and out of his throat five or six times, then moved over to Ron's cock, which he stimulated to its full 7 inches within a minute. He gave Ron's ass a few hard slaps before rising to his feet.

 

"I don't know, Ronnie," Fred opined, "Ted's cock is tastier than yours, and I can't wait to have it in either of my holes. But you, Ronan Goff, are still the best kisser – man or woman – whom I've ever had the pleasure of encountering, with the singular exception of your father."

 

Ron smiled. "You'll get no argument from me on that front."

 

"I like your matching cockrings, by the way," Fred remarked as he fondled Ted's and Ron's erections for a few moments. Both men spurted precum at Fred's masterful touch.

 

"The luckiest day in my life was when Brendan got assigned as my mentor in wrestling camp the summer before I started junior high," Fred explained to Ted. "I was always the youngest in my class because I started first grade when I was five. So, I was 11, and Bren was 14. He treated me like a buddy right off, not like a burden.

 

"In those days – this was 50 years ago – no, fifty-one years ago," he continued, "the sports camps were always conducted nude, so I could see that my mentor had the most developed physique even compared with the 15 and 16-year-olds. I could also see he had one of the biggest schlongs of anyone at the camp, including the coaches. All of us kids walked around with erections for half the day.

 

"On the third or fourth day of camp, I bet Bren I could take his cock up my ass. We bet our desserts for the next three nights. Of course, I won," Fred remembered with a chuckle. "The following week, we had an assembly around the firepit after lunch, and the mentors took turns telling everyone how their charges had impressed them the most. Bren bragged that I could take his cock down my throat and up my ass.

 

"Everyone thought he was joking, so I told him to stand and started sucking him in front of 40-some teens and ten coaches and staff. Once I got him hard, I got down on my hands and knees and told him to get busy. I made eye contact with all the coaches while Brendan drilled me hard. Even at 14, Brendan knew how to use his 7 ½ inches.

 

"The boys were cheering us on as I felt my orgasm building. I dropped my head to pant through the feelings and ended up blasting my face with cum. Now, I had only started cumming a few months before that, but let me tell you, I was downright dripping with cum. Right after that, Bren came in my ass. When he pulled out, I stood up and walked a victory lap around the fire pit with my cum dripping off my face and Bren's cum running out of my ass to the cheering crowd," Fred said nostalgically.

 

"By that time at camp, it wasn't unusual to see someone walking around with splooge all over them. Since we did all our grappling sessions nude, ejaculations happened. The first few days, kids would be embarrassed if they came on other kids. The kids who got cum on them were grossed out," Fred explained.

 

"But we got used to it quickly. We didn't even bother to clean ourselves off by the end of the first week. Everyone had four or five loads of dried cum on them by the time we went to supper. Kids would proudly point out the cum from coaches as if it were a special merit badge," Fred laughed.

 

"I didn't think anything of it at the time, but I guess `accidental' ejaculations were common; deliberate public sex acts weren't done during the camps," Fred explained. "I guess Brendan and I changed all that," Fred mused.

 

"After our performance, everyone seemed to have lost their inhibitions because there was sex going on between kids, staff, and kids with staff. It wasn't everyone, everywhere, all the time, but I'd see guys having sex outside, in the commons room, cafeteria, or canteen, at least a couple times a day.

 

"I also am proud to have initiated the dinnertime tradition of the `living centerpiece' for the coaches' table. They sat on one side of a long table at the end of the cafeteria to oversee the goings on.

 

Volunteers would throw their names in a bowl each night. One kid's name would be picked for the coaches' table. He would select a number, and that number of names would be pulled from another bowl to take turns spit-roasting the centerpiece. The kids could be in any position that worked. The names in the second bowl could be kids, staff, or coaches," Fred explained wistfully.

 

"Everyone watched as they ate the dinner, with the coaches only inches from the action. They had the added advantage of being able to scoop up any cum they wanted to slurp down with their dinner. Nothing went to waste," Fred laughed. "At the end, the centerpiece got a special dinner with unlimited seconds, even if they were on a `cut' diet for their weight class."

Ted and Ron couldn't help but laugh at Fred even as they moaned in pleasure at his continuing ministrations. Ted said, "Why do I have a feeling that your name was in the first bowl every night, Fred, and that you probably hold the record for the highest number of partners."

 

Fred laughed heartily. "Every damn night. You know it! But my highest number was 20. A few years later, when I was back as a senior mentor, Coach Stanley started a tradition of one of the coaches being the centerpiece on the last night of camp. He jumped up on the table and said, `Everyone cums either in me or on me. Everyone.'

 

"All 40 boys, all dozen coaches and assistants, even the cooks and janitors had their cocks in one hole or another. Coach Stanley was a beast and an inspiration," Fred said. "I thought he'd have to be carried to his bed, but he got off that table proudly and took a bow. The seniors – including me – were invited to clean off remnants. We gave every inch of that magnificent body a good tongue bath with the other kids gathering around. Then Coach Stanley invited anyone who wished back to his room for seconds. You know that I went."

 

"Everyone seemed to have more fun with an audience or multiple participants. I still do!"

 

The memory was enough to induce a full-on 6 ½ inch leaking boner in the 62-year-old, surprising me by pointing straight up and tapping on his abdomen. He has undoubtedly maintained his sexual prowess. The story was enough to cause wet erections in all who heard it.

 

"Brendan Goff has been my best bud and most frequent fuck buddy for the last 51 years," Fred bragged. "I'm just sorry he's in the Canary Islands and not here to celebrate your gay wedding," Fred joked.

 

Throughout his story, Fred kept a hand on each of the fiancée's penises, sometimes holding them lovingly, occasionally rubbing them in unison.

 

Ted laughed but couldn't keep quiet anymore. "You know, Fred, you appear to have a lot of gay sex for a straight guy."

 

"I don't think I've ever had `gay' sex," Fred countered as he bent to lick the precum from Ted's cock, then he repeated the procedure on Ron. "Gay isn't what you do. Gay is whom you love. I love, love, love having sex with men – I screw around with four or five different guys a week – but I only ever fell in love with women. I love my wife but don't love the men I fuck or who fuck me. Well, I mean, I love you, Ron, your dad, and you, too, Dex, but I'm not `in love' with you guys. I love you like brothers and sons. Brendan Goff will go down in history as the best friend and best sex partner in the Western Hemisphere."

 

"Aw, little Freddy Bickford loves me," a voice echoed from the stair hall.

 

***

 

We all turned to see an older version of Ron standing in the doorway, handing Gael the last of his clothing to store in a basket.

 

Ron and Dex simultaneously yelled, "Dad!" and "Pop!" and made their way to the door to cleave onto the older Goff patriarch. The trio looked like a 600-pound sculpture of polished black granite. They spent considerable time kissing in all combinations and holding on tightly to each other. The looks of love shared between the three generations of Goff men brought me to tears – again.

 

As I cried with happiness at the joyous family reunion, my suspicions rose, and I probed the minds of my husbands. Bingo! I accessed a memory of my newest husband, John Hamilton, listening yesterday evening as Ted talked about his desire for Ronan's father to be at the wedding.

 

John insisted that, since Michel was hosting and paying for everything related to the wedding, Cookie (and now Luke and I, since we are a threesome?) would provide transportation for Brendan from his apartment on the island of Lanzarote to Chicago. We were able to get one of the long-range business jets in John's lease program from Portugal to Lanzarote quickly so Brendan could board around 7:00 a.m. local time for the eight-hour flight to Chicago, landing just after 10:00 a.m.

 

Luke and I praised John for his thoughtfulness and generosity, knowing that we would have done the same given the chance, especially witnessing the love shared by Brendan, Ronan, and Declan.

 

When the three Goff men finally entered the apartment, they wiped happy tears from their cheeks. Of course, that set me off again. Ronan introduced his dad to the crowd, and we applauded for some reason. His arrival seemed like an event worth celebrating.

 

If Declan and Ronan looked like they could be twins even though they were 22 years apart, then Brendan looked like he could be their older brother, even though he was 20 years older than Ronan and 42 years older than Dex.

 

He stood about an inch taller than his son and grandson but otherwise had an identical build, though perhaps slightly less bulked than Dex. He had salt and pepper hair kept relatively short and a well-trimmed goatee. His handsome smile caused me to quiver. His lovely cock, which had extended to about six inches, gave me a warm feeling.

 

My two husbands laughed at me for imagining how good it would feel to have that goatee scratching me as he ate out my ass. My innocent analingus reverie was interrupted by the site of Brendan enveloping Ted in a tight embrace and a quick but enthusiastic kiss. Then, turning to Ron, he said, "My son-in-law is even more handsome than you said, Ronnie." After another kiss on Ted's lips, "I'm thrilled to welcome you to my family. I hope your family can put up with me."

 

Ted introduced Brendan to his parents, Nick and Carolyn, and Uncle Alex, who assured him of his welcome to their family. Nicholas and Aleksander were happy to kiss Brendan's mouth while Carolyn offered both cheeks.

 

Bren finally got around to greeting Fred. I wasn't sure how they could even breathe; they were clinging to each other so tightly. After a few minutes, Fred panted, "I've missed my best buddy. I can't wait for you to fuck me!"

 

Brendan laughed. "Nothing new there. I thought you would come to the Canary Islands to visit me. My bed always has room for you."

 

"Not all of us can retire early and live a life of luxury off the west coast of Africa," Fred cajoled.

 

"I have a one-bedroom apartment with a kitchenette and a shared patio," Brendan corrected. "It's not exactly a life of luxury. Besides, I still work two days a week at a practice on Lanzarote and am on call for dental emergencies for a group of the island's resorts. Although, I must admit it is a luxury to live in an entirely nudist village. I know my grandson is jealous."

 

Dex nodded and laughed but was cut off before he could explain his new job to his grandfather. A man who looked to be in his early 20s came around the corner from the stairs. Ron's bailiff was the only guest known to be missing, so I assumed this was he.

 

***

 

The first thing I noticed, even ten feet away, was the sparkle of his hazel eyes, which lit his smiling face. Most people look a little trepidatious when entering a new place filled with strangers. But this handsome man looked eager and downright joyous to walk into a room of friends he hadn't met yet.

 

His face was classically attractive, with a strong jawline and contoured cheekbones. His nose was straight but a little thicker than a textbook aquiline profile. He had a deep filtrum from his upper lip to the bottom of his nose. His mouth was set straight with lips of average fullness, and his brows were curved just enough to soften his appearance.

 

Tom greeted the man with a smile and held out a floral necklace.

 

"Good morning, sir," the swarthy man enthused in a melodious baritone voice. "I am Christopher Buckingham, a work friend of His Honor Judge Goff. I am happy to meet you. Thank you for the beautiful welcome."

 

Christopher bowed his head slightly so Tom could easily place the flowers around his neck. Mr. Buckingham stood about 5'10" compared with Tom's six-foot height, so he didn't have to bend much. As Tom adjusted the flowers, I noticed how thick Christpher's neck was and how his mammoth trapezius muscles rose like a mountain from his sculpted shoulders so that from the back, it almost looked like he didn't have a neck.

 

He turned slightly so that I could see his naked, tawny body. He was covered in a sparse and trimmed dusting of dark hair that did little to obscure the view of his cut physique. Though not stacked, he was very well-defined. I could count all eight of his ab muscles as they stood in slightly offset relief going down his torso. His thick intact penis hung about six inches though it appeared to be completely flaccid. His large balls were hairless and hung freely between his bulky thighs.

 

Christopher leaned up to kiss Tom's lips briefly and thank him again. Next, he looked down at Garrett and beamed as the 13-year-old held a lai. "May I have the honor of receiving a lai from you, as well, young man," Christopher asked. I could have sworn his face was luminescent as he spoke, glowing through his three-day scruff and highlighting his dark brown straight hair, which looked entirely resistant to combs and had six-inch shocks lying haphazardly in every direction.

 

Garrett glanced to Tom for approval to give Christopher a second lai, which was immediately granted. "May I have the honor of offering you a lai, Mr. Buckingham?" Garrett mimicked Christopher's tone, which, because Garrett has an unusually deep voice for his age, sounded precisely like Christopher's.

 

Christopher laughed and knelt to give Garrett an easier time, which was sweet but unnecessary. "Please call me Chris if you prefer." As Chris sat on his heels, his thighs ballooned even larger. Something clicked in Chris's face, and his eyes got wider. "Are you the world-famous Garrett Thistlewaite?"

 

Garrett looked shocked. "World famous? I'm not famous at all, am I?"

 

Chris smiled and never broke eye contact with Garrett. "I've worked with His Honor only since June when I graduated from the academy, but he talks about you often. Whenever we have a rough day in court, Judge Goff tells me about Garrett Thistlewaite, the sweetest, kindest, and most loving boy he's had the privilege of meeting. His Honor says that placing you with your fathers was the best day in his professional life.

 

"Now that I am looking at you face-to-face," Chris continued, "you look like the sweetest, kindest, most loving young man. May I kiss you?"

 

Garrett stood dumbstruck, still looking into those captivating, sparkling hazel eyes. "Me?"

 

"Yes, you," Chris assured. "I would be happy to be your friend if you and your dads will have me. I always make room for sweet, loving, and kind people."

 

Polo had heard much of the exchange and approached to stand next to Garrett. He tried to look harsh and guarded, but Chris's bright smile and affable countenance were so beguiling that Polo bent down to kiss Chris's scruffy cheek before he knew what was happening.

 

"You must be Polo Sanchez," Chris observed. As he continued to sit on his heels, his mouth was only a few inches from Polo's penis, but Chris looked directly into the handsome man's brown eyes. "Thank you for being such a great father. I can see by the way you look at each other that you love each other unreservedly. It's a privilege to witness."

 

Chris placed a hand on each of their hips and pulled them close, kissing each of their bellies in turn, then he placed little kisses up Garrett's torso until he got to his mouth and gave him a sweet kiss. Polo got a similar kiss. "Sorry. I can be silly sometimes. Where is your other loving father," Chris asked.

 

David Thistlewaite approached, like Polo, trying to be circumspect but utterly failing once he got lured in by the happy smile and sparkling eyes of the 23-year-old bailiff. David leaned in to get a kiss, then asked jokingly, "So, you want to come over for a play date with our son?"

 

Chris's face sparkled. "Yes! That would be great." Then, turning to Garrett, "What would you like to do? I enjoy crocheting and needlepoint. I also like to sew, and I make some of my clothing. I could teach you how to sketch a garment and then make a pattern from the sketch. I can show you the difference between a backstitch and a basting stitch. I also like to do pencil drawings and watercolors. I like to read, too. Sometimes, I enjoy reading aloud. We could read a book to each other. That could be a hoot!"

 

David and Polo looked at each other, trying to figure out what planet Chris came from.

 

David thought momentarily, then offered, "Would you like to bring your sketchbook and pencils over tomorrow afternoon for a get-acquainted session?"

 

Chris scrunched up his face and ran his fingers through his hair, which had no practical effect. "It depends on what time," he said to David. "I have to be up in Ravenswood by 4:30. Tomorrow is one of my days on cleanup duty at Our Lady of Lourdes community kitchen. I like showing up early to make little sketches for the children. Sometimes, we have story time in the corner if there are enough children. Sadly, there are almost always enough children."

 

Polo blinked a few times. "Our Lady of Lourdes, you say? We donate our overages and extra portions to them."

 

Chris wrapped Polo in a tight embrace and covered his face with kisses. "I love you, Polo! I love you so much. You have no idea how much your generosity means to our clients. You change lives! Our clients love your food more than anything."

 

Polo struggled to breathe while David smiled and patted his husband's back.

 

Chris eventually released the caterer and looked like he had a moment of inspiration. He hugged Garrett and proposed, "Why don't we go to the kitchen together? It's so much fun meeting new people. It's even more fun to be helpful. It's triple the fun to do both at the same time."

 

Polo and David exchanged looks, wondering whether the soup kitchen would be an appropriate place for their 13-year-old son.

 

Garrett stood on his toes to kiss Chris on the cheek. "Those kids are lucky to have you, Chris. There were many times I wished I could go to a place like Our Lady of Lourdes for a hot meal instead of eating stale cereal for supper, sitting by myself in a cold apartment. Maybe the kids would like to hear my story. Would it be helpful, Chris, or make them feel worse?"

 

It took Chris quite a while to plant dozens of kisses all over Garrett's face, each punctuated with a declaration of love. "Garrett Thistlewaite, you are an angel in the flesh," Chris declared while pressing the youngster's naked body against his own. "What would make those kids feel better is having someone who cares about them enough to talk with them. It doesn't matter about what. Let them lead the conversation. They will love you as much as I do."

 

Garrett chuckled. "But you just met me."

 

"I don't understand your point," Chris responded as he hugged the boy again.

 

"I could be a real brat," Garrett tried to eke out while letting his hands roam around Chris's muscular back.

 

"But you're not," Chris countered. "I have a sense about people. You are an extraordinary young man who will grow into an extraordinary adult who will make life better for hundreds – if not thousands – of people. It is a privilege to be your friend."

 

Garrett subconsciously rubbed Chris's ass as his eye caught Michel nodding to him that they were ready to gather for the ceremony. "I have to go now," Garrett explained, smiling as he held Chris's gaze. "I'm the flower boy for the wedding. But maybe later we can talk about tomorrow, and you can come back to our place and help me sketch a dress I want to make for myself. And then, if my dads say it's OK, you can stay over if you don't mind four of us in one bed."

 

"You're the cutest flower boy ever," Chris said with a peck on Garrett's forehead. "We'll talk later. I love you."

 

***

 

I must have been so distracted by the entrance of the last of the guests that I didn't notice five angled rows of five grey satin slipcover-draped folding chairs had been set up in the large living room, three chairs on the left of the aisle, two on the right.

 

Jake appeared with his lute and played softly in the back corner. Bobby Trachtenberg and Sebastien Archambeau appeared with cameras, apparently from Michel's collection.

 

Michel reminded us that Luke, John, and I would enter first as Ted's best men, then Brendan and Declan Goff as Ronan's best men, then Pythagoras, the ring bearer, followed by Garrett, the flower boy. Finally, Ronan and Ted would walk arm-in-arm. Michel pointed to small video cameras mounted on the four garland-wrapped columns at the front of the room, noting that Henri would be operating them from a tablet as he stood in the back.

 

"You might hear a slight whirring or humming as he gimbles the cameras around to ensure we get good views of the happy couple during their happiest of times," Michel cautioned.

 

Dammit!! I could feel myself tearing up already; the wedding hadn't even started. Man up, Q!

 

Tyler emerged carrying the guitar Jake lent him, followed by Chuck. I asked Ty if he was all tuned up. He said that Jake tuned the guitar to match Jake's lute, which is tuned to the medieval Versailles standard of A 390Hz instead of the modern A 440Hz. "We had to go through the song a few times just to get used to the lower pitch," Chuck explained.

 

I kissed both boys and thanked them for contributing their talents to the celebration. They joined Jake, who kissed them both without missing a note on his lute.

 

Michel checked one last time that everyone was ready. He told us not to start walking until the boys started singing, then went to the front of the room.

 

It suddenly struck me how odd it seemed to be at a nude wedding. I didn't feel at all uncomfortable being naked, but whenever I conjure images of weddings, they always involve fancy clothing, not a complete lack of clothing. I've never been to such a ceremony before, let alone participating.

 

Michel smiled at Luke, who brought his solo to a close. He, Ty, and Chuck all looked at each other, nodding their beat. Ty and Jake began playing the intro, then started their version of "From the Ground Up."

 

Grandma and Grandpa painted a picture of sixty-five years
And one little house
More than a memory
More than saying I do
Kiss you goodnight, and say I love you.

 

I stood to Luke's left and John to his right, arms around each other's waists, and we slowly walked up the narrow aisle. We had to press against each other to fit, but we didn't mind.

 

Me and you, baby, walk in their footsteps,
Building our own family
Maybe in time
Ten little toes, a nursery room
Our beautiful baby will look just like you.

 

Declan and his grandfather Brendan waited until we three husbands took our place to Michel's right to proceed. They each gave Pythagoras a sweet kiss before they left, causing the ring bearer to break into a luminous smile.

 

And we'll build this love from the ground up.
Now 'til forever, it's all of me, all of you.
Just take my hand
And I'll be the man your dad hopes I will be

 

And we'll build this love from the ground up.
For worse or for better
And I will be all you need
Beside you I'll stand through the good and the bad.
We'll give all that we have
And we'll build this love from the ground up.

 

Py proceeded, holding the satin pillow with Ted's and Ronan's rings tied to it as if he were carrying the Crown Jewels. (We hoped these jewels weren't the product of murderous cultural theft and slavery, the way England acquired most of its riches.) The tiny spotlights from the flowered colonnade sparkled on his black skin, almost like glitter.

 

I was surprised to see the 14-year-old processing with his 5-inch penis standing straight up. He was either completely oblivious to his erection or completely unconcerned about it. I surmised it was the latter after observing how unbothered he was performing sex acts and having them performed on him in our hotel suite the other night in front of a crowd about the same size as was gathered today.

 

Brendan and Declan pulled Py to stand between them, each planting several kisses on his face to congratulate him on a beautiful entrance. I didn't know whether it was an unconscious self-soothing action or a deliberate gesture, but both Goff grandfather and grandson repeatedly stroked Py's back from his shoulders to his ass and back up again. The young man was in heaven.

 

This life will go by
In the blink of an eye
But I wouldn't want to spend it without you by my side.
The clouds are gonna roll,
The earth's gonna shake,
But I'll be your shelter through the wind and the rain.

 

And we'll build this love from the ground up.
Now 'til forever, it's all of me, all of you

Just take my hand
And I'll be the man your dad hopes I will be.

 

Garrett is the cutest flower boy ever! Tom, the florist, fitted him with a crown of gardenias, pink rose buds, a matching lai, and flowered anklets with a ribbon looped around his middle toes to hold large gardenia blooms on his instep. The look was completed by flowered bracelets with silk ribbons billowing as he pulled rose petals from his basket and sprinkled them with a nascent masculine grace that drew all eyes to him.

 

Damn his fathers! I glanced at Polo and David sitting together in the back row, wiping tears as they watched their son. I couldn't hold back and let my tears flow. As much as I was crying, Chris Buckingham, Garrett's new playmate and Ronan's bailiff, was crying even more. The 23-year-old was utterly smitten with the 13-year-old.

 

Garrett made his way slowly to us, placing his basket on a small brass plant stand next to Michel before Luke pulled him close and hugged him from behind. Luke stepped back, so Garrett was in line with John and me. We kissed him and whispered praise on a fine job. Garrett put his hands on our backs. John, Luke and I telepathed to each other how the ribbons on Garrett's wrists were tickling our asses.

 

And we'll build this love from the ground up.
For worse or for better
And I will be all you need
Beside you I'll stand through the good and the bad.
We'll give all that we have
And we'll build this love from the ground up.

 

Ted and Ronan held hands as they walked on the rose petals Garrett sprinkled. In their opposite hands, they each carried a small bouquet of three roses: red, lavender, and white, tied together with silver satin ribbons.

 

If I had any doubts about this snap wedding, they dissolved when I saw the staggeringly handsome couple approach. I could tell that they were communicating with each other the same way my husbands and I do. I could even sense Ted wordlessly telling Ron, "I'll be the man your dad hopes I will be."

 

How can I do that? It pleased me to realize that their connection signaled the authenticity of their commitment to each other.

 

Someday we'll wake up
With thousands of pictures
Sixty-five years in our little house.
I won't trade for a thing, the life that we built,
I'll kiss you goodnight and say I love you still.

 

And we'll build this love from the ground up.
For worse or for better
And I will be all you need
Beside you I'll stand through the good and the bad.
We'll give all that we have
And we'll build this love from the ground up.

 

The gorgeous musical duo transformed into an impressive trio as Jake's deep voice joined in on the last verse and refrain, his lute adding arpeggio curlicues to Ty's guitar accompaniment. As deep as Jake's voice sank, Chuck's nimble falsetto soared even higher while Ty carried the melody. They sounded like a professional group that had been together for years.

 

Beside you I'll stand through the good and the bad.
We'll give all that we have
And we'll build this love from the ground up.

 

Oh, oh, from the ground up.

 

Ted and Ron joined us as the trio finished the song. Michel, splendidly naked save for his thick lai of silvery Dusty Miller stems with white roses woven throughout, stood to the couple's side to address the crowd.

 

"First of all, we thank Tyler Pickett, Charles Beck, and Professor John Monroe for providing such beautiful music to start this beautiful day. Additionally, thanks to Professor Monroe for lending his valuable antique instruments. You are a good neighbor and a generous friend. Your condo fees are waived for the remainder of the year."

 

The crowd laughed.

 

"That wasn't a joke," Michel emphasized. The next three months are on me."

 

I noticed that Bobby handed off his camera to Ty, who is more experienced with high-end photo equipment than Bobby, who sat next to his father and wrestling coach, Robert.

 

"Ted and Ron want this ceremony to be short, simple, and – most of all – legally binding," Michel continued. "They thank their friends and family who made it here today on such short notice, including everyone who worked selflessly to put this celebration together.

 

"Special recognition goes to Dr. Brendan Goff, Ronan's father, who managed to get here all the way from the Canary Islands overnight with logistical assistance from one of Ted's best men, John Hamilton."

 

Ron turned to his father, and the two joined their lips, tenderly displaying their love. Poor Pythagoras got smooshed between them, but he didn't seem to mind. Luke similarly kissed John and similarly smooshed Garrett between them. I could hear Garrett's faint giggle as his face was pressed against John's chest.

 

Michel continued as the father and son maintained their kiss for several more moments. "Ron and Ted carry three roses today: lavender, symbolizing love at first sight; white, representing new love and new beginnings; and red, symbolizing passion and romantic love. Those of us lucky enough to have shared the bed with them last night can all attest to their passion – and stamina."

 

Everyone laughed, with several calling out praise for each man's skill as a lover.

 

"They should probably be carrying two dozen red roses each," Michel quipped to more laughter and an exclamation of, "That's my boy," from Brendan.

 

"But, truly, it is a blessing to participate in the love these two men share selflessly with each other and all of us. We are in awe of it," Michel reflected.

 

"Although this is to be a short ceremony, Ted's uncle, Aleksander Nowicki, asked to read a meditation on loving partnership by Anne Morrow Lindbergh. Without objection?"

 

Ted and Ron looked at each other and shrugged. Alex stood and walked to the grooms, kissing each one deeply, knowing Ted for all his life and Ron for several years as a frequent patron at SinkHole, the bar/club where Nick dances and works as an escort.

 

Ted and Ron separated so that Alex could address the assemblage,

 

A relationship is not strangled by claims. Intimacy is tempered by lightness of touch. We have moved through our day like dancers, not needing to touch more than lightly because we were instinctively moving to the same rhythm.

 

A good relationship has a pattern like a dance and is built on some of the same rules. The partners do not need to hold on tightly because they move confidently in the same pattern, intricate but gay and swift and free, like a country dance of Mozart's.

 

To touch heavily would be to arrest the pattern and freeze the movement, to check the endlessly changing beauty of its unfolding. There is no place here for the possessive clutch, the clinging arm, the heavy hand; only the barest touch in passing. Now arm in arm, now face to face, now back to back -- it does not matter which. Because they know they are partners moving to the same rhythm, creating a pattern together, and being invisibly nourished by it.

 

The joy of such a pattern is not only the joy of creation or the joy of participation; it is also the joy of living in the moment. Lightness of touch and living in the moment are intertwined.

 

But how does one learn this technique of the dance? It is fear, I think, that makes one cling nostalgically to the last moment or clutch greedily toward the next. But how to exorcise it? It can only be exorcised by its opposite, love.

 

When the heart is flooded with love, there is no room in it for fear, for doubt, for hesitation. And it is this lack of fear that makes for the dance.

 

When each partner loves completely, then he has forgotten to ask himself whether or not he is loved in return; when he only knows that he loves and is moving to its music -- then, and then only, are two people able to dance perfectly in tune to the same rhythm.

 

Alex stood silently, then raised his hand to wipe a tear from Ted's face. "I look forward to many years of dancing with you both. I love you," he concluded with a cracking voice.

 

Ted and Alex clung to each other without a micron of space between them from cheek to ankle. Then Ron got the same treatment with a few kisses thrown in for good measure. Though each man is remarkably fit and handsome on his own, it was literally breathtaking to see their naked bodies together. My husband John silently reminded me to breathe and not swoon. My husband Luke confessed that he, too, was staggered by the masculine display of love and beauty before him. The big galoot is as mushy as I am.

 

Alex returned to his seat with his 9-inch erection leading the way. His years dancing, wearing little to nothing, left him without the slightest embarrassment about walking naked and hard among people he didn't know. He took his seat next to Carolyn and Nick, with his sister-in-law playfully squeezing his cock as she air-kissed his cheek while Nick reached over to ruffle his hair.

 

I got hard watching, which Py noticed. He was hard, too, and just smiled and winked at me.

 

Michel asked Py and Garry to step forward. Ron and Ted handed Garry their bouquets, which he decided to hold rather than place on the small table with the basket of rose petals.

 

"Ronan Michael Goff and Theodore Aleksander Nowicki," Michel stated, "Is it your intention to enter into marriage with each other to be legally recognized by the State of Illinois? If so, please affirm that intention."

 

"Yes, it is my intention," both men said in unison, leveraging their new psychic connection.

 

"Do you each come here under your own will with sobriety and presence of mind to enter into this contract?"

 

"I do," came the stereo response.

 

"Is either of you encumbered by any legal arrangement in any jurisdiction around the world that would prevent you from being legally wed in the State of Illinois?"

 

"No, Sir," both remarked thoughtfully.

 

Michel put a hand on Py's shoulder and gently directed him to stand facing Declan and Brendan and offer the satin pillow holding the wedding bands. Michel untied one of the satin ribbons that affixed the rings to the pillow. Py stood stone still, determined not to let the ring move. After a quick exchange of looks, Declan picked up the ring, kissed it, and offered it to his grandfather, who also kissed it before handing it to Ronan.

 

"Ronan, please place the ring on Theodore's finger and state your full name as you do so while making your vow to him," Michel instructed.

 

Ron didn't hesitate for a millisecond, taking the ring, kissing it, and putting it on Ted's finger only to the first knuckle. "By placing this ring on your finger, I, Ronan Michael Goff, take you, Theodore Aleksander Nowicki, as my lawfully wedded husband.

 

"Though our friend Michel stated that the lavender roses we carry symbolize love at first sight, we do not have love at first sight. We have the long-awaited fruition of our destiny. When I saw you yesterday, Ted, my first thought was, `Finally, you have arrived!' I had been waiting for you for years. I just didn't know who you were. I love you, Ted Nowicki, wholly and completely. I am eager to be your husband – with all the triumphs and struggles that implies – for as long as you will have me."

 

Ron then slid the ring the rest of the way onto Ted's finger. I think he did. It was hard to tell through my tears. Everyone was warned I'd be a blubbering mess.

 

Without any prompting, Py approached us and stood almost nose-to-nose with Garrett. Luke didn't wait for Michel and reached over Garrett's shoulder to untie the other ring. He imitated Dex and Brendan by imparting a loving kiss to the gold band, then handed it to John, who did the same.

 

John handed the ring to me. I almost dropped it because I couldn't see through my tears. "This is going to get wet," I warned to a round of laughter.

 

I kissed the ring, sending all my best wishes and love into it, then handed it to Ted. "The happiest of tears," I told him as he touched my face.

 

"Theodore, please place the ring on Ronan's finger and state your full name as you do so while making your vow to him," Michel instructed.

 

Ted brought Ron's left hand to his lips before putting the ring on the tip of his finger. "By placing this ring on your finger, I, Theodore Aleksander Nowicki, take you, Ronan Michael Goff, as my lawfully wedded husband. I give myself to you, body and soul, wholly and completely, without reservation. I look forward to dancing with you without grasping or clutching for as long as you will have me."

 

The men turned back to face Michel, who nodded to Garrett. The flower boy caught on and handed the rose bouquets back to the couple, who took them as they held each other in a side embrace.

 

"As you, Ronan and Theodore, have come here freely, without legal encumbrances, stated your intentions, and proclaimed your vows before these witnesses and the assembled, I do declare that, under the auspices of Cook County and the State of Illinois, you are a married couple, with all of the privileges and responsibilities appertaining thereto. You may exchange some sign of your mutual affection if you desire."

 

Ted and Ron smiled slyly, obviously plotting something telepathically. They shook hands as they patted each other's shoulders and said in unison, "Well done, husband. Well done!"

 

We all laughed at their antics. Alex stood up and yelled, "Theodore Nowicki, if you don't kiss that sexy-ass husband of yours, I'm going to. To be clear, I will kiss that man regardless."

 

Before Alex could finish speaking, the newlyweds were locked in a passionate kiss. They had promised not to clutch and grasp, but there was plenty of both.

 

Jake launched into "Ce Fu En Mai" on his lute, his full bass voice providing Moniot d'Arras's poem about seeing a beautiful couple dancing in an orchard, then going off to make love in a bed of flowers. The tune was considered jaunty for its time, and Jake endeavored to make it lively and gay to suit the occasion.

 

Ted and Ronan walked down the aisle while never letting their lips separate. I bent to whisper something to Py and Garrett. They followed the newlyweds arm-in-arm, kissing as they walked just as Ted and Ronan had, their light and dark complexions matching Ted and Ronan's. Dex and Brendan did likewise.

 

While Cookie, Luke, and I enjoy three-way kisses, they are challenging to do while walking. With my husbands' instant agreement, I sent John and Luke with their mouths on each other while I made the great sacrifice of accompanying Michel. He did not hesitate to explore my mouth, much to my delight.

 

We ended up in Michel's office, where Michel helped us complete the marriage license. I signed as a witness for Ted, while Dex signed for his father. We decided that would be safest, legally speaking, since Brendan is officially a permanent guest resident of Spain, and Luke is a Danish citizen. Cookie thought I should do it instead of him since he was not at our initial meeting with Ted.

 

Michel scanned the document to his computer and promised to deliver the original to the clerk's office Monday morning.

 

The marriage license went into Michel's desk drawer with an officious gesture. "Now, gentlemen, I think it's time to party," he declared.

 

That sounded like a perfect idea.