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The author “Chance” is me, “Larkin” This is an effort to re-compose my old roster into a new roster comprised old and new works, re-written and done with more careful editing. (omitting junk) I hope you will understand.

Please send comments to: larkin@tutanota.com...And I will respond

This is a work of fiction. All disclaimers associated with homosexuality will apply without exception. There is reference to some drug use that is in character with the period but it is only incidental and not to proselytize. Persons portrayed in this story are fictitious or at best, coincidental.

If you've read an earlier version, these chapters are new continuation.

Waiting for the Titanic

Chapter 16

by Chance/Larkin

The Little Gargoyle

Tony came home from school with a new friend in tow. A blond boy named Gilbert. (More about this boy later) They both ran up to the 4^th and 5^th floor to play. I told him that I would call him for Dinner and then went to rouse Mark. When I told Mark that Tony was here he popped up and quickly began to dress. It was as if he was afraid that the boy would barge into the room and put 2+2 together.

“Mark, are you trying to tell me that in all the time you tutored Tony you were never tempted by his rude allure?”

He was shocked at the implication. “What do you mean? I've never done anything like that?”

“Are you also saying that Tony has never displayed himself to you perhaps as a teasing joke.”

He thought for a second. “Well once, but it was in the middle of a lesson about Tiberius and I slapped his hand and said, Stop that!”

I thought to myself, this is how passionate people miss out on the pleasures of life. Before they respond to an erotic impulse, they check the rule book to see if it is permitted .

Over dinner, Tony was quick to see that the teacher student relationship that had existed between them had evaporated and that everything was different. Mark was not wearing his frock and he sat at the table looking a little sheepish and insecure. I could see that Tony had a renewed interest in a man that had been suddenly brought down to Earth and he had quickly developed a crush on him. In spite of all that, The smiling Tony appeared to be on his best behavior.

Later that evening I put Mark in the spare bedroom and suggested that he sleep without worry or care and that tomorrow was a new day.

He expressed to me his gratitude for taking him off the street. We said, good night.

Once in bed the monkey demon needed entertaining. “How long is Mark going to be here?”

“I don't know, maybe for awhile.”
I must have been asleep for sometime when I was awaken. Mark, wrapped in a blanket had a naked and erect demon out of mythology nipping at his heels.

“Edmund, help me, he's trying to masturbate me and he will not let me alone. I chased him out of my room and he keeps coming back.”

I lifted the covers to admit Mark into my bed. He sought refuge in my arms under the covers. He was quickly followed by the monkey demon.

“Tony, go easy, you're scaring him. You don't want Mark to go away do you?

Perched like a gargoyle, atop the blanketed lump of bedding that was Mark, Tony chirped

in in his high and innocent voice, “No, I don't want him to go away.”

“Then relax and let things happen naturally.”

There was a muffled sound from under the covers. “He was trying to masturbate me.”

I responded, “Well Mark, there worse things in life, don't you think?”

It wouldn't be the first time I've had three in a bed but this time I was in the middle with Mark on one side and monkey boy on the other.

In the morning, with his face entirely covered except his eyes, Mark watched Tony and I in our morning ritual. After penetration, it was solely centered around Tony's brief but exquisite orgasm. The three of us slept in for a few more hours.

The Proposition

It was Saturday and cook was off for the day. Tony and I would always go to breakfast at the Alhambra Cafe. On this morning we took the disoriented and confused, de-frocked Brother Mark with us. It was a much finer place than the Little Cup cafe that I used to frequent down on West 10^th street. We were always greeted at the door and then guided to our usual table.

Tony called out, “I want pancakes!”

Mark had the same and I, a poached egg and fried potatoes.

Our guest was still boyish but was on his way to become a good and pleasant looking man.

I asked the disgraced acolyte. “Mark, what are your plans for the future now that you been cast out by the filthy old wankers at St. Paul's?”

He put his fork down and thought for a moment, then he gave me a puzzled look. “I don't know?”

I looked thoughtfully at the boy “Don't you want to chart your own course in life instead of bowing to those that think that they were appointed by God?”

Unlike my little Tony who was stuffing pancakes into his mouth, the de-frocked Mark looked completely lost. “I could go home. My family lives on a small farm in Terrytown, North of the city but I don't think they want me.”

He looked at me and said, “They think I'm strange.”

“Well, the truth be known, so do I. Brother Mark,would you consider staying with Tony and I? You could help take care of this disgusting little brat? He can be a handful, Isn't that right Tony?”

Mouth full of pancakes, he loudly mumbled something indecipherable. Mark was silent at the offer.

“Or, if you'd rather, we could go down town and book you a room in a small hotel? The choice is yours.”

Tony was dribbling his cherries and cream. “How do you feel about Mark coming to live with us?”

His answer was a prolonged “Yay!”

Mark looked sheepish as if accepting charity.

I felt the need to legitimize the proposition. “It is not a one sided offer. I would need you to help me with my household papers and tradesmen accounts and maybe continue Tony's studies and finally, would be grateful to occasionally have some time to get out on my own. Mark, you could be a big help.”

Heaven and Hell

Once home, feeling satisfied with our morning meal, it was time for Tony and I to share in a feast of a different sort and the fallen acolyte would be our prey. In an effort to ease Mark's awkwardness and anxiety I pulled him close, stroked and petted him. His body was light and smooth. I pulled his small frame up onto me so that he lay with his back on the warm length of my own body. As we planned together, Tony approached and began to open The overgrown alter boy's pants. The Acolyte began to squirm and kick, trying to get away. I held him tight and whispered into his ear. Mark, please relax, Relax and let the little brat have his way. He knows I fuck you and he wants to be part of it. Let him play with your cock. He wants to see you squirt and so do I. Mark it's only fair. He stopped struggling and let his body go limp. Tony tugged his pants down and began handling his cock. I resorted to this tactic because Mark always behaved like an innocent girl. I had to deny him the possibility of escape so that he would be compelled to give himself to both of us.

I whispered into his ear. “Give up all this remorseful shame and hifalutin morals and learn how to be dirty like us.”

The soft whispering in to his ear finally caused his cock to rise up hard and stiff. It was a paradox, but his capture also proved to be a liberation.

I whispered again. “Let the monkey boy bite your cock and lick your balls but save your untidy bottom for me.”

When he was still at St.Paul's, I fucked him every time he came by. In all the time I had never seen his jizum. Sometimes a wet spot on the bed but nothing more. This time, with Tony's help I was rewarded with long squirts in plain view. Just the sight was invigorating.

With all his demure and innocence, he was just like Tony. Even as the victim of unspeakable indignities, he needed to be the center of attention. I knew this and to waylay trouble, I found it necessary to cultivate a sexual relationship between these two boys if I was to live in peace.

A New Family Member

I was pleased that Mark had decided to stay. Anyone could look into Monkey boy's eyes and see his defiant mischief and cunning manipulation but Mark was different. Mark was irrevocably honest. I had no problem trusting him In addition to the studio as his private and personal bedroom, I gave him a small back room on the ground floor where he could set up an office to do my weekly accounts. Mark needed to feel purposeful. I was making an effort to satisfy that desire while giving him the illusion of independence.

When Monday rolled around I introduced him to cook and the houskeeper. “She is always having to pick up Monkey boy's clothes that he discards carelessly all over the house, Isn't that right Maria?”

The two women whose domain is the ground floor valued their employment far too much to intrude or pass judgment about the goings on in my den of inequity. They knew everything.

Continuing our tour, we walked down into the basement where my stores of alcohol were kept.

“Perhaps you could put some order into all this and while you are at it, pick something out for your night table.”

after pouring one for myself, I offered him a glass of fine brandy.

“Drink up angel so that you might join me in hell.”

He giggled but I was serious.

“Have another but drink quickly so that we may have one more.”

One of the pleasures of Mark besides his agreeable looks, sensitive nature and accommodating and supple bottom is that he becomes drunk so easily and once drunk he will allow himself to do anything. He eagerly takes my cock into his mouth like a born catamite.

“Why would you strive to be in heaven, strumming a harp, sitting on a boring cloud doing nothing other than adoring the almighty, when you could be with me down in hell. Wouldn't you rather have a hard cock going into your mouth and then up your ass?”

In the corner of the dusty basement is a cast off couch where I am able to fuck him.

My household is complete...for the moment.

The Need to Ramble

From the Middle Dutch, rammelen, a derivative of rammen "copulate," "used of the night wanderings of the amorous cat"

Now that the boys were occupied, Tony in school and Mark being gainfully employed with household affairs. However, Tony was a different story. He was volatile and required attention. Recently, he started to bring boys home from school for sex. Not all but some like Gilbert were very handsome. Even Mark was enamored with Gilbert. The 15 year old was a slender blond and in the middle of his growth spurt. He was also a cocky instigator. They would gang-up and enslave Mark. From what I understand Mark was well suited to the task of naked subservience.

Finally, I had the opportunity to resume my city walks. I would explore one neighborhood and then another but the place I felt most at home was in Greenwich Village. Between 14^th and Houston, between 6^th and the river was where the bohemian, musicians, artists and class mixers lived. Seeing a for rent sign in a window, piqued my interest.

To be con't

Please send comments to: larkin@tutanota.com...And I will respond