Date: Tue, 27 Feb 2024 08:50:13 +0000 From: Griz Subject: Harvard Comes To Montana - Chapter Twenty-Four "Harvard Comes To Montana" - Chapter Twenty-Four By Griz umgriz@protonmail.com Hi, Friends; I love your letters. They make me feel good about my often-bizarre arrangement of 26 letters in these chapters that help you feel good. I know these recent chapters have grown longer. So has my hair. So has the amount of time the Sun spends in the sky. I'm going to work toward the less-lengthy lengths. A few guys writing in have said they're digitally bookmarking pages because of how long the chapters are. "If a man is sitting on the toilet and his legs fall asleep before the chapter ends, it was too long." One of the readers, now a friend, wrote that to me. I like it so much, I'm going to work it into a story. Until then: Pawel, if your legs are falling asleep, you need more fiber in your diet. Also, I love you for being Polish and writing from Poland. I have no doubt we are related, or our families know each other, and that we'll meet someday and you can laugh at both my slaughter of all the Polski language I know, and I'll laugh at you because although you might have a big dick, it won't be as big as mine! Taki Wielki Kutas, Pawel! Truth: I love all of you. More truth: you make my story and my time growing up in Fergus County so pleasant to meld together. Final truth (for now): I have taken screen shots from the Earth app, and marked them somewhat legibly up. Thus far, they are of very real Lewistown, very real Fergus County, and very real locations within them from the story. If you'd like to see them, tell me in an email, and I'll send them. I apologize in advance for the scribbling; I'm still getting used to this Pencil thing on this iPad thing. Final-Final Truth: I'm sorry my chapter prologues are now almost as long as my chapters. And my big Polish dick. Griz *** The following story is a work of erotic fiction. If you are under the age of 18 or if this type of fiction is prohibited in the location where you are reading this, do not read any further. All characters and names are creations of the author. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Please show your support for Nifty, a great organization that gives opportunities to all types of authors to express themselves. To find out how you can contribute, go to donate.nifty.org/donate.html *** *********************************************************** I reached for the bottle of lube Marc had brought, which I noticed was conveniently sittin' right on the nightstand beside the bed. Oh, I liked this stuff.....I was almost out of the little bottle I'd bought in Missoula during a school trip. It served its purpose perfectly when I was by just myself. Now we could be scientific in a study about single usage vs double usage, and about the contrasting supply-and-demand economic theories of John Maynard Keynes and Milton Friedman that would, if I had anything to say about it, have to stand on its own merits. There would be no `double-blind, control group, peer-reviewed' anything to confirm our findings. That would involve other people, and while that part alone wasn't entirely discouraging to my febrile fuck fantasies, the sterile environments and everyone in white lab coats were definitely lethal to teen farm boy erections. I leaned down and kissed Marc. His hands hadn't moved from my hips, but he was now kneading my glutes just enough so I'd know where he planned on staking his territory. Marc was my Robert Scott and I was his Antarctica, and oh, did I welcome this moment of discovery. With a hand covered with lube, I reached between us and lifted my ass just a little to give a liberal coat of the slippery stuff to March's rock hardness. Even with rough skin and callouses on my hand, I could feel the pulse of his cock. Once Marc was lubed, I resumed kissing my man. My ass was still in the air; I hadn't resumed sitting down on Marc's hips. For the first time in my entire life thus far, I lubed the slightly fur-lined valley of my ass, and worked around my virgin hole. As erotic as I thought it was, this was preparation for the ultimate act of love and trust thus far between us. I wanted to move on from my own ministrations, though; what I was doing with lube and my fingers amounted to nothing more, as pleasurable as it was, than the fox guarding the chicken coop. Ugh.....somehow I've managed to write about Marc being a fox and a reference to myself as ersatz `chicken'. Nothing was going to kill the moment faster, so it was time to move myself and Marc past it. My kiss with Marc had to be the only thing I concentrated on. For much of the past several (but still only a few) days, all I seemed to focus on was kissing Marc if we could be alone for a minute or two together. If we were in the middle of one, I didn't want it to end. If we weren't kissing, I was pissed off because of it. This kiss was perhaps the most important one I'd give my man, because I was about to give him my virginity along with it. There could not be one without the other. Not for me, not for us. He could feel where I was going and what I was doing. I sensed a slight smile on his lips. I opened my eyes to see him looking into my own. My gosh. Please hypnotize me, Marc. Make both my pupils and my hole dilate----just a little, please (not too much). The time was here. I sat up a little higher, and still holding Marc's cock straight at the ceiling with one hand and the other on his powerful chest, I sat back ever-so slowly until the head of his cock touched my hole. We both groaned, but didn't stop that kiss. I might never actually experience my man's cock in my ass, but that shared kiss was not going to be interrupted for anything. To this day, I swear it was the latter that made the former possible. All of me trembled just a little as I let my 211 threshold-seeking pounds descend by millimeters against the slippery head of Marc's cock. Fuck, it hurt. Like no pain I'd ever known. It wasn't the worst pain, but it was definitely the first I'd ever encountered in the current location. Knowing billions of men had experienced this since we stepped down from the trees and out of the caves, and that probably most of them didn't stop at only one experience, I had an experience common to the historical confraternity of men just like me: The First Time of someone going in, not something coming out. Sure, they say to `breathe out', but again: the kiss was more important than anything else. I could breathe tomorrow. And probably cry a lot, too; depending on how that night ultimately went. Marc never applied downward pressure on my hips. They were there for, if nothing else, steadfast guidance on course and moral support. It was time, and I took it. Just a little more.....relax just a little more, Jozef.....aaaaaaand.....pop. There it was. Both Marc and I smiled. Well, HE smiled. I grimaced in pain comparable to being the sole target of the Mt Vesuvius eruption, destroying my pompous Pompeii pooper. Marc thought it was a smile, bless him. The descent continued, no longer hesitant, but still slow. It was convenient doing this in Billings, where no one I knew in the hospital there could stitch me back up and then tell everyone in Lewistown by way of Miss Patsy at the Pizza Hut; but I had complete control over the ambulance being called to the Sheraton----or not. Marc was so kind and loving to me. He made not one move, other than with his tongue against my own, to hurry or slow the course his cock was on in search of my prostate. In what seemed like hours, my hole was finally greeted by the soft hair around the base of Marc's cock (I loved that he groomed himself, but didn't clear-cut that beautiful forest). I lingered that kiss for a few seconds longer, sighing with contented relieve that there was still only one of me in the room instead of a neatly-split-up-the-middle left and right side. I raised my head, but didn't sit up. We needed to see each other at that moment. I wanted to see the man I'd just given myself to, and I wanted him to see me; the man whose insides were hugging, voluntarily or not, his invading cock. This had gone exactly how I'd hoped: no hesitation, no tears, no more waiting for This Day to arrive. The look on my man's face was so sweet and loving. "Thank you, Babe." "You're welcome, Boyfriend. Give me a moment to adjust to this. You've taken me; now I want you to mark me." Marc's head was on his pillow, but a wide smile grew on his face and he only nodded a few times. After maybe another 30 seconds, I rocked forward just a bit. I'd seen that in porn, when the bottom is riding the top. Supposedly, it can cause the cock to HIT THAT FUCKIN' PROSTATE RIGHT THERE. I shouted `HOLY FUCK!' and rolled my eyes so far back, my pupils were seeing nothing but a black void. Oh, my gosh. So porn wasn't entirely a fantasy. That really can happen. It just did. Know what else can really happen? A newly-minted-no--longer-virgin can have an involuntary orgasm and launch a multi-shot orgasm all the way to the wall behind the bed, to the headboard, to Marc's hair, to his face, right into his smiling mouth, onto his chest (many times) and finally, that adorable hidden belly button. Damn. DAMN. I shuddered in reaction to such primordial proof that I was not only a human male, but both wide awake and, being a human male, ready to roll over and go to sleep. In my favor, though (and humbly, I presumed, in Marc's favor and desire): I was a teenager. I was good for eight more of those before I really needed to sleep and recharge. My ass, though, really wanted to encourage Paco to just go ahead and get some rest, so he could, too. Marc felt me shudder. "Babe, damn! You okay?!" "Sheesh.....I am. I'm sorry, Marc; that wasn't supposed to happen until at least Midnight. `First Time Syndrome', I guess. That happened in spite of myself trying to please you, too." I rested my embarrassed forehead on his chest. He wrapped both hands around my neck and giggled. "I'd be very fine to let you be embarrassed by yourself, but umm.....I can't. At least not honestly....." I raised my head and looked at him with what I'm sure was curiosity and confusion all over my face. Marc giggled again and made a cartoon face of his own eyes rolling back in his head, and then spazzed his entire body beneath me. "WHAT?! You, too?" "Oh, yeah. You probably didn't notice because your body was busy shaking the entire bed." "WOW! Unlike mine, though, your prostate wasn't even approached by a body part not your own! Why'd that happen so fast for you?" "Two reasons I can think of: one, it was the First Time for both of us, so self-control wasn't really something I knew how to handle from experience. Two, I was looking at the hottest farmer I've ever seen, he's on a bed with me, and I was thinking, `He's mine'." But don't be disappointed, Babe; the night's still young, and so are we. There's a lot more where that came from. Kiss me, Jozef. I'm still coming down from our First Time and each other's First Time. Only a kiss will calm all the aftershocks of that major quake." I smiled and leaned back down to meet my lips on his. I managed to renegotiate my hip-straddle into something that, while looking a little awkward, allowed me to keep my man inside me while I laid right on top of him so we could kiss. Marc's arms moved to my back and my ass. Mine were slightly beneath his back. We kissed forever, and were still hard forever. The Sun was now fully gone, and street lights were the view outside the hotel room window. Another day was passing, but not without a few interesting moments---and one monumental moment----happening during those twenty--four hours. If I had my way, if I played my cards right, if I paid attention to my parents and many grandparents, I could have a lifetime of days with Marc and me, fully involved in each other's lives and ending with us tangled up among the sheets on a big bed, sharing a tender kiss between us. With a few minutes of rest and nothing spoken between us, we both got up and wandered into the bathroom. I thought I'd have other emergent issues, but seems we both only had full bladders. I also brushed my teeth. No shortage of spices in Mediterranean food, so no shortage of Colgate on my toofers. While we were in the bathroom and looking at each other in the huge mirror above the sinks, Mark reached and rubbed my lower back, then gently patted my freshly-fucked ass. "How're are you doing back here?" I giggle and shrugged, but smiled with my entire face at Marc. "Okay.....I guess. `Before' was new, `During' was new, and now.....well, I'm doing all right, I think. I had no reference before, but now: no complaints, that's for sure." "Ah, but you're not sure about ALL of it, I'm hearing?" "I'd say that's accurate. You know, so I CAN be sure, we should, um, go again." "Sounds good to me! But you know it won't be the first time again....." I smiled at him and walked out of the bathroom, pausing in the doorway with my back to him, but keeping my face on his in the mirror. I shook my ass suggestively. "And this definitely won't be the last time. You done in there, or are you hintin' you want to `break in' the bathroom, too?" "I can't even imagine how we'd.....oh, wait.....I guess I can imagine. Bent over the counter, facing the mirror. I'll add it to the list. You should see your face when you cum. Looks like you're having a religious experience." I reached for his hand, which he gave me, and we walked back into the bedroom. The city lights were actually farther-reaching than I thought they'd be. They twinkled, and I imagined happy people living in the houses on those tree-lined city streets. I hoped they all had within them people in love, or the capacity for that, but regardless: at least one cat and dog in each. A house without a pet might call itself a home, but how would it ever prove that? "Marc, thank you for making my first time perfect. I honestly hadn't thought much about ever having one. And certainly not at this point in my young life." "You're welcome, Babe. My first time was perfect, too. Wanna know a secret?" "I want to know almost all your secrets. So sure, go ahead." "From the day I met you, if I had any `alone time', I got all of Me involved in playing out the fantasy of our first time together. Riding back from the highway with you in your truck was the best fifteen minutes commuting that I can recall. I knew then I wanted to.....well, lots of things, but this.....this, tonight, was definitely one of them. Wait----why only `almost all' my secrets?" "Because I want always to have new things to learn about you, Boyfriend. Maybe that'll be new experiences you have, and maybe once in awhile, I'll learn something about you that is for you and me only. Something no one else knows, but I know, because I'll have earned your trust before you tell me. Um, if I may ask, when did you know I was someone more than just the next guy to blow you?" "Or the next guy I would blow.....consider everything, Babe. I'll tell you when I knew. It was Sunday morning. You were here. You and your mother and brother were waiting for your father to arrive by plane. Before you and I talked on the phone, you found out he had suffered a heart attack and died while in flight. Despite that, you talked on the phone with me, and because of that, I knew you wouldn't be a `farm boy toy'. Actually, there was a moment before then, that I suspected as much. That was earlier, when you dropped me off at The Grandies' house. I asked for a kiss, and you said `no kisses on first dates'. We obviously had a mutual attraction, but that wasn't enough for you to give up a kiss to a stranger. I got instant respect for you for saying that. So, that's me; same question back to you, Babe." "Right about the first time you called me `Babe'." "Really?" "Yeah, give or take a little on that time frame. I knew earlier that I wanted more time with you before you returned to Harvard, and yeah, I wanted Harvard to come IN Montana, not just TO Montana. Then you said, "I like you". And then, just before you fell asleep one night, you said, "I love you". I was sure you meant that, just as I meant it when I told you I loved you; even if we hadn't expressed that to any other guys in our lives, we were sincere in the expression meaning something to each other. So it was at some point in all of that, in all of the twists and turns in our lives since we met, that I wanted to have this very conversation with you. And here we are, Marc." "I think we're sincere and honest. Do you think we're sincere and honest?" "I think so, yes. Certainty built on Time will only cement us, Boyfriend. And yeah, I say that with all the precocious arrogance of a seventeen-year-old. I know that I'm being true to myself. I want this. And I want to give you this. Again. NOW." I smiled and pulled Marc from the window, if for no other reason than to not be seen by Grace or Carl if they were watching out the windows of their houses, eyes glued to binoculars. I couldn't really blame them, if they did; I knew I'd rather watch one really hot guy with one reasonably okay-looking guy together in a hotel room instead of Netflix. Marc and I collapsed on the big hotel bed. I looked at the wall behind the bed, as well as the headboard. My contribution of pure protein to the room decor might've made John Waters smile, but I was not certain the Sheraton shareholders would agree that it'd drive up business to the property. "Marc, um, you saw where `I' went flyin' out of me. I think I should take care of that before the Housekeeping people---or the next guests in this room---see it." Marc craned his head around to see what I was looking at. "If I were a complete perv and moral degenerate, I'd just get on my knees and lick all of that from wherever I found it. I gotta tell you: you taste fantastic. It wasn't my first time in that regard, but considering this time wasn't my intention to have it in my mouth, its surprise landing made me appreciate it even more." I leaned forward and kissed him. Nice thing to say. Marc might've said something else if that cum had landed in his eye, instead. Maybe I'd take down the poster of the Reagans covering the dart board in my bedroom and work on my aim so I'd never shoot in Marc's eyes. Or, I'd maybe just leave the poster where it was, and work on my aim so I shot directly in Ron and Nancy's eyes. It'd certainly add context to all that `trickle-down' nonsense. I could just keep writing about more `he said'-`he said', `he cummed'-`he cummed', but you get the idea: Marc and I were in a hotel room together. We'd just made love for the first time in.....a hotel room. No, wait.....you already knew that part. Oh! Yeah! In the butt. That's what I meant. You know how that works already, but I don't need to tell you everything and risk boring you about Marc boring into me. That last one was like Marc drilling into me like he'd found a new diamond vein in a Kimberly cave. Let's just say that we proved we were, indeed, still young enough to repeat lotsa cum-summation of our deeply-held affectionate convictions for each other. I don't remember who yawned first, nor who yawned last. We eventually just placed a virtual bookmark in the evening's activities so we could resume them another time. If I had my way, `that time' would be as soon as either one of us getting up in the middle of the night to pee. I could just hear the conversation: "Babe, where're you going?" "To find out how cold the water in the toilet is. And how deep." "Whaaaat? Oh, geez. I'd say you're exaggerating your size, but then I'D be the one telling the fib." "Yeah, I wish I had a ladder to stand on. The last time I decided to try this aquatic temperature experiment, I sat down. Everything was okay until I flushed. I howled, despite how good my dick suddenly felt. Dad came running to help me reel Paco back in from the septic tank outside the house." "What happened after that?!" "Dad took me to the doctor to make sure I was okay. I was, but he warned both Dad and me that it'd only get worse, once I entered Puberty." Since it was an unlikely conversation, I curled up in Marc's arms and we both nodded of to The Land Of Nod. I hoped the sleep would be the only-fantasized-about eight hours of zzz-time, but it probably would be the usual five or six. With no chickens or horses to attend to, no Guernsey to milk and no lost Harvard professors to find running in the dark, I'd have nothing to do but lie there, maybe this time, with Marc in my arms. I guess I'd find out in a few hours, but until thenzzzzz..... Morning came, but not as early as was usual for me or any other farmer actually on-duty. I actually slept until 6:00AM. Marc was still asleep, so I stood before yawning and stretching. We were now in August, and the Sun was sleeping in later, too. Regardless of the day on the calendar, I would win that race with the sun; though to be candid, I'd really love the day to come when I wasn't the first of us to `rise and shine'. I quietly retrieved my iPad from my backpack and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I read emails, and then sent one to Ms Garcia in Great Falls. I apologized for not contacting her before Monday, and said that my life was as full after harvest as it was before and during, and that on behalf of Sebastian and myself, a State Fair show wasn't possible. I thanked her for the generous and precedent-setting offer, and hoped that some kid somewhere had a steer and some time for both of them to wow the world with their achievements and growth together. After I sent that email, I wanted to Unsend it, but things were so up in the air as regarded Sebastian and Ross Sweeney and myself. That was a situation that would consume much of my impending time, but it had to be resolved. After talking with Marc on the way to Billings yesterday, I felt confident there was a way out for the three of us that would save everyone's face. Then I read the news; first local, then state, then national and international. Anyone could argue that a farm league baseball game was just a local and non-lethal version of a war somewhere. It's still `us-versus-them'. Someone has to win so some people could feel good about something, but curiously, someone had to lose for the same other people to feel good about something. Or themselves. I'd never yet read of a war or a sports game with both sides joining together to celebrate the end of that challenge. I will say, though......the thought of Russell Wilson and Tom Brady meeting on the field after a game to lead their teams in a celebratory gay orgy, complete with all the Bud Light-sponsored drag queens from the half-time show.....well, I think anyone would like to see that, too. Anyone with sense, that is. Despite all my desires to talk with Aleksy about Montana vs MSU (another football gay orgy I'd like to see after their next game), we didn't get it done. Emergencies both on and off the farm kept both my brother and me too busy to really sit and talk. As I looked at both websites and the degrees and courses offered, I decided to stick with my original plan: BA in Business Management at Montana, for now. MBA later. Can't get both at once, but the imagined challenge made my mouth water. Surely someone has to be the first to achieve that, just like someone had to be the first from Fergus County to take a purple-winning Black Angus steer to the State Fair. Somehow I could imagine Rogers & Hammerstein & Sondheim resurrecting and writing an entire musical about that..... I made notes, too, of things to discuss with Mom and my brother. Sanger Farm things. Follow up on what might come of twelve baby berneezers. Sure, she was Aleksy's dog; but I wanted to go on record expressing how much I loved that little family----particularly one, who had been officially pre-adopted over to me. Gotta do right by all thirteen, not just my little guy. Lots to do, or at least lots to discuss, back home after tomorrow. Marc's job interview was also taking up some of my cranial capacity. Not only did he have that to contend with, but his home, property and effects in Massachusetts, too. I would not bring those things to his attention; he already knew fully well about them. What I could do, though, was offer support to him, whenever he needed it, in making those decisions. Having my boyfriend, my man, living and working in the same county as my family and me? Maybe sometimes in the same house with us? It made me giddy. Those educators, and those being educated, were going to be lucky and blessed at the same time. Marc had, like Mr B, the opportunity to affect future generations with what he could get accomplished in this one. And you know how I'll discuss future generations: at the drop of a hat. After about ninety minutes online, I opened the door and crept out to the bedroom. Sitting up in bed was Marc, looking at his own iPad (heh.....don't talk to me about drinking the `Apple Kool-Aid', Boyfriend!). He looked so studious and professorly, sporting both bed head and reading glasses. Marc looked up and saw me, smiling. Of course I smiled back at him; he had one of two things I wanted from him that morning. One, more of what we bookmarked only a few hours ago, or if there would be no more of that, then Two, my virginity back. One or the other. You don't get to keep both, Boyfriend. He patted the space next to him on the bed and pulled the sheet back. I joined him, and we sat shoulder-to-shoulder, despite there being enough room on that bed to afford us some space between us. `Space between us' was already highly over-rated. We talked for a bit, and I brought up my finalized-almost-certain-tentative-plan to go forward with my U of Montana scholastic plan. "Babe, are you sure you don't want to attend at least your first year on campus? Really, there's nothing like being amidst the multi-cultural experience and relative absence of relatives, mostly in the form of `adults'." "I'd like that very much, but even with Aleksy back on the farm, there's a lot to do. There'll be even more to do if we buy a thousand more acres. That's thirty-three percent more. I don't see that working efficiently if two people are expected to do that much more than what three people were already struggling to do with only the current acreage." "Okay, but here or there: you have school to do. If you're there, you can concentrate on it. If you're here, you're going to be closing your books and riding out to the North Forty every time there's a calf missing. I hope I'm not sounding like a total jerk for advocating for an in-class education, Babe." "You're not. Not at all. We have an impasse of experience, that's all. You aren't seeing from my experience that farm responsibility is the first responsibility. And I don't see your experiences of getting three degrees that I know of, and writing three books that I know of, all while being in actual classrooms. That was your first responsibility." "Heh.....you're right, and I promise: no post-doctoral pursuits for me, but I can't promise there won't be more books. I seem to do well on both sides of the publishing house: reading books or writing them. I think I can understand, though, that if you were at The Other Harvard, you wouldn't really be concentrating, would you? Not on school work....." "No, honestly, I don't think I would. I'd probably be neglecting any class to sneak in a peek at commodity prices, weather reports, emails from the folks and farm, and just about anything else that I've grown up doing already. Now I think I'M sounding like a jerk." "You're not, Babe. Look, here or there, I support you in your academic career AND your farm career. I think you are the most amazing high school graduate, ever in Montana. You are unlike anyone else I've met at any of the schools I've attended. If anyone can marry a school and a farm and make a life out of it, that `anyone' is you. And for any further discussion on this, don't hesitate. I will always want to discuss your future, our future, and I will always make time for you." Damn. Fucked the night before, and fuckin' ready to cry right now. What a pussy. *AHEM* `What a polite farm boy who loves pussy cats and newborn puppies.' Sure. That's what I meant to write. Now where's that box of Kleenex..... I smiled at Marc and asked him if he would be bothered with me making a phone call while we're still being domestic (in bed). He smiled and shook his head, and went back to reading. I knew I needed to bring my boy up to speed on what I was doing. We were only rarely more than five miles from each other, and while we weren't co-dependent on each other at all, we still kept each other in the loop on our general where-abouts and well-being. "Whaddayouwant? You callin' because the truck broke down? Maybe you need bailin' outta jail?" "Tom, you're a Prime, Grade-A pain in my ass, you know that?" "For five years now. I'd say my track record proves I'm consistent. So if you're not in trouble, what're you doing calling so early? I was just about to take my 8:00AM nap. Oh----wait----you just gave me a hint: `Pain In The Ass'. Kidding.....continue." My heart stopped for a moment, but then continued when I remembered who was on the phone with me. We used to have contests to see who could be the most vulgar. We'd say the most ridiculous stuff, none of it bad, despite our trying to sound older and lascivious, when we were fourteen years old. Maybe I'd tell my boy about what a `pain in the ass' can really mean, but right then? I hadn't eaten breakfast. I needed at least coffee and a muffin before I started in on recent hours in otherwise-Bucolic Billings. "You and I didn't talk about this, but Marc and I are staying a second night down here." "I've only been to Billings a couple of times, but I don't remember there bein' a lot to attract tourists for more than half a day. That is, outside of a hotel room.....you n' Marc didn't attract any tourists there, didja?" I refused to rise to the bait. You're a fucker, Tommy. "Well, there's the mall.....and surely miniature golf somewhere....." "Probably at the mall. You'd better get there early; don't wanna stand around all day in what I'm sure isn't a line of hard-core, small-ball sports fans....." "Well, at least Billings HAS a mall and golf course.....somewhere. Can your town say the same? You miss ANYTHING about Tulsa?" "Heck, yeah. I miss seeing the sign that reads, `You Are Now Leaving Tulsa'. What're you doing down there, besides breaking at least a few laws by merely existing?" "Oh.....well, can't break one of those laws.....again....." "K, wake up!" I sat up immediately. WHAT?! Tom, do NOT over-share with sweet, innocent Kristi! "Why?! I was just getting back to sleep!" "TOM! K's there with you?" "Well, umm, yeah....." "Tommy, why are you and Jeffrey talking so early? Hi, Jeffrey!" "I dunno; he called me. I think he wants to brag, if I'm hearin' him right. Just what do you mean, `can't break one of those laws anymore'? I know you've run red lights.....while driving well over the speed limit.....hmmm.....K, Jeffrey says he n' Marc are criminals." Kristi began screaming like a banshee. "OMG! You guys DID IT! Tom! Jeffrey and Marc did THE NASTY!" Tom was no better restrained in his enthusiasm. "You guys did?! It was in the hotel, though, right? I mean, not in your truck at a red light or anything like that, right?" "WOULD YOU TWO TAKE A BREATH?! Sheesh.....okay, FINE. I might've let that `broke a law or two' comment out without thinking first, but yes, Marc and I are officially together in the physically intimate regard of that phrase. Happy now?!" "Heck, yeah! I'm REAL happy! K, you owe me a dollar!" "Wait.....you were gambling about this??!" "We started bettin' on yer booty last week, but upped the ante Saturday at the rodeo. All those bulls and studs around, but you two only saw each other. It was only a matter of time, but I'm glad you got it over with. Each day was raising the stakes, and I gotta save money for school." "Tommy, don't tell Jeffrey ALL the stuff!" "Just give me the dollar, and I won't say nothin' more." "Umm.....Tom, what more is there to say? Spill it, you Panhandle Pervert." "Ohhhh, just the `call coincidence', I guess.....pretty amazing. I'm glad K and I didn't bet `double or nothin' on yer timing, too. Well, and ours....." "Wait----two plus two equals YOU did it, too! Didn't you?! Marc! Tommy and Kristi did.....well, you know!" Marc laughed. "Go, Team! Okay, Babe; this is the weirdest phone call of all time.....I'm gonna go shower. You remember where that is, when you're done bragging and being bragged to?" All of us laughed at Marc, and he got up and kissed my forehead before walking to the bathroom. "Well, I'll be danged; my two best friends are now my one united best friend. Um, you were, um, careful, right?" "Oh, of course; we made sure to wait until my folks went to sleep." "Dork. That's not what I mean! You took precautions.....right? At least one?" "Well, of course, Jeffrey. No one is pregnant. We took a page outta your playbook." "You mean.....you did it up the....." "NO!!! Well, not yet.....we'll get to it.....I hope. OW! Just kidding, K! NO, Jeffrey, we used a condom! Um, actually, two.....that I can see on the floor. Might be another one, under the bed.....YOU used a condom, right?" Silence from me, because what'm I gonna say to that? We didn't. "Jeffrey.....RIGHT?" "Goddamnit.....no. THERE. I said the quiet part out loud. I hope you're happy." "NO, I'm not happy! What were you thinking?! Or WERE you thinking?!" "All I've done is think about this, since 5:30AM, two Sundays ago. Why are you gettin' so worked up about this? We were each other's first for, well, `you know'; and each other's first in a long time for `everything else'." "Because I'm too young!" "YOU'RE `too young'?? `Too young' for what?!" "To be a goddamned godfather! Tell me right now, Mister, how you can be so sure you're not pregnant! `Even once is enough!' We read it in our Health and P.E. book, and Ms Mathers made us repeat it out loud all the time!" More silence, and then both my boy and I burst out into a fit of laughter that would've awakened the entire hotel on all twenty floors. It took awhile to calm down, too. Marc peeked around the bathroom door to look at me skeptically, a toothbrush in his mouth and his morning erection holding up the wash cloth. "Tommy, why do you think I'D be the pregnant one?! And choose your next words VERY CAREFULLY!" "Because! Your butt was born to be a bottom. Also, just LOOK at Marc. Any guy, straight or gay, alive or dead, would want to at least consider `it' with him. Heck, even I would.....well, maybe.....but K got to me first, so....." More laughter. That time I could hear K joining in. Was there any more ice to ever be broken between him and me? Them and us? I hoped so. I hoped the four of us would have a lifetime together of more mornings filled with laughter, all because there was something new to know about each other. "Also, Jeffrey.....well, not to swell yer already-fat head or nothin', but Marc's gonna have to work up to his `first time' with you. I'm rememberin' why you never got bullied in high school, and for one obvious, even-when-you're-cold-it's-huge, reason. Heck, the fully-padded varsity footballers were afraid of pissin' you off." Kristi shrieked with laughter. "I'm covering my ears now, which I should've done the moment Tommy picked up the phone! LALALALALA!!!!!" "Damnit, Tommy.....! I'm sorry my phone was charged this morning! I could've gone all day without this conversation, but too late now!" "Then why did you call me?! So you're stayin' in town another night! That hotel might just turn a profit this month." "You really don't like Billings, do you?" "No. Neither do the people in Missoula, Bozeman, Helena, Great Falls, Butte or Kalispell. Buncha rednecks down there." "Well, I certainly can't argue that point. I'll share all the details about yesterday with you, later this week. Anyway, we're headed to Costco while down here, and there's also Tractor and Supply and other places our quiet little village doesn't exactly have in abundance. You need or want anything from here?" "Uh, nope.....yeah, I mean, but nope. Need to smooth out too much stuff yet." "Yeah, I know. Harvest will be behind Farm W tomorrow. Trust me, it'll be the next topic of conversation. Seriously, Tommy. You want anything from here, just for you?" "Nah, but thanks. Just be careful down there in the Big City. When you comin' back?" "No later than Noon Wednesday. Marc's interview with the school district is at 3:30." "Hey, on that.....did you or Marc know it's gonna be during an actual school board meeting?" "No, but I guess to be official, all five board members and Mr B would need to be there, so that makes sense." "Jeffrey, it's an open meeting for this. Anyone in town can attend." "Oh, for fuck's sake! How does an interview need to be held public? If it's gonna be in a public forum, is it also a plebiscite, too? `Thumbs up or thumbs down'? I doubt Emil dreamed this up....." "Nope. It's those rabid PTA-ers, just like the ones on social media. They also want all teacher considerations to be public, too. I don't envy Marc or anyone taking over that superintendent job. There's not enough money to have those frothin' folks in my head for twenty-four hours a day." "Damn.....Mom is friends with three of `em. I wonder if she even knows..... Sounds like someone wants a bully pulpit. I'm sure Marc can handle `em; he had a run-in with someone yesterday who decided to throw some serious shade our way, but they weren't successful. I'll tell ya about it when we get back. How'd you find out about this open meeting and interview?" "Mom was at the truck stop, buying dyed #2 for the tractor. She heard two folks talkin' about it. Everyone wants to see the guy who whipped Junior's ass at the fair. If ya ask me, this is a center ring circus event, and they're gonna haul out the lion and make him do tricks in exchange for a full-time, cheap-assed treat. Of course, Mom and Dad will be there. Trace and Toby, too. I MIGHT go.....just to watch you walk in kinda funny.....you know, like you might still be recoverin' from a long ride in Billings. Uh, I mean, TO Billings.....and, well, back home again..... "Other than your seriously inappropriate remarks at the end of that long-winded oratorio of yours, which I will make it my church-goin' duty to overlook and then forget promptly, that's some right-interestin' news. About the school board interview going public, though.....Someone has an endgame in mind, I suspect; and isn't being honest about it." "Everyone at every level is a politician these days, I guess. Wouldn't surprise me in the least if the local dog catcher delivers a campaign speech written by some cranky incel podcaster. Thanks for the offer of something from Billings, Bud; just you n' Marc get back safely. Everything else can fall into place after. Oh---now that I know you'll be finding new ways to live out your older man porn fantasies for another night, you need me to go check on yer critters?" "I got yer `fantasy', right here. No, thanks. I know my little guy and my big guy will be fed and watered." "Lemme know if you change your mind. We're gonna get cleaned up here and take a ride over to Eva's. Seems K has a job plan she wants to share. Take care, Bud." "You, too. Tell K good luck. I already talked her up to Eva, but I don't think that was at all necessary." We hung up. Best friend in the world. Well, one-half of the best friend in the world. Both of those kids were kind, compassionate and loving, and not just for me: for each other. The first part of the call was fun to have, but just like everything else my boy and I discussed, we were serious throughout the laughter. I heard the water in the shower, so I stripped down and then brushed my teeth. I saw Marc behind the glass, just letting the water run down and around his head. Hmmm.....the man at The Athenian was certain Marc was Greek. I hadn't really thought about it, but what was Marc's heritage? He could be anything and everything, but he was obviously of his grandmother's family. Her own features, while softer due to time and gray hair, were unmistakable in Marc. If his future included gray hair like hers, I would lust for him on that detail alone. Wherever his family emigrated from, they took with them the most attractive genetic combinations to ever contribute to Marc's twenty-three pairs of chromosomes. While I would not put myself in Marc's league, Teigan was probably right: we'd have a good-looking family. Once my mouth was fresh, I opened the shower door and joined Marc. His eyes were closed, but he smiled and held his arms out to me. I walked right into them, and we embraced. I moved my feet out quite a bit to the sides so I could park my head on Marc's chest. I could feel his heart beating. Made me think of my little guy riding with Tommy to the vet, his little body kept as comfortable and comforted, too, by the heartbeat sound that was in the box with him. Now he was back with his mom, I was with my man, and all the hearts that could beat together were doing just that, and the little guy and I were comfortable and comforted. "How'd you sleep, Babe?" "I don't know. I don't know IF I slept. I kept trying to, but that would require me to relax, and I'd just spent the previous hour NOT relaxed. Everything just kept playing over and over again inside me. So many new things in my life, and in such a short period of time." "Jozef, you've been on the planet for such a short period of time. I hope you slept, but the room is ours for another twenty-four hours or so. We just need to give Housekeeping an opportunity to put Humpty-Dumpty back together again at some point. We, uh, kinda tore that bed up.....at least twice, that I can remember....." "Sure did, Boyfriend. After spending time at Jason's and getting a fresh appreciation for how fabric is put together, you n' I also took some apart. Oh, damn.....I hope I didn't.....well, I....." "You didn't, and you're fine. I woke up around an hour before you did. I watched you sleep, and since you were in some other dimension, I checked out both sheets. No one in the hotel basement is going to be carrying on about what looks like a twelve-ounce combination of tapioca puddin', sour cream and marshmallow fluff in the middle of all that cotton." "Are you sure? Check in here: maybe you shot it in further than you think, and it's gonna come out the other end." "Damn, you're silly.....but okay." I opened my mouth and brought it to Marc's. He did exactly what I hoped he would, and I pressed my chest to his, so his back was firmly against the shower wall. That kiss was the first one since the last one, and it was the best one yet. I know that sounds all kinds of hokey, but I meant it. We learned more about each other all the time. We shared more with each other. And we experienced more together. Yesterday, it was setting up a room in a house together. Then it was looking for clothing that we knew possibly only we, ourselves, would ever see and appreciate. It ended hours later with me giving to Mark a very private, very precious part of myself, in a moment that I honestly had never really thought would happen. Maybe in seventeen years, not enough time and experience had passed to fully understand what it means to give one's inexperienced body and to take love in return. It was a huge leap of trust and faith for both Marc and me. Daddy told me it could only ever happen once, and that it was my body, mine to do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, and with whomever I wanted. My only obligation was to myself. To be true to myself about what mattered, and who mattered. All other obligations, particularly to Marc, would be met as a result. I felt confident, maybe only hours later, that I had paid enough attention to Dad to have learned that he was right in all regards, yet again. I made the right decision at the right time with the right man. As we stood under the shower head, I had a curious and untimely thought: Wherever `Marc's Marker Of Me' from last night went, I have no idea. Maybe I absorbed it. I remember sneezing at some point.....maybe I should go inspect the drapes and walls, just to be sure it's not on them. I knew I wasn't going to worry about it being up on the popcorn ceiling, if that's where it was now living; no one would know it's there. If so: Millions of Microscopic Marcs, looking down on Daddy and.....well, Other Daddy. "Boyfriend, umm, you hungry at this exact moment?" "Mmm.....no, I guess not. I don't have an appetite first thing in the morning. How about you?" "I'm the same. I will be hungry, though. Since we're not gonna rush outta here for some French Toast, I was wondering if.....well, we could make sure yesterday wasn't a dream. I'm still feeling kinda dreamy in all this steamy. Do you think you could, maybe, provide a not-so-instant replay highlights of the experience, with some color commentary?" "Babe, for you: anything. You ready?" "Officially." "Okay, try to relax....." "I'm relaxed....." "Damn, Babe; I'm glad you wanted this, because I've wanted to share it with you since I heard you and Tom on the phone....." "Awww.....yer teasin' me, and that ain't nice! Just give it to me!" "WHY DO YOU WANT TWO CHAIRS YOU ARE SINGLE A SINGLE MAN DOESN'T NEED TWO CHAIRS IN ONE BEDROOM THE PRICE IS NOW TRIPLE YOU BAD BUTT BANDITS!" I was laughing so hard, I had to sit down on the shower floor. `Replay From Yesterday', indeed! Not quite what I had in mind----nor what you had in mind----but now I was thinking I got what I asked for. Would I ever stop laughing..... Eventually, I did stop, and eventually, we got clean. There's a big difference between on-the-farm-twelve-grains-per-gallon hard water and the softened water in a hotel. Our water tastes great; their water creates mounds of suds from a drop of shampoo. "Marc, you can do a really good `Grace', but I was really wanting to, well....." "Why are you suddenly so shy? Because the lights are on? Trust me, you're the most beautiful man I've ever fucked." "WHAT?! I thought I was the ONLY man you've ever fucked!" "We're both right, which means twice as much. So. Are you suddenly not shouting out plays like Russell Wilson to the Seahawks in the Super Bowl?" "Did I do that? I did no such thing." "Well, true.....Russ was quieter....." "But you're onto something there....." "And you'd like it if I got onto your Farm Boy Butt here?" "OH, yeah. I have new enthusiasm this morning." "You had plenty last night. I think you were enthusiastic three times, actually. Maybe four. I passed out at some point." "Well, actually, it's for Tommy's sake." "Ummm.....'Tommy'? Go on....." "He says he's too young to be a godfather, but I could hear the sound in his voice. I bet as we speak he and K are planning a baby shower. I can deny my boy nothing. So, I think, just to please those two and for no selfish reason of my own, you should get right back in the game and score more touchdowns." "Why? I won the Big Ring on the field last night." "Which resulted in my ring being big this morning, I'm sure; but just pretend you're getting some friction. C'mon; it'll build your appetite for Denny's." "Denny's?!?" "This is Billings, remember?" Marc rolled his eyes and I reached outside the shower for the little bottle of hair conditioner. Meh. Conditioner. But any port in a storm, right? As was my new and thoroughly-enjoyable custom, I got on my knees, keeping my eyes on Marc's, licking and kissing him all the way down. Damn, the effect he had on me was instantaneous. He barely touched my dick with his big toe, and I involuntarily pulled my knees back. "Sorry, Babe; didn't mean to `toe' you so hard." "You didn't do it too hard. It was better than `just right', actually. I was about to cum, just seeing those two near each other." "We'll hold off, then. I just like seeing you naked. You're the perfect farm boy. You have all the right-----everything. I am irredeemably in love with every inch of you, from head to toes, from base to drooling slit." We'd shared enough talk. I took Marc by the base of his cock and moved my mouth all over its perfect, hard, coke-can self. Knowing full-well today what that dick was capable of the night before, I had new-found reverence and appreciation for it. Because Marc liked more than anything (before last night, anyway) was for me to actually suck him slowly while.....well, sucking him, I took my own sweet time working my way from the head to where my nose would land in all the glorious, thick, rich, almost-black forest of fur that waited patiently for its arrival there. Marc was making all the right sounds (I was open to hearing all except `NO TEETH!!!'). He held the back of my head both gently and firmly, and all of a sudden, I was breathing out of the back of my head by instinct. I wasn't going to pull away; I'd worked FOR HOURS DOWN THERE to earn my `Frogman' reputation. I could tell he was not disappointed, and I sure wasn't, either. I held on to his legs, the thick muscles that supported both of us at the moment. I moved back on Marc's dick and my hands up to his chest. I have long arms, and I worked them all over the hot, wet and the-other-kind-of-hot man in the shower with me. His nipples were erect, and he had no objection to their gentle manipulation. I was not one for enduring pain while trying to achieve pleasure, and I had no pleasure in bringing pain to anyone. Marc moved his hands up my arms and covered my own dextrous digits with the strong palms that had known every inch of me only hours before. They were welcome wherever Marc wanted them to be on me. He pulled gently on them, indicating he was ready for the second down. So I stood, and this time, I pulled Marc's head and held his face to my chest. I wasn't ashamed of what I had, but I was self-conscious enough to know that if I wanted to have even half of Marc's powerful chest, I'd have to work harder throwing bales of straw around. I'm sure it would look kinda silly to try to bench-press one, but I've done sillier things. I've told you about many of `em. I remember a book I saw once, about a bodybuilder and his boyfriend----Bob Paris and Rod Jackson. It was a long time ago, but their attraction to each other and their openness in discussing their relationship made a lot of news back then. They were beautiful men, and beautiful together. For awhile, anyway. `What goes up, must come down', even for Beautiful People. Those bodybuilders, Marc, plenty of other Beautiful People: they're who the rest of us wanted, or wanted to be. I was no exception. In fact, I was both. Maybe because I wasn't looking for Marc when I found him, nor was I looking for any man, I felt fine in my own skin. I wouldn't scare horses or make babies cry with my appearance. From the age of fourteen, I had planned for plenty of time before I needed to begin looking for anyone: I had two degrees to get, a farm to run with my parents, and become a veterinarian: so much to do, so it'd be awhile before a Marc would ever need rescuing from a dark highway. But then, my plans rearranged. Suddenly I'd be running a ranch with my mom only. The school pursuit was in question. And within all that, a Marc, indeed, needed rescuing from a dark highway. My attraction to Marc was instantaneous, from the moment I handed him a bottle of water and an old Twinkie in the dark, two Sundays ago. I couldn't see him, but I could hear him. Marc was a soft, deep voice in the dark; just a red shadow in the glow of my old truck's tail lights. And yet, I felt entirely safe with him out there on that lonesome, soon-to-be-abandoned stretch of highway from North of town and Beyond. Now we were in our second week, and two guys in Fergus County found each other, and thus far had found no reason not to be together. I went from listening to Marc to seeing him. With him, I shared my grief. Marc shared his grandparents with me. My family and friends became Marc's family and friends, and my brother and mother both declared our home was his, too. HE chose the furniture for OUR bedroom. And we chose each other to be each other's `First'. So what the absolute fuck am I doing, feeling insecure? A baby isn't given a shiny new rattle and then gets all worried about someone taking the rattle away. It just stays content, enjoying the rattle. Wasn't it me, just a couple of days ago, telling my mom that Marc was grain in my hand, content to just rest there and be supported? Yeah, that was me. Just too much time in my head that day. Nothing that a little Sheraton Sodomy couldn't cure. Marc's head was on my chest. He didn't look at me when he took the little bottle of conditioner from me. While squirting some in his hand, he kissed my chest. I returned one to the back of his head while adjusting the shower head to a different angle. Not very `green' of us, not turning the water off for the moment; but that sound was part of the emotional ambience. I could atone another time; like, going a week without showering. I could smell the conditioner. Marc had covered his dick and was soon moving his hand behind me, on my skin for the whole trip to deposit the slick stuff to my hole. It was colder than my skin, but by no means `cold'. I knew why it was there, though; and what was coming. The `instant replay' I really wanted, although the first one was hilarious. Marc continued to kiss me deeply. The passion with that man.....incredible. I believe it was incredible, anyway. Marc was the first person I'd ever experience that feeling with, and because Marc was incredible, I accepted that everything about him must be, as well. I hoped I was responding in kind, but I was in my own, same boat with that one; how do I know I was giving him my best? I thought I was. I certainly hoped so. The lube on his fingers found me, right where he'd been a long time, and for many times, the night before. It still was a sensation entirely new to me, and I gasped at his strong fingers manipulating the makeshift lube around and in me. I pressed up against him, holding Marc tightly against the shower wall. My dick was straight up between us, enjoying its own sensation of being massaged by Marc's hair-covered abdominals as he moved them back and forth slightly against me. "Boyfriend.....wait.....from what's happening `back there' to what's happening `up here', I might geyser at any moment. I want that to happen when you release. Same time." "Perfect, Babe.....my Babe. Damn, I love you. So much." "Me, too, you. So much." Marc released his hand from (and in) my ass. I missed him immediately, but that separation wasn't permanent. I was expecting any moment for it to be countered by six thick, fat, rock-hard inches. Just like in all those square dances at the Grange, I was twirled around and now my own chest was feeling the smooth tiles of the shower wall. Before I even thought of doing it myself, Marc gently pulled my hips backward. He motioned with his foot to move mine wider apart. As wide as you want `em, Boyfriend. Just have your body tell my body, and we'll both get something good out of it. And damn, was I told. Marc kept his hand on my hip. He remained tender but forceful in his grip on me. He used his other hand momentarily to guide himself right......there. Inching his dick inside me at a glacial pace was, despite all I got the previous night, still what I needed as a novice to the manly art of Man-Love. Speaking of love..... "I love you, Babe." "I love you." "Okay. There. How're you doing?" "Better now. Never better than now. Please just.....that's it.....stay......there. Right there. For a moment, just like that." I kept my weight on one arm pressed against the shower wall, and reached behind both of us with my free arm to Marc's fur-covered orbs. He felt so good, both in and against me. I pulled him further into me, if that was at all possible, with my hand on him. Marc got the message and pressed as much more as he could, but I wasn't sated. I wanted more. It was feeling even better than last night. This was the first time while standing up, and he was hitting inside me all over the place. Forward. Up. To the left, to the right. Then, the slow, agonizing withdrawal. I wasn't in any kind of pain; I just didn't want to feel a void where Marc had been for the past five or so minutes. He pulled all the way out, but kept himself up against me. "Fuck, that looks so hot.....I want you to see what you look like, what your hole looks like, with the head of my cock right against it. Pictures, some day. Not today. I don't want to share you or this moment with even a cell phone camera. Maybe you could.....I dunno.....twist your head around so you can see." "Maybe. I was an Ostrich in my former life." "So you carried over the length of your former neck into your current dick?" "It was a parting gift for that round. I suspect my next life will find me having carried over my aptitude for inappropriate comments at all convenient opportunities. But I'll probably be an earthworm. Who am I going to tell?Okay, that's enough commentary. Back in you go." Marc giggled and took that convenient opportunity to get a lovely minus six inches in my Comfort Zone. Again, he stayed there, but pressed forcibly against my ass. This beautiful stud fuck of a man---my man---knew exactly what I wanted, what I needed: to be reminded that I've chosen well in my unintended search for love and all its expressions. Both of his hands held my hips in place, and now he sped up his motions, though only a little. He was still letting me get used to both a man in my life and his dick in my teenaged farm boy ass. I'd very soon no longer be in my Teen years, and I was more than fine with that. In my Twenties, with a Thirty-Something. Then in my Thirties, enjoying that lovely mane of dark brown and silver gray hair on Marc's 40+ head. For the moment, though, we were young, in love, and answering to no one but ourselves and each other. "Marc.....you feel so good in me." "I noticed that, too." "Then since we agree, I need you to do something for me, please....." "Sure, Babe; anything." "I.....kinda want your entire body and all that muscle invited to the party now. You know what I mean....?" "Oh, I think I do....." And with that, Marc thrust forward with all the force of his hips. Marc pulled back, but not out. He waited just a moment, the fucker, to get me all riled up in anticipation for more human horsepower and torque. And then, I got it. And got it again. More. Marc was holding my hips in the firm grip of his massive, strong hands. I felt Marc's strength on me and in me. "You okay, Jozef? More lube?" "LESS TALK!" "Yessir!" *giggles* Marc had a lot of energy before breakfast. Of course, it was that early-morning energy that drew us together in the first place, so it shouldn't have been a complete surprise that he was in his current state of action. I was lovin' every single thing Marc was doing. My dick was longer, thicker and harder than I'd ever seen it (no exaggeration this time), and a steady stream of precum connected Paco with the tile on the shower floor. What was happening inside me was certainly Marc delivering on my request, but why stay in fifth gear when you can shift down to third once in awhile? "C'MON! THAT ALL YOU GOT?! Fuck me like I've just spilled Greek salad dressing all over your fancy suit, right in front of Grace, and ruined a brand-new mattress!" Marc wasted no time in that downshift. His hip flexors and my ass were definitely going to be bruised, if not dislocated right off of our bodies. Even if that could happen, I'd still want more from this man who fit in my life so perfectly, from heart to hole. Oh, geez.....did I REALLY write something so pathetic? Forgive me (but keep reading)! Just then, we realized we had uninvited company. Um....well, it was a `Week Of Firsts', I guess. We suddenly froze with Marc fully embedded in me and looked with complete shock at the housekeeper who was returning our expression to us. She must've thought the room was empty. She just walked into the bathroom and saw Marc and me in the shower, with me being pounded right through the wall and into the parking garage. An obvious novice at witnessing gay love (and its accompanying extreme and creative sodomy) the housekeeper just froze and screamed, ran out of the bathroom, out of the bedroom, down the hall, and probably right back home to Sydney, Montana at the state line, joining the convent at Our Lady Of The Tumblin' Tumbleweeds, and was never seen in public again. Marc unfroze and started to withdraw from me. I reached back with my hand to stop that foolish idea and pulled his ass toward me. "The time, if ever, to pull out was BEFORE she came in. Too late now for that, but not too late for YOU to `come in'. Get busy, Marc. We're not getting out of here until I'm full or we're arrested. I want you and I will have you until I can't `want' or `have' any more today." With that, I turned my head to him, and he thrust his face at mine with the same intensity as his hips did the same to my ass. The kiss was still passionate, but now it was the desperate kiss of two criminals at large who might not get the opportunity again. Marc's penetration of me was so damned hot, and he was now getting verbal, matching my own obscene, filthy, guttersnipe vocabulary. "IF * POUND * YOU * POUND * WANT * POUND * IT * POUND * HARDER * POUND * THEN * POUND * NEXT * POUND * TIME * POUND * LOCK * POUND * THE * POUND * FUCKIN' * POUND * DOOR * POUND * BEFORE * POUND * WE * POUND * MAKE * POUND * SWEET * POUND * TENDER * POUND * PASSIONATE * POUND * POUND * POUND * POUND * POUND * LOVEOHMYGODBABYI'MGONNACOMEINYOURTIGHTPERFECTTEENBOYFARMERASS" * POUND * In so many firsts for me---graduating early AND as valedictorian, lots of scholarships to college, a purple ribbon for my big guy and now a boyfriend I still loved, despite his past ninety seconds of verbal and appendage-vs-sphincter abuse, there was a new one. I would probably be the first from my family to need a double hip replacement as well as that bail Tommy offered me----if that maid dared to open her damned mouth down in the lobby. "Babe, are you okay?" "Mostly." "Oh----damn. Too much? I'm sorry!" "You'll be sorry if you pull out. Now get back to what you were doing, Mr Greedy. I HAVEN'T CUM YET!"